There was this wonderful ad tucked away in the last pages of the TOI, Bangalore edition! The copy went something like... Your husband shouts at you for doing it Your boss shouts at ... Your kids ... Now TOI is going to give you a prize for doing it. Times Su-doku Championship in Bangalore on 4th December, 2005.
Went hysterical laughing at it with dh cuz it was so close home! I'm so crazy about Su-doku that I've ditched all my cross words. Do the basic TOI one at home then do the Hindu & BS ones at office & on a good day, even attempt a DH one! Wondering whether I should indeed participate in the 'Championship'? Or plod on amidst the shouts.
November 30, 2005
November 28, 2005
I'm back!
I'm back with so many stories, sights and all to share. But I'll start by sharing the news of the much awaited birth. Baby Katherine is finally born to the verymom Jessica. I really waited and prayed for this little one and would recommend this home birthing story to all except the feeble hearted and non-women who *may* find it gross. To all women who've birthed, it sure would touch a cord! Love Jessica for sharing her story in such DETAIL.
November 18, 2005
Baby blues
Am feeling very deflated & un-pregnant. Lost vague sad unconnectedness of post postum depression (quite like a typical post partum thingie). Done with my Rebecca posts and not ready to take on the next one as I'm going awaaaaaay:(
Will be visiting Aizawl, Kolasib, Silchar, Agartala, Guwahati, Kaziranga & Shillong in my northeastern quest for coffee for all of the next week. Will miss family home hearth office and my blog! While I hope to be on call with my home & work, my neonate blog will be untended and unattended. I do hope it makes it past the first month of its existence, quite on its own...
Will be visiting Aizawl, Kolasib, Silchar, Agartala, Guwahati, Kaziranga & Shillong in my northeastern quest for coffee for all of the next week. Will miss family home hearth office and my blog! While I hope to be on call with my home & work, my neonate blog will be untended and unattended. I do hope it makes it past the first month of its existence, quite on its own...
D day is here
The countdown has ended! There are reviews galore. But the question which begs answering is who are the little ( and no so little) girls cheering more for- HP or Cedric Diggory- Daniel Radcliff or Robert Pattinson . Sorry, Ron! We love you- but you don't seem to breaking too many hearts here.
The preteen is watching it today- don't know if I'll be able to watch it over the weekend.
The preteen is watching it today- don't know if I'll be able to watch it over the weekend.
Mrss de Winter Part II
The present print I have of Rebecca (my first personal copy!) is a 2003 reprint by Virago Press with an introduction by Sally Beauman. She seems to one among those who have been so influenced by this book as to write one of her own on it- a reconstruction of the personality of the ever intriguing Rebecca! Then there is yet another which seems to take off right from where the horizon was shot with crimson. Please do feel free to link up to these sites and read their interpretations of Rebecca.
Coming now to my views. There is much much more I have read than those initial impressions I gathered of a sweet romance, English countryside, marriage etc. Yes, some of those images will remain with me forever but then there were other, subtler images which I picked up over the years that I've read this book. The strength of her imagery is so powerful that it has undoubtedly affected all its readers- where but in that image of a memory to be uncorked could JK Rowling have got her exquisite idea of 'pensieve' where the memories of good times and dark, are pulled out and presented to young Harry Potter? While I continue to love and get intoxicated by most of the flowers mentioned and rhododendrons have had a special place in my heart, I continue to have and be proud of my untidy hair, like blowzy roses, which may or may not make me mysterious and subtle!
A bit about Daphne du Maurier. She claimed that the second Mrs de Winter was shy and awkward and in many other ways modelled on herself- so that it was too autobiographical & personal for her to be named. But then there is so much of her in the first Mrs de Winter too. She was an excellent sailor, and she is known to have been to use that rather victorian word, 'promiscuous'- with men AND women (as set out explicitly by Tani in one of her comments on my earlier post). Then ofcourse is the third woman in this feminine melange a trois- Mrs Danvers aka Danny- the older woman, the ever watchful, the kinder, crueller, omnipresent Danny. Could any man, however much he looked like a Master's painting be a match for any of these three women?
The artful, worldly Rebecca, who carried within her all the angst, and yet joy of the Lazarus lady 'eating men like air'. The artless (for all her sketching!) sexless much loved much pitied second Mrs de Winter, who suddenly grows up, learns things she is not favoured to know and in a vivid dream based on a totally inverted picture of porphyria's lover finds herself with a rope of long black (not yellow) hair which she allows her lover to wind around his own neck! Ah! The beauty and strength of that image - it is astounding to say the least.
Then there is story which I recall as having been written by Taslima Nasreen, about two women meeting in a railway ladies compartment. The elder by means of that universally favoured social game of 20 questions quizzes the younger about various habits of her husband from what he eats, when he bathes, where he works, how much he earns etc. They part with the elder woman getting off the train satisfied that she has learnt everything there was to be known about the younger woman- by asking her ALL the relevant questions about her husband and 'his routine'!
Of course, the doting, critical, fawning, avenging Danny has been the lynchpin of the book, the character who serves as a connection between the Mrss de Winter and to that extent, is a part of both. She quietly underscores the fact that it is a woman's world and that the men are at most peripheral to the plot. It is the love and dislike between the women which really determines and leads the narrative, even if were only the hobby of Mrs van Hopper! At a sudden loose end, Mrs de Winter thinks of what Mrs van Hopper were to say if her marriage were to be annulled! And of course, Rebecca's query regarding playing the part of husband and wife too well (if that were indeed possible!) is a jewel!
