Moving Into A New Place

One would have thought of home as a place where you sleep, cook, eat, relax, entertain guests, keep all your belongings and so on. But wait, it is a lot more. When we live in a comfortable house, we take many things for granted, only to realize the worth of each and every thing when we have to move out of it.

Currently we are looking for a place to rent and have encountered several humorous situations during our hunt. My mental check-list starts ticking the moment we reach the proposed apartment building. Some streets bearing grandiose names such as Judges Avenue turn out to be narrow, dusty lanes where you wonder how your mover's truck will make it should you decide to take up the apartment on offer. Then the parking lot being promised for your car may turn out to be a small open space with hardly any room for manoeuvre, where parking a four-wheeler could be an expert driver's nightmare.

Large complexes and townships often have their own back-up systems for power, but smaller buildings having just a handful of apartments are generally without this luxury. It is in buildings like this that you have to be careful about how high your proposed accommodation is. A third or fourth floor (and anything above it) may become hard to negotiate if there are frequent power cuts when the lift is reduced to a small, dark cubicle incapable of taking you anywhere.

Once the approach road to the apartment, parking space for your car and lift is done with, the person "showing" you the place comes into action. A proud father ushering us into his expatriate daughter's apartment waxed eloquent about the unique doorbell that his darling daughter had installed at her place, and how it could be operated even if there was no power, and how it made different sounds every time it was pressed, and how special it was to her. I was tempted to ask the doting father if this bell even detected the visitors and unlatched the door for them, but didn't get a chance to do so since he had moved ahead in the living room towards the door leading to the balcony.

The mother of an apartment owner recently underlined the grievous absence of a well-defined place to keep your footwear at the doorstep before entering any home and went on to show us a small "teakwood" cabinet which she had thoughtfully placed at the entrance for this purpose. Her friends were aghast that she was giving away such a beautiful piece of furniture for her daughter's tenants, but she was determined in this matter, she said.

Most landlords like to regale their prospective tenants with detailed accounts of how they got some modifications done in their property to make it more suitable to their needs. But in their enthusiasm to show these wonderful amenities to others, they often forget that their needs need not always match with what a tenant is looking for. One such gentleman had disabled a bathroom in his brand-new flat in order to allow the maid to clean utensils there. And this utensil-cleaning-room-which-would-have-been-a-bathroom was opening right into the living room! Another building had a lift which was designed to stop between floors. So, after you get out of the lift, you have about eight steps to climb up or down. A compulsory exercise for compulsive lift-users!

We have had enthusiastic family members of apartment-owners insist that we take a look under the washbasin in a bathroom and see how cleverly they have made provisions for hiding the mop and the bucket there. A certain gentleman was ecstatic about the master bathroom being equipped with two washbasins, his and hers! They go about opening cupboards under the kitchen platforms displaying revolving racks for keeping bottles, drawing your attention towards the mirror that suddenly appears when one opens a cupboard in the bedroom, and opening the taps in various sinks and washbasins to assure you about the "abundant" water supply. A loving mother even pulled out pictures of her daughter's and son's families who had chosen to reside in distant lands, entrusting their aged parents with the task of taking care of their investments and property in their hometown.

However amusing these stories might be, I do realize that they are sincere efforts on the part of homeowners and their families to find a good tenant for their property ( salaried people with small families are often the most coveted tenants). It is as important for an owner to find a good tenant as it is for a tenant to find a good place. And if one can strike a deal without a broker, it is ideal given that brokers charge a month's rent from both the parties. What kind of deal we ultimately strike remains to be seen.

A Date With Fossils

I chanced upon a little-known place during a visit to Pondicherry recently. The National Fossil Wood Park at Thiruvakkarai in Tamil Nadu is located just 20 kilometers from Pondicherry. It was clear that the park is not frequented by too many people. We had to stop a couple of times to ask some locals for directions before we finally made it there. A small blue board bears the name of the park. The park is small too. Actually, the fossils are scattered over 247 acres, but only a small portion is accessible to visitors. Strewn across the park are wood fossils of various shapes and sizes.They range between three and 15 meters in length and up to five meters in girth. And what is amazing is that these fossils are some 20 million years old!

They look as if they were dried trunks of trees, woody and complete with concentric rings. But you are in for a surprise when you touch them. They feel exactly like stone. Once upon a time, they had been trees. They turned into rock when their organic material got replaced with silica. This process of petrification usually takes place underground, when the wood gets buried under sediment. Lack of oxygen prevents it from getting decomposed. Now, if mineral-rich water flowing through the sediment deposits minerals in the plant's cells, the plant tissue turns into stone gradually. And so here they are...relics from the past...rarest of rare links connecting us with something that existed on this earth several millenniums ago. This unique baggage of history makes the fossils truly special.

