The one where we talk about the weekend in longing hindsight

I noticed that a lot of blogs I read seem to have titles inspired by FRIENDS type 'the one where...' and so to keep up, here's mine.
'Twas ANU open day on saturday and with a knack for getting roped into these things that only I have, I was there bright at early at 8.30 on a cold morning, setting up optics type things for school type students. On the recent radio interview I was asked why I do outreach activities?
After taking more than a moment to think about it I had to say that because things that I did/read/saw as a youngster have influenced my choices and decisions to this day. I studied physics because I was influenced by my 7th Std physics teacher who loved me and taught us very enthusiastically about how a thermos kept hot things hot and cold things cold. I thought it was bloody brilliant! Simple and brilliant!
I studied optics because I was, and still am, fascinated by light (which is strange because electromagnetism is the only subject I failed).
So I wholeheartedly threw myself into outreach at university because I love talking to people, talking to strangers and telling them to care about things. See, I care about a lot of things. And I fail to understand/connect with people that don't. Caring about things does not necessarily mean doing something to fix it (if it needs fixing). It means wondering about it, learning about it or even just talking about it. I cannot understand people that go about life like everything and everyone is beyond their control. But that rant for another day.
So, outreach... I like being able to tell people that even on a bad day, I care about my work. I like the candidness with which I can approach students and tell them that although research is difficult and not always fulfilling, it's great because you have freedom. You get to rub shoulders with giants in your field and they talk to you as if you have potential.
But for the most part I love outreach because I remember the first time I actually understood something. That lesson about the thermos and how it worked - it is my first memory of actual understanding. Not just listening and filing away, or rote learning to reproduce during exams, but actual understanding. Like the pieces of a jigsaw fitting in my head. To be able to impart an understanding, no matter how minuscule, to another person and to get them excited about something is indeed really gratifying.
Of course the publicity, freebies, articles in journals and interviews that follow are also great, but they are few and far between.
So saturday I slaved all day (between meal breaks, tea breaks, mini meal breaks and pizza and drinks after) but managed to catch up with Mayu (who I last saw in Dec, and who is making a habit of these whirlwind trips that I'm not happy about one bit!). Sunday saw the three of us breaking our heads and aching fingers over Resident Evil.
Have any of you seen the FRIENDS episode where Joey is meant to host 'Bamboozle'? and he gets Ross and Chandler to play and at the end when Chandler gets bamboozled he holds his head in exasperation and exclaims 'this is the best game ever!' - nothing could echo our sentiments better. Cracking RE is not just about who wins anymore, it is a team effort. It is aching hands and sore eyes, it is cups of tea to stay awake and yelling and screaming till we are hoarse about what to do and to look 'behind you'. It is pondering endlessly over clues and what to do next, what weapons to by, whether to buy the map or not. It is hysterical screaming when the giant was killed to hopelessness at not being able to kill the chainsaw-wielding women. It is late night phone calls to say that 'I've killed the chain saw woman' and 'Don't play the next stage before I come!!'. Most of all it has been an exercise in obsession like I have never known, since I last saw my father and uncles come together to crack Top Gun some fifteen years ago!
Thus passed a blissful weekend and keep us in your prayers as we tackle Episode 2, Chapter 3 - tonight!

...

Sometimes I think back and wonder what would have happened if I had taken another path. None of this laser science business, art and words instead. I heard a talk the other day about parallel universes and how the theory is that there are infinite parallel universes and you have explored every choice in some universe. I wonder whether I am the same age in all universes. I wonder how the Amrita with an Art History major is doing. Is she sleeping wrapped in newspaper in New York because she cannot afford a house or is she rubbing shoulders with the Elite and valuing art works at Sotheby's, sipping champagne and eating caviar (that she has developed a taste for, having hung out with the aforementioned elite). Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I chuck it all and start over. Sometimes I am tempted, very tempted. And then (good?) sense prevails and I think I should finish what I started.
On another note, I slept in my bed yesterday as opposed to the couch. It is getting warmer and so I can manage with the dysfunctional heater and turns out beds are the best for sleeping! After several weeks I had a good night's rest and did not wake up in a murderous rage. Isn't it just the worst feeling waking up with aching limbs, runny nose and a headache.
The plans tonight are to eat Ethiopian food and play Mario Kart. Yippekayay!

Fame and the mundane

The radio gig is done and needless to say it was a very exciting experience. The guy interviewing me really knew his stuff and even made me think on my feet with a few questions about a single photon source developed at the Univ. of Melbourne.
The podcast of the competition speech has been released and when I listened to myself - I sound like a ten year old! Anyhow, the weekend passed by in a blur and I can barely remember when Friday ended and Monday began. I feel like going home, curling up on the couch with a mug of hot something and either watching TV all day long or reading a book. Such thoughts are natural on a murky cloudy day but what warrants such thoughts when the sun is out - I do not know.
A ton of things have been done and a ton more await however I take solace in the fact that one way or another this PhD will be out of my hands, this time next year. Whether 'done and dusted' or 'tried and failed' is yet to be seen.
Why this positivity? Well I'm sleepy. Sleep deprived. Yawning. Want to go to bed. Eyelids 'a droopin. But I have yet to go sort out the electricity bill so, everybody, we're back to the mundane!

The Gig

Thank you everyone for the warm wishes and responses on the previous blog posts. Continuing with the celebrity type things, I opened my email yesterday to find that a presenter from the local radio network 98.3 fm had seen the Canberra times article and wants me to appear on a science show called 'Fuzzy Logic' this Sunday! So wish me luck one and all as this will be my second radio gig. The first one was for being a volunteer tutor for refugee children in Auckland and was a very interesting experience.
Somehow I feel that I would be less comfortable had this been a TV gig. Only because apart from worrying about what one has to say, one also has to worry about how one looks on TV. Radio - one less worry.
Friday is here and never have I looked forward to the weekend so much. The weeks are now packed, overflowing, full to the brim, bursting at the seams... you get the picture. It is all I can do to stumble home after gym, dance, netball or whatever else it was that I got myself into, make dinner and hit the sack - which, incidentally, is my couch for the last three weeks. The heater in my room has not been working well and I haven't had time to get it fixed so it is either freezing on the comfy bed in the room or slumming it on the couch and staying warm. Those that know me know that I would pick the warmth any day. Half a thought is to wheel the bed out to the drawing room but that idea has been vetoed by the sister who already cribs about me sleeping on the couch. All I want this weekend is some R&R. Days are getting longer again and the sun is peeking out so all is looking up on the weather front.
Enjoy the weekend everyone! Those of you who live in Canberra, tune in at 11.30 on Sunday!

Do I make you proud?

I have been MIA from the blogosphere the last few weeks because real -lifeosphere has taken over and I log in today to find what - they have changed blogger layout and me no like.
Anyway so lots of fun has happened the last few weeks and let me start at the very end and work backwards - I am world famous in Canberra! http://news.anu.edu.au/?p=598 and http://www.canberratimes.com.au/news/local/news/general/
keeping-it-simple-at-the-cutting-edge/1245180.aspx if people have the patience and the will to find out how and why.
For my part I will say this - it was a battle of wits and will and confidence and it was the last bit that got me through (or so the judges said). Am I proud of this achievement - hell yes. Because it is not often that a coloured woman is chosen over Caucasian men and I have been in this field long enough and fought hard enough to know that. There have been frustrating times in similar competitions when that Caucasian boy won and even the judges could not point out why I was second (in one instance!) but it happened. In saying that, the competition was tough but good natured and the four boys were very good (as you can see by reading the articles) and their topics were by far more interesting than mine, I thought.
My mother reminded me of words that my Electronics lecturer had said to me in undergrad, and they rang very true on Thursday last week, he said "you are a brown female who is decent looking and you can talk! and you're studying Physics, you will do well"!
So much ado was made of me last few days and I have been getting tons of good wishes from a lot of people, and I am very very thankful to each and everyone alike. The Family has called and emailed and one message was loud and clear in all the wishes 'we expected nothing less'. Because you see, the Family expects nothing less. If I don't do well it is a cause for concern but when I do well I am just fulfilling my destiny! The bar has been raised generations ago and we can all but keep up.
In other news, the brother-in-law arrived on Thursday and already he has gained the revered spot of my 'lucky charm' what with the award getting few hours after his feet touched Canberra soil and my two year old bike getting sold for $600! He began at the harrowed halls of Canberra hospital today and let us all wish him luck!
So working backwards to the last (first?) event - the Sydney trip to celebrate the birthday of Mr. Universe, vprasad007 better known as Vik.
Words cannot describe the place we stayed at and the only saving grace was that it was bang smack in the heart of the city and less than a stone's throw from all the places that we wanted to go to. A great time was had by all and I think it will suffice to say that Sydney trips are always fun and this one raised the bar just that little bit.
Speaking of bars and raising - here's to the rest of this week, let us raise a glass (of hot beverage, as the mercury dips here in Canberra) to each other and to the fact that even though this year has had massive dips, there are rays of sunshine through the window.