There is so much more but I conclude by saying that I've really enjoyed putting down some of my thoughts on Rebecca. I do indeed wait for comments.
Coming now to my views. There is much much more I have read than those initial impressions I gathered of a sweet romance, English countryside, marriage etc. Yes, some of those images will remain with me forever but then there were other, subtler images which I picked up over the years that I've read this book. The strength of her imagery is so powerful that it has undoubtedly affected all its readers- where but in that image of a memory to be uncorked could JK Rowling have got her exquisite idea of 'pensieve' where the memories of good times and dark, are pulled out and presented to young Harry Potter? While I continue to love and get intoxicated by most of the flowers mentioned and rhododendrons have had a special place in my heart, I continue to have and be proud of my untidy hair, like blowzy roses, which may or may not make me mysterious and subtle!
A bit about Daphne du Maurier. She claimed that the second Mrs de Winter was shy and awkward and in many other ways modelled on herself- so that it was too autobiographical & personal for her to be named. But then there is so much of her in the first Mrs de Winter too. She was an excellent sailor, and she is known to have been to use that rather victorian word, 'promiscuous'- with men AND women (as set out explicitly by Tani in one of her comments on my earlier post). Then ofcourse is the third woman in this feminine melange a trois- Mrs Danvers aka Danny- the older woman, the ever watchful, the kinder, crueller, omnipresent Danny. Could any man, however much he looked like a Master's painting be a match for any of these three women?
The artful, worldly Rebecca, who carried within her all the angst, and yet joy of the Lazarus lady 'eating men like air'. The artless (for all her sketching!) sexless much loved much pitied second Mrs de Winter, who suddenly grows up, learns things she is not favoured to know and in a vivid dream based on a totally inverted picture of porphyria's lover finds herself with a rope of long black (not yellow) hair which she allows her lover to wind around his own neck! Ah! The beauty and strength of that image - it is astounding to say the least.
Then there is story which I recall as having been written by Taslima Nasreen, about two women meeting in a railway ladies compartment. The elder by means of that universally favoured social game of 20 questions quizzes the younger about various habits of her husband from what he eats, when he bathes, where he works, how much he earns etc. They part with the elder woman getting off the train satisfied that she has learnt everything there was to be known about the younger woman- by asking her ALL the relevant questions about her husband and 'his routine'!
Of course, the doting, critical, fawning, avenging Danny has been the lynchpin of the book, the character who serves as a connection between the Mrss de Winter and to that extent, is a part of both. She quietly underscores the fact that it is a woman's world and that the men are at most peripheral to the plot. It is the love and dislike between the women which really determines and leads the narrative, even if were only the hobby of Mrs van Hopper! At a sudden loose end, Mrs de Winter thinks of what Mrs van Hopper were to say if her marriage were to be annulled! And of course, Rebecca's query regarding playing the part of husband and wife too well (if that were indeed possible!) is a jewel!
There is so much more but I conclude by saying that I've really enjoyed putting down some of my thoughts on Rebecca. I do indeed wait for comments.
November 15, 2005
Mrss de Winter- Part I
No, the extra 's' in the title is NOT a typo!
This was really tough for me to work on. Finally, I've realised that I can't cover even Rebecca in a single post and would have to do so in parts. Maybe, if I can, I shall thereafter attempt the other favourite books of mine written by du Maurier. As I said with my HP post, theres no point in my writing about the story or describing the characters as those who haven't read Rebecca may not realise what the fuss is about.
How does one talk about a book with has such significance on ones life? A book which impacted me more than The Second Sex (which along with Beauvoir's other writings did impress me lots) or any other brand of chiclit as it is now referred to. A book so feminine and so feminist. A book so british & so universal. A book so dearly and widely loved and yet so casually ignored by the critics. I am waiting to share Rebecca with my daughter as I was initiated into it by my elder, smarter and cleverer sister.
All those who have read Rebecca, loved it & grown with it, here are a few (may seem a lot, but to me, just a few) of my favourite impressions. My takeaway from this treasure tome would appear as the next part of the post.
Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again.
... a companion is a friend of the bosom.
You're cheap at ninety pounds a year.
An empty house can be as lonely as a full hotel... The trouble is it is less impersonal.
... daffodils were in bloom, ... however many you might pick there would be no thinning of the ranks ... crocuses were planted, golden, pink and mauve ... bluebells ... they choked the very bracken in the woods, ... made a challenge to the sky. People who plucked bluebells from the woods were vandals; ... The primrose did not mind it so much; ... A rose ... looked better picked than growing. ... There was something rather blowzy about roses in full bloom, something shallow and raucous, like women with untidy hair. In the house they became mysterious and subtle. ... His sister, ... used to complain that there were too many scents at Manderley, they made her drunk.
... as though the writer, in impatience, had shaken her pen to make the ink flow freely. And then as it bubbled through the nib, it came a little thick, so that the name Rebecca stood out bold and strong, the tall and sloping R dwarfing the other letters.