Scientists' view is that these trees did not originally grow here. They were transported to this location before their petrification. According to folklore, they are the broken bones of a demon who was defeated by Lord Vishnu in a combat. Whether one believes this or not, what strikes one is the general feeling of apathy towards this park. It comes under the Geological Survey of India and it would be ideal if they could maintain and promote it for tourists as well as students. A trip to the park could be an interesting and educational excursion, if it is made more visible amongst the well-known sites in this area.

Other prominent fossil wood parks in India are: Akal Fossil Wood Park in Jaisalmer and National Fossil Wood Park, Sattanur, also in Tamil Nadu.

All photos by Lata

That was just a parting shot taken before leaving the park.

A Scrapbook Of Faces In Delhi

This post is all about faces. Clicked randomly during my outings in Delhi on crisp and cool winter days, these pictures tell an interesting story about the Indian capital.

Helping her husband at their stall in Dilli Haat, this woman was as pretty as the puppets they were selling. She requested me to help her husband with English who was having a hard time bargaining with a bunch of foreigners. But he was smart. He managed to strike a deal with them without my help.

 

It was late evening and this paan seller outside Evergreen Sweets in Green Park Market was all bundled up, hoping to get some customers before calling it a day. I couldn't help noticing and admiring how neat and clean his stall was...picture perfect!

These two retired gentlemen found a nice sunny spot in the Aurobindo Place Market premises. They would have probably spent the entire morning there before going home for lunch.

The Deer Park has lovely walkways for strolling. And this young mother was doing exactly that with her baby.

A hawker busy arranging his wares outside the historic Jama Masjid.

A tourist taking in the sights and the sounds of the area around Jama Masjid.

This woman was enjoying her day out with her baby in the expansive courtyard of the Jama Masjid.

From the open expanses of the Jama Masjid to the congested lanes and by-lanes in Chandni Chowk. This paratha maker was busy rolling out parathas for the steady stream of visitors who were descending on his tiny eatery in the famed Gali Parathewali. Note the mound of dough by his side. Each paratha is made to order, stuffed with the filling of the customer's choice. There are dozens of options to choose from.

A group of foreigners on a guided tour of the crowded Chandni Chowk.

The rarefied atmosphere in the plush malls in Vasant Kunj is a big contrast to the hustle and bustle of Chandni Chowk. A live piano performance was adding to the classiness of the atrium in one of the malls. The place matched the opulence of the lobby of any swanky 5-star hotel.

This coffee shop looks elegant from the ground level as well as from the upper level.

People relaxing in the well-appointed lounge of the Promenade Mall, Vasant Kunj.

Another set of people in the same lounge.

It was a nice day at the Qutab Complex. These ladies and the baby were out to bask in the pleasant winter sun.

A large group of Japanese tourists arriving at the monument with a lot of excitement and anticipation.

Workers at the Qutab Complex taking a breather during their break.

Haldiram's fast food outlets are spread all over Delhi. They are known for serving spicy street food in a clean environment. Workers at an eatery in the newly opened South Square Mall in Sarojini Nagar.

Folk performers at the two-day Kite Festival organized by Delhi Tourism at the India Gate Lawns. The festival had occupied a small corner of the sprawling lawns. Professional kite fliers regaled the audience with their unusual and attractive kites.

A Ship Run Aground

It has been ten days since cyclone Nilam. In this age of 24-hour news coverage, it is stale news. But a sad reminder of the windstorm is stuck in the sands in Chennai, just off the Marina Beach. It is MT Pratibha Cauvery, a mammoth oil tanker vessel with a dead weight of about 30,000 tonnes. It was stationed in the Chennai Outer Anchorage when Nilam struck. The winds were so powerful that the ship lost anchor and started drifting towards the coast. It ran aground near Elliot's Beach in Besant Nagar. Panic set in and 22 of the 37 crew members jumped into a lifeboat, hoping to reach the safety of the shore which was just a short distance way. But, as luck would have it, the boat capsized. A team of alert fishermen organized impromptu rescue operations and brought 16 sailors to the shore. Sadly, half a dozen lives were lost in this tragedy.

Over the next few days, the beached ship moved slowly towards the Marina Beach. Ever since running aground, it has been an object of curiosity and amusement for Chennaiites, who are flocking in large numbers to see the huge ship that has been brought so close to their shores by the fury of the cyclone. Efforts are on to pull it back into the sea with the help of other tugboats, but it is refusing to budge.

The narrow lane behind Santhome Basilica is all abuzz with activity. It is basically a fishermen's village with ramshackle shanties across the beach. There is an incessant flow of vehicles on this otherwise neglected lane. Curious onlookers are coming in to catch a glimpse of the vessel from close quarters. Hawkers are using this opportunity to make a quick buck. There are pony rides, ice cream carts, and urchins selling cut fruit and snacks. Amidst all the fanfare, Chennai's temporary tourist attraction is rooted firmly in the unfamiliar territory it has accidentally strayed into, waiting to be towed back into the familiar environs of the sea.

