Showing posts from October, 2013

Small town joys and a TV set

When I was 12 years old, we almost bought a television set. It wasn't ours, sadly. Our neighbours had bought a TV and the delivery guys mistakenly delivered it home.

I was so giddy with excitement, I couldn't sit still. Then the delivery guys said, sorry and went away. I still remember that awful disappointment, that sickening lurch I felt. Of course, my father bought a TV set too, how could he not, when the neighbours had one? So, eventually we were proud owners of an Uptron colour television set. Those days various state government agencies made quality gadgets. In Kerala, we had Keltron TV sets, though I have no idea why we bought an Uptron TV. Anyway, it lasted us years.

Naturally, the TV had pride of place in our living room--my parents actually converted an unused window space into a little wooden cabinet (complete with two doors), for this contraption of wires and picture tube.

Soon my evenings were filled with Didi Drives me Crazy and Spiderman Cartoons. As I grew old…


I nurse my grievances for ages
I tend to it, water it
And watch my resentment grow.
Till, I explode in anger
To leave fragments of hurt and pain
Strewn around me.
But children are not like that.

I'd shouted and ranted at the little fellow yesterday.
What did he do to deserve that?
He made me drop a hot mug of tea.
So of course, I was a monster for doing what I did. 
But when I apologised to him later.
He said, "That's okay".
And promptly forgot about it.

He moved on.
What an amazing thing to do.
Why can't we adults be like that?
When did we lose this capacity to forgive?


I think I'm hooked.
Totally and absolutely

I've got it real bad
And that's kinda sad.
Shopping was never my thing
It didn't give me a zing.

Problem is, this is so easy

Sounds darn cheesy.
But when I spot a deal
Half-price, what a steal!
It's like I'm manic
Some kind of panic.

No time to ponder, or reflect
Here goes nothing, what the heck!

First I click on buy
Then I go, oh my!

For I've done it again

Seen a sale, felt the pain
Of being afflicted
Totally addicted
To shopping online
Come rain or shine.

So yeah, I'm hooked,
Absolutely booked.
I don't know what to do.
How about you?


Life lessons from little people

Sometimes children say and do the darndest things. And help you learn something new about life and living....
When little man was just over a year old, he ate a cockroach egg. Or at least, he tried to. But my husband noticed and hurriedly got it out. Baby probably had a taste, though. Ugh.
Why did he think he could eat something like that? I realised children don’t subscribe to our notions of ‘good’, ‘bad’ and utterly yuck--till we actually (like I did), have a mini meltdown and yell that they absolutely cannot just pick up shiny, brown objects, just because said objects look interesting!
But then children are so open in their approach to life. So trusting, for one thing. For a long time, when he was a baby, he would happily exclaim "Ajja" or ‘Ajji’ (Kannada for ‘grandfather/grandmother') whenever he spotted a white-haired gentleman or lady. He would hold his arms out with a winsome smile. The recipients would coo and respond in kind. Till, my husband and I, with fe…

Red earth, pouring rain

I feel the weather
Through every pore. 
When the sky is aflame with heat
And the wind feels sore
My skin thirsts moisture.

This dryness saps strength
Strips away happiness.
And my body, like the earth
is left bereft.
Laid bare, as it were.

But when the air is swollen
The earth runs red
With pouring rain
Then joy blossoms deep within.
Every sense tingles,
Pulses with life
Like the fertile earth.

Our bodies are barometers
Of the world around us.
Yes, we fool ourselves
With half-truths
About our lives,
Our changing planet.
But our senses, like the earth, do not lie.

A woman of a certain age (a poem)

It's probably true
That quite unlike you
There are things I cannot do.

It's probably right
That if it feels tight
I gotto put up a fight.

It's probably best
If I just confessed
I'm no girl, 'nuff said.

I can't have it all
And still stay small.
So, no more gentle strolls
To target those rolls.
I got to really stride
And yes, move that hide

Gotto run, break a sweat
Or believe you me, I fret
That weight loss goals
Won't be met.

Can't eat my cake
Without a bellyache.
Chocolates? It's like this you see
I love 'em, but I also get acne.
Yes, even at my age.
Life really is strange.

Hot pants? Er, not for me,
With lycra, maybe. 
But a celeb I'm not
For pants that short
Fitted jeans more my thing
To add that infinitesimal zing.

If you must know
I'm a girl no more.
I'm all woman now
Come into my own, and how!

My age? You want to gauge
A woman of a certain age?
Oh, please don't compel

You see, a lady would never tell.


Money is one man's cataract surgery, another's cake

Money, wealth--it really is all relative. That truth hit home, recently.

Last week, the autodriver I hailed asked me what a cataract is, and if it can be cured with tablets. It's a white clouding of the eye, I said, in my ungrammatical Hindi. It has to be surgically removed, I added.

The man nodded as if confirming something in his mind. His father, he said, has cataract. And hospitals in Bangalore have told him it will cost Rs 12,000 to Rs 15,000 for an operation. "I have Rs 8,000 with me, but none of the hospitals will do it for that amount," the driver shrugged. Then he turned to me. "I apologise for disturbing you with these questions," he said, as he drove me to where I wanted to go.

Sitting there, I found myself grappling with intense shame. This man needed Rs four thousand more to get the surgery done for his father. I've probably spent about that much shopping online in the past couple of weeks. For that matter, little man and I recently attended a…