The Year That Was 2018

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Where shall I begin. One week into the new year, I met with an accident and broke my left arm. That was the time I realized the importance of being bouncy and healthy. I could get back to work within a month. I don't know what I did right, the life has blessed me with an amazing life-partner (Touch Wood). Hubby took the rein of everything and nursed me back to health. That was the new side of him for me to explore. During the same period, one of my uncles expired and I couldn't attend the last rites. He was suffering from chronic illness for quite sometime. In between the gap of 1-1/2 years, Ammamma lost two son-in-laws. That was the time when mother and aunt decided to start living together. And that lifted a lot of stress and anxiety off my chest.

In the month of March I started writing blog (this) again after a hiatus of 1-1/2 years. I have written a few posts about my father which is my way of chronicling the beautiful memories we created together. In a way it was cathartic, yet emotionally draining. The hope is one day I'll revist those posts and be able to smile.  This year total number of posts were 40, which I would rate as average. I got caught up with too many things in the last quarter. Again, I know it is an excuse.

We welcomed a new member in our family. If you've read my earlier posts you would be aware of this. I became an aunt for the second time to a cute little nephew (hence will be called nephew A) this August. In December we had his naming ceremony, which was attended by all near and dear ones.

The highlight of this year was traveling to Greece, my dream destination. Greece was in my top 3 list as long as I could remember. The capital Athens oozes of old rustic charm with historical significance. Walking in the Acropolis is a heady feeling, that can't be described in words. What could I say about Santorini, the most instagrammed city in the world? Other than this we traveled quite alright if I could say so considering my temporariy disability for the first three months. Mekedatu, Shivanasamudra, Mundgod, Karwar, Goa, Mirjan, Apsarakonda, Gandikota, Belum Caves, Tadipatri, Banganapalli, and Kanchipuram. Sadly because of hubby's new job we couldn't take our yearly vacation.

I fell short 4 books to reach my reading challenge of 50 books. This year I read different genres, few classics and few bestsellers. For me a book can be slow, dull, bland, but never bad. At the risk of being repetitive I've got say this, I need to read at least few pages everyday for my sanity.

Even I can't believe we've watched 150 movies this year. That is like one film every two days. The quality ranged from best to good to worst. I believe in the concept of I should see for myself before passing judgment on anything. On the Television series front I've seen the historical fiction "The Tudors"; four seasons of "How to get away with a murder"; first season of Big Little Lies, Sacred Games, and Young Sheldon. Have started "Narcos", but abandoned at the beginning as half of the conversation is in Spanish. And hubby strongly believes it is against his self-respect to watch with subtitles. Sigh....

This year saw me reconnecting with four of my childhood friends with whom I had lost touch for quite sometime. It was an amazing feeling to get to know about their life which I was not part of. All of them carried the same warmth and fondness and I was truly touched by their gesture.

Work kept me busy as usual. Again, I was nominated for best-employee of the year in a row without winning it. Since I'm neither ambitious nor workaholic it didn't take much of my mind-space.

The year 2018 had been very kind and generous. And now I'm hoping year 2019 will be even better and I intend to put all my energy and efforts to make it beautiful.

The Month That Was September

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What do I say about this month? It whizzed past in the blink of an eye. I'm saying this because I could finish only one novel the entire month, Something In the Water by Catherine Steadman. My saga with "The Fountainhead" by Ayan Rand continued for the second month, which I'm hoping to finish by third month as I've 150 pages more to go. I've watched nothing on the television front. I couldn't even remember why we were so busy?

I've dedicated few hours of my time to arrange and rearrange the discs, which is a daunting task in itself. The culprits to slow down the process are old albums. It so happens that I look at some pictures, go back to the time it was taken, cherish the moments, smile and repeat. If I go by this speed it is going to take a year or more to accomplish what I've started. My deadline to this project is end of this year.

The good thing is we were able to watch 16 movies this month; Gurgaon, Vodka Diaries, Kaalakaandi, Kaatru Veliyidai, Theeran Adhigaaram Ondru, Divergent, Insurgent, Allegiant, Beirut, Bioscopewala, Kaala, To All The Boys I've Loved Before, BA Pass 2, Skyscrapper, Ocean 8, and Jurassic World Fallen Kingdom.

