Lookup to be a Better Person

Chennai is one the oldest cities in our country. The city's walls are seeped in history and culture. Chennai Fort, Connemara Library, Anna Salai, Kapaleeshwar Temple, RK Math in Mylapore, Elliot's Beach, Dakshina Chitra - these are some iconic spots which are the landmark of this ancient in terms of age, but modern in terms of thoughts - city.

When I first decided to come to Chennai to pursue my higher studies, most people on receiving the news expressed their unhappiness. Their unhappiness stemmed from my choice of city. Chennai they told me was hot, humid, and sultry, and this is all they had to tell to me everytime this topic came up for discussion.

Having received a similar response from most of the audience, I was apprehensive of the move. I tried hard not to get influenced by all the feedback, as my bags were all packed, and tickets booked to take us down south to Chennai. Honestly speaking, I was in a state of doubt even when I boarded the train. It was one of my weakest moments in life as I was not sure if my decision would ruin my career plans. In fact, I was not even sure if I would fit in! And then I realized I don't even know the state language - Tamil! 

I was afraid of leaving behind the familiar roads, comfort of the known, and spending the next few years in a metropolis all by myself. Tears welled up in my eyes. Fear had just balled up in my chest, unwilling to leave. 

This was my state when I reached Chennai, after that everything was a rushed affair. Interview at the department, paying the admission fees, hunting for a habitable hostel, moving into my room with two suitcases and a mattress - it was all just a haze.

My parents left for Jamshedpur not much later. I had moved into a hostel not far from the college I was going to attend, and I shared my room with five other girls. Four of them had come from Manipur and one was from Salem, Tamil Nadu. Our language of communication was English. It was clearly understood that all of us had a common grievance, all of us missed our families and were hundreds of kilometers away from the place called home. That moment I learnt an important lesson. In times of sadness, one does not need any language and speech skills to help, and we all became good friends in the course of time.

Due to the nature of my subject of study, I had to frequent the public library where I discovered a treasure hoard of books. For a bibliophile, nothing is as beautiful and breath taking as the sight of a room full of books! It was my Alice in Wonderland moment. That was Connemara Library, one of the oldest public libraries in our country. The library has the distinction of housing all books that have been published in India. Every day as I walked down to the library, I used to thank my lucky stars for getting me to this city.

And for the people who could describe Chennai only by the words hot, humid, and sultry - I feel they need to come and experience Chennai. Come here not for a vacation, not for a flying visit, stay and experience the glory of this old metropolis, understand its culture, enjoy the rhythm of life bustling in its streets, and then lets hear what you have to say!

Chennai transformed me from a timid, unsure eighteen year old to a confident, independent girl. In my mind the city is a beacon of optimism, moving ahead with its glory fighting against the common perception. It showed me to #lookup and discover the wonders around me.

Do check Housing who envision a world full of positivity and possibilities.

Of Road Trips and Togetherness

New city, new house, new office, and new friends - all this novelty means new memories! After my extended period of stay in Chennai for eight years, I was eagerly looking forward to my move to Bangalore. I was told that one of the many perks of being a resident of Bangalore is the proximity to many travel destinations. And in the like-minded company of my spouse, my travelbug self has never been this happy before.

In the past three months, we have planned and gone on four road trips to Chennai, Pondicherry, Mahabalipuram, and Madikeri. When the road beckons, there is no looking back. 

One of the points I learnt on these trips, is that teamwork is vital. We need to work #Together, use our existing skills to reach the destination. I am limited by my lack of driving knowledge, but I am good with directions and routes. So while my partner is behind the wheel, I am the designated navigator who is logged into Google Maps in my smartphone, checking and verifying the route and traffic details. 

Some of the best memories from these trips are on the road. I fondly recall the time when slowed down to admire the many plantations adorning both sides of the road. The sight of tall eucalyptus trees, short green shrubs of coffee, and a small house in the middle of all this greenery - it was like a picture from a book. 

Another time when passing through an old town, we were greeted with the many memorable sights - a bullock cart driven by an old man with a white flowing beard, children dressed in their school uniform walking with satchels on their back, walls plastered with the poster of the latest movie running in the nearest movie theatre - it looked like a scene out of its timeline. Somehow the life in a city had robbed us of the simple colors of life. All that looked familiar was the jazz, bright, neon hues of the electric billboards. We missed the presence of the uncomplicated life and appreciated them the few times whenever we got a chance. 

 And when It is late in the night, we are inching our way into the city leaving behind the traffic and darkness of the highway, the sight of the road bathed in yellow light is a relief -  a sign of coming back home! 

Do check Housing to learn more about their optimistic approach to help the world live better. 

