A CRICKET MATCH

Game in progress :

We accompanied the Shindes on Saturday, 25th July, to Woodbridge, near Edison, where the NY-NJ League Cricket Finals (J & J, TCS and AIG, TCS) were taking place on a school playground. Other apparently choice locales had been rejected since they refused to allow any sort of activity on the grounds without having each and every player insured. No one was keen on taking such trouble, so the school, which did not create any such fuss, was accorded the due respect. We set out at about 11 am, armed with newspapers, sunscreen, granola bars, water, caps and hats and all the other paraphernalia necessary to sitting on a carpet of grass in summer for the sake of boosting the morale of the players (K's colleagues and our friends). We were specially prepared to cheer Madhav, whose wife was in India at that moment and who was also nursing an injured back, owing to a muscle he had pulled in an earlier match leading upto the finals and who wasn't therefore in a very happy frame of mind. We were also looking forward to watching Ankesh, who had done us all proud by notching up numerous runs to our credit in former matches and had thereby gained the reputation of a bankable player. Besides, there were Ajoy, Rensil, Tridib Da, Sumitro etc who we were all quite pally with and eager therefore to watch in action.

The gathering :

The game had already begun by the time we arrived. There was quite a gathering, mostly the family of the players and others like us, who evidently considered it their prime moral duty to utilise their Sat morning by cheering their own team and booing the other. The best example of this was one worthy spouse of a player in the other team who kept on crying out at suitably spaced intervals " We want wicket !", initially with considerable enthusiasm and later it seemed, out of sheer inertia of vociferation. Poor thing, she had evidently had no breakfast and was evidently keen on having some wickets instead.

Mid-day scene :

There were several chairs, mostly occupied by spouses of the other team members and we weren't sure whether we should be impudent enough to go grab the former. After considering the matter for several awkward moments, we opted out and settled down instead on a large mattress spread out for the occasion. Most of the boys prefered to remain standing (Abhishek and K obviously feeling that their providing company to their team would somehow compensate adequately for not playing in the actual match themselves).

The boys look on :

The HR proved themselves quite well equipped for the situation, handing out packets of Lays chips and bottles of water and soda at frequent intervals and even providing mini packages of Papa John's pizza for lunch (veg and non-veg ones stacked respectively in the dicky of a car and its front seat).

Alas. Our team, which was batting, outdid themselves. I think the fact that their last practice match had taken place the very day before this one must have messed up their muscles and morale. They looked quite tired and behaved quite spent. The extreme heat and scorching sun did nothing to make things better. Wickets fell, thick and fast. Despite some ear-splitting whistles from Abhishek and hoarse cheering from another team member I was unacquainted with (to the effect of pointing out that there were too many wides and no-balls and too much 'chucking'), things didn't go well. Sumitro later said that the pitch had seemed scarily long to him while Ankesh looked quite baffled, having been bowled out from behind (he was to remain mystified for the rest of the day). Madhav looked worse than before, having strained his already injured back muscle and not being able to make too many runs in such a sorry situation, although he did hit an overboundary and I clapped enthusiastically till my hands were sore. Ajoy, Rensil, Tridib Da were back by the time we were just warming up to watch them. In short, things were pretty grim by the end of the first session.

Post-lunch, our team seemed to be picking up. The fielding was consistent and the bowling edgy. But the other team proved too well-organised and strategically sound to outdo. It was evident that the game would soon be over and we soon diverted our energies to watching the children in their activities than the game itself.

Children play their own games :

It was. The prize distribution ceremony took place almost immediately. Mr Suri, president of TCS, North America, did the honours. No mean feat that, considering he had flown in from India that very morning and must have been quite exhausted after a 20 hours' journey. He also cheered up everyone by stressing that the game had been played in the right spirit and that was what mattered at the end of the day.