I managed to take these pictures on a bright Saturday afternoon, feeling sorry for the victims of this unfortunate event while the beached Pratibha Cauvery continued to loom large over the horizon.

Postscript: The salvage operation was on even as I was writing this post. The ship has been pulled out of the seabed. It has been successfully towed away to the Outer Seas. The 11-day spectacle has ended and the vessel is now out of sight.
Nov 12, 2012

As Sweet As Laddoo Vaddoo!

Warning: This review contains spoilers!

"When a man cooks, it is art; but when a woman cooks, it is her daily work, her duty", Shashi expresses her pain through these simple words. The pain of years of being taken for granted by her family, the pain of being an object of ridicule by her adolescent daughter, the pain of being labelled "born to make laddoos" by her husband and the pain of being excluded from the father-daughter bonhomie on account of not being proficient in English. When Gauri Shinde conceived this character for her debut feature film "English Vinglish", she must have known that she had a winner at hand; for not only can so many women relate with it, but they can also identify themselves with the character because they have been at the receiving end of a similar treatment for long.

Shashi is a homemaker who is completely devoted to her family, setting a cup of tea for her husband first thing in the morning, packing lunch boxes for the kids before sending them off to school, and in general being there for everybody including her mother-in-law. She supplies snacks and sweets for weddings and other special occasions. She does it because she likes doing it, and not out of any necessity. Her husband is a good provider. In fact, he even asks her to "stop making laddoos". But it is something she excels in and so continue she does. Her customers' admiration of her craft keeps her going. Otherwise, she suffers silently, being the butt of jokes of her insensitive family, yet performing her chores around the house flawlessly. She is saddened by her daughter's discomfort in introducing her to others at her school, but bears with it quietly. In spite of being a good wife, a good mother and a good cook, she fails to command any respect from her family.

Life would have gone on this way had it not been for an invitation from her sister to visit her in New York City. There is a wedding in the family and Shashi's help is requisitioned. She is packed off to the US ahead of the rest of the family much against her wishes. She is not comfortable leaving her family behind. Moreover, she does not like the idea of travelling alone, given her handicap in English. But she does not have a choice. Once there, her unsuccessful attempt to order food for herself at an eatery and the resulting humiliation lead her to enroll in a class that promises to teach conversational English in four weeks.

The rest of the story is all about Shashi's discovery of herself. Learning English is just a metaphor. She sees a whole new world that looks at her for being herself, and not as somebody's wife or mother. She gains confidence with each new step that she takes. At the end of the four weeks, along with learning English, she has learnt to feel good about herself too. And that is more important.

Shashi's story over, time now to talk about Sridevi. In spite of a sterling performance, you cannot help but notice the tightness in her face. The eyes are still lovely, but the area around her nose and cheeks looks strained resulting in a loss of expression to some extent. It bothers you in the beginning, but as the story progresses and the affable Shashi grows on you, you accept her as she is, notwithstanding the ravages caused by cosmetic intervention in her charming countenance.

Gauri deserves a lot of credit for visualizing and writing Shashi's character so convincingly. She has got all the other actors to deliver beautifully too. Debonair Mehdi Nebbou as the gentle Frenchman Laurent who works as a cook, and svelte Priya Anand as Shashi's spunky niece Radha stand out particularly because of their superb execution. The classroom scenes are peppered with amusing humour. Sridevi's sarees are elegant. And the sights and sounds of Manhattan have been captured wonderfully well. Music is mostly in the background, and it is very much in keeping with the general trend in today's film music. I liked Shashi's outbursts in Hindi and Laurent's responses in fluent French. They do not speak each other's language, but a lot is said and a lot is understood. Beyond a certain point, one sure doesn't need a language to communicate.

It is a heartwarming tale, told simply and tastefully. Well-rounded and sweet, just like Shashi's laddoos!

The Swing Keeps Going

It has been five months since I posted a write-up on the TV series "Uncha Maza Zoka". Ever since then, that post has been on top of the statistics chart of my blog showing maximum pageviews at any given time. Viewers' interest in this series is phenomenal and it is reflected in the number of people who want to read about it. Recently, there has been a major change in it. The little girl who played Rama has metamorphosed into a young woman (most of the other people in the cast look the same!). So here I am, posting an update.

What all has happened since my previous post on this series? Well, how Rama gets adjusted to the life in her husband's family has been shown in great detail. It is a large clan with guests dropping by and staying on for years. The generous patriarch (Madhav's father) has taken it upon himself to help his extended family. As a result, the family keeps growing and so does the financial burden on it; but he does not think twice before taking loans to get by.