We have taken two trips this month. The first one was on Ganesha Chaturthi weekend. It was our norm to visit my parents' for the festival as they used to celebrate it with much fanfare. That ritual was stopped due to my father's untimely demise two years ago. And it is too painful for me to go to native during that period. Instead we have visited Mundgod Tibetan Monastery, Karwar, Mirjan Fort, Apsarakonda. When you're in Karwar it is a sin not to visit Goa. It was hubby's wish to show me the Goa in off-season. The stripped off shacks, the solitude of beach, drive through lush and green countryside, the experience was like having the entire Goa for ourselves. We will jot down the entire trip in www.milesandtrails.com

In the last leg of the trip I jammed my right thumb between the car door all by myself. I was getting out of the vehicle to pick something from the boot. The pain was intense and constant. I was almost close to tears not because of pain, but at my helplessness for not being able to blame hubby for this mishap. Thankfully nothing was broken though the nail was bruised and red. After popping few over-the-counter pills and religiously applying cold compression a few times in a day, the pain subsided in 4 to 5 days. This is the second injury this year. I was glad that it was minor and I'm grateful all my limbs are intact. I still have discolored thumb nail, which is going to take a very long time to disappear.

Another trip was in the cusp of end of this month and beginning of the next to native for a yearly ritual, which I better write in October's flashback. On the whole September was super fast and busy with work, travel, and fun. We do have 100 more days of this year and the last quarter of the year is always my favorite time with festivals, birthdays, and total celebrations. October please be kind.

Something In The Water

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Title: Something in the Water
Author: Catherine Steadman
Genre: Thriller/Mystery
Publication: 2018

"Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional".

The title of the book was intriguing. It implied a mystery, a thriller or both. I stopped picking the book as per recommendations or reviews of others because many a times they failed me. Its my understanding to read book without any expectations. That makes it much more joyful process and I would be the sole judge without any influence.

Plot: Erin is an upcoming film maker who is engaged to Mark, a handsome and successful investment banker. She is filming a documentary about three prisoners from different walks of life who are to be affiliated back into society. Just few days before the D day Mark loses job. They decide to cut down on the wedding expenses and two weeks honeymoon in Bora Bora instead of planned three weeks. They were having a perfect honeymoon; sunbathing, hiking, scuba diving; eating exotic food; and generous dose of love making until they find something in the deep blue sea and their life is never the same.

Book opens where Erin is digging a grave to bury the body and she leaves it to the readers to decide whether she is a good person or not. That promised a good start. And in the end I could not fathom whether she is a good person or not. She made incredibly stupid choices for sure. She is greedy and completely untrustworthy. So, is Mark. The story is gripping from start to finish, though the climax is predictable with a little twist.

I started wondering is it so easy to smuggle things to England if you are traveling in first class as the writer suggests? What would I've done in Erin's position? I even prodded Hubby to answer what would be his choice if he was Mark after the storytelling. Throughout the book I was telling Erin not to walk that road and have her priorities right. In this way the book does justice to being a psychological thriller.  

This is author's first novel. Once I finished the book I decided to do a little research about the writer. Voila, I knew her. Not personally of course. She is an actress, and I recognized her roles from Downton Abbey and The Tudors. She weaved a relatively simple tale in an equally simple words. And I would like to read more from this one.

To The Man Who Loved and Lived-Part 9

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During one summer holidays I get an idea to get my nose pierced. I wracked my brain trying to remember what triggered that idea. Nobody was talking about it at home. Nobody was very particular about getting one done either. I requested, cried, begged, and threatened my mother, Ammamma, aunt P and aunt B to no avail. I even skipped a day's meal as a protest. Have you noticed how they ganged up against a little kid? They were all so cruel. How could they dismiss my wish as if it was the least important thing in the world?

I was waiting for the arrival of my father the next week as he had to attend a family function. After hugging and exchanging pleasantries I pleaded my case. The rival team was quick to explain what transpired between us and how my behavior was unladylike. Now he was caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. He tried to convince me by saying I was too young for that. I was 9 at the time. Tears poured down my cheeks like a river escaping the dam.  For me it would have been a defeat against adversaries, only it didn't. My father told me to get dressed immediately as we are going get the nose piercing done. My mother and Ammamma chided him for turning me into a total brat. He smiled through the entire charade without uttering a word.

Again, those weren't the days of big jewellery showrooms. It was two hours journey to-and-fro from our place to Taluk headquarters. We had our family goldsmith who designed gold as per our preferences. It took him less than a minute to prick the nose. I had just one teardrop throughout the process much to the astonishment of the goldsmith. I was even rewarded with an ice cream to bravely enduring the painful procedure. I had spring in my step while walking towards home and everybody welcomed us with a cheer.