Mr Suri :

The trophy, close up :

The runners up were all given mini-trophies and their captain, the legendary BRM(owing to his talent for procrastination) Ravi Rout, regaled all present with a short speech in which he hinted at another form of spirit being anticipated later, win or no win. The winning team took centrestage after that, one team member mysteriously nicknamed 'Funny' (Phani ?!) being cheered so noisily that it almost verged on booing. So much for etiquette. Finally, there was a photo session, where everyone from the respective teams, players or no, posed to oblige us.

The score-board :

The runners-up, TCS_ J & J :

The winners, TCS_ AIG :

I was secretly glad that the awards ceremony didn't last too long, because I'd left my cap on the grass under the shade of the tree where we'd been sitting and felt like my scalp was on fire, the sun was so offensively hot at that point of time (about 2.30 pm). To top it all, Sumitro announced that we had proved quite inauspicious after all. Talk of ingratitude ! We left soon after, although our departure was somewhat unexpectedly delayed by the heating up of the leather seats in Abhishek Shinde's car, which meant we had to wait haplessly in the fierce sunshine with the car doors wide open, while the car AC cooled down the seats enough for us to rest our sensitive behinds on it !

OF PLANS AND PLATITUDES

This weekend started on a fairly mundane note, we spending Sat morning doing some shopping at Walmart. One of K's colleagues, Kaushik, called up in the afternoon and expressed his desire that we get together for an adda session and he was duly encouraged to come over for the same. The adda was just warming up, with K and the former (both of a similar reserved temperament) just beginning to show signs of relaxing their guard in complex areas such as emotion and experience, when there was a sudden and quite unexpected interruption. Another colleague called, announcing an impromptu plan to set forth about 40 mins later for a spur-of-the-moment group outing to the nearby Laurence Harbour. K and I were in a bit of a fix. For although all of us were quite amenable to the idea, it wasn't good manners to rush a visitor through dinner, especially when he wasn't of the eat-and-go type. Fortunately, however, he seemed totally unperturbed by all the rushing and fussing and managed to enjoy his dinner in the midst of it all. We all assembled at the parking lot of Mayflower Apartments in Piscataway, home to several members of the group, and set off with three cars around 11.30 pm. We reached the projected destination within half-an-hour and that rather too eventfully for my taste : Kaushik taking exits at exactly the same speed that he seemed to be driving on on the highway, which could range anywhere between 80-100 miles/hr, scaring me into donning seatbelts (which I usually hate and prefer to avoid if and whenever possible) even on the backseat of the car. Coupled to that was his preference for really loud music. I'm lucky I still have my hearing intact after the volume at which he seemed to prefer his songs.

Anyway, we were all glad we'd fallen in with the plan, once we'd reached the place and taken a look.


Of course, it was pitch dark at the waterfront and too dimly lit for quality photography, but there was a keen sea breeze with a sharp tang to tantalise our senses and cool us down. Besides, the long boardwalk was interestingly structured, with benches at decent intervals and numerous nooks and corners designed to encourage romantic rendezvous.

In fact, we ourselves stumbled upon a quite classic instance of the latter at one end of the boardwalk, which jutted right into the quietly rippling, ruffling water itself. The couple concerned were unabashed by our rude and often rowdy interruptions and seemed quite lost in their own world, romancing with ruthless abandon throughout the duration of our halt, which might have lasted for half-an-hour, or maybe even longer. Some of us ventured down though the steel fencing and made our way to the rocks, where we sat quietly, watching the blue-black sheets of water slide towards the white sand, stumble and mutter a pained, smothered retreat. There was something immeasurably soothing about those sombre, still moments that we spent there, quite difficult to put into words but certainly offering a pacifying, placating compensation for the immeasurable cruelty and clutter in our everyday lives.

After we made it to the other end of the pier and back, we were both tickled and tantalised by the sight of a couple, who were just settling down on the sands, under the stars, for what seemed like a good night's sleep. "Poor fellows, they don't have the money to buy a fan or AC and decided they'd cool down the natural way", I sympathised. Needless to say, most of the others had considerably more obscene explanations to offer.

