deviousways

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...

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 Booked. 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? ______________________

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 husba...

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.

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 lad...

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 attend...