An appalling tragedy, the papers were full of it ofcourse. They say he never talks about it, never mentions her name.
I am glad it cannot happen twice, the fever of first love.
... a little scrubby schoolboy with a passion for a sixth-form prefect, and he kinder, and far more inaccessible.
If only there could be an invention that bottled up a memory, like scent. And it never faded, and it never got stale. And then when one wanted it, the bottle could be uncorked, and it would be like living the moment all over again.
I wish I was a woman of about thirty-six dressed in black satin with a string of pearls.
This man was a stranger. I wondered why I was sitting beside him in the car.
I don't think you have met my wife. Mrs de Winter. I would be Mrs. de Winter.... Mrs de Winter. I would be Mrs. de Winter.... Mrs de Winter. I would be Mrs. de Winter.
I wished, for one wild moment, that none of this had happened, that I was alone somewhere, going for a walk, and whistling.
He had not said anything yet about being in love.
Tell me, have you been doing anything you shouldn't?
You mustn't mind a little bit of curiosity, everyone will want to know what you are like.
We were amongst the rhododendrons.
You could never tell you were within five minutes of the sea, from this room.
She doesn't bully me though. I'd have given her the sack long ago if she had tried.
This is his routine, this is what he always does: this has been his custom now for years.
This was a woman's room, graceful, fragile, the room of someone who had chosen every particle of furniture with great care, so that each chair, each vase, each small infinitesimal thing should be in harmony with one another and with her own personality.
...the rhododendrons, not content with forming their theater on the lawn outside the window, had been permitted into the room itself.
'I'm afraid you have made a mistake,' I said; 'Mrs de Winter has been dead for over a year.'
I think Mrs de Winter would have ordered a wine sauce, Madam.
...knowing that she was standing there above me, her eyes watching me.
Amazing woman, that Mrs Danvers, don't you think so?
I wondered why she said she hoped we would be happy, instead of saying she knew we would be so.
I thought you knew...She simply adored Rebecca.
...you are so very different from Rebecca.
Your hair?...Of course I like it.. Whats the matter with it?
...the vanished scent... of the azaleas in the Happy Valley.
That cottage is supposed to be locked...
The smile was my reward. Like a pat on the head to Jasper.
I can see her now, standing at the foot of the stairs on the night of the ball,...that cloud of black hair against the very white skin, and her costume suited her so. Yes, she was very beautiful.
...kindness, and sincerity, and ... modesty are worth far more to a man, to a husband, than all the wit and beauty in the world.
Of course we are companions. ... You know our marriage is a success, a wonderful success? ... We are happy, aren't we? Terribly happy? ... We are happy. All right then, thats agreed!
Nothing very much, why? ...you looked so serious, so far away. ... As a matter of fact I was wondering if they had chosen the Surrey side to play Middlesex at the Oval.
I was rather shocked at myself. I could not understand it at all. I had not wanted him to go. And now this lightness of heart, this spring in my step, this childish feeling that I wanted to run across the lawn, and roll down the bank. ... How lovely it was to be alone again.
Je Reviens- 'I come back.' Yes. I suppose it was quite a good name for a boat.
Tall and dark she was. She gave you the feeling of a snake.
Oh well, we mustn't lead the bride astray, must we, Jasper?
"Harder, Max, harder," ... and he would do as she told him.
Sometimes I wonder if she comes back and watches you and Mr de Winter together.
I want Rebecca, what have you done with Rebecca?
Breeding, brains and beauty.
A husband is not very different from a father after all. There is a certain type of knowledge I prefer you not to have.
Dresden shepherdess. Alice - in - Wonderland.
'Miss Caroline de Winter, ' shouted the drummer.
Its all over now. The thing has happened.
You thought I killed her, loving her?
She looked like a boy in her sailing kit, a boy with a face like a Botticelli angel.
"Haven't we played the parts of loving husband and wife rather too well?"
...that foot of hers in its striped sandal swinging forwards and backwards ... Still that foot of hers, swinging to and fro, that damned foot in its blue and white striped sandal.
When I killed her she was smiling still.
The peace of Manderley. ... could not be broken or the loveliness destroyed. ... There would be lilac and honeysuckle still, and the white magnolia buds ...
The woman who called herself Mrs Danvers was very seriously ill.
This was really tough for me to work on. Finally, I've realised that I can't cover even Rebecca in a single post and would have to do so in parts. Maybe, if I can, I shall thereafter attempt the other favourite books of mine written by du Maurier. As I said with my HP post, theres no point in my writing about the story or describing the characters as those who haven't read Rebecca may not realise what the fuss is about.
How does one talk about a book with has such significance on ones life? A book which impacted me more than The Second Sex (which along with Beauvoir's other writings did impress me lots) or any other brand of chiclit as it is now referred to. A book so feminine and so feminist. A book so british & so universal. A book so dearly and widely loved and yet so casually ignored by the critics. I am waiting to share Rebecca with my daughter as I was initiated into it by my elder, smarter and cleverer sister.
All those who have read Rebecca, loved it & grown with it, here are a few (may seem a lot, but to me, just a few) of my favourite impressions. My takeaway from this treasure tome would appear as the next part of the post.
Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again.
... a companion is a friend of the bosom.
You're cheap at ninety pounds a year.