Sydney times

Last week was spent in Sydney, officially attending a conference and unofficially catching up with the gang that currently resides there. It is a fantastic feeling telling a friend that you don't want to eat out anymore so they should cook for you and it feels all the better when they do! It also feels good to catch up with married friends and play the Wii over glasses of drink and Thai food!
Books were bought and I have managed thus far to keep my word and only buy second hand books (except for one lapse!) - The English Patient (Sorry Ashanka I have not yet read it but am getting there quick), Satanic Verses and Mila 18 which is borrowed from a friend. There was a lovely little second hand book store right next to the hotel where I put myself up, so needless to say a lot of time on the way to and back from the conference venue was spent happily perusing.
Jaane tu ya Jaane na was also watched last weekend. My reaction is 'meh *shrug*'. I guess the Aamir Khan name (albeit not as director) and the general over-hype surrounding this movie managed to over-sell it to me and it did not live up to expectations.
Of course they were best friends and of course they were not in love and of course they would end up together. Even the 'narration' part is flinched from Chalte Chalte. Originality came only in the form of Naseeruddin Shah and Ratna Pathak who were absolutely fantastic and effortlessly carried the humour and wit. Even Paresh Rawal's role did not do justice to an actor of his calibre.
A. R. Rehman's music does grow on one and it did for this movie too. I am undecided about Imran Khan - he has the makings of an Aamir without the playfulness, without the complete charm. Whether or not he has potential as an actor remains to be seen.
A lot of people enjoyed the movie as they could identify with a character in the film. As for me the closest anyone came to my character in the movie was Shaleen (I think her name was). The friend in the background who comes forth to spout some words of wisdom. Who is not overly anything - loud, dressy, emotional. Seems to have her head on her shoulders.
However, in saying all that, I liked Imran Khan's character in the movie and it taught me an important lesson. See, although I am not a romantic by any stretch of the imagination, I always wanted a guy who could beat the heck out of someone for me, who would take arms against the world if anyone else so much as batted an eyelid my way. Yet, after watching this movie, I realised that it takes much more of a man to tactfully side-step a physical fight and wittily save the day, that brain is more important than brawn.
Still, one must be willing and able to throw a mean punch when required, what say?

Things that....

...get my goat!
So it came to be last week that the light in my kitchen flickered, flickered some more and then went out... just like that. Now, I could have thrown a hissy fit and ranted and raved and so I did. Then, in true (wannabe) engineer style I proceeded to unscrew the shade, the holder and all was revealed. The holder was broken. No matter, we shall get a new one thought and I shelled out a whopping $7 for the same. Now come the minor issues - ensuring that the switch was off I proceeded to unscrew the wires from the broken holder and transfer them to the new holder. Simple enough - not really. The tools were ok, so can't really blame those. Can blame the shoddy wiring and the terrible holder screws that caused half the damn ceiling to fall down. Ok I exaggerate, not half, but enough.
Turned out that turning off the switch was not good enough since there were four bloody wires. Four! and one of them was still live so it proceeded to give me a minor shock and a major scare. So then I turned off the mains. Did I mention that I was doing all this at 7 pm (after getting home from work)? So I don't own a torch and blue LED on the key chain, though powerful was not enough. So efforts were put on hold till the morning.
Did the needful the next day and for some god awful reason the bulb lost all sense of switch and just stayed on! Turned things off, checked wires, found loose wire, put it back in, screwed back on as tight as I could.. no luck. Did I mention, also, that I don't own a step ladder so I was standing on a chair of questionable stability?
Finally put in a call to the electrician who came by and with brute force put the last annoying wire in and things worked like magic. He was also equipped with the right tools, a drill and a step ladder! He did applaud my efforts and say that I had done most of his job for him! However this whole rant was a digression.
What got my goat is that first off I was talking to a (male) friend and told him that the light was busted and he said 'wait till I get there, don't do anything yourself'. Why the heck not? Are you made of insulating material? Or do you have magical powers that can fix wires without touching them? I realise that the electrician that came along was a man and yes, I agree that he was able to provide that last push that I couldn't, not because I am female but because I am not strong enough!
In the same vein, it also gets my goat when women are overly thankful when their husbands cook or clean or take care of their children. Why? They're human, they need food, (some) need a clean house and its their child too!
So why glorify them as if they have made inhuman effort and why be grateful that they have given you time off?
Which brings me nicely to my final point - why are some jobs classified as male-worthy and others as female-worthy? When I pull out the ol' Swiss army knife and fix screws and bulbs why is it less acceptable than me pulling out some wipes and giving the kitchen counter a wipe down?
During my three years in Canberra I have heaved furniture, fixed appliances, clean rotten food and dirty linen and lugged groceries up the hill! I will do it if I can and I know how to. Because this is life. Life does not see male or female, life does not know if a man is in trouble or it is a woman. Life just happens and one has to deal with it whether one is male or female.
So maybe now is a good time to change the word 'handyman' to 'handyperson'.

Dark Knight

The Dark Knight was watched last weekend (and as I type that I realise that it was but obvious that the only thing needed for those words to course the veins was a movie review bah!).
The first stunner was watching Heath Ledger in action! He chilled me more than Jack Nicholson did as the Joker (Jack however did full justice to the role of the psycho in The Shining though, that was freezing!). Heath Ledger brings to the role a maniacal quality which of course Nicholson had but maybe I wasn't old enough to appreciate it. This calls for re-watching people.
Rumour has it (or is it fact now?) that Ledger prepared for this role by going into isolation, working himself up to such an extent that it caused him to have hallucinations and resulted in his death. Very very unfortunate for an actor of such calibre.
Back to the movie, well I liked it, perhaps not as much as Batman Begins but good all the same.
Felt it could have done with a tad slicker editing process.
The biggest shock of all was that Gary Oldman (of Sirus Black fame) played Inspector Gordon! Makes me wonder as to how the cast of the HP series will look by the time the seventh movie is made. Bring out the walking sticks and dentures!
While the chill of winter continues, Canberra temperatures are still oscillating between the early negatives and the false positives. So until next time I leave you with these words of wisdom by none other than the Joker himself - 'You either die a hero, or live long enough to become the villian.' Truer words have seldom been spoken.

I finished work rather late last night. Of late I don't feel like leaving home in the mornings and don't feel like leaving work in the evenings for fear of the cold. So as I got into the car in the pouring rain I suddenly had the urge to go to the Indian grocery store (which is not too near!) and pick up aamras (mango pulp) and eat it with hot rotis. So off I went in the pouring rain, bought the aforementioned mango pulp and six movies to boot. So it came to be that late into the night I watched Dor. It is a beautiful movie and it manages to be so essentially in simplicity. No gaudy make-up, no strange accents, no eccentric old men or bikini-clad women, no blaring songs and lavish sets.
It captures beautifully the inner turmoil of two women brought together by the strangest twist of fate. It delivers in that one feels empathy for the characters and their pain is real, so are their reactions.
Might I add that Mr. Kukunoor, for all his directorial skill, has not been endowed with acting talent and he sure as heck cannot pull of a 'Mr. Chopra' so in the interest of viewing pleasure he must refrain.
And most importantly it has a happy ending in the not-so-usual sense.
The dvd's sold here are the two-in-one kind and so there was also Dil Chahta Hai. This movie was a turning point in Indian movie history. It was blatant without insulting your intelligence and it was fresh in every positive sense of the word.
Anyway my thoughts elude me now so I will abruptly end this post! Enjoy!

Movies

The movie Jaane Tu ya Jaane Na seems to be more than a blip on the radar and everywhere I read, people seem to be about it.
I haven't seen it yet. Although I did watch the lead actress, Genelia is it?, in Mere Baap Pehle Aap and very surprisingly she did not annoy me! She has all the makings of annoyance, the hyper activity, the voice and the general disposition and potential to be annoying but she falls short.
Word has it that the movie is about the age old, done and exhausted concept of two best friends falling in love (or rather realising that they are meant for each other or some such...). Exciting stuff. However, since it starts Aamir Khan's nephew and is produced by Aamir Khan himself, it warrants a watch.
Incidentally, has anyone watched Tashan. If so, would anyone care to explain to be what the bleep it was all about? If the producers had money and the directors had time to squander, why not channel it towards a cause like world peace or poverty or world hunger? Although, I do think that they managed a tiny bit of population control because I'm willing to bet that it caused mass suicide somewhere!
I have been watching hindi movies for as long as I can remember but no movie has managed to do to me what Tashan did. Believe you me when I say that there were times when I had to rewind dialogues and scenes to hear them again, just to be sure that I wasn't hallucinating. Reviews of this atrocity claim that it was Bollywood's masala answer to Tarantino's Kill Bill. Well for one Kill Bill was a far superior effort which showed exquisite planning and execution and for another Kill Bill was far a far superior effort which showed exquisite planning and execution. Tashan is found seriously lacking in... well just about everything! It borders on the bizarre and hopes to cash in on crap like 'Dil Dance Maare re' and a size-zero, bikini clad Kareena.
Call me over critical, I mean it is a hindi movie after all and one is rightfully expected to leave their brains behind in a safe place for the three odd hours of 'entertainment'. And even though I did, I could feel my abandoned brain writhing and threatening to die and early death if I continued to watch.
However, on to bigger and better things as we always are, once I had washed out the remnants of Tashan from the mind I able to function again, and more than merely thankful for the same!

For the love of the game

A few moments define history and any tennis fan will tell you that the Wimbledon final of last night will go down in tennis history.
I am still getting over it all. The excitement, the pulsating energy and finally the disappointment. Being a fan of the Fed-man myself I think I speak for Fed fans world over when I say - 'what a game' and 'Darn you Rafa'! But to give the devil its due Rafael Nadal has done the unthinkable and what some deemed, the impossible.
Newspapers, sports channels and journalists world over have waxed hoarse about the game and so it will suffice to say that the quality of tennis was second to none. No one feels that it is time to start writing Federer off. Or maybe they feel it but don't want to say it. It is reminiscent of the time Sampras lost to Hewitt. These turn-overs are 'normal' and 'expected'. But Federer has never been normal and has always surprised us with the unexpected.
To me last night's game was a test of experience against age. But the loss hasn't sunk in and I will leave with the same words I told my friend's father at the Aussie Open this year
'You all came to watch the tennis, I came to watch Federer'.