The outing ended with dessert at the Gulatis' place on Mercer Street, Somerville, which consisted of the residual tiramisu and cheesecake from Sritama's birthday. We finally ended up in bed at 3 pm, me remembering just in time to call Tua to wish her on her birthday. She was considerably mystified, of course, to find us wide awake at that ungodly hour. It was also Titai's birthday but we had had the good sense to call her up when we were out on the rocks, quite literally.

That reminds me : Titai informed us that Abir had been to his first day's shoot of Anjan Dutt's adaptation of Saradindu's Byomkesh story Adim Ripu (Primal Instinct) that very morning. And I was pleasantly surprised to find it had been covered by today's TOI too. What fun ! And I seriously think Abir's looks in general contribute quite felicitously to the character in question. Am definitely looking forward to the film.

Sunday afternoon was spent scouring shops for a new pair of formal shoes for K. We did the rounds of Walmart, Target, Kohls and Marshall's, quite annoyed at the lamentable dearth of options for men and the exorbitant price tags. We finally found a happy deal at Payless Shoesource, which we therefore judged as thoroughly worthy of its name. So K has gone to office, a happy man today, sporting a new haircut and new shoes. The last time I'd been to Great Clips, I'd spotted an impressive haircut look on one of the 'Inspire' magazines they seem to stock a great deal of. This time though, I had the presence of mind to photograph it on my cellphone, for future reference :

After a very late lunch of bhaat, daal and tandoori butter chicken at 4.30 pm (!), we took a short nap and dropped in at the Maitis' place at Somerset Mews. They've bought a good deal more furniture recently and the apartment looks really pretty now. I took a few photos and Moumita was glad that at least she'd possess a couple of photos to send to her friends, who were bugged with her lethargic inability to share the same with them for a long time now. Well, I'm glad my photographic sorties are proving to be of some use to someone. K doesn't take it seriously most of the time !

Well anyway, after a pleasant adda, we were back home, doing such mundane tasks as cooking. We ate very little dinner and spent a happy pre-bed hour reading and net-surfing respectively (no prizes for guessing who was engaged in the latter). Btw, we've finally discovered the immense difference between the effects of yellow and white light, and are relieved we finally plumped for the latter. Nothing like cool, clear light to encourage one's reading habits, that's for sure.

Memorial Day Vacation -2

Well, but apart from the ducks, there were actually other distractions in the Main Street region of Lake Placid. Foremost was the nature of downtown itself, which looked like the ideal vacation spot...people in summer attire with just a light jacket or wrap draped casually over their shoulders, strolling about with soda or coffee cups or icecreams in their hands with no definite aim in mind except appearing aimless, huge groups making merry in their own quiet or boisterous way at dinner in the smart roadside restaurants (which sported menus with prices alongside on their doors and walls itself, making it easy for passers-by to make up their minds about whether or not to enter at all), Memorial Day sales going on at most of the big stores, a crisp and bright sky above us and the Mirror Lake, with a beautiful natural waterfront which looked all the more enticing with a few additional strategic accessories, such as a couple of artificial terraces, a few stray deck chairs and a small glass greenhouse skirting the lake itself. Somehow that seemed to have increased the appetite of a huge group of holidaying Indians, who were all gulping down huge mouthfuls of bhelpuri/chaat for what seemed like an endless era. We eyed the area appreciatively and sent the boys to get coffee while we scoured the Gap store by the lake, succumbing to the lure of the 'Upto 50% Sale' Posters.

