The Green Gaffe!

I always thanked my dad for instilling the travel bug in me. The very fact that he was a bank employee gave him the option to avail Leave Travel Concession. This was one of the perks for which he was entitled every year. Instead of consuming it annually, our preference was a five year chunk so that we could cover the maximum distance and the most number of days.

One such trip was to explore Delhi, the national capital followed by erstwhile Bombay and finally Goa. We had a tried and tested strategy which obviously worked out to be very economical those days. It was to target those locations where we already had relatives. This naturally helped to cut down the cost of accommodation and also to some extent, food and local travel expenses. I must remember with utmost reverence that those were the times when people never showed faces of displeasure when they had guests at home. Due credit goes to dad's amazing networking skills!

There we were, one fine day at the most happening part of the country, the wonderful city of Bombay! Dad's uncle was staying at Bandra, one of the well-off suburban areas in the city. They gave us a warm welcome and we relished their spirit of hospitality.

One of those days, dad's cousin decided to take us around the place and show us the real Bombay. It was a morning that saw slight drizzle. We took to the streets of Bandra which was trying to hide itself from the skies that opened its eyes. Little puddles of rain water clothed the roads. The tarred surfaces appeared polished and so we began our tour-de-Bombay.

My teenage mind was all excited to see a new part of the country. I looked up to the skies and shouted to the falling drops, "You just can't dampen my spirit with this!" We had started early in the morning and soon our stomachs started to add to the noises around us. A decent looking restaurant was round the corner and we decided to break the fast there.

I really am unable to trace back the time from which I started disliking mint leaves aka pudina. I was never able to appreciate the odor of the leaves and the dishes prepared, with that as an ingredient. I became so averse to pudina that I even wondered if I was allergic to that! Dad knew this pudina-phobia of mine and had warned me that you may find quite a few of these up in the North. I managed to avoid having a food item which had pudina while in Delhi and I was pretty confident that I could repeat the feat in Bombay as well. I somehow had this notion that south Indian cuisine does not use much of pudina.

The menu at the restaurant was not very enticing as most of the options were North Indian and I dreaded the green devil that will accompany the dish! Pages turned, options evaluated and finally at a completely insignificant corner of the menu I discovered a gem! A food item that brought some respite to my eyes but more so to the mind. A south Indian delicacy which I was sure not to have any of the stuff I hate the most. None other than a jewel from the land of Nizam, The Hyderabad Biriyani!

While the rest of the folks were open to experiment with their taste buds, I was contented with the good ol' South Indian food out of the sheer fear of pudina! Moments passed by, chit chats were reaching its pinnacle and slowly the food we ordered started showing up. The flavors of Bombay did a colorful pageant right in front of us. Tantalizing aromas filled the air. The renowned Indian cuisine which has created plentiful gourmets around the world woke up the counterpart within us. Everything we asked reached us except the one I was awaiting the most, biriyani. Guess, Hestia, the Greek goddess of hearth who presided over baking of bread, planned to test my patience level!

Everyone at the table was courteous enough to wait for my dish. But as the wait grew longer I suggested the rest of the folks not to wait any further. It seemed as though the restaurant folks are awaiting the next locomotive from Hyderabad to bring the biriyani! After what seemed like hours, a steward clad in a black and white vest came with a silver tray with an item he proudly announced as Hyderabad Biriyani.

He placed in front of me, an intricately designed copper-finish bowl with contents full to the edge. This was accompanied by a silver plated spoon so as to make the person feel special for ordering something as exotic as this. All what it took was one look at the bowl and I was totally disillusioned from tip to toe!

There it was, the carefully ordered menu item artistically decorated with pudina leaves so as to make a bed of green inviting me to dive in and have a painful death!

Game of Trunk

How unusual could names for games be?!! ‘Trunk’ was one such which used to generate so much of vigour, back when games meant more than PS3 and Xbox.

The mode of game was pretty simple, yet was one with a major impact on the players, literally and figuratively. A few stones, a ball and two teams were all that was needed. Those were the times when there was no dearth of getting kids from your neighbourhood to play along. I remember parents asking us to go out and play instead of being glued to the TV sets or video games which were just beginning to become a fad.

Back to the game, two teams will be formed. 7 pieces of stones will be made available. As in the case of any sport where decision making needs to be made, tossing a coin played a major role. The winning team gets to use the ball first. The pieces of stones have to be arranged one on top of the other. Aiming the ball at this stone pile follows. Each team gets three chances to hit the stack failing which the other team gets the turn.

All hell breaks loose as soon as at least one stone gets displaced! A totally irreverent melee follows! The team that played the ball runs for their life all the while looking at an opportunity to put the stack back in order. The most obvious action for the opposite team is to thwart that attempt at any cost.

One of the most exciting and painful sights of the game is to watch the ball fly at the speed of light with one of the poor souls trying to rearrange the pile as its target. Cries fill the air, pain fills the nerves, but the show must go on...

It was a game of exhilaration, sadistic pleasure and fraternity! One that taught team work, all the while reminding that you can achieve anything but of course with some pain!