Disjointed thoughts

My thoughts are disjointed. So will this post be. If you look at the comment to the last post you will see the one that tells me to keep my chin up. That's my mother for you. Recovering herself, she's up and about and asking me to keep my chin up no less!
If only I had half her spunk... actually I'm' going to stop this rant about 'If only I had half the...'. If I want 'half the..' then I should go get 'half the..'. Or 'all of the...'. Wow! punctuating that was hard!
The 'show and tell' went of grandly yesterday and all the tension was unnecessary.
In other happenings I am so exhausted that I cannot open my eyes before nine am each morning. It helps that the supervisor is away all of this week but it does not help as he is coming back and I need to be in for Monday morning meetings!
Canberra weather is freezing as usual and so is the water in my bathroom! Somehow between 8 and 10 each morning the water heating system seems to take a break and pour out cold water! Is there anything worse than a cold shower on a cold morning. I think not! Actually, there is something worse - the house-agent doing nothing about it!
Does anyone else suffer from really cold hands and feet? How do you get by - it's a mystery!

In fifteen minutes I have to gather my troop here and head off to meet two visitors for lunch. I'm not usually nervous about speaking to people or speaking in front of people or speaking in general but of late (read last three years) a certain uncertainty sets in at the wrong times and I find myself fumbling with the smallest details. I forget words and names and the words aaaaaaaaargh come rushing to mind!
Oh and I'm also nervous about eating around unknown people in a formal environment. Wish me luck!

To my father

I did a Mother's day post in May and realised that I absolutely have to do a Father's day one too!
I have always been a Daddy's girl and even though my father's traits that I displayed earlier in life have now been taken over by my sister, I can safely say that my father has taught me things that I will hold dear for as long as I live.
My father exudes silent strength. He is brilliant, calm and dignified and also an excellent story teller. His tales have become famous within my friends circle and at a gathering he is frequently asked to recount his time in as a youngster in Calcutta or as a captain in the Army. His passion, however, is his work. Needless to say he has made quite a name for himself in Auckland teaching and practicing medicine.
To the family my father is a silent and determined individual with a very strong sixth sense that has served all of us well during the years. To me he is just Baba - who has given into my every whim over the years, who has taught me the true meaning of being sincere at work and the importance of education and learning, who has always treated me like an adult and given me freedom of thought, speech and action much beyond what an Indian father gives his daughter even in this day and age, who would wordlessly go out at 10 pm to look for blank maps for school and who is very good with his hands and has built a number of things in our home.
And finally he is the father who has brought up his two girls with so much care that the thought of us getting married scares him to his very core!
Happy Father's Day Baba!

Dental woes

I have a deep dark secret. I am, what is medically termed as, a gagger. Which means the roof of the back of my mouth works overtime and results in a terrible gagging reflex everytime anything other than food touches it. These things include toothbrush, dentist's tools, doctor's flat ice-cream stick type thing used to check the throat, throat swabs and all other manner of things.
Now this obviously results in a phobia of dentists. I remember when I was about seven (I think) I needed some teeth extracted and so my father marched me off to the dentist. The dentist proceeded to stick all sorts of things into my mouth and I gagged uncontrollably and the final straw for me was the anaesthetic injection - I bolted. Out the door of the dentistry, down the two flights of stairs and all the way to the car. The dentist's cries of 'you are a bad girl' were useless. I didn't care - as far as I was concerned I would rather my teeth rotted in my mouth than have that monstrous injection put in there!
This phobia only got worse and as luck would have it I have been cursed with a set of rather oblique teeth that needed several extractions and braces. Each visit was as unpleasant as the previous and after the braces came off I vowed never to have to go to the dentist again!
My diet is decent, I don't eat much chocolate, don't drink fizzy drinks often and also brush twice a day. I also floss when needed. So I had convinced myself that all was under control. Until last month. I woke up to a slight (very slight) pain in the left gums and some tenderness so I went to the dentist here in Canberra. She checked my teeth out, pronounced that all was well but I would need an x-ray. Now, I had no idea that a dental x-ray is taken by shoving a film inside your mouth, against your teeth and the dentist had no idea that I'm a miserable and chronic gagger. So she proceeded to shove this contraption in my mouth and I proceeded to gag it right out. She tried again and I persisted. So finally she gave up and packed me off to get a dental x-ray from the diagnostic medlab (not before charging me a whopping $110!!).
Needless to say the x-ray never happened, the pain however persisted and kept nagging at me whenever it got the chance. So in NZ this time I literally gritted my teeth and went to see another dentist. My teeth turned out to be fine but I was told that I needed a clean and I dragged myself across the corridor to the dental hygienist. She took one look inside and said it was the oddest thing she had seen in a long time - the left side of my mouth was in pristine condition but the right side was rapidly going down-hill. Bizarre she said.
Now this lady was the sort who needed not only to clean things but also to figure out why they were dirty in the first place so through some rapid questionings she realised that since I was right handed and since my right shoulder had been stuffed for the last two year I have not been able to bend my toothbrush at the right angle to brush hard enough (or something) she also figured out that I gag so much while brushing that flossing every tooth is totally out of the question!
Anyway, it was a reasonably pleasant visit and everything is all cleaned up and back to better than normal. I picked up an electric toothbrush at duty free and also a special head that.... wait for it... flosses the teeth for you! Oh joy!
The gagging still remains but one just has to power through it all I guess so till next time folks here are some words of wisdom from the fantastic dental hygienist - 'Floss only the teeth you want to keep'!

The Haul - wrapped, sealed and delivered!

The Finale!!: Megz's gift finally arrived and I picked it up from the PO and eagerly opened it up to reveal a lovely fondue maker complete with Belgian Chocolate!! Needless to say it is going to be a weekend filled with chocolatey goodness. My parents gave me a gorgeous necklace with a diamond pendant (among other things!) and Vatsa and the MOTH added to it with a Borders gift card!
A BIG HUGE THANK YOU to everyone, honestly this has been a very very memorable birthday. I do not measure the success of the event in monetary terms (although even if I did, this birthday would win hands down!) instead, it has surpassed all others in terms of thoughtfulness and the sheer effort put in by the people dear to me, to make it special for me! *sniff sniff* - just for this I want to turn 25 again next year! *wide toothy grin*

- afterthought: The 'bro-in-law' referred to cousin yes, G is not yet married!

...

So it has happened, I have crossed over, am towing the line - I'm a quarter centurion!
Yesterday was excellent and a big hug and thank you to everyone who called, emailed, texted, orkutted and Facebooked with wishes!
It hit home harder than ever before that I have so many people who think of me and wish me well. It is rather overwhelming but mostly it is - reassuring.
I'm off home tomorrow for the long weekend. NZ beckons and much as I would like to say that it won't really be time off since I have to write thesis and other things that I've (stupidly) got myself into - its home and if I can get past the long chats over cups of tea in the balcony and watching TV and generally lazing around in the cold - I will try to get work done.

The haul - updated 5.02 pm

I'm halfway through the birthday (as of midday today) and the haul thus far includes two more Famous Five's, a Billabong woollen golf cap, a Benetton wallet and a beautiful cable-knit sweater dress! But more importantly it includes lots and lots of wishes from all over the world! *signs off grinning like the Chesire cat* - add to that a grey knit billabong scarf, 3 cards, gift vouchers and a beautiful bouquet of roses from the sister and bro-in-law!

Here's wishing me

As the big two-five approaches my friends came over to spend the weekend in Canberra for some pre-birthday partying. If that in itself does not tell you how special I' am to them - nothing will.
The weekend passed by in a blissful blur of good food, drink, music and conversation. We laughed, mocked, joked and ribbed each other to no end and at the end of it all, returned to our respective homes. Considerably sombre and inevitably sadder for the weekend having come to an end.
The big day looms and the plans as of now include early-to-work, seminar till 8 pm and then dinner.
My wonderful sister has been giving me gifts for the last two days, and I am eagerly looking forward to the finale. The haul thus far includes a Famous Five and ..... a Moleskine notebook!! It feels like velvet to touch and I don't really feel like writing in it. When she gave it to me and I finished screeching with glee, I promptly proceeded to smell that new-book smell and then I just held it for ever so long. Ah the love affair with stationery!
About that Famous Five - About three weeks ago I chanced upon one of the FFs I had bought when I first moved to Canberra. Enid Blyton is my refuge. When I want to relax for that half hour before falling asleep I savour the familiarity of Enid Blyton's books. What can I say - I'm just a bespectacled little ten-year old at heart! So I read through my FF and that weekend I went to a few book shops looking for an omni-bus or so to buy, only to be told that they are no longer is fashion. Most of what was on offer for ten year olds was beyond comprehension and I just left with a sense of immense loss and pity for these kids who will miss out on so very much!
Even the local library does not stock them anymore!
And finally, quarter-century, in-my-prime, biological clock ticking, expiry date, shelf-life and a million other cheap shots will be taken at my expense soon.
I just shrug, I like aging, mostly because I can still pass off for 15 and still asked for a school ID card on buses and matronly air-hostesses offer me the same 'apple juice mixed with sprite' that they reserve for the 'kiddies' and partly because it gives me a license to impart knowledge without being asked for it.
Mostly because I can look around at things and say 'been there done that' and partly because I know that I'm still young enough to it all over again if I want.
Mostly because everyone around me is going through the marriage-interview process and I don't have to and partly because I know that the day I want to get married I can do it my way.
Mostly because I'm almost where I want to be in life and partly because I can just walk away and start afresh.
Mostly because I'm 'old enough' and partly because I'm 'young enough' to be transported back 15 years with a book, a song or a friend.
Mostly for all the life experiences and partly because there is so much more waiting to happen!
But most of all it is because the growing up is done and partly because I can now do whatever the heck I want, whenever I want, however I want and if anyone questions me pat will come the reply 'I'm going to be 25 on Wednesday!'.