The 'GAP' store :

Sure enough, the boys ended up with 2 T-shirts each, falling into our "yeah, bargain !" traps (although I must confess I was astonished to find myself magically unaffected by the great bargains and actually exiting the store with nothing but my handbag in tow). Luckily, they were so elated at the prospect of more clothing options (somehow they always end up after packing with insufficient spare clothing, according to us of course) that they remained in a good mood for the rest of the evening, indifferent to Moumita and my constantly attempting to try their patience by stopping umpteen times for photos and inexplicably disappearing into every second roadside store that happened to catch our eyes (too frequent an occurrence for anyone's comfort and enough to annoy a person of the most philosophic temperament). Our ventures were however rewarded at one particular store by a most well-behaved and mild-mannered lady of the canine variety, who seemed to be attending to the counter while the real owner lady chatted with a friend. She even obliged our click-happy selves by gazing right into the lens, unperturbed by the spark of the flash.

The remarkable canine specimen :

But the most memorable part was the half hour we spent lazing by the Mirror Lake, which deserved every cent of its name, with its crystal clear surface. There was a duck couple swimming about near our very feet, who took very little interest in human activities or exclamations and only waddled right onto the bank and upto our feet to check for accidental crumbs (which , much to the hilarity of the others, caused me to panic and grab my bag from its reclining position on the grass, as if anatine characteristics included bag-snatching).


The duck couple :




Despite the 'Please Do Not Feed the Ducks' (which the bhelpuri family decided to follow most religiously), there was an Indian couple which decided to do exactly what they were not supposed to do. Even worse, their liberal supplies of crumbs to the unfortunate birds seemed to consist entirely of buttery popcorn, which probably wouldn't exactly be what the vet would have recommended as part of their diet. We pretended not to notice. After all, everyone was on vacation and the last thing they would have wanted was an impromptu lecture on the morality of feeding ducks.

Mirror Lake :

The view by the lake was like something out of a fairytale, it was so perfect and pristine, so still and serene. We could have spent an entire day there, just listening to the hushed chatter of people around us, the giggles of playing children, the sighing breeze fluttering our hair just the gentlest bit, watching the swimming ducks dig around for worms in the wet grass, the tiny ripples tickling the clear surface of the lake and the houses in the horizon that merged into trees that merged into mountains that merged into clouds that....well, you get the idea.

Felt like heaven :

By the way, the boys failed to win 'Mission Venison'. Apparently, it not being the hunting season, deer meat was not readily available. (It's a totally different issue that our rafting guide Sam mentioned the next morning that he wished he'd known, since he had some venison lying at home in his refrigerator a couple of days ago and would have loved to share a bite with us.)

K, in the quest for venison :

Anyway, before we were finally persuaded to prepare for departure, I as usual casually sauntered into a smart looking restaurant bang in mid-downtown, used the restaurant to freshen up (what a bizarre euphemism, I've always thought !) K is always scared that the staff are not going to be very polite if they notice that I don't really intend to order anything at these places except for working flushes...he behaves as if someone's going to arrest me or something until I actually exit the place without anyone even noticing me most of the time. Moumita being my worthy accomplice today, both the boys were equally jittery until we finally marched out with praiseworthy poise and relieved them (no pun intended) , apparently unharmed after all.