An empty house can be as lonely as a full hotel... The trouble is it is less impersonal.
... daffodils were in bloom, ... however many you might pick there would be no thinning of the ranks ... crocuses were planted, golden, pink and mauve ... bluebells ... they choked the very bracken in the woods, ... made a challenge to the sky. People who plucked bluebells from the woods were vandals; ... The primrose did not mind it so much; ... A rose ... looked better picked than growing. ... There was something rather blowzy about roses in full bloom, something shallow and raucous, like women with untidy hair. In the house they became mysterious and subtle. ... His sister, ... used to complain that there were too many scents at Manderley, they made her drunk.
... as though the writer, in impatience, had shaken her pen to make the ink flow freely. And then as it bubbled through the nib, it came a little thick, so that the name Rebecca stood out bold and strong, the tall and sloping R dwarfing the other letters.
An appalling tragedy, the papers were full of it ofcourse. They say he never talks about it, never mentions her name.
I am glad it cannot happen twice, the fever of first love.
... a little scrubby schoolboy with a passion for a sixth-form prefect, and he kinder, and far more inaccessible.
If only there could be an invention that bottled up a memory, like scent. And it never faded, and it never got stale. And then when one wanted it, the bottle could be uncorked, and it would be like living the moment all over again.
I wish I was a woman of about thirty-six dressed in black satin with a string of pearls.
This man was a stranger. I wondered why I was sitting beside him in the car.
I don't think you have met my wife. Mrs de Winter. I would be Mrs. de Winter.... Mrs de Winter. I would be Mrs. de Winter.... Mrs de Winter. I would be Mrs. de Winter.
I wished, for one wild moment, that none of this had happened, that I was alone somewhere, going for a walk, and whistling.
He had not said anything yet about being in love.
Tell me, have you been doing anything you shouldn't?
You mustn't mind a little bit of curiosity, everyone will want to know what you are like.
We were amongst the rhododendrons.
You could never tell you were within five minutes of the sea, from this room.
She doesn't bully me though. I'd have given her the sack long ago if she had tried.
This is his routine, this is what he always does: this has been his custom now for years.
This was a woman's room, graceful, fragile, the room of someone who had chosen every particle of furniture with great care, so that each chair, each vase, each small infinitesimal thing should be in harmony with one another and with her own personality.
...the rhododendrons, not content with forming their theater on the lawn outside the window, had been permitted into the room itself.
'I'm afraid you have made a mistake,' I said; 'Mrs de Winter has been dead for over a year.'
I think Mrs de Winter would have ordered a wine sauce, Madam.
...knowing that she was standing there above me, her eyes watching me.
Amazing woman, that Mrs Danvers, don't you think so?
I wondered why she said she hoped we would be happy, instead of saying she knew we would be so.
I thought you knew...She simply adored Rebecca.
...you are so very different from Rebecca.
Your hair?...Of course I like it.. Whats the matter with it?
...the vanished scent... of the azaleas in the Happy Valley.
That cottage is supposed to be locked...
The smile was my reward. Like a pat on the head to Jasper.
I can see her now, standing at the foot of the stairs on the night of the ball,...that cloud of black hair against the very white skin, and her costume suited her so. Yes, she was very beautiful.
...kindness, and sincerity, and ... modesty are worth far more to a man, to a husband, than all the wit and beauty in the world.
Of course we are companions. ... You know our marriage is a success, a wonderful success? ... We are happy, aren't we? Terribly happy? ... We are happy. All right then, thats agreed!
Nothing very much, why? ...you looked so serious, so far away. ... As a matter of fact I was wondering if they had chosen the Surrey side to play Middlesex at the Oval.
I was rather shocked at myself. I could not understand it at all. I had not wanted him to go. And now this lightness of heart, this spring in my step, this childish feeling that I wanted to run across the lawn, and roll down the bank. ... How lovely it was to be alone again.
Je Reviens- 'I come back.' Yes. I suppose it was quite a good name for a boat.
Tall and dark she was. She gave you the feeling of a snake.
Oh well, we mustn't lead the bride astray, must we, Jasper?
"Harder, Max, harder," ... and he would do as she told him.
Sometimes I wonder if she comes back and watches you and Mr de Winter together.
I want Rebecca, what have you done with Rebecca?
Breeding, brains and beauty.
A husband is not very different from a father after all. There is a certain type of knowledge I prefer you not to have.
Dresden shepherdess. Alice - in - Wonderland.
'Miss Caroline de Winter, ' shouted the drummer.
Its all over now. The thing has happened.
You thought I killed her, loving her?
She looked like a boy in her sailing kit, a boy with a face like a Botticelli angel.
"Haven't we played the parts of loving husband and wife rather too well?"
...that foot of hers in its striped sandal swinging forwards and backwards ... Still that foot of hers, swinging to and fro, that damned foot in its blue and white striped sandal.
When I killed her she was smiling still.
The peace of Manderley. ... could not be broken or the loveliness destroyed. ... There would be lilac and honeysuckle still, and the white magnolia buds ...
The woman who called herself Mrs Danvers was very seriously ill.
The last supreme bluff.