My Musical

Tagged by Vatsa - so here's presenting my life as a musical! This has got to be one of THE hardest tags ever and I already know that I will want to change my mind about the songs the second I hit publish. Yet in the spirit of things... here goes.

Rules of the tag: Various situations are given. You have to come up with a song ( or a couple) that aptly describe those situations in YOUR life.

Opening credits: Its' my life- Bon Jovi

Waking up: Beautiful Sunday -Daniel Boone

Average day: Main Zindagi ka saath nibhaata chala gaya - Hum Dono

First date: Tere mere sapne - Guide/ Fire - Babyface and Des'ree

Falling in love: Can’t help falling in love - Elvis Presley / Have I told you lately- Rod Stewart

Love Scene: Hungry Eyes - Dirty Dancing/ Father figure - George Micheal

Fight Scene: Woman in Love - Barbara Streisand

Breaking up: Must have been love - Roxette/ Nigahen Mastana - from the movie Paying guest

Getting back together: Nothing's gonna change my love for you - Bryan Adams

Secret love: Abhi na jao chhod kar - Hum Dono/ When you say nothing at all - Ronan Keating

Life’s ok: Wouldn't it be nice - Beach boys

Mental Breakdown: Sounds of Silence - Simon and Garfunkel/ Boulevard of Broken Dreams - Green Day and Achint!

Driving: (Right now) Tokyo drift - Teriyaki boys, la gasolina - Daddy Yankee

Learning a lesson: Big Yellow Taxi - Joni Mitchell/ Achint

Flashback: Yesterday - The Beatles/ Fernando - Abba

Partying: Hips don't lie -Shakira/ Indi pop/dance numbers

Happy Dance: Summer of 69 - Bryan Adams/ Time of my life - Dirty Dancing

Regretting: Din Dhal Jaaye - Guide/ Hum bekhudi mein tum ko - Kaala Paani

Long night alone: Tadap tadap - Hum dil de chuke sanam/ I'll be there for you - The Rembrandts

Death Scene: (on G's suggestion) Hotel California - The Eagles

Closing Credits: Bitter sweet symphony - The verve (sorry Vatsa but it has to be this one for me too!)

In turn, I tag the following people:
Megz, Ashanka, Amruta and Achint

All the things she said....

all the things she said
running through my head
running through my head

My head is a right potpourri of thoughts! I wanted to write about a conversation with my sister yesterday where we established that Canberra hardens you physically, mentally and emotionally and the scars remain etched on your being forever. I also wanted to talk about the caste system and its relevance in modern day Indian society. But the demands of daily k are calling and I will have to go and model a shoddy waveguide on an even shoddier computer simulation tool.
Woe is me.
On a brighter note, as Canberra hits sub zero temperatures, I'm off to reasonably warmer Sydney to see my dad who is visiting for the weekend! :-) Can't hardly wait.

Of this, that and the other

So it was another average day and since my eyelids started drooping shortly before tea time I decided to hit the gym a good 3 hours before the customary 6 pm. As I walked toward the changing rooms this rather good looking guy walking behind me caught up with me and I gave him the once over (approvingly) in my head as my eyes moved from head to toe I saw that he not only had a good looking face and a well cut body but he had .... well cut, waxed legs! Now I don't know if this is a common occurrence but the gym is usually filled with well toned guys and none of them, till date, has strutted about flaunting waxed legs! That was a complete and total what-the moment for me.
Incidentally, can someone please pass a law against shorts so short that they don't cover anything and I'm sure it is already a law that one must wear something inside the shorts too! I'm going to the gym to work out and feel those calories burning. As you stretch, I do not want to be accorded with a view that will make me squirm and generally feel disgusted for, possibly, the rest of the evening!
Now before you start thinking that all I do is look up people's clothes and at people's legs ... please don't think it.
Other than all that it is Friday again and I can't believe how the week has flown! Seriously people there has got to be a better explanation for how time flies. Hope you all have a good weekend and .. err.. a happy new year?

To Ma

It was Mother's Day yesterday and when I wished mine last night she first paused for a moment and said 'About time!'. There you have it folks - presenting to you - my mother!
Strength is the first word that comes to my mind when I think of my mother. To me she is the epitome of strength - mental, physical and emotional. I have been told that I have grown to become a lot like her and this has, time and again, resulted in many a conflict between us. She believes in fierce loyalty and brutal honesty. She is nothing if not real and sincere and while there are several things I wish she had done differently - like looked after herself a little more and us a little less - I realise that she was just being a mother.
I believe that we are all evolved versions of our parents (for better or for worse, time will tell) and even though there are marked differences between the way my mother and I think - every time I do anything her voice rings in my ears.
She might not believe it but my home is clean (to her standards!) and my dishes are done and my life is organised - thanks to her. She has taught my sister and I the finer things in life like simple living and high thinking, music, dance and appreciation for art and fine language. She has taught us etiquette and the importance of manners. She has taught us to hold our head high and never fear if we are right. And all this she has taught by example.
I know that over the years I have caused her much elation and some disappointment and I'm sure that the years to follow will be no different. So without much further ado I would just like to wish her a very Happy Mother's Day and tell her that I really have been craving her presence (and food!).

I absolutely *heart* these! To my utter disappointment, couple of weeks back in Sydney at the Dymocks Stationary store (which, might I add, is a haven on earth!) that you get these city specific. I wanted to kick myself for not picking them up before travelling last year. Guess I will have to do it all over again armed with Moleskins.
Sigh!

Its Friday evening and whilst most people are thinking TGIF - I'm pretty meh about it. I am looking forward to sleeping on the newly acquired bed. Needless to say it has done wonders for my aching back and shoulder. I'm also looking forward to cake - which I will get in about five minutes - right after I hit 'publish' and head to the tea room :-D.

My orkut fortune for today reads: You are talented in many ways. I know this and so it hurts even more to know that these many talents are being wasted.
Of late my writing talent has given me the slip by fading into oblivion. I have been racking my brains to come up with something as simple as chapter titles for the PhD thesis and this still eludes me. A fervent prayer to the Gods of writing - rain your blessings on me.

God, grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
the courage to change the things I can;
and the wisdom to know the difference.

This is my thought for the day. It is called, very aptly, the Serenity Prayer. As I tried to recall the exact words of the prayer, I was struck by how many of us want change, need change and yet are too busy or scared to be the change we want to see.

Latest on the block is that I've reopened my blog to all and sundry out there.... I would like to believe that this is the reason not many people were reading and even less of you were writing comments!! Come on people!! :-D
The reasons for making this blog private still exist however, I'm trying not to let those reasons rule my blogging life!
Thanks to everyone for putting up with logging in etc...
Will try not to let it happen again! Enjoy!

Oh yeah!

Hello world! This is blogging direct from the dark dreary depths of the optics lab! Incidentally, winter has hit Canberra and how! Last night I truly understood what that woolly mammoth (was it?!) felt when it was snap frozen during the last Ice-Age. I feel like I should dress in my best clothes lest a future civilization finds me, snap frozen, in all my jeans and t-shirt glory.
Of other goings on, the apprehension regarding the long weekend in Sydney was unnecessary since things went off rather grandly. The itinerary included a visit to the dinosaur exhibit at the national museum and it was very good indeed. I was awestruck by the size of the full scale dinosaur skeleton right in the middle of the large room and it wasn't even one of the larger dinosaurs and, by the scheme of things, a fairly 'new' one!
Besides that we danced, sang, ate, drank and generally made merry in each other's company. I think it would suffice to say that a great time was had by all. That's the beauty of a trip with old friends - they just fit!
I should conclude this post before my thoughts race out of my head - they seem to be doing this at an alarming rate lately.
Adios amigos - till next time!

I absolutely, without a doubt, hate being like this and its getting to me. Rahukala, saDesathi, call it what you will - it is eating into my morale. This hit me hard a few moments ago when I said to a friend that I am 'scared' of looking forward to the long weekend (which I intend to spend in Sydney). I am actually afraid of being excited about it, afraid of looking forward to spending time with close friends doing things we do and reminiscing. I am afraid.
I don't want to be afraid but of late things have this annoying habit of going horribly, irreversibly wrong and hitting me full in the face and I'm left to pick up the pieces.
I want to be the (half!) positive person that I was becoming. I hate living in fear of what is next.

I am a woman - hear me roar!