The Unsent Letter

Dear A,

I apologize for not responding to your letter. As I had told you earlier, all my waking hours were occupied by a project of gargantuan standards which had robbed me off the little social life I had for the past few weeks. Now the project is drawing to its closure, I am having some breathing space and am able to sit down and write a letter in reply to yours.

I did not know where to begin. You see, I was hesitating till the moment I wrote down the first word, and then it all came pouring out of me. Most personal letters are intimate; they act as windows to one's soul and mind. Sometimes when one writes, its such a rush that one leaves behind thoughts of apprehension and just pens down their thoughts in a flow. One forgets to hide, conceal what they would have done naturally. So there it is, my reason. But now that I see I have made substantial progress, allow me go on.

A, it was a delight meeting you last December. People say it is the best month to visit Chennai. I am glad you visited the city at a good time. I say this because the same people complain that it is too hot here, and it doesn't get better. December, according to them is the month when its the least hot.

I enjoyed the walk, back from Spencer Plaza. We talked about quite a few things back then. I found you extremely patient as I went on rambling about my work, the books I had been reading, and what my friends had to say about you. I recall that you were smiling. I would be very much interested to know which part of the conversation did you find amusing. Frankly, I was surprised when you showed interest in my work and even suggested a few solutions to the issue I mentioned. Till date I have not been very successful in having a discussion on this subject except with my friends at work. And when I could talk to you about it, I knew that I had found a friend in you. 

When we first started talking back in June 2013, I did not have much hope for us. My search for my ideal partner was drawing a nil, and I had very low expectations. But you surprised me from the first word. How do I summarize it? We connected on so many aspects - our experiences of growing up in a steel city, love for food, Bengali culture, and movies. I could discuss Gulaal, Coldplay, and Posto in the same breath and be understood. Sigh! It was happiness redefined for me.

I hope you would give me a chance to find some moments where I can bring happiness to your doorstep. It is with this thought that I hope we can continue this correspondence. 

Yours truly,
Meera

This post is a part of IndiSpire, initiative for Indian Bloggers by IndiBlogger. 

Book Review: Ramayana - The Game of Life - Shattered Dreams

This book is the second part in the Ramayana - The Game of Life series by Shubha Vilas. The timeline is set twelve years after Ram's marriage to Sita. The author has drawn influence from the writings of Valmiki and Tulsidas, and attributes his interest in this epic mythological drama to the daily storytelling session by his grandmother. The book begins with Rama's coronation as the king of Ayodhya, followed by Manthara's sinister scheme to crown Bharatha and send Rama to exile, which leads to the death of a heartbroken Dasaratha, and ends with the trio of Rama, Sita, and Lakshmana's departure towards the Dandakarnaya forest. 

High points:

1. The narration is gripping, it kept me hooked to the book with its interesting storyline. I was intrigued by the author's method of looking into the soul of the character and writing out his deepest, innermost feelings. 

2. Each page is filed with vivid description of the scene and the characters. Its like the scene is coming to life in front of your eyes. Its a reader's delight when one gets to read such a visually enriching scene.

3. There is a detailed character sketch for the characters who drive the story forward. I could feel Dasaratha's fear as he was tormented each night by the recurring nightmares, and also his relief when the subjects at the royal court accepted Rama as his successor. 

4. Presence of footnotes. This book is not only a retelling of an epic, but also aims to motivate the reader and help him in his spiritual journey as he embarks on this reading trip. It would not have been easy, if not for the presence of footnotes at the end of each page which offers a simple but detailed explanation for the section referenced.

Low points:

1. Since the book is part of a series, it is best if one has read the first book in the series Ramayana - The Game of Life - Rise of the Sun Prince. 

2. In certain sections, the narration loses its pace and there is an excess of detail which makes it a slow read. But then again good things come to those who wait, so patience is a quality that comes in handy when reading this book.

Final verdict: The Ramayana - The Game of Life - Shattered Dreams (Book 2) is an interesting read for anyone who is looking out for understanding the wisdom concealed within the stories of the epic, Valmiki's Ramayana. It provides a deep insight into the characters mind and also does a brilliant job in recreating the scene in the reader's mind. Since I havenot read the first part of this book series, I would recommend that one should read the Ramayana - The Game of Life - Rise of the Sun Prince (Book 1) first to gain a better understanding of the story and its memorable characters.

This post is a part of Book Review Program for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. Participate now to get free books!

Heavy on Salt

"The dal was heavy on salt.", he declared as soon as he walked in to the house. Back from office, he set down the grey and black backpack on the floor, proceeded to sit on the chair lined next to the rickety rack of shoes. It was as if the salt had cast a dry spell on his day and had sucked out all charm out of it. This was of course was unacceptable to Mamoni. 