... it was not my small square handwriting at all, it was long, and slanting, with curious pointed strokes. ... A face stared back at me that was not my own. It was very pale, very lovely, framed in a cloud of dark hair. ... and Maxim was brushing her hair. ... and as he brushed it he wound it slowly into a thick rope. It twisted like a snake, and he took hold of it with both hands and smiled at Rebecca and put it round his neck.
But the sky on the horizon was not dark at all. It was shot with crimson, like a splash of blood. And the ashes blew towards us with the salt wind from the sea.
November 12, 2005
Akhtari AM/AN
Love Saturday mornings. DH has a early tee-off. And Ela, Shalini, Kiran & all you who read my blog but post comments elsewhere, I do NOT resent weekend golf.
Have the entire morning to myself. To laze to gaze to bathe to be unbathed to stitch saree falls (wonder when they'll come up with velcro or iron-on falls) or whatever to be all my self- at least till the kids get up.
So too today, I had all the time in the world and a few bird calls had me going. I fancied a musical morning and so it was. Sublime Akhtari Begum! While I like her at all times of the day am or pm, her sonorous strong notes find the right spot particularly in the mornings and at night. All her strength, far from detracting from the soft lyrics give them the perfect attitude to make it bearable and to prevent it from becoming sentimental sap. Who after hearing begum sing Woh jo hum me tum me karaar tha would settle for the softer but sweeter version of Farida Khannam? Or any other song for that matter? Even a Mere Humnafas! Ya, I am a fan! She transforms even the sappiest of songs to the sublime. Even in her 'rona' for her 'Mohhabat tere Anjaam' is full bodied and as free from self pity as the lyrics would allow. So it is not her words but her rendition which really uplifts. But today I started with none of these classic favourites. What she does for thumris etc is even greater than her magic with ghazals which with their structured form and sentimental lyrics can be rendered even by the Udhases. Early in the crisp cool morning to be listening to 'Koyalia mat kar pukar' THIS started my day.
Have the entire morning to myself. To laze to gaze to bathe to be unbathed to stitch saree falls (wonder when they'll come up with velcro or iron-on falls) or whatever to be all my self- at least till the kids get up.
So too today, I had all the time in the world and a few bird calls had me going. I fancied a musical morning and so it was. Sublime Akhtari Begum! While I like her at all times of the day am or pm, her sonorous strong notes find the right spot particularly in the mornings and at night. All her strength, far from detracting from the soft lyrics give them the perfect attitude to make it bearable and to prevent it from becoming sentimental sap. Who after hearing begum sing Woh jo hum me tum me karaar tha would settle for the softer but sweeter version of Farida Khannam? Or any other song for that matter? Even a Mere Humnafas! Ya, I am a fan! She transforms even the sappiest of songs to the sublime. Even in her 'rona' for her 'Mohhabat tere Anjaam' is full bodied and as free from self pity as the lyrics would allow. So it is not her words but her rendition which really uplifts. But today I started with none of these classic favourites. What she does for thumris etc is even greater than her magic with ghazals which with their structured form and sentimental lyrics can be rendered even by the Udhases. Early in the crisp cool morning to be listening to 'Koyalia mat kar pukar' THIS started my day.
November 10, 2005
Today's Major Tender Moment
Usually, I don't ever talk about work (becuz its soooo boring and I'm such a sport!) but today I had a major 'moment'.
The week has been crazy hectic and horrible. Just as I had put behind me a series of unpleasant back to back meetings, came the last straw. At 6 pm, amidst frantic calls from the kids @ home reg. who's going on the 18th for the screening of HP & who for Hanuman (are they ACTUALLY releasing on the same day!?), I suddenly found myself outnumbered and disadvantaged by eight 'parties' who trooped in for a tender opening. I'm extremely sorry to say that I conducted myself very civilly and did NOT blow my top much as I wanted to.
So here I am dear blog, venting about my tender 'moment'!
The week has been crazy hectic and horrible. Just as I had put behind me a series of unpleasant back to back meetings, came the last straw. At 6 pm, amidst frantic calls from the kids @ home reg. who's going on the 18th for the screening of HP & who for Hanuman (are they ACTUALLY releasing on the same day!?), I suddenly found myself outnumbered and disadvantaged by eight 'parties' who trooped in for a tender opening. I'm extremely sorry to say that I conducted myself very civilly and did NOT blow my top much as I wanted to.
So here I am dear blog, venting about my tender 'moment'!
November 08, 2005
Daphne Du Maurier
Hi! Just a quick one. Somewhere in my profile I had stated that I'll have one fav. author per month and would start w/ Daphne Du Maurier.
Should I cover all MY favourite books of her? Or do I stick to the memories & story of the most famous unnamed heroine?
TIA cuz I have a real hard task ahead of me, anyway! :o)
Should I cover all MY favourite books of her? Or do I stick to the memories & story of the most famous unnamed heroine?
TIA cuz I have a real hard task ahead of me, anyway! :o)
Spelling (or is it spieling?)it out!
Hi all you folk who have so thoughtfully gone over my ramblings only to ring me back (on my LANDLINE!) to point out spelling errors and other such typos!
Yes, I agree that in my rush to post poste haste, I haven't availed of such basic tools as spellcheck! Its ok, I'll try to do so in future but please don't hold that against me. This isn't a master(!)piece I'm writing, just a blog.
