Monday, 29 August 2011


To celebrate the birth of Lord Krishna, (most) parts of India celebrate a festive called Janmashtami, a.k.a. Gokulashtami. Traditionally, a handi (pronounced: haandee, i.e. earthenware pot) is filled with dahi (pronounced: dahee, i.e. yoghurt) and tied on to a rope that is suspended across say, two apartment buildings. This would be at a height of more feet than I'd ever like - somewhere in the range of 30 - 40. Ulp. What needs to be done is pretty simple - or not. Human pyramids need to be formed, to reach the handi, break it, and have the dahi spill over. Often, these pyramids have anywhere between four to five tiers, with a child atop the pyramid to smash the handi. There are local youth groups that vie for this 'contest', seeing that there is a cash prize attached to each such handi, ranging from between INR 10000 - INR 100000, or sometimes even more.

Thought I'd do a pictorial representation for you, given that this is the first time ever that I'd decided to watch the action live myself. Why? Am not sure this is my idea of fun, or a sport, seeing that the pyramid-ers work sans helmets, knee/ elbow pads, harnesses... you get my drift. What's enjoyable about possibly falling off the formation, breaking a limb or two - or worse? Anyway, that's for another post, steeped in reality checks.

Interim, here goes:
Step 1: Getting to the venue, on bikes (see - no helmets), or atop a truck.

Step 2: Behold the goal!

Step 3: Pyramid in formation.

Step 4: Err, a shot of these guys actually breaking the handi? Urm, my camera didn't cooperate. I was too late to click. Anyhoo, what's imagination for?

Go on, y'all know how you would whack a pinata, eh?


... and never go away. Or so it seems. Thought I'd gotten done with my cribbing about the rain for this year, really. About the damp, wet dog smell on everything. About the fugly fungus everywhere. Ick. Ick. On the housework front, laundry that just doesn't dry, rainwater that craftily sneaks in from invisible cracks in the wall. Bah.
So the MET has predicted three days of incessant rain, which roughly means we're looking at maybe five-odd days or so, given that the MET track record is really nothing to write home about.
How do I get to work today? I wish I were a school student, just for the day - schools have been asked to close, given the rains. (Hmph. Distressing not to be able to look 13 instead of 30 some days.) Instead, I brave the rain, waterlogged streets, human and vehicular traffic and cautiously ease my way into the parking lot at work.

Getting home, you ask? Rinse, repeat.


That's what I spent my afternoon painting today, acrylic paint on canvas.

Ahhhhh. Bliss. Love those paint splattered fingers!

No, the canvas is a perfect rectangle; just that the photo's clicked at an odd angle. Really.

Wednesday, 24 August 2011


I've almost forgotten how to write, more's the pity. :(
While happily tapping away at the keyboard is now the norm - and how convenient it is! - it's made us all forget what used to be termed as the 'art of penmanship'. How many of us today can actually put a pen to paper and write sentences, never mind paragraphs or pages, without our hand cramping up? Without getting 'bored', or 'tired'?

And let me not get started on spellings.

Friday, 19 August 2011


At the risk of sounding all giggly and schoolgirly, I must gush about having bought sparkle nailpaint. Sparkle! And pink. Pink?! Okay, dusky rose, or rather some fancy-schmancy name for it that's on the bottle. And dare I say it - blue! A nice, turquoise-y blue!

Circa 1990s, eh?

Honestly, amazes me just how people are gluttons for punishment. How they can listen to insults, get tossed about by random anyones, and generally be treated as life form even lower than pond scum. Really, now.

One arguement might have to do with circumstances. Or so they'd want you to believe. But what happens, in that case, to being the Master Of Your Own Destiny? Can you, as an individual, not decide what direction your life is going to take? Or do you meekly accept what is, as-is? Sure, life isn't always fun (never mind the proverbial bed of roses), and there are times when you go, why me? But should you spend all your time whining why me, and do nothing about it, arrrrghhhhhh... now that I just don't comprehend!

Which brings me to self-respect. Even an ounce of that goes a long way. How can anyone take that away from you, huh? Again, I have no answer, but find it impossible to believe that you can be convinced that you're a waste of space on Earth.

Or is it easy to speak when you're on the other side - wanted, loved and secure in your knowledge of that? When you know that there are times when you will be down, but bounce right back you will.

My thoughts, these... what are yours?


Mundane, you think?

Well, we've I've been hoping for clear skies since a while now, given that it's been some months of dull, dreary grey now. While romantic and all (only out of a window, or walking by the sea), there isn't anything even remotely so about having to wade through ankle-deep water, or worse. And of course, bugs. Ick. And fungus. Ick. Ick.

Being a home owner (and one living close to the sea) makes it worse: there are these hideous, fugly, just plain gross forms of fungi sprouting out the walls. I shudder to even take a swipe at them with a paper towel, because as I approach them, they seem to grow in size, smell putrid and generally reach out to me with musty little feelers. Ulp. Strategy: Get gooseflesh on arms and down the spine. Leave paper towel as-is, and scream for the significant other to help, i.e. clean away the creepies. Which he does (bless him), but only after having a go with the camera. Do we really need visual reminders of super creepy fungi? Do we?? Do we???

Oh for loads of sunshine! *whimper*


... I also love like think there's something about The Scream, by Edvard Munch. Something.(

Captivating, really. Makes me pause every time I see a reproduction somewhere.


For me, art is roughly translated as Vincent Van Gogh. Have always, always loved his works, and wait for when I can visit the museum in Amsterdam. Until then, this is where is go:

And of course, I spend lazy weekends (even though there aren't as many as I'd like.... grrrrr) with oils on canvas, working my paint-splattered way through The Starry Night (, Country Road with Cypress Trees, or thumbing my way through a book (or two) on his works.

Ah, bliss.

Who's your favourite artist?

Monday, 15 August 2011


You're 64 today!

You have so much to be happy about, so much to celebrate, so much to be thankful for, so much to look forward to.
It's great being with you - cheers!

Sunday, 14 August 2011


For most in India, it's a super three-day weekend. For me, two. (Yesterday - Saturday - was a working day.) Anyway, that's potato/ potato, really. It's a H-O-L-I-D-A-Y weekend, woohoo!

So while I may not be chillaxing on some exotic beach somewhere, diaquiri in hand, what I AM doing is watching back to back movies at home, catching up on some reading, blogging, shopping with the girlfriends, painting, cooking... not bad, eh?

More in a bit - pictures, too!

Friday, 12 August 2011


Too lazy to type much, but with good reason why: a full, satisfying day at work. One of those days when you're totally charged up, adrenaline pumping and believe know that given a chance, you can conquer the world.


Wednesday, 3 August 2011


Yup, that's the amount due on the husband's credit card this month.
Roughly, that would be equivalent to:
0.00022 USD
0.00015 Euros
0.00011 GBP