Salute the good old days!

A Basketful of Surprise!

After a few considerations, my only Brother-in-law decided to take the plunge into the wonderland called 'Married Life'. Needless to say, he was soon in a state of delirium tying hard to figure out the difference between nights and days, thanks to the late night phone conversations with his soon-to-be-sweetheart. All this while there was one little soul who was totally busy figuring out the artistic details about the wedding. My darling devil she was!

In the traditional Catholic society, a married sister of the groom commands a kind of respect which is something short of royalty. The reverence becomes manifold if she happens to be the only sister! I need to be a little immodest here and add that a fair share of the attention is also received by the brother-in-law of the groom.

With a few months into married life ourselves, I was fortunate to realize one fascinating characteristic of my sweetheart. She has a distinctive talent to create a marvel out of the most insignificant looking material lying around! So there she was; trying to make her brother's wedding a fairy tale one with the resources she had access to.

I heard her speaking to mom a few weeks before the wedding about buying some sort of a basket made of cane. She was also talking about nets and ribbons to add to the set. Conversations were plenty about size of the basket and color of ribbons. It is a matter of fact that I was not a keen listener to these and so didn't make out what she was up to.

The evening before wedding, I saw her scooting to a room back home with a basket and some assortments. The curious cat inside me got jolted up and swiftly followed her to the room. But all what I saw was a basket, some clothes, ribbons and nets in different colors. The cat lost its interest and moved to further more interesting actions which a wedding eve is never deprived of.

Moments passed by and I was cruising past the chocolate brown glass topped table en route to kitchen to pick up something. As if gravity got the better of me, my legs refused to move an inch beyond a spot. There, perched on that glass table was a heavenly beauty residing in all its glory! The simple basket of cane had gone through such a transformation that it became an incredible example for a work of art!

A pure white piece of satin became the seat, lovely nets floated around the basket giving it a fairy touch and curly golden ribbons were shining as though to proclaim to the world that a new life has been instilled! To top it all, a pair of exquisite lemon yellow roses adorned the basket to complete the royal touch!

Presenting the little beauty in its entire splendor to you…

Gifting a Blunder!

I had known my dad's cousin, for a few years, as the lady who chose to remain single amidst the traditional family she was part of. During family functions, she was a topic of discussion as the one who committed an act that is next to a cardinal sin! Though no one despised her at home, I always sensed a melancholic tone when people spoke about her.

Perennially our society has been one that strongly based itself upon the notion of matrimony for existence and procreation. Every child who is born into this system is raised with a constant reminder of the need for this age-old institution. This belief gets deep rooted so much that, anyone who dares to tread a path that is different is seen as an outcast. This nature of the public always remained a fascination right from the time I started decoding the algorithm of relationships in a family.

The chapters of my life flew by and one fine day I ended up at the doorsteps of the same lady. I was to stay there for a couple of months as part of completing my Post Graduation project in that city. My alternate agenda was to explore more on the psyche of a single woman on whom the society had attached a taboo.

Pages on the calendar were flipped twice and by that time I had my realization in place. I could figure out the discrimination, the so called civilization had shown on her. In fact I really admired her for resisting the act of bigotry for almost half a century! She was indeed happy being single and had no regrets whatsoever, unlike the concern people had for her. I could feel the sense of freedom she cherished and not to mention her own space she treasured!

Single or otherwise, maternal instincts form an inseparable part of the genetics that constitute the fairer sex. I experienced that with the care she extended towards my well being. I was truly thankful to her for making me comfortable during the couple of months I lived there. It was more like an eye-opener for me towards the definitions world had in store.

It was time to bid farewell to the wonderful camaraderie we shared. I thought of parting ways by gifting her something she valued. She being an avid reader, what else other than a book, could be the best gift? Hours were spent to fish out a befitting book that spoke volumes about living life to the fullest. Something that genuinely complimented her spirit of being single!

I got the book covered in a lovely gift wrapper and presented with a contented heart. Her naturally beautiful face glowed as I handed over the gift and soon enough she started unwrapping it. Till date I am not really sure of the sort of emotion that crossed her face, as she took a first look at the cover of the book!

It read, 'Who Will Cry When You Die?'

My Feminine Instincts

While recently filling an application form we came across an all familiar section for title. The options included Mr, Mrs & Ms. All the male folks out there, you are united by these forms regardless of the fact that you said 'I do'. The fairer sexes, you are yet to be recognized independently. You need the support of either your parents or husband, so the form says!

We say, as a country, we've become independent more than half a century back. The world has seen the empowerment of women in many ways than one. We've had Presidents, Business Heads and the Power Houses for multiple strata of society from the female species. Do we still need a differentiation between married and unmarried women?

The world speaks so much about men and women, the fairness of gender wherein one is no more superior to the other. One more generation passes and it shall be a non-existent scene, where parents worry about marrying off their daughters. Young women are breaking free themselves from the clutches of the societal norms that sketch their destiny for future. Those days will soon appear in the pages of History books when a girl stood in silence while her parents decided the groom for her.