And yes, my style, if I may call it that, is rather obtuse, with many allusions which may not be immediately apparent. Thats the reason I've added links wherever I thot they were needed (& wherever available!). Please hover over the links and follow them if you choose. In case any of the links don't work, let me know.
And most importantly, PLEASE post your comments rather than ringing me up! Drop your inhibitions and get net savvy- its courtesy to post when you have an opinion!
Thanks & come back soon. Hope to publish my GOF post some time today :)
Yes, I agree that in my rush to post poste haste, I haven't availed of such basic tools as spellcheck! Its ok, I'll try to do so in future but please don't hold that against me. This isn't a master(!)piece I'm writing, just a blog.
And yes, my style, if I may call it that, is rather obtuse, with many allusions which may not be immediately apparent. Thats the reason I've added links wherever I thot they were needed (& wherever available!). Please hover over the links and follow them if you choose. In case any of the links don't work, let me know.
And most importantly, PLEASE post your comments rather than ringing me up! Drop your inhibitions and get net savvy- its courtesy to post when you have an opinion!
Thanks & come back soon. Hope to publish my GOF post some time today :)
The visual Harry Potter & the Goblet Of Fire
NOTE: Muggles (non-magic folk) prohibited from commenting
Yes, I know- everyone has their own posts on the HP and the GOF. Hasn't been done to death, you may ask. But please do indulge me and let me have my say on what portends to be a major event. For the uninitiated, I'm sorry, read no further. NO MUGGLES ALLOWED!
The fans have been going crazy and the sites couldn't have had better business but what is GOF to me?
It is far more complex and far more scary than movies I-III. Kids who were terrified of the chamber of secrets and the dementors out of Azkaban are going to reel under the visuals of the explicit violence of the introductory part of the House of Riddles. Mad Eye Moody would be a tough one to watch at least in the initial shots. The dragons, Avada Kedavara, Imperio, o the evil is EVIL. Most importantly, its a growing up movie- all manner of relationships are hinted at and developed in the book- everyone- even Hagrid seems to have discovered love. Snogging sounds kinda cute in the book, but visuals!?!
Of course, none of this is going to keep kids away. Not even the PG13 rating! Both my preteen & the lil one are counting the days to the BIG DAY- 18th November, here in India.
Parental Guidance be damned! Guess we just have to let the kids sort things out in the movie hall and parental guidance shall have to follow!!!
Yes, I know- everyone has their own posts on the HP and the GOF. Hasn't been done to death, you may ask. But please do indulge me and let me have my say on what portends to be a major event. For the uninitiated, I'm sorry, read no further. NO MUGGLES ALLOWED!
The fans have been going crazy and the sites couldn't have had better business but what is GOF to me?
It is far more complex and far more scary than movies I-III. Kids who were terrified of the chamber of secrets and the dementors out of Azkaban are going to reel under the visuals of the explicit violence of the introductory part of the House of Riddles. Mad Eye Moody would be a tough one to watch at least in the initial shots. The dragons, Avada Kedavara, Imperio, o the evil is EVIL. Most importantly, its a growing up movie- all manner of relationships are hinted at and developed in the book- everyone- even Hagrid seems to have discovered love. Snogging sounds kinda cute in the book, but visuals!?!
Of course, none of this is going to keep kids away. Not even the PG13 rating! Both my preteen & the lil one are counting the days to the BIG DAY- 18th November, here in India.
Parental Guidance be damned! Guess we just have to let the kids sort things out in the movie hall and parental guidance shall have to follow!!!
November 07, 2005
Garden City
We had a major catastrophe in the family over the weekend! Ya, the plumbing did collapse and the garden was totally dug up and the domestic complement was MIA, but those don't qualify as catastrophes, do they? The problem that visited us must have impacted other families too in this fair city.
KGA was flooded and CLOSED through the loong Id weekend. While the more enterprising and savvy city golfers would undoubtedly have made alternate arrangements by blocking all available tee-times in Eagleton, BGC & AGC if not the out of city courses in Coorg, Chikmagalur, TN or wherever, my husband (CP to those of you who know him & dh to those who don't) and his entire 8 ball were left high and dry or should we say, marooned. With no ideas from his buddies, he was left mooning around, an extremely grumpy and grouchy golfer! When things got absolutely unbearable, which they do rather quickly around this house, I thought I should step in with a day's plan. Confabbing with the vqarious partied involved such as pretty preteen and perky lil one (^o^), we decided on a picnic!
We left the house with tonnes of puri, aloo & the usual stuff and embarked on our imprompto picnic. Having been spoiled silly by the abundance of picnic spots in saadi dilli, we started lamenting the dearth of places such as India Gate lawns, Buddha Jayanti park, Lodi garden, Rose Garden, Hauz Khas & all, and came up with what we considered as viable options. Kid said he wanted to go to Cubbon Park, like a lil kannadiga that he is. CP wanted something slightly way out and suggested the Big Banyan Tree on Mysore Road. Me, after some frantic calls settled on Hessarghatta lake beyond Peenya. Preteen in her typical laconic but bang-on way way said, "Whatever, but the monkeys at the BBT are SOME thing!"
Meanwhile, stuck in atypical Bangalore traffic mess still at Trinity circle, we could hear not only times winged chariot (which fortunately or unfortunately is heard by ALL, not only lovers of coy mistresses) but also the growls from our guts. We magnanimously decided to be led by the kid and settled for Cubbon Park.