I took off the nose ring at 21. For most young girls that is the age to get their nose pierced. I've this habit of doing everything in reverse order. When my father asked why I don't have nose ring, my answer was I don't like it anymore. He didn't preach or lecture me about it unlike my mother. If I can think now my father let me get away with almost everything. He gave us a lot of leeway to make our own decisions, but for a few, which he thought he knew better. Though a disciplinarian he was a cool dad to have around. Since we all three turned out hardworking, kind, and well-rounded human beings it is safe to say he was indeed a great parent. And that void nobody can fill. The pain of losing him is still intense even after two years.  It is just that we have learned to live with it.

You've Changed

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Have you heard people saying you've changed a lot personally when you meet them after a long time? Or seeing your pictures in social medial and messaging and calling to tell you the same? I've heard that a lot from acquaintances in the past few years.

No, I'm of the same height, weight a little heavier. I've not grown any additional limbs, ears, or tentacles either. My skin, hair and eye colour the same. I speak the same language with same dialect. I'm the same introvert, opinionated, level-headed person how I was 10 or 20 years ago. My views, believes, opinions, and attitude the same, only more broadened and liberated. So what makes them think I've changed?

My dressing and style, which according to them is mod, hip, and chic. They could have said I've got a makeover. No, they deduced my personality with the way I dress. It is the social conditioning and classic stereotyping. I can only feel sorry for their pretty minds. However, it used to embarrass, shock, and confuse me in the beginning. Now I just smile and say "you mean my dressing and style, not personality". That in return confuses, shocks, and embarrasses them. I call it the art of table turning.

I was born and raised in a small town in the coastal Karnataka. It goes without saying coastal people of the State are the most progressive, broad-minded, and no-nonsense kind. However, they are becoming the opposite in the recent years is what I could gather with few interactions. I may be wrong as I can't generalize the entire population. I digress.

I got my nose pressed at the tender age of 9. It wasn't traditional and nobody even mentioned to do it. In fact it was me who cried, begged, and persisted until I got what I wanted. And at 17 I threw the nose ring off. At 6 my parents wanted to keep my hair short, the bob cut it was called. I wanted long, shiny, silky hair like my mother and they let me have my way.

I was very proud doning string of different flowers on my thick, oiled plaited mane. A few self-named girls made fun of it at school and I couldn't care less. What they know about a lady who painstakingly go through the process of gardening, plucking flowers, tying them into a string the previous evening, plaiting my hair the next morning, and bobby pinning the flowers onto it every single day without a fail. That is my Ammamma. I maybe anything, but insensitive I'm not. Until 12th standard it was strictly uniform to school. Then I moved to another small town for my college, where everyone was wearing traditional clothes and I did the same. Oh, none of them were fashionistas. 

So what happened once I moved to Bangalore? I got a job, started earning, and I was independent. I had this preconceived notion that certain clothes doesn't suit my petite form. So, I started experimenting with clothes and surprisingly they all suited me well. Big cities always have the advantage of giving you the confidence to be who you are. I knew very well small towns are really not a place to wear teeny-tiny clothes especially in India. And I was very much against the idea of splurging parents' hard-earned money on anything other than what was necessary. I've a wish to wear a bikini, which is next to impossible in Indian beaches. So, I intend to sport one in our next international trips. Does that make me bolder? I don't think so.

Maybe I was unfashionable and uncool in others' definitions. But I'm glad I was just that. I always get to live the best of both the worlds, passé and eleganté. And for the critics I'm unapologetic if I've just stopped acting the way you wanted me to.

What Motivates Me-2

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I don't get up everyday just to go to work. It is given that it takes 1/3rd part of my day, and I would have slept a little longer if I don't have to go to work. However, there are other things which gets my attention and time, the things that keeps me very happy.

Films: Now I'm at the risk of being a bore who keeps repeating things. Everyone knows about my love for movies, which I inherited from my parents as both of them were cinephile. Another thing that worked in my favor is being born at the right time. Television was a novelty back then. As the millennial I get to witness the transformation from radio to tape recorder to black and white television to colour, doordarshan to cable channels, video cassettes to CDs. In the process I was fortunate enough to watch older movies of 50's, 60's, 70's, and 80's. Still I have missed aplenty of classics. I have watched mostly Kannada and Hindi movies. Tamil movies started with Roja, and  Telugu and Malayalam much later. And English movies once the HBO and Star movies came into existence in India.