The modern day women must realize that this separation of their gender based on the marital status is nothing but the age old British political strategy of Divide & Rule. Why do you need a separation when a man can be 'Mr' irrespective of the status? What makes the men privileged to have the unique identification? This is a true case of planned attempt to create an identity crisis among the gender that once used to be the bear-all category of society!

The bigger question will be why do women need a separate qualifier to address the presence or absence of the other half in their life? What difference does it make if a girl is married or otherwise? The taboo associated with an unmarried woman is again an evolved evil from the yester years of the present society. Why should you let that create a division?!

Many religions speak about God creating the human race with man and woman being equal. Of course, God as an entity being considered male, is a totally different debate altogether. The thought here is if we were created equally, at what course of history did that become less equal?

Equality should not remain only as a topic of discussion. It needs to be a way of life, among the thoughts shared, the challenges faced and the decisions taken. The moment you learn to respect your co-species and accept that they are as much a part of the environment, you inherited from the previous generation which makes you equally superior as the rest; the distinction will cease to exist.

Who does not love a peaceful world?!!

The Red Firewall

We were a bunch of half baked Management Grads back in 2005. It was time for our internship program and along with a friend of mine I kicked off a Market Research activity for an IT Firm. Our targets were CIOs [Chief Information Officer] of IT organizations. Figuring out the usage and scope for Network Security Products like Firewalls was to be our assignment.

And there we were, charting the longitude and latitude of the City of Bangalore, on a brand new bike knocking at the doors of every possible IT companies we could figure out. We'd to cover a minimum of ten firms a day. Our initial thought was ten is such a small number, but the facts of cold calls soon hit us real hard. Forget about meeting ten CIOs, getting an appointment a day became an event to celebrate! Many a times, we'd to split the areas between us to meet the target.

Destiny had it that two months of our lives were to continue in this fashion. It so happened that we were one short of our target on a promising Friday evening. All what we had to do was to finish off the last one and head back home. We were at one of the commercial hubs of South Bangalore and were sure to find an IT firm to fill our last slot.

Soon we found ourselves standing in front of a state-of-the-art building which had a pretty interesting name. Since we were in that part of the world where IT companies were giving competition to the population growth of the country itself, we were confident about our find. Walked we did, right through the front door and met an equally confident front desk assistant who welcomed us with a warm smile.

The usual drill was to ask for the CIO and push our chances for a short instant meeting. The receptionists usually oblige or politely deny. But this one proved to be a different animal altogether. She answered in negative to our query on CIO, but said they did have a Firewall. We found that interesting, though not surprising since there were many small IT firms without CIOs but one person handling multiple roles.

Our following question was about meeting the person who is in charge of the Firewall. Her answer baffled us. She said, "Sir, we don't have anyone like that. I manage it myself. In fact we got it only last week and installed". We were not sure if we should be confused or mighty impressed. Here's a receptionist who also doubles up as the Network Administrator! What a revelation?! All that and more were completely proved otherwise with her next statement. That totally pulled the rug from under our feet!

Her eyes twinkled and smile broadened when she said, "The best part is, it is Red in color and I love Red"!

We looked at each other and needless to say, were speechless. For a moment we even thought, perhaps there could be a brand new type of Firewall named in the likes of 'Bluetooth'! Sensing our confusion she asked us to follow her. Took us through a door besides the Front Office desk and blissfully pointed her finger at a direction and repeated those words, "That is our Red Firewall".

There it was, perched on a wall, laughing out loud, a Red colored Fire Extinguisher!!!

The Middle Line

Till the time you start living together under the same roof, you won't know each other that well – A profound statement, isn't it?!

Of course believing is one and experiencing is another.

An interesting irony about being married is that, while the common interests become a pat-on-the-back, the differences may quite well be a slap on the face! Yes, we were no different a couple in matters that could call for a routine change in the way of life.

Ruby loved coffee and I was a hardcore tea guy. I'd tried my luck before wedding itself, with a pseudo-chauvinist act and told her that our home will have no coffee brewing. She being the smarter one, didn't of course commit anything and patiently waited for the day I reduced to my half and she filled the other.

Man! Was I not happy, the first few days, when the aroma of tea filled every corners of our sweet little home? Little did I know that she has a Masters in Ego Massage! It is truly commendable, the way with which the woman of the house brings in some changes in your life and you won't even know it.

Soon the aroma-adorned corners started dwindling. The fragrance of Coorg became a frequent visitor during our mornings. Fortunately evenings were blessed with flavors of Darjeeling*. This of course proved to be an interim peacemaker deal. It didn't take much time for us to realize, these places can't co-exist.


We perhaps required a Middle Line of Control. Thoughts and ideas came and went. The union of geographies seemed a distant reality. Many crusades were launched for Coorg; Darjeeling was never behind in that historical battle. Sparks lit up the skies, Guns were fired and finally the War of Taste Buds came to an end.

We now share a common love for Bournvita :)

* Coorg is known for Coffee & Darjeeling for Tea.