Now then this park, it has a lot of history. In fact it is surrounded by all the old world monuments on which the city prides (or is it prided) itself. A trip to the park was the old Bangalorean's ideal way to unwind (not that there was much need for unwinding, back then!)
In fact I was initiated into the Cubbon Park walking ritual soon upon my arrival at Bangalore by a dear friend who met me (she from her office & me from mine) at the park every noon for a post prandial session of gentle walking and intense b****ing! But soon our sessions metamorphed into an intense cataloging drive of the many eateries Bangalore boasts of! Alas! now that bird has flown and she may be sighted only at her roost in GPO, Mumbai!
Anyway, after over 2 years in the city, we found ourselves there for a family picnic. We reached much hassled and very much hungrier but were really soothed by the bamboo thicket. We found ourselves the best possible spot with a rectagular concrete table and concrete benches all around. (sorry didn't pack a camera) It was only after we had eaten could we be bothered to look around us. There were the usual lumpen lads, vendors of snacks and ofcourse- KAPPI (did I tell you I love this city?), but there were also seniors who were partying with as much fun as they could muster(impressive), coy maidens, yes coy, being wooed by surprisingly sincere looking young men, girls wearing typical southie half sarees, climbing trees, giggling and just being girls in a most unselfconscious fashion.
At that moment, I realised! However much I miss the city of my origin, I know I couldnt have seen such simple unaffected beauty in Delhi. For tht moment I forgot about the traffic mess of Bangalore, the oooh so easy pace of life, the absolute NEED I had to get back to my roots in Delhi and I was glad my children were growing up in the Garden city!
KGA was flooded and CLOSED through the loong Id weekend. While the more enterprising and savvy city golfers would undoubtedly have made alternate arrangements by blocking all available tee-times in Eagleton, BGC & AGC if not the out of city courses in Coorg, Chikmagalur, TN or wherever, my husband (CP to those of you who know him & dh to those who don't) and his entire 8 ball were left high and dry or should we say, marooned. With no ideas from his buddies, he was left mooning around, an extremely grumpy and grouchy golfer! When things got absolutely unbearable, which they do rather quickly around this house, I thought I should step in with a day's plan. Confabbing with the vqarious partied involved such as pretty preteen and perky lil one (^o^), we decided on a picnic!
We left the house with tonnes of puri, aloo & the usual stuff and embarked on our imprompto picnic. Having been spoiled silly by the abundance of picnic spots in saadi dilli, we started lamenting the dearth of places such as India Gate lawns, Buddha Jayanti park, Lodi garden, Rose Garden, Hauz Khas & all, and came up with what we considered as viable options. Kid said he wanted to go to Cubbon Park, like a lil kannadiga that he is. CP wanted something slightly way out and suggested the Big Banyan Tree on Mysore Road. Me, after some frantic calls settled on Hessarghatta lake beyond Peenya. Preteen in her typical laconic but bang-on way way said, "Whatever, but the monkeys at the BBT are SOME thing!"
Meanwhile, stuck in atypical Bangalore traffic mess still at Trinity circle, we could hear not only times winged chariot (which fortunately or unfortunately is heard by ALL, not only lovers of coy mistresses) but also the growls from our guts. We magnanimously decided to be led by the kid and settled for Cubbon Park.
Now then this park, it has a lot of history. In fact it is surrounded by all the old world monuments on which the city prides (or is it prided) itself. A trip to the park was the old Bangalorean's ideal way to unwind (not that there was much need for unwinding, back then!)
In fact I was initiated into the Cubbon Park walking ritual soon upon my arrival at Bangalore by a dear friend who met me (she from her office & me from mine) at the park every noon for a post prandial session of gentle walking and intense b****ing! But soon our sessions metamorphed into an intense cataloging drive of the many eateries Bangalore boasts of! Alas! now that bird has flown and she may be sighted only at her roost in GPO, Mumbai!
Anyway, after over 2 years in the city, we found ourselves there for a family picnic. We reached much hassled and very much hungrier but were really soothed by the bamboo thicket. We found ourselves the best possible spot with a rectagular concrete table and concrete benches all around. (sorry didn't pack a camera) It was only after we had eaten could we be bothered to look around us. There were the usual lumpen lads, vendors of snacks and ofcourse- KAPPI (did I tell you I love this city?), but there were also seniors who were partying with as much fun as they could muster(impressive), coy maidens, yes coy, being wooed by surprisingly sincere looking young men, girls wearing typical southie half sarees, climbing trees, giggling and just being girls in a most unselfconscious fashion.
At that moment, I realised! However much I miss the city of my origin, I know I couldnt have seen such simple unaffected beauty in Delhi. For tht moment I forgot about the traffic mess of Bangalore, the oooh so easy pace of life, the absolute NEED I had to get back to my roots in Delhi and I was glad my children were growing up in the Garden city!
November 06, 2005
I think therefore I am
Cogito ergo sum! Latin for I think, therefore, I exist! Rather than arrogating all thought and all existence to myself, I share the honours with all you who are here- and say "You think, therefore, you exist" as an extremely generous extrapolation of Rene Descartes! And while it may seem 'sour', like most things in life the title of my blogspace is deliberately obdurately misleading- 'so you are' is not to be read as sour. I've embarked on this blog with reservations and misgivings and exhortations from my family not to let all the skeletons out, so, while I would continue to exist, this blog here needs your comments for its continued existence.