Even today I get butterflies in my tummy until I reach the theater. And I've very little respect for people who are late to movies. Having a partner who is equally fanatic about films helps too. He introduced me to few genres like war movies, which I would not have ventured into if left alone and animation. I frowned upon people who said they loved cartoon films. Now I absolutely love both these genres. Watching movies isn't time pass for me. It's a cult and I'm an ardent follower. In a month I would watch at least 10 films and there are still so many thousands out there. As crazy as it may sound to others, this desire to see more motivates me. This obsession only a movie buff will understand.

Music: Who doesn't like music? Everybody does, right? So is in my world. I'm a music lover as long as I can remember. I was a great singer too according to me until sense prevailed. And good music was always appreciated at home, probably that is the reason we siblings have such a penchant for it. We were partners-in-crime in recording our favourite songs in audio cassettes. There was always music blasting from our home since the time immemorial. We weren't reprimanded by our parents to playing non-devotional songs early in the morning like my friends'.

Music evolves with time so my taste in them. Initially it was Indian filmi songs, folk, and light poetry. As I said earlier it was pre-google era and we couldn't get our hand on everything in a jiffy. Good songs are suggested and shared by friends and foes alike. Western songs became a rage with MTV India. I didn't grew up listening to Michael Jackson, Madonna, Bryan Adams, or AC/DC. They all came much later in life and when they did I lapped up to everybody like a true music lover. Needless to say one of the many things that draw to Hubby is his immense taste in music. It is he who nudged me to develop a liking for Sufi, Ghazals, and authentic classic. Till today we can sit and talk about music for ungodly hours.

Music is cathartic. It is like drug that keeps you always high and happy. People who think I'm an introvert haven't heard me talk about the word M. Like books and movies I need a daily dosage of music. I can't thank enough of the musicians and composers who created beautiful numbers that keeps billions of people happy and gay.

Friends-Episode 2

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This is a second part in a short series I have started. No, it's not a fiction on short story. Just jotting down few memories for posterity. I'm almost sure I will suffer from Alzheimer's disease in my old age if I make it beyond 60. If that happens I can always come back here and get a perception about my past life.

J: I joined a new school for my 4th standard. At that time I never felt the pressure or pain about making new friends. Or maybe I did, which I would have conveniently forgotten once I was happy in the new environment. My friendship with J was rather arranged if I think about it now. She used to stay with her grandmother. Those were the days before the pasteurized milk overshadowed each nook and cranny of small towns. To cut the long story short we agreed to buy milk from her grandmother as we were new to the place. The old lady arrived immediately the next morning to deliver the milk and ordered my mother to be introduced to all three of us. She lost her interest in my brothers pretty quickly. She was delighted to know I was in class 4th as her granddaughter also was in same class. So, as soon as I entered the classroom that day, a tall, lanky girl approached and initiated the conversation as per her granny's instructions. I was puny all my life, so I was in the first bench and she being taller was in the last. And she was in the same school for the last 3 three years and had her own set of friends. Still she walked back home with me twice a day, once for lunch and next at the end of the day. In the evening it was her chore to deliver the milk. While doing so she used to carry books on the pretext of doing homework with me and it was fun playing together until the dusk. On the days when it was very late, my y.brother and I drop her back at home. Even though it was arranged we got attached to each other real fast. It was assumed if I was not at home I would be at her place and vice versa. That happy period came to an end once I have decided to move to my Ammamma's place for next school year. Even so we met each other during Dasara and summer holidays for three more years, until my father got transferred to another town. I remember corresponding a few letters with her for a brief period, which stopped eventually. Sometimes I believe "out of sight, out of mind". In my 11th and 12th I get to hear about her from my high school best friend "R" as they were in the same college. Coincidentally my y.brother and J's y.brother were close friends in their college, so indirectly we knew what is going on in each others' life. In fact, this May I've met him at my SIL's baby shower and we talked about her for a bit. She is happily married now, stays in Singapore, and we chat occasionally on messenger. We say we will meet each other whenever she is in the city, which both of us know is never going to happen. Not because we don't want to. Her time will be limited and there will be so many obligations to fulfill as a daughter, sister, and daughter-in-law. And my calendar is chockablocked for at least five to six months in advance. However, I'm grateful for her to taking a like in the new girl and nurturing the relationship.

Like I said in my earlier post I just want my friends to be healthy, happy, and safe. There is absolutely no desire or inclination to know each and every minute details of their life. They all know I'm just a call or a message away to lend an ear without judging and dole out my pearl of wisdom (pun intended) about life, relationship, love, conflicts, all and sundry.