Madhav earns well as a judge and he tries to lighten the load on his father as much as he can. He has utmost respect for his father and is always careful not to hurt his feelings in any way. The father loves his son too. But the only matter on which they don't see eye to eye is Madhav's progressive thinking and his reformist activities. The old man wants to stick to his orthodox ways. He might have tolerated his son's new-fangled behaviour, had it stayed outside the threshold of his house. But when he sees the winds of change blowing inside his home in the form of Madhav's insistence on educating Rama at any cost, he cannot cope with it. The emotional conflict between the father and son has been portrayed vividly.

It is against this backdrop that Rama is growing up. She is committed to fulfill her husband's wish and tries her best to comply with it. In turn, she has to face strong opposition from the ladies in the family for spending time with books instead of helping them in the kitchen. They express their disapproval in various ways, from sarcastic taunts to stern reprimands to severe threats. This has been shown many times over at the cost of being repetitive. It was at times like these that one felt the charm of the series wearing off, its grip on its audiences loosening somewhat. I think even all those who loved little Rama will agree that her childhood was stretched a bit too far by the makers.

The young woman who has bagged the coveted role of the grown-up Ramabai is trying to emulate the young Rama with faithful reproductions of her mannerisms, but it will take her some time to get under the skin of the character. She seems to be lacking the spontaneity and the effervescence of her predecessor. But with time, it is possible that she will grow on the viewers and become the face of the adult Ramabai.

Rama is an intelligent and sensitive person. She is troubled by the plight of women around her. She has been a witness to the hardships faced by widows in her family right from her early days. She is moved when she learns about the difficult and abusive in-laws of her childhood friend. She is scared when she sees a teenage mother-to-be die an untimely death as a result of complications in her pregnancy. She is saddened when her mother-in-law confides in her in a weak moment about how the older lady was supposed to obey her husband all the time, and how she was not to have any identity or opinion of her own. All these leave a deep impact on her, paving way for her commitment to work for the betterment of women. Of course, it helps to have a husband like Mahadev Govind Ranade who insists on being a friend, not pati parameshwar.

In spite of some blemishes (loud characters like Subhadrakaku, slow pace in Rama's childhood and repetitive events),this series has good potential. It will be interesting to see how it unfolds in the days to come.

You may read my previous post on this series here.

Cold-Shouldering The Discomfort!

It is amazing how confident we are that nothing will ever happen to us. Confident to the point of being arrogant. We are smug in our belief that things happen only to others.

It all began when I stepped out into the balcony three weeks ago. Now, this is a small balcony that I use to hang my laundry everyday. So it is a familiar territory. But that day, it had rained for a short while just before the washing machine played the usual tune announcing the completion of the spin cycle. Determined to finish the chore of hanging the washed clothes, I went to the balcony with my basket. Looking at the wet floor outside, I did something that I never do. I took off my slippers and went about finishing my task barefoot.

It took one uncontrolled step on the wet surface to bring me down. I fell flat on my stomach, my left shoulder bearing most of my weight. My glasses flew away to one corner. The parapet wall was too far to hold onto it for support. Luckily there was help at home. But even with help, I could not bring myself to move for about ten minutes. Tears rolled down my face as I lay there. Shocked and dumbfounded, I was hurt as much by the fall as by the incredulity of having fallen, having slipped.

Then began the guessing game: will it be a fracture or won't it? Of course we hoped not and continued to believe so till the CT scan report was positive, confirming a fracture in the left shoulder. Before the report came, we looked for obvious signs. There was pain, but no swelling. An icepack made hastily by shoving ice cubes in a plastic bag was pressed into action. Slowly it dawned on me that I could not lift my left hand behind my head to tie my hair in a clip as I normally do.

The doctor made sure that I don't do what I could not do anyway, namely use the shoulder joint. For more than the past three weeks, my arm is tied in a sling pouch, rendering it inactive. The men in the house have risen to the occasion, "manning" the kitchen and doing sundry chores around the house. They are standing shoulder to shoulder with me in helping me cope with the situation. Sometimes they have to put their shoulders to the wheel, but they have demonstrated that they have broad shoulders. I am waiting to take the weight of these additional responsibilities off their shoulders, but for that to happen, my shoulder has to come back to normalcy. For now, opening a water bottle or a sugar or coffee tin is a challenge. Simple tasks that I performed daily look formidable.

But as they say, this too shall pass. We are not getting any younger and I should remember to look over my shoulder while moving around. The gift of having a healthy body has been underlined afresh in my mind. I look forward to having a nice shower and smelling the shampoo in my hair. We take these small pleasures too much for granted! In the mean time, I am trying my best to give the cold shoulder to all my discomfort.