And I am backkk!

Dusting the cobwebs away from my blog for the umpteenth time after numerous writer blocks. And grad school isn't helping either. Yup this blog is now brought to you from Raleigh, North Carolina and I now join the bandwagon of the American Desis at whom I directed many blog attacks.

So all ye erstwhile readers and commentors, come back and lounge in here again. (S are you listening)

I will now start off with how beautiful Raleigh is and here is a pic of fall color at a lake in our campus.
And since that is out of the way now, I can talk about what I don't like about the US of A. I hate it that we don't have autos here. I hate having to walk 25 mins or take a bus to get milk. I hate that it is nearly impossible to get good Indian food outside of home. I hate the options or the lack of it that vegetarians have in all restaurants. I hate having to talk in a fake accent to make people understand me. I hate to pay Rs 100 for a good cup of coffee. I hate to wear heavy coats thats difficult for me to lift. I wanna go back to Mummmyyy!

People who take the above paragraph seriously and accuse me of being a hypocrite can go to hell

On a totally unrelated note, what is it with these mommy bloggers who post innumerable pictures of their kids, but guard their identity with their life? If I have a kid, I would be more concerned with protecting her identity than mine. Just one word for you mommies - pedophiles!
So kind readers what's up in your lives right now? Leave me a comment and we can talk about it :-)

The Plumber

Plop …. Plop…. Plop

The drops clung to the sides of the tap and dropped down grudgingly. The old man deftly removed the dysfunctional tap and his myopic eyes peered into the darkness of the rusted iron tube.

“There seems to be some blockage, memsahib. I need to break down part of the wall, try and figure out where the block is and put in new tubes.”

A wave of anger swept across Reshma’s face. Things always seemed to go wrong at the wrong times, she thought to herself, while smoothing down her designer silk saree. Prerna was throwing a back-to-India party and the kids were conveniently enjoying their summer vacation at their grandparents’ place. She didn’t have any time for plumbing problems now.

“How long will this take?”

“I can do this in 1 hour, memsahib”, he intoned in as eager a tone he could muster. “My shop is just a kilometer away, I can go on my cycle and get the tools in 15 minutes. I will get cement and do the finishing so that everything is pucca. You will never have another problem with the tap”

“And how much do you want for this?”

“It will take Rs 500 roughly, if it isn’t an air block”

“500 is too much. Whom are you trying to cheat here?”

“No, memsahib. I will have to get a pump to blow out the block which I have to rent from outside. And I need to buy new tubes also.”

“Reshma, are you ready? I have my car waiting outside to drop us at Prerna’s place” Asha walked into the kitchen.

“Asha, come right in. Your new earrings are lovely and you look positively resplendent.” Reshma gushed. “Just give me a few minutes to finish talking to the plumber here.”

Asha looked at the tiny, thin old man whose torn clothes flapped around him and the rickety old bicycle that was leaned against the kitchen wall.

“I can’t pay 500. I will give 250, you do it if you want, else we will get another plumber.”

Asha looked at him as he was peering through his thick spectacles, trying to convince Reshma to give him his rightful wage and her heart went out to him. She had been very close to her grandfather in her village and had been devastated when they lost him to cancer. This old man reminded her of him, in a vague way. He looked like he was lifted straight out of a poster for HelpAge India and the thought that he still had to work hard to earn his three square meals, brought a rush of tears into her eyes. “Reshma, I think he deserves Rs. 500. We had something similar done at our house recently and our plumber charged even more. So give the poor man his due.” she admonished.

Reshma stared at the man, who seemed looked at her like a five year old would eye a cookie jar. It was getting late for the party and she had no desire to argue with Asha who was ride back from the party as well. She convinced herself that he looked honest and reluctantly agreed. “Ok then, 500 it is. You can start the work right now.”

A small smile twisted the corner of his lips and his face seemed to somewhat melt. Asha danced a happy jig in her mind and even Reshma was glad that Asha came when she did and said what she said.

He started singing as he worked. He was right, there was a blockage somewhere down the pipe and soon water was gushing out of the tap. He cleaned up meticulously after he finished and took the money, making a tidy profit. He bent his head in reverence at the huge picture of Lord Balaji in the living room and cycled out of the mansion.

Then he got home drunk to the gills and beat his wife.

And That's the Way the Cookie Crumbles

Hello hello and hello! Now gimme a minute now to dust these cobwebs away.

Aah, much better now. So how have you all been?

While I stretch my limbs and figure out these knobs and controls at blogger, here are some pictures from Bombay (I call it that still, like Madras and Calcutta).

The first two are enroute to Bombay from Pune via Lonavala.



And then we hit Bombay!!