 

Mamoni frowned and said,"It tasted fine to me." and just like that she questioned Meera, "Beta did you add salt to the dal when you warmed it up this morning?". The question took Meera by surprise. She had been busy typing away the course objectives of the presentation for a POC which was due the next day. All her focus was in the laptop screen; she considered herself fortunate the days she did not have to  be part of such conversations. Today was not going to be one such day.

She looked up from her laptop, puzzlement written all over her face. "Are Biren said the dal was over-salted. Did you add more salt?", Mamoni asked her in a sweet stern voice. Meera looked at her husband for a sign and he looked away. Mumbling to himself, Biren withdrew into the inner room dragging the backpack after him.

Meera jogged her memory back to the morning hours. Today morning she had woken up late by 10 minutes and that had set her routine back. She had taken out the kaddu ki sabji and doled out a portion of it to warm it up for the lunch. Meanwhile she had brushed her teeth, collected the milk packet from the packet, taken out the dal for heating up. But she did not remember adding the salt. "I did not.", Meera replied softly. Mamoni looked at her with a look that accused her of lying. She was a Leo, known to be a fierce woman who reigned over her household, and the kitchen was her domain. She was not going to be found lacking in handling this situation. Just this evening she had told Meera how the begunis she had made on Sunday, were low on salt. "Baki sob thik, noon ta ektu kom chilo", she gave her critique's feedback. 

Meera was disheartened on hearing it. That afternoon, when she was serving the beguni along with hot kichudi, Mamoni had showered praises on her. She declared that the begunis had come out right, crisp and tasty. Biren was beaming with pride. He knew that it was not easy to a good word from Mamoni's mouth. If only he knew what was on Mamoni's mind.

Salt is a key ingredient which is used for adding flavour in many cuisines. One has to be very careful while adding salt. A little more and the food could become unpalatable, a little less and the food could go untouched on the plate. It has to be there in the correct quantity so that one can savour the taste and enjoy the food. Criticism is just like salt, a little more and you can make someone unhappy, doubtful of their abilities; little less and they would be too sure of their skills to even care for improving. Meera mused as she lay on the bed, eyes locked on the fan above, blades following each other in a never ending chase. 

Quote on Soul Mate

This quote by Elizabeth Gilbert explores the concept of soul mate as told to her by a friend. It completely shatters the usual belief that is related to soul mates and marriage. 

This post is a part of IndiSpire, initiative for Indian Bloggers by IndiBlogger. IndiSpire topic of the week: Soul mate is not necessarily your life mate. What do you feel? Express your take...#Soulmate.

Musings on the Edge

Draped in a fiery red benarasi sari, she stood still, staring at the evening sun as it went behind the old neem tree. A cold breeze blew in through the window. Meera drew the end of her sari over the shoulder wrapping it around herself. 

Countless thoughts flashed across her mind - she thought about her parents, her Dada and Boudi, she thought about Roy, who had come down for her big day cradling an adorable baby in her arms, and she thought about Sid.

Sid. In her mind, she was eighteen years old, sitting at her seat in the classroom. The last time she was here, she was ten years younger, fired with the ambition of becoming a lawyer, and nursing a secret crush for Sid. He was new to their school, having joined their class to pursue his eleventh class studies. She remembered him as a tall boy with dark eyebrows and a deep booming voice. That had got him the title of Danav. And even after all these years it had stuck.

Last month when Sunil had met her, he had been excited about the reunion that was planned for March. It would be exactly ten years since they had passed out of school. Most of their classmates had left Jamshedpur for their higher studies, they continued to live away from home for job interests, but always came back for family, friends or any celebrations. But not for Meera. Her family had moved from Jamshedpur as soon as she completed her school. She was reluctant to go back and “Meera you have to come!”, said Sunil in exasperation when she had expressed her disinterest in the event.

Last year when she turned 26, she decided to stay back in Chennai, quietly bidding adieu to her the first quarter of her life. And most probably her spinsterhood. Off late all the conversations with her parents revolved around her marriage. They were old and anxious, and promised that they could breathe in peace if only she gave her consent for marriage. Meera was caught in the web of life. She had moved to Chennai, hoping to meet the love of her life. But fate was cruel and didn't allow her to move past her memories of Sid. The clock was ticking, and she still hadn't moved on. She could not make it to the reunion. That evening she had sat with her laptop, looking at her timeline which was flooding with updates and photographs from the reunion. The faces were bright with big smiles and crinkled eyes. And there in one of the photos, she saw him. That moment she felt regret seeping into her heart. She had lost her chance. 

She was startled by a loud knock at her door. "Meeraa! Have you draped the sari beta?", it was her beloved mashi. "The lady from the beauty parlour will be here any minute now. Hurry up". Meera shut her eyes, disappointed that her sojourn with her last evening as a spinster came to an end.