Anyway, we finally set out for the hotel, almost 2 and a half hours away....it was 8 pm when we set out and now, our prime concern was where we should finally obtain dinner. This is what has always struck me as bizarre : the fact that even on weekends, one usually considers oneself lucky if one manages to find any diner functional at the perfectly plausible hour of 10 pm. This is one of the few things that we're yet to become acclimatised to : the fact that people here rise with the sun and retire with sunset, have dinner at 6-7 pm and top it off with a miniscule supper of cookies and milk at what would be our normal dinner-time or haunt the refrigerator in the dead of darkness for a midnight snack to satisfy sudden pangs of hunger. It's obviously the most practical thing to do, I've always thought, given the pattern of late evening sunshine in the northern hemisphere, but we being used to an entirely different set of food timings on the other side of the earth and in a tropical zone, simply cannot order our bodies to follow a similar rhythm. Hence, we were driving back, hoping to stop at some rare highway exit diner along the way, which catered to the eccentric travellers' whims. However, most seemed to be closed or closing, indicated from a distance by dimmed lights, neatly stacked upturned chairs on tables, the lack of any vehicles whatsoever in parking lots and more obviously, by the utter absence of any human being in the premises. Well, we were getting more or less reconciled to dining on our stock of travel snacks that night, especially considering that even the fast food joints nearby the hotel seemed to have downed shutters. We were singularly lucky to find the local Wendy's 'drive-thru' functional. We ordered salads and wraps at a point before the actual window, addressing a disembodied loudspeaker presence (Sabya Da did the honours actually, while we collectively prompted him), which repeated our orders for confirmation. A couple of mins later, we were happy humans, receiving our night's supply of food through the drive-thru window at the back of the eatery. We stumbled into the hotel, bidding each other goodnight at the stairs, into our respective rooms, where a shower later, we were having a healthy dinner (we were the salad freaks, of course) and hit the bed. Actually, K was snoring quite audibly, by the time I had worked my way halfway through my stack of greens. It wasn't very good manners to fall asleep with the TV on, but he was too tired, of course, to take that into consideration !

(To be contd...)

Thundershowers et al

Well, we had quite an experience last Sunday evening. K and I had almost covered 4/5th of our walk route when we suddenly recalled that we were out of green chilli sauce, muri, chanachur, paneer and garlic paste ; we decided to take the road past Desi Bazaar so that we could purchase the necessary items on our way home (how easily we manage to use the word 'home' now to describe a rented apartment in a totally different country, though we're just here for a year or so now never fails to amaze me). Well, we'd just finished buying the things and were preparing to leave the store when we opened the door with dismay to find that the anticipated weekend thundershowers had actually (high time, since there had only been the intimidating inky black/slate grey cloudy skies and dense suffocation for the past two nights) begun and we had no umbrellas, raincoats or the car with us to bail us out. Unpleasant state of affairs, of course, particularly when you have two reasonably heavy polythene carry bags in both hands, including one containing incense).


Well.


After considerable chaotic thoughts and discussion, we decided to call up Abhishek Shinde, our neighbour and friend at Brookside, to come with his car and help us go home, particularly since it being a Sunday, the store in which we seemed to be stranded would itself shortly be closing (around 8 pm) and it was already a quarter past 7. K's call led to the latter's voicemail however. It was my turn. Despite K being awkward about all this asking for aid business, I decided to call up Mansi, Abhishek's wife and explain our situation. I'm glad I overlooked K's hesitation and called. Mansi was very prompt. She explained that Abhishek had been attending a call and had therefore not been able to answer K's call. But she'd pass on the message and see to it that we were 'rescued' pronto. Relieved, we strolled around the shop, trying to look sincerely interested in all it had to offer (not very convincing though, considering we'd been there many times and had by now almost memorised the contents of its whitewashed shelves) .

Luckily, Abhishek Bhaiyya turned up very soon, in dripping jacket with equally dripping umbrella (obviously the latter was rendered practically useless by the merciless onslaught of the thundershowers). We went to the car in pairs, K coming back to retrieve me, both at the shop and at our complex front parking area. He was keen on going home but the Shindes insisted that we stayed on for tea and an adda session and so we surrendered. K was baffled by my not being concerned so much about catching a cold in the pouring rain without mufflers etc to ward off any potential infection as not having my camera on me at that point in order to capture the beautifully vivid surreal looking clouds in the overcast sky. He thinks I'm becoming batty, what with all this 'I just have to get a photo now' phases of mine taking place too frequently nowadays for comfort. LOL.

Well, it was nice though, the long chat session. The guys had beer (I relented for a change) and we had tea. We started with thunder, hopped on to the smoke from Apt #1 in our complex early that morning and then went on to horror films and somehow finally ended up with Varun Gandhi's histrionic skills. The last would have left a bitter taste in the mouth, had we not ended with K's jeera rice and chicken keema that night. With walnut maple icecream for dessert. Yummy !