I was contemplating starting off this blog entry with a disclaimer and then decided against it. What follows is OPINION. Something I am entitled to have and this is my blog. MM's post sparked this post and needless to say I will rant till I go hoarse on this topic!
What were you doing on New Years Eve 2007-08? It is not an unlikely scenario that you might have returned from overseas to India (your native land) to spend NY with friends and family and it is equally likely that you were out in Mumbai with friends/partners eating at a fine restaurant (after all you earn in dollars!) and decided to join in the India Gate festivities shortly after that. You are there with your partners, men, and therefore you are safe. This is a scenario that I might very well find myself facing. Heck, it is not too far from what my friends and I have done on NY's eve in NZ! Read this and the term 'safety in numbers' takes on a whole new and horrific meaning, so does the term 'mob mentality'.
I first read about this incident on Mad Momma's blog and didn't get around to finding out facts about it. This morning I have spent a half hour reading about the details of this morbid and downright disgusting display of 'machoism' by Indian men and it convinces me of one thing and one thing only - I'll just bite the bullet and say it - Indian men are b**tard coated b**tards with b**tard filling unless proven otherwise. I'm sure this 'recipe' is not far from the case for men of other nationalities too but since I can, I will comment on my 'country cousins'.
I felt sick to the stomach reading about what happened and sicker still from reading about men and other women who thought that they 'asked for it'. This whole 'asked for it' justificiation really grinds my gears HOWEVER as MM has said on her post there is a fine line between 'asking for it' and 'being stupid'. I have seen my Indian counterparts shed their clothes and inhibitions like snake skin upon migration and then they seem shocked that they get groped by and Indian guy. Desis will be desis will be desis. Would these same girls be comfortable showing this much skin in India? Hell no! But for some inexplicable reason the Indian man that moves overseas should become a decent individual and suddenly sprout a brain and a conscience that controls his urges - I think not!
Stupidity has its consequences. If you are stupid about your finances you will be broke, if you are a stupid driver you will crash and if you are stupid about what you wear you will be groped. This is not to say that these things don't happen to a vast majority of people even without being stupid about it. But you would not go to a war-zone unarmed would you?
I don't think it is right to lecture people on their attire. Wearing, or not wearing in some instances, clothes is a right and people are free to choose. However choices have consequences. Women today have the right to knowledge, education and information. Knowledge about the culture of another country you are visiting (how many of you know that when you visit the churches in the Vatican in Rome you must cover your arms and legs?!), information about the effects of alcohol on the female body, sex-education, self-defense. Read it, learn it and never forget it!
While authorities and civilians work towards educating the male species about consequences of their vile actions, I think women too need to take responsibility and get out of this overwhelming victim mindset. For Godsakes if a guy is inappropriate with you, have the guts to smack the living daylights out of him. I've done it, very recently, and a girl that saw me do it came up to me and said 'Wow man (!!) I wish I could do something like that!" - You can! You have arms and a brain and something that gets ticked off inside when a guy misbehaves.
One of the best things I learned while taking the Women's Self Defense class was to 'do something'. Anything. Yell, scream, shout, pull hair and gouge out eyes if you have to! It could save your dignity and your life. Don't stand there and take it if you can help it. That requires a certain amount of training and Self Defense programs are designed to help women overcome that initial shock and horror and get the brain to react.
This post might well sound like I support the 'asked for it' argument but read better and you will realise that I don't. I support intelligent behaviour. There is a difference between a one year old and a 25 year old and that difference is (in most cases) cerebral development. You have a brain -use it! No one ever asks for it - but we are still getting it, so what do we do?
My heart bleeds and I feel knots in my stomach and my brain fills with rage everytime I hear or read about molestation, sexual harassment and crimes against women. For no apparent reason at all apart from the fact that they are female! At the same time I am filled with a sense of pride and empowerment when I hear about women beating the heck out of a molester or assaulter.
No one asks for it! No one.

C'est la vie II

Thank you to everyone to expressed concern following my previous post. Things are (almost) back on track if not looking up. Yesterday was strange.
I woke up wanting to take the day off and said to myself that all I needed was a sign. Stopped off at the library on the way to work, checked out a dozen books and as carried them out and set them down I was suddenly aware of a throbbing pain in the little finger on my right hand. Further inspection showed that it had proceeded to turn blue and was slowly but steadily becoming numb. The university health centre was not far and I half-heartedly trudged along to it, fully expecting to be told (rudely!) that a doctor was not available, as usual. I marched up to reception and thrust my, now swollen beyond recognition, finger in the lady's face and she promptly took me in to see the nurse who, at first glance, asked if I had been stung by a bee. After I convinced her that it was no bee she had a Eureka moment and said 'I know what this is, you've ruptured a blood vessel!' (with a huge smile of her face!!). WTF!! ruptured a blood vessel?! I'm not even 25 yet!!
That did it, I wept like a baby - all the stress of the last month and a half pouring out of my eyes but I wasn't bawling, I was smiling - at the irony of it all.
Havent' we all heard people say to us 'Calm down you'll burst a blood vessel at this rate?'. Ok maybe we all don't grow up hearing that but growing up in my 'doctor type' household we heard it a lot and it was so damned ironic that it had actually happened.
So after the tears came the trepidation. The obvious question to me, and of course I asked the nurse this, 'So i'm bursting blood vessels now, what if it bursts in my head next?!'. She thought this was mighty funny and laughed and then realising that I was serious consoled me and said it was probably the weight of all the books and I had just hit my finger yada ya.
Anyhow, this was of course the sign I had been waiting for all morning and I headed off home in all my blue and black g(l)ory. A frantic phone call to my dad followed and a hurried checking of arms and legs to ensure that I wasn't going on a blood-vessel bursting spree! This was then followed by some wisdom from mom where she told me that if a brain aneurysm was to happen there was nothing anyone could do about it so live life king size - today! That's my mom, the eternal tough love optimist.
Back home, fed and content I fell into a deep, dreamy slumber till 5 pm! Ah! 'twas a good day!

C'est la vie

If you had asked me six months back where in life I was I would have sworn to all my Gods and all of yours that I had officially dismounted the roller-coaster. Turns out man proposes and fate disposes - I' am very much back on the roller coaster. So much so that events have taken a turn not just for the unexpected but for the downright bizarre and so much remains to be sorted out and taken care of that lately I've been feeling like an intruder in my own skin.
I'm craving time, perspective and introspection. I'm craving answers to all the whys and wherefores. And until then I am taking life one hassle at a time!
'Good luck' you might say. 'I need a miracle' - I might reply. And in my heart of hearts the miracle doesn't seem too far off.

A birthday wish!

My sister turned 21 today. Seems just like yesterday that I was taken to the hospital and told that the bawling, shriveled little mess in the crib was my baby sister. Needless to say I did not appreciate her much and really could not be convinced that having a sister was fun!
While my parents named her 'Nandini' to mean 'mother of the sun', I had other plans and christened her 'Gundali' to mean .. well nothing at all. Over the years this nickname has been used, misused and abridged to 'Gundu' so much so that very few people know her actual name.
Today she is at the 21 milestone and she sure as heck has a lot to show for it. A dancer trained in classical, Irish and contemporary dancing styles, I am a mere manager and spectator to her dancing prowess. She has even managed to make a name for herself in Canberra and in the process compelled me to attend numerous Indian functions, something I had avoided like the plague prior to her arrival.
I can wax eloquent about her dancing, singing, writing and academic talents but that will not do justice to the person that she is. A fiercely loyal friend and sister who is ready to take on the world for the people she cares about. She still believes in the inherent goodness of the world and of everyone in it. Always ready to lend a helping hand (provided it doesn't mean staying up past bed-time!) and willing to listen.
The last twenty one years have been a blessing and an adventure and I would just like to say that I'm lucky to have her.

Happy Birthday G!!

A reason to smile!

Incidentally, seems like Easter (at least the start of it) was a time of good tidings. I got upgraded to business class on my Sydney-Auckland flight. Things like this just don't happen to me. As I handed over my passport to the rather sombre lady at the Lan counter she typed away and then took my boarding pass and went off to an adjacent counter and promptly proceeded to wave the said pass all over another lady's face gesturing madly. 'I've had it!' I thought - somethings' wrong with my passport, maybe its that microscopic bend of the cover pages that I never smoothed out by keeping them under the mattress for a week, or worse still does my picture not look like me? Did I bring my sister's passport instead of mine?!
As the lady walked back to the counter I was all set to start sobbing in despair for waking up at 4 am and being tired and sleepy and now awaiting impending doom! She sat down and typed away again and then very conspiratorially whispered "We are giving you a complimentary upgrade to business class, enjoy your flight'. It took more than a few seconds for the magnitude of it all to register - business class?! me?! WoW! Because, you see, things like this don't happen to me.
My fate is more the kind where people behind me and in front of me and all around me will get upgrades and I will still have my economy ticket.
Anyway so momentary elation duly followed as I thought 'yippee' and 'they owe me one for all the money i've spent on air travel!', then momentary apprehension set in wherein I reasoned that since I have got the upgrade sure enough I would be seated next to a bawling baby for the next 3.5 hours, but then elation prevailed and I proceeded to enjoy the thought of an upcoming business class journey all the while clutching the boarding pass tight.
And rightly so, I board the flight just to see that all and sundry have been upgraded and the person seated next to me was so big he needed an extension to the standard seatbelt!
However, the seats were comfortable, the service passable and barring the man seated next to me who proceeded to recline his seat rather far back and fall into a noisy slumber, the journey was worth it. Would I pay for a Business Class seat on Lan Chile - not even if I had money to throw away! But I will take the complimentary upgrade with a rather large smile on the face!

Home and Away

After a weekend of highs comes the unavoidable low - of being back in Canberra. While the five day holiday went by in the blink of an eye it was as good a weekend as any other spent back home.
Doing nothing is an art, a hobby and it is virtually impossible for some people! Like mothers, they cannot sit down and do nothing. They insist on doing everything while their kids are in town and quite frankly I don't mind one bit! Yet I feel guilty sometimes, a 25 year old with arms and legs in perfect working condition lazing on the couch all day long but then I think about my 70 year old grandmother who still will not let my dad lift a finger while we are home with her!
I guess we will always be that age to our parents and they will always get an unfathomable satisfaction from feeding, clothing and generally pampering us.
Even the thought of going home relaxes me, my shoulders drop and I lose the proverbial crease in the brow.
This trip was great! Caught up with V and her MOTH and had an enjoyable evening with my dad regaling us with tales of his childhood, interspersed with my mother and her additions to them.
I miss home, I miss my folks and I miss New Zealand.
Especially when the only thing welcoming me back to Canberra is rain and sub-zero temperatures.