Given that this is my first post and the people reading it (atleast for old times sake) would be friends, lets take a trip down memory lane. Given the way I look, and my friends don't need a pic to confirm this- there is not often a need for me to take a peek at the self and I generally avoid undertaking such daunting and daring activities. This policy has stood me in good stead for a large part of my life but then POLICIES are sooo boring.
Suddenly, one day, I looked into a mirror! WHAT A SHOCK it was! Me, a middle-aged woman (a couple of gray hair, too), with one husband, two kids, one steady boring bureaucratic career and no fun prospects whatsoever! How did I reach here? A birdwatcher who hasn't hefted a Salim Ali or Grimmett, Inskipp & Inskipp in eons? A person who doesn't climb trees however easy they are to climb. A creature who goes to the beach and sits demurely by the chappals? while kiddies splash about? A geographer who does book-keeping? And a dilliwalli in Bangalore?
So what really went absolutely wrong? Can it all be docked at the altar of marriage? Can a person change so much only becuz she lives in a different address? has tagged on a different 'sur'name? Or it it more biological? A hotch-potch soup of big mamas- estrogen & progestrone with the character roles being played by cortisol, adrenaline, prolactin, oxytocin, insulin and ofcourse the 'lil' daddy, testosterone? I have been known to hold the view that our lives are chemically determined and the only way to change things is through chemical intervention!?!
How did I or that most of us, land up where we are at present? Yes, we do have a sense of achievement and accomplishment, but is this what we set out for? Did the sweetest voice in school (not me, for the benefit of those who dont know me) not aspire to sing more than lullabies? Didn't the best footballer not want to more than a player of the stock market? And did the lawyers start by dreaming of legal skulldrudgery?? Yet the amazing thing is that so many of us are still so excited about keeping in touch and meeting up with each other. Come 18th of December, 2005, a 100+ of us from school are actually going to be there for the 21st! annual- looking, looking looking. Desperately seeking a confirmation from each other that we look the same- that though we are older, rounder, gentler, kinder to each other's faults, forgiving to a large extent our own and others' foibles, we are what we started of as. As fresh and cheeky and bright eyed as when we thought the world was black & white and not a maze of grays which we have to constantly interpret & navigate.
So, to reiterate the point, while we are constantly straddling the world to stay ahead, we do need to look back over our shoulders to see how far ahead we are and how quickly we can bridge the gap back to the starting point! And I feel that we need to take that measure because we NEED to stay in touch with our selves. Here I rest case- I think, therefore, I am and you think, so you are!
Given that this is my first post and the people reading it (atleast for old times sake) would be friends, lets take a trip down memory lane. Given the way I look, and my friends don't need a pic to confirm this- there is not often a need for me to take a peek at the self and I generally avoid undertaking such daunting and daring activities. This policy has stood me in good stead for a large part of my life but then POLICIES are sooo boring.
Suddenly, one day, I looked into a mirror! WHAT A SHOCK it was! Me, a middle-aged woman (a couple of gray hair, too), with one husband, two kids, one steady boring bureaucratic career and no fun prospects whatsoever! How did I reach here? A birdwatcher who hasn't hefted a Salim Ali or Grimmett, Inskipp & Inskipp in eons? A person who doesn't climb trees however easy they are to climb. A creature who goes to the beach and sits demurely by the chappals? while kiddies splash about? A geographer who does book-keeping? And a dilliwalli in Bangalore?
So what really went absolutely wrong? Can it all be docked at the altar of marriage? Can a person change so much only becuz she lives in a different address? has tagged on a different 'sur'name? Or it it more biological? A hotch-potch soup of big mamas- estrogen & progestrone with the character roles being played by cortisol, adrenaline, prolactin, oxytocin, insulin and ofcourse the 'lil' daddy, testosterone? I have been known to hold the view that our lives are chemically determined and the only way to change things is through chemical intervention!?!
How did I or that most of us, land up where we are at present? Yes, we do have a sense of achievement and accomplishment, but is this what we set out for? Did the sweetest voice in school (not me, for the benefit of those who dont know me) not aspire to sing more than lullabies? Didn't the best footballer not want to more than a player of the stock market? And did the lawyers start by dreaming of legal skulldrudgery?? Yet the amazing thing is that so many of us are still so excited about keeping in touch and meeting up with each other. Come 18th of December, 2005, a 100+ of us from school are actually going to be there for the 21st! annual- looking, looking looking. Desperately seeking a confirmation from each other that we look the same- that though we are older, rounder, gentler, kinder to each other's faults, forgiving to a large extent our own and others' foibles, we are what we started of as. As fresh and cheeky and bright eyed as when we thought the world was black & white and not a maze of grays which we have to constantly interpret & navigate.
So, to reiterate the point, while we are constantly straddling the world to stay ahead, we do need to look back over our shoulders to see how far ahead we are and how quickly we can bridge the gap back to the starting point! And I feel that we need to take that measure because we NEED to stay in touch with our selves. Here I rest case- I think, therefore, I am and you think, so you are!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)