The ubiquitous taxi and buses




And all these old buildings which seem to make up Bombay. Not so much of a "big" city huh? :-)



The Gateway of India. (Did lots of other touristy things, but no pics)



Velu Naicker's boat :-) Nila adu vaanathu mele :-)

And my impression about Bombay - not so impressive!! Certainly not worth all the hype that people who live there claim. Chennai and even Hyd seems much better. :-) In fact a certain blogger once told me that I couldn't even call myself a city girl having lived all my life in Madras, as he felt Madras isn't as much a city as Bombay. And I was laughing all the time I was in Bombay thinking of that. To each their own! Peace

Ok folks, behave yourselves and you might see another post before you know it. :-)

And so ..

Here I am staring at the Create Post screen once again not knowing what to write

I could write about the time I gave the mechanic at the Bajaj service station a 100 rupee tip and got back a shiny new bike, cleaned and greased at places which I didn't even know existed.

Or I could bitch and moan and crib about work

I could talk about the one day trip to Bangalore and how I was inside an office for nearly 8 hours without my mobile and ipod and nothing to do.

I could even talk about the interesting phoren gentleman I met during the travel, who was a mathematician and an artist, who sold his paintings for 20000 USD, who was sketching all the while talking to me, with whom I discussed love, life and the unfairness of it all and who turned to be half Indian in the end

I could chronicle my house hunting adventures, miserly house owners and elaborate about how real estate brokerage is a lucrative career

I could announce on a happier note that my parents are moving to Hyd and dream about my idyllic life where I never need to cook again!

I could write about S' engagement and how I missed going to that, M's engagement which I am currently in the process of missing and K's engagement which I am going to miss.

I could rave about my new digicam which I bought in the Thanksgiving sale (thanks S boy) and how it takes the most wonderfullest pics!

Nah! Another day another post :-)

Of Trains Missed and Lovable Airlines

6:00 p.m from Hyderabad station and 6:30 p.m from Secunderabad, and of course the idiot that I am, I try to spend 15 mins extra at work and try to catch the train at Sec'bad. And then the realization that I forgot to pack my charger and so I chose to leave earlier, pick that up (nobody at home uses Moto phones) and then catch the train. And then disaster struck in the form of traffic. S.P Road is really one of the worst when it comes to this. I prayed and hoped and egged the driver on and reached the station 10 mins after the train left. Thankfully I found a Paramount ticket for the next day morning (thanks S) and so managed to spend Diwali at home.

I can't stop raving about Paramount Airlines. This is the second time I am flying them and they only seem to improve with time. They actually have people waiting at the gate to carry luggage inside for Paramount customers. There's access to a pretty comfortable lounge and people escort you to and from it too. The seats were very comfortable with just window and aisle on both sides. And the food they serve is actually edible and I managed to eat most of it. The fare is very reasonable - just 500 more than the budget ones. I haven't flown Kingfisher, but Paramount was definitely a better experience than Jet Airways despite the obvious difference in the fare

* Yes its a new post, you are not seeing things :-)

** I am not going to promise to write regularly. But then I intend to.

*** This post is intentionally short and uninteresting. Baby steps :-)

Top 10 Things to Do During a Boring Conf Call

10) Chew the end of your pen, trying to appear thoughtful

9) Play tic-tac-toe against yourself (Sometimes it can be oddly riveting)

8) Try to flip your pen across your index finger and thumb (Some people do it so effortlessly! I've been trying this unsuccessfully for several years now :-( )

7) Look at people's shoes and judge them (You could notice other things like clothes or hairdo and judge them based on that too, but I have observed that it is easier to look down than up)

6) Observe your reflection on the glass wall and fix your hair (I do this a lot as my hair is generally wavy and is cut in such a way as to fall all over my face. The challenge is do it such a way that people (read smart guys) don't see you do it and think your hair is naturally unwavy and sits quietly on your head)

5) Give missed calls to all and sundry (You might think that you can rather send smses than missed calls, but there is a two fold reason to avoid smses a) To send a sms, you will have to actually look at your mobile and type out the msg. This will take a minimum of 30 secs and doesn't show you in good light if you twiddle with your mobile for so long a time. But sending a missed call requires just a few seconds and can be done without looking at your mobile and the mobile can even be inside your pocket/bag b) Smses cost money)

4) Take your id card apart and put it back together (But remember, id cards cost money. So take care not to break the access card into two)

3) Locate new marker pens in the conference room to flick to your cube (This is a never ending cycle - I flick the pens from the conference room and bring it to my cube and someone flicks it from my cube :-( )

2) Doodle and sign your name all over your scribble pad (If my paintings are ever exhibited sometime in the future, I will publicly acknowledge my company's part in bringing out my sketching abilities)

1) Well, I guess you could try to listen to what is happening in the call and try to chip in with a few ideas. Or you could think of blogging ideas too :-)

** New look, same blogger :-) **

Happeee

:-)