Rhythm and Rhyme

Have been inspired by Megz's posts to write about my favourite poems! Unlike my vast and varied taste in music, my taste in poetry is rather narrow, some might even call it conservative. My all time favourite poems are three in number. IF by Rudyard Kipling, Tiger and Auguries of Innocence by William Blake. These masterpieces of language and rhyme need no synopsis. Each is an epic in itself and explains the concept as beautifully as it embodies the brilliance of the poet. Never have I read so graceful a description of a perfect life nor one so powerful to describe the tiger, the juxtaposition of good and evil presented in Auguries is exemplary. These poems are not only perfect in technical execution but also represent the simplicity of poetry.
I like poems that rhyme and am not a strong believer or supporter of the 'new-age' techno poetry which usually reads
'a chair, I sat
and looked
black, black, black
and a bird
flew'
While some people can pretend to find the deeper philosophy of life in such writing, personally I do not concur. To me this is not much different from trying to find 'art' in a painting of a soup can (deepest sympathies to all Warhol fans!).
There are other pieces of writing that have struck a chord - Shakespeare's sonnets 18 and 91, 'Charge of the light brigade' by Tennyson, 'The solitary reaper' by Wordsworth, 'La Belle Dame Sans Merci' by Keats, Gitanjali by Tagore and 'Highwayman' by Noyes.
Do read if and when you find time.

Thoughts on a horrible incident

As I was almost done with my morning ritual of blog-surfing, I happened to read one about the recent murder of a British tourist in Goa. I do not actively keep up with happenings in and around India so this came as news to me and upon further googling it turns out that over the last 6-7 months, such rapes and murders are becoming more commonplace in Goa, which is one of the most sought after tourist destinations in India.
Most of the details including the arrest of two people, can be found online. What I gathered, in a nutshell, is that 15 yr old Scarlett's family which consisted of her mother and 8 other siblings were on a 6 month holiday in India with her mother's boyfriend. At some point during this trip, Scarlett stayed behind in Goa while her mother and the rest of the family took off to a neighbouring state. Her mother left her with a tour-guide and his aunt who would be 'responsible' for Scarlett. The girl was supposed to meet up with her family the day after she was found raped and murdered on a beach in Goa.
I can get my head around most of the facts of this case. Not in that it was right or expected but in that it happened. What I cannot get my head around is this article. My initial reaction to reading the details was open-mouthed shock at how a mother can leave her 15 year old daughter with a strange man in Goa, a place filled with alcohol, drugs (oh come on!) and parties!
Stranger still is how the lady in the article seems to think that it is alright and how such behaviour might be alien to 'conventional, upright' citizens. She goes on to say that children should be trusted at some point and they should be allowed to take safe risks - this I agree with. The question is at what point and under which circumstances can you trust your child.
You could trust them to ride the bus to school or not to spend their lunch money on buying dirty magazines. You could trust them to stay at home while you are out and not indulge in socially disturbing activities. After all what is a safe risk? To me it is a risk wherein if things go horribly wrong, the outcome will not harm you or anyone else. Endangering one's life is not a safe risk!
To be the devil's advocate - a 15 year old had no business to be out drinking till 4 am and taking all manner of drugs available. Yet, at 15 you think you are invincible.
So I would like to throw this question out into the blogosphere - what do you make of all this?

Notes on the music they make - 1

A lot of people talk about music on their blogs. Songs they like, song's they write and even sing themselves! I have tried time and again to pen my thoughts on the songs that mean something to me. So far I've been largely unsuccessful - partly because the task is gargantuan and mostly because I find myself torn between favorites. Yet, music is very close to my heart and methinks I absolutely must blog about it so I've decided, rather presumptuously, to write about songs as they appear in my head. True, they do randomly pop in and are hard to get out thereafter, yet mostly they follow a theme. A dull day demands a certain drone and the sun commands a peppy jig.
So in keeping with this today I will talk about my 'faith' songs! Contrary to assumption these are not gospel choir type songs, ok maybe one is, but mostly songs I've listened to during the bluesy periods of life and they've stuck with me, to be repeated often.

'November Rain' by Guns 'n' Roses - This song is golden. Most of the songs by GnR are not my cup of tea and I skip them but this song is just brilliant. It is intense and strikes chords I didn't know I had! The guitar pieces are exceptionally executed - enough said, go listen!

'Father Figure' by George Micheal - This song has sex appeal like no other I've heard. It is flooded with emotion, desire and longing. I dare any hot-blooded female to listen to this song and not go weak in the knees!

'Nigahen mastana' from the movie Paying Guest - Im a sucker for the Dev Anand-Rafi combination, and song imbibes the romance and the innocence as beautifully and effortlessly as it plays with tune and tempo.

'Woman in Love' by Barbara Streisand - I grew up on this song. It is one of my mom's favorites and even today I find myself humming it and it fills me with a warm feeling of home and peace very unlike the angst and desperation it conveys.

'Brick in the Wall' by Pink Floyd - my first and last of Pink Floyd. Never followed their music much but this song stuck with me. Brings back memories of lazy days with cousins when we partied and sang and laughed and cried. When my cousin got married, in honor of her wedding, we 'performed' a version of this song complete with a harmonium and jhanj (manjira) and people clapping to keep time!

'Tere mere sapne' from the movie Guide - my father's favourite song and another one that I was raised on. A brilliant rendition by Rafi. This song has a soul of its own.

'Mary did you know' - I first heard this song sung by my friend and never felt the need to listen to the original. He is an excellent singer and performed this duet with another friend of his, who also has a beautiful and powerful voice (http://achintoommenthomas.net/auth/albums.htm). This song helps to soothe the disturbed soul.

'Sacrifice' by Elton John - The song, to me, is poetry. It is abstract, deep and penetrating.

As always, this list will be updated from time to time and other lists will be made, however, words could never do justice to the magic that is music.

Quantum nature of life

Nothing in life is black or white. Things are both black and white all at once until they are discussed. Once discussed they are set to either black or white.

Another book review among other goings on.

'Infidel' by Ayaan Hirsi Ali is another in the growing pile of 'life of Islamic women' type books that I have read of late. This time the setting is Africa and the tale just as gruesome as any other told hitherto. At first I assumed that the incidents narrated in these books had been largely exaggerated and over-dramatised to create a strong selling point. However, after reading so many, first hand accounts, it is hard to ignore the single most important message in them all. I will refrain from stating that message here but it is plain to those that read.
I am as yet undecided of whether books are to be maintained as accounts for posterity or treated as a cry for help. If one should read them for knowledge or glean from them an understanding of a problem that underlies our global society and is affecting humanity.
At times I am gripped with anger and a sense of urgency that makes me want to quit this rat-race altogether and take on the world for these women. At other times I feel hopeless or worse still don't feel much at all!
* ADDED LATER
The book really takes off in the last hundred pages. As Ayaan describes how she came to terms with her religion, God and the lack of humanity I was left open-mouthed at the bold frankness of it all. I was equally amazed and shocked at the simplicity with which she has listed shortcomings and solutions. Truly a bold book!

Writers' Block.

It's that time again. When all my thoughts, instead of flowing eloquently choose to run around themselves in circles - either appearing all at one time or not appearing at all.
I feel like I've said it all... or haven't said enough.

I write when I am upset. It's better than hurting someone physically!

It's one of those days again. Canberra has had many of those days lately. Slightly cloudy, sometimes windy sometimes calm, chill in the air. The kind that makes you want to snuggle into a blanket with a good book and a hot cup of chai.
I have almost finished reading Exodus by Leon Uris. My review of a book that has broken all records would just be a drop in the vast ocean of appreciation. This book is brilliant! It is flawless in its idea, planning and execution - much like the Jews it talks about. Since reading it I have been up in arms about the injustice meted out to this community and can only be bewildered that the rest of the world all but sat and watched. One of life's greatest mysteries, at least to me, is how, while one human being commits atrocity another can be a silent spectator.
Some might say that it is better to take this book for what it is. A novel written by a Jewish man. So, even if he has wildly exaggerated a fact - the facts still remain. No amount of underplaying or exaggerating can change the horrific treatment of a sect of people - much like the rest of us.
I don't think I have it in me to watch the movie.
Made a resolution of sorts a few weeks ago - to buy books only from the 2nd hand store for this year. The logic being that one less book bought somehow amounts to one less book published which means one less tree cut.

Jo Tha Akbar!

After a brief tiff over whether or not HR was right in the role of the legendary Mughal emporer Akbar, the much hyped Jodha Akbar was watched on Saturday night.
I am a sucker for all things regal. My, half-baked, explanation being that their lives meant something. The palaces, the laws, the rules. Their daily existence was governed by something - good, bad, right or wrong is not for us to judge. They lives meant honor and courage. Sometimes even justice! The clothes they wore, the colours of which signified something - rank, celebration, an important occasion. They didn't just throw on the first pair of jeans and half ironed shirt that lay strewn on the chair after being discarded the previous day. They didn't eat their food on the run as they rushed to get to work on time.
Just like Ashutosh Gowarikar's other creations, Lagaan and Swades, this film too is a little gem. It has his trademark restraint as a director. It is elegant without being garish like Sanjay Leela Bhansali's dripping-in-gold type. It would leave its impact whether watched on tele or on the big screen. While watching Lagaan I could almost sense the sweat and blood. Same with Swades that had the fragrance of soil and camphor. Jodhaa Akbar has the whiff of blood coupled with a floral scent. History is open to debate and interpretation, yet the message is loud and clear for those who will hear.
Finally, Hrithik Roshan, in all his Greek God - like glory does no wrong!

Don't quote me!

" It's always either pre-MS, MS or post-MS. So, don't ever hold me responsible for my actions!"
- Me

Quirks? Me?

I've been tagged by Mad Momma, whose blog I now frequent.

The Rules:

- Link to the person that tagged you.

- Post the rules on your blog.

- Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.

- Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.

- Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.

1. I avoid cutting my nails after sunset or on Saturdays - silly superstition? Maybe!
2. I have to always get up at least once after going to bed, to check something (doors, taps, TV, switches etc).
3. I remember useless details like faces of the 'extras' in Bollywood songs and I can name other songs they were in.
4. I went through a phase where I had to serve myself food even number of times.
5. I always wear/carry a jumper/jacket with me -always!
6. I have never bunked a lecture in four years of university.

It's crazy how much trouble I had with that tag! And it's crazier still that blogger now refuses to revert back to normal font.

In turn I tag Megz, Amruta, Vatsa, Mayu, Ashanka and Abhilasha!

What not to do?

Just learned that the 'Great' Britain is coming up with 'etiquette guidelines' for immigrants. This in the form of a 'welcome pack' that will 'highlight' the 'rules' of the country and something they expect new entrants to abide by. 'A good idea' you say?
And pray what are these rules? Believe it or not they are things like 'Don't touch people without permission (!!??!!), don't spit in the street, don't play loud music and send your kids to school.

"Information packs are a way of getting that info across - providing a rough guide to the country, the county and the city and helping to ensure that new arrivals avoid doing or saying things that might upset local settled communities or getting into trouble with the law," says the Communities Secretary Hazel Blears, while the information is in perfect contradiction to this statement!

My family migrated to New Zealand about 10 years ago. We were provided with relevant information and my folks, for the life of them, could not imagine not sending us to school or telling us it's ok to spit in the streets. Nor was it considered ok to use foul language on buses or at teachers (a regular occurance on the school bus or in classes!). All this was not thanks to a patronising information pack provided by the government of the community. Rather, it was a initiative taken by us regardless of which country we inhabited.
This pack does not welcome as much as it demeans a person entering a country. If someone at Auckland airport had the cheek to tell me or my parents that we must not spit on the streets of 'their country' they would be in for an earful! However, if they had told us how to register with the local GP or how to enroll at the local schools it would have been mighty helpful.
A more useful venture would be to provide 'youth packs' for 'children' leaving school informing them of what exactly manners and etiquette mean. This should be targeted at 14-24 yr olds who really have no notion of acceptable behaviour, at least in public.What say?
See what http://thebratthebeanandbedlam.wordpress.com/2008/02/07/manners-for-immigrants-tantric-sex/#comment-14611 has to say about 'welcome packs' for people entering India :-D!

My friend asked me the other day why I feel an inexplicable emotion towards lonely and seemingly abandoned old people on the streets and none at all for babies in prams. They make my heart ache and my eyes well up.
I remember when I was about 8 years old and on the bus to school. An old man got on and not a single person moved to give him a seat. I did and he looked so stunned that it took him a few minutes to realise what I had done and seat himself.
Even today I help old people cross streets, shelter them under my umbrella when it rains and once I have even carried an old man's groceries up to the steps of his house from the bus stop. I cannot bear to watch old people eat their lunch alone on a park bench or watch a movie alone. It makes me want to cry. In school I volunteered at an old age home for one week along with two friends. We all can safely say that it is an experience we will carry with us for as long as we shall live. There have been times when the old person doesn't really want my help and has made this clear in as many words - yet I persevere.
You must realise that this is very unnatural for me. I am a rather cold and practical person. If someone sticks a baby in my arms, I don't gush all over it. I am fairly neutral towards babies, beggars, old beggars and most animals. I contribute towards Green Peace and the Wildlife fund because I believe in preserving nature and wildlife- but my eyes don't well up at a dying animal (except elephants!) or a cut tree. But lonely, tired looking, old people - they can make me weep like I've just cut an onion!
So back to answering the original question of 'Why' - I am really not sure. It may have something to do with the fact that my family lived with my paternal grandparents when I was growing up and to this day they still call me every Sunday night at 8 pm. It may be because our locality for at least the first 10 years of my life was filled with old people and I would see them go for walks in the evening with their walking sticks, in groups of 2 or 3 and they would stop to chat with my grandparents and with me. It could also be because my grandparents have, to me, personified dignity, brilliance and forward-thinking (individually!) very unlike others I have met.
Whatever it is - it's my weakness.

I am not an e-bay virgin anymore!!
I bid on a Friends complete 10 season DVD set and won!! Picked it up yesterday and this weekend is going to be spent in, what I hope will be, 'friendly' bliss. I got into Friends a lot later than most of my counterparts. Partly because it wasn't something that I could watch with my parents. It was a a 'coming of age' comedy and mine happened a little later than most other people my age. So anyhow, now I am officially hooked and had been wanting to own the box set for quite a while, now I do!
Seriously though, it helps me in ways I would have never thought possible. I do not have a close friends circle in Canberra anymore. And anyone that knows me knows that I am nothing without friends. I love having people to hang out with, have coffee with, talk to for hours over the phone. My friends have helped me thorough all good and bad phases of my life.
Now, Im not implying that via the TV show I enter some delusional world where these 'Friends' are my friends but in watching the shows I am reminded of times with my own set of close friends and it does to brighten my days.
Here's to watching all 10 seasons!

If wishes were horses...

The life that I want:
A hill-top house overlooking the ocean. A huge bed with Egyptian cotton sheets and a balcony with lie-back chairs. Wake up in the morning and shower in a black tiled bathroom. Have breakfast in an airy, sunny kitchen/dining and head off to work in my sleek-black car (the make and model of which varies in my head!). Work is on the top floor of a high rise and even though the details of the job are blurred, everyday I do something I love and so the time passes quickly. The weather is sun with a cool breeze, I don't even mind the occasional drizzle or clouds (no heavy rain!). There are parks and people and the bustle of life to weave through on the way back home and once home there is a warm cup of tea, maybe a hot-bath with some good music. Dinner is home-cooked almost always and ranges from Indian to anything else exotic. Some TV on a flat-screen before heading to bed.

The life I have:
Bottom-floor apartment where almost all the sunlight is blocked off by huge bushes. No bed - just two mattresses piled one on the other. Struggle to wake up each morning, no time to make breakfast or eat it. If I have bought Up 'n' Go then that is breakfast! Rush to work in my bottle green Suzuki (which is the highlight of my day) with good music playing. Work is in the middle of nowhere and usually involves spending the day in the lab in the basement with no windows. Weather is either scorching hot or freezing cold with a few pleasant days thrown in. There is barren land, no people and no bustle of life. Once home there are dishes to do and bathroom and kitchen to clean. Dinner is usually last night's leftovers or takeaway (I try to cook as often as energy permits!). Some DVDs, on a Dick Smith DVD player bought for $60 which stops working as and when it pleases, to watch before falling asleep on the couch.

Now that I read the life I have - it doesnt sound half bad!

My hair is, as of yesterday, officially a vector! It not only has magnitude and velocity but it has direction! In fact more so in life than I do at the moment!
Chemical straightening y'all - do it and take the stress of the hair and yourself!

For the love of the game

Do you think in blogs? Of late I do! Any event that I think is worth writing about translates itself into a little story.
So, last weekend was blissfully spent in Melbourne at the Australian Open! Amidst the brilliant atmosphere, good seats and heaps of junk food. Watching tennis live is an experience in itself. So this year the list of sightings included Sharapova, Justine Henin, the Williams sisters, Nadal, Sania Mirza and Leander Paes (to name a few!) Bloody brilliant!
Next year it will be Fed, Roddick, Djokovic and (by the looks of it!) Tipseravic!
Speaking of lists - another blogger wrote about her list. You know the list.
Here's mine: Not in any order, just off the top of my head

Roger Federer - For sheer effortless power
Prince William - understated regality
Matthew McConeghey - rugged good looks
Hrithik Roshan - the moves!
Hugh Jackman - Have you seen 'Scoop'?!!
Will Smith - That smile
Kyle Chandler - The looks again
Matthew Perry - actually the character he plays 'Chandler'

Of course this list, like all others is subject to additions and omissions but Im happy in that it is fairly non-standard, what say?
Would love to know yours!

Shoe woes

So my blog sidebar now proudly sports 'Shelfari' and a small collection of what I've read so far and my feet proudly sport the cheapest and most comfortable shoes I have ever owned. I buy expensive shoes - i.e running shoes, trainers etc. All branded and all utterly comfortable. Ever since I can remember I have had trouble with two pieces of attire, shoes and jeans. My father solemnly vowed never to come shoe shopping with me but had to, very reluctantly, every birthday. My mother is vehemently opposed to shop for jeans for me and luckily for her my friends and my sister (half!) willingly oblige.
I have strange feet. Long and narrow. For some reason shoe-makers in Australia and New Zealand decided that long feet must be wide, same goes for jeans. Luckily Indians were smarter!
The comfort factor rates very high on my list when buying shoes. Hence, I only end up spending a bomb on sneakers/runners. The width of which can be fixed by tying the laces on nice and tight.
My feet are, more often than not, clad in socks and stuffed into a pair of Adidas/Nike/Basics runners.
Canberra summer decided that socks and runners are for the faint-hearted and when I was all but ready to pass out from the oven that were my shoes - I decided that I needed to buy a pair of slip-ons for summer (I am not allowed to wear open-toed stuff to work). A quick trip to the shoe shops revealed that nothing had changed - not the length of my feet nor the width of the shoes. I finally decided on a pair and bought 'em only to find myself limping in them the following day. 'It happens' they said. 'New shoes always bite, put a band-aid on it for a few days' and I did. I also gritted my teeth and endured the fact that the shoes although the right width didn't seem to be long enough for my foot and prayed hard that somehow they would grow into my feet!
Well 10 days later, here I am, proud owner of a pair of slip-ons that, magically, seem to have grown into my feet (not to mention the nights of stuffing them with balls of paper and cardboard!). Unfortunately a pair of jeans purchased a year ago refuse to concede.
Incidentally, on a completely unrelated note, does anyone know how to eat a kebab without making a mess. If you do I need some pointers. Why is it that kebab vendors do not understand the meaning of 'little sauce'. Generosity is not appreciated in these matters. I wish I had taken a picture of the godawful mess that was my kebab-lunch this afternoon. If any one of those kebab-vendors can eat one in front of me without making a mess - I'll eat my newly grown shoe!

Offs and Ons

The only thing sadder than window-less labs is finding out that -1 people read your blog. Judging by the comments left, or lack thereof, I can only assume that my writing has gone to 'heck in a handbasket'. Pray tell me what happens to them creative juices when they are forced to reckon with the likes of a PhD, the related thesis and the aforementioned window-less labs - they too go to 'heck in a handbasket'.
I was going to say that today I shall don the garb of entertainer while discarding the disguise of a Physicist - but that will do nothing more than raise the bar and that I don't need right now.
On the reading front, apart from the lack-lustre journal papers, to which I am about to add my own lack-lustre contribution, I have managed to read The Alchemist and Shame. The former needs no introduction and the latter is by an author of Indian origin, Jasvinder Sanghera. Rather than writing about sugar-coated Indian things like 'smell of camphor, spices and flower coupled with dung and despair' and how 'the demure Indian girl adjusts to the western lifestyle', Sanghera writes about the harsh reality of western vs. Indian conventions and the (mis) treatment of women. What intrigued and interested me most was that the story (true as it is) is set in a conventional Sikh household and not a Muslim one so the stereo-types are the same with a different background and therefore a new perspective.
As 'feminist' books are being thrust at me from all angles I feel the need to clarify my stand on this issue - I will say this and only this - Feminism should be a cry for equality not female dominance. Many 'radical' feminists of my generation seem to miss this very basic point.
On a brighter note - I am off to watch the Australian Open this weekend - hoping that the weather keeps its promise yet manages to spare us its worst. I love Melbourne. Its a beautiful, vibrant city and it has treated me with the respect I think I deserve, with every visit.. It is a place where one can be creative, very unlike Canberra, where one must fight to keep one's spirit alive. With tickets in hand to, what I am hoping will be, a Federer vs. Somebody game one I can barely contain my excitement. My cousin said to me today that watching Fed play is so boring because he is too good. Granted. BUT it is the effortlessness he exhibits that I find thrilling. I cannot forget a Fed vs. Roddick match I watched some years ago - while Roddick was melting Fed had barely broken a sweat!
Much awaited rain has finally wet the Canberra earth and so celebration is called for, I reckon. Hot tea and some of my mother's chocolate cake (that is currently being eaten in slivers!) is warranted.

Can't think of a title

On Tuesday, 27th of March, 2007, I wrote a blog entry about the Indian Cricket team and the fiasco that was Cricket World Cup 2007.
10 months on and here I am trying to gather my thoughts about the abomination that is the India vs. Australia series. Sports columnists, youtube and the public have all voiced their opinions on the disgraceful umpiring, Australian arrogance and general mistreatment of the Indians on this tour and for once I agree with them. Any monkey could see that Dravid was not out (no pun intended!).
Personally I have never agreed with sledging in a game. I think it kills the spirit of the game and there is a fine line between what is acceptable and what is not. How can one adhere to a set of rules regarding sledging on a playing field. There are racial barriers and then there are personal barriers both quite easy to cross, maybe even unintentionally.
Similarly I find it hard to agree with the fact that a fielder knows best whether or not he took a fair catch. Under situations of immense stress and pressure (not to mention the financial consequences!) the brain does not function normally (again any monkey knows that!) . The last thing a player can do is judge whether or not he is right. As far as he is concerned he is right unless proven wrong. The facts are right there people - make your decision.

On another note: it is mid January and time to summarise lessons learned from last year:

1. A driving licence (read hundreds of dollars expenditure!) is just a pass to put reckless people on the road- in a car!

2. People treat speed limits as a challenge.
3. I have road rage
4. Canberra weather and the city itself is only suited to masochists.
And finally perhaps the most important lesson of all:

5. To have a successful relationship one must share, not their likes, but their dislikes!

And what a holiday it was!

Ive been hit hard by the 'after holiday' blues. After two weeks of (mostly) sun and sand and more sun, a badly tanned I am finally back to Canberra and back to work.
No dearth of sun here though with the earth baking in predominantly high 30s temperatures. What is lacking is my home and my family. I had not gone home for one long year i.e all of 2007 and leaving home once again to face, what will decidedly be, a year of hard work and sleepless nights, was possibly the worst feeling.
However, whenever I feel the tears coming on that I must choke back, it makes me more determined to finish this blasted PhD and head home!
In my dazed state at the airport, having bid farewell to my mom and sister, I bought a New Zealand souvenir calender and it has done wonders to brighten the day. I am seriously contemplating covering every inch of the white walls of my office with scenic shots of NZ - just to show these pale, life-deprived people what they are missing.
Its amazing what the sight of clear blue water, rolling hills and blue skies will do to cheer up the dull mind. Try it! [consider that my handy hint for 2008]

Happy New Year!

My year in 3 sentences - '2007 has been a year full of pleasant and unpleasant surprises. Fulfilling in terms of seeing the world and exciting in terms of meeting old family and new people. While some aspects of my life are back on track others still wallow in the depths of despair'.

I guess there is always 2008 to pull those wallowing ones out and put them on track. Thank you to everyone who has been a part of my life over the last 24 years. I trust that some of you enjoyed it enough to stick around for the next 24 years.

It is the last day at work before the Christmas break. Of course this would warrant early closure and one would half expect everyone to just mingle happily and talk about plans for the festive season and so on. Well, not physicists. They would rather discuss what they will do when they get back the official second offices open.
I knew early on that this was not for me - and it has been confirmed now. When I began writing this blog (in my head last night) it flowed easily. It was filled with humorous anecdotes of the year gone by. Somehow those thoughts elude me now.
So Merry Christmas everyone! and a Happy New Year!

'One could not count the moons ...'

...that shimmer on her roofs, or a thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls“. - Tebrizi
As mentioned in my earlier post (and therefore you were forewarned!) I have here a book review - as promised. On saturday I began and finished reading 'A Thousand Splendid Suns' by Khaled Hosseini. From the, now acclaimed, author of ' The Kite Runner', this book traces the life and times of two Afghan women. This book is a woman's book. It captures the essence of being a woman more so in a political atmosphere where being female was nothing short of a curse.
Hosseini demonstrates a unique and tremendous understanding of the female psyche. It seems like a woman's story from a woman's perspective. The insight provided is brilliant!
'...Splendid Suns' is in a very different vein to 'The Kite Runner'. While the latter might be characterised as gripping the former is riveting. Both books, to me, were equally haunting.
Several books have been written about the plight of women in Islamic, war-stricken countries but none so written in so beautiful and poetic a manner. It is gruesome without being gory and terrifying without being graphic.
This book is almost a painting. It has hues and texture is as much as it has words and a story. Buy this book, read it and cherish it as a memoir, an ode and a tribute to all those women.

Back

There is plenty to write about even without breaking down the year in three sentences (I am going to try to do that for the blog at the end of this year - 'My year in 3 sentences' - why 3, I don't know!).
So I went to India for my sister's wedding (and before you start bombarding my 20 yr old blood-sister with queries, it was my cousin's wedding!) and for once the whole family would be there. No I mean the whole family. Brilliant!
So after an exhausting day of air travel and more air travel within the land where i was given birth, the land that gave me my skin-colour and immunity to harmful virus and bacteria (do you know HOW immune we Indians are!) we finally arrived in good 'ol Bhopal. I say good 'ol because that city has not changed since I was about 10. Well it has changed a little in that some paan shops might have been replaced by shopping malls and you can buy everything from an Irish pin to an Italian piano there!
The wedding was fantastic to say the least. I never thought of myself as a wedding person but needless to say we all got caught up in the excitement of things and after one impromptu 'musical-skit' and several pats on the back for carrying on the family 'drama' genes, I was well and truly in.
Good food, good wine, good music and excellent conversation.
My family is, for want of a better adjective, stimulating. We fight, we argue, we laugh, we cry and then we hug and bid goodbye only to do it all again at the next gathering. Stick us all in one room and give us room - we will change the world!
I miss my family. For better or for worse we are who we are and we are related to who we are and nothing can change that.
Memories of this trip will last forever. So P and S - Wish you both a very happy married life!

Of other things. I am back in Canberra as of Friday last and since then things have gone from dull to duller. Watched Aaja Nachle, as I had to pay my tribute (and $12) to MD - she being my all time favourite actress 'n all. One must give her full credit for making a comeback and what a fantastic figure she cut after having two kids! Very commendable!
Have brought back a ton of books from India and am making my way slowly but surely through them. So watch this space for some book reviews.