Depression

Yesterday evening, both K and I were feeling singularly low. There was no palpable sadness or boredom or wistfulness, just the burden of indifference and extreme detachment. I took hardly any interest in our shopping sortie at 'Stop N Shop' yesterday, which was a particular cause of concern for K, since I do usually display quite a lot of enthisiasm via exploration and experimentation every time we embark on a stuffing-the-fridge-to-death trip. K thinks we shouldn't have watched 'Oliver Twist' on a Sunday afternoon, we were evidently suffering from a hangover. But I couldn't be sure ; it might also be the betrayal of spring. Officially the first day of spring here, 20th March, was marred by flurries in the morning and extreme wind chill. The unusually warm weather for the past fortnight or so seemed to have given way with a vengeance to the last of the winter blasts. K had to pull out his thermals morosely yestoday morning and we slept with two comforters last night. Soundly, true, but a tad dejected. It might also have been the weekend hangover, you know...Monday blues and what not. For K, of course, he has to return to his office on Mon morning.

But what occasions this post is the recollection of my dismissal of the Twist hangover being met by K's extraordinary explanation for our bleak state of mind : the prospect of eating vegetables on Monday night (esp because I had made a cabbage curry, which he is rather bored of now; the cabbage I mean, not my cooking, silly !) after a shamelessly decadent non-veg (tandoori chicken kebabs + lamb rogan josh) weekend. He is, in fact, astonished at how he manages to make it through the usually veggies 4-day (Mon-Thu) week; since we usually reserve all our fancy non-veg preparations for the weekend.

Well, I've heard of umpteen reasons to feel down till date, but this one sure took the cake !

Rising costs and real fun

Brookside Gardens has decided to introduce separate heat inflow and water outflow meters in each of our apartments. This means that they have very considerately decided to not increase the monthly rent for the following year but burden us with excess expenses instead, depending on how hot/cold a climate we'd rather live in and how wisely we'd be utilising one of the world's most precious natural resources. They cite increasing utility costs on their front as justification. Rubbish. All they want to make is more money out of their tenants. But they do reserve the right to introduce new and alter old clauses in our 13-month apartment lease (why on earth did we agree on such a long one !) and so all we can do is grumble and sulk. And of course shell out more money at the end of each month. Damn.


Anyway, thanks to the notice we received from them informing us of little or no water availability from 8am to 6pm from the 10th to the 16th, we had to reschedule our daily routine, getting up at a painfully early 7 am and going to bed with babies at 10 pm. Hummmmph. It also meant doing bizarre things like taking a bath at 7.10 am, going back to bed at 8.30 am (after K left for office) and filling all available juice bottles and the bath to the brim with storage water for emergencies. No wonder I wasn't in the creative mood for quite a few days. The most annoying bit was that the plumbing lot (doing the water meter set-up) decided to turn up on the very last of the allotted days. Naturally, just my luck. The good part was that K had come home around lunch, feeling feverish. So I could take a nap while he supervised the maintenance guys. Not that they seemed to be waiting to take orders, trampling all over our freshly vacuumed floors and carpet in the very shoes they must have traversed numerous restrooms in. Eww. Gross. I think I'll do another round of vacuuming before we return the apparatus to the Shindes.


Returning to the former weekend. Friday evening was spent at Walmart, where we bought new beige-grey floor mats for the car besides a small pack of 200 buttons (in every shade you can think of) and a set of 24 spools of thread (rainbow hues) and three needles, each of the two costing just 88 cents. Also did some gift shopping, consisting of a beautiful set of bath toiletries in lavender (my favourite fragrance) for Moumita's b'day (long overdue, as it had been on 27th Nov) and a make up accessories set for Mitu. K had developed a crick at the waist (God knows how he managed so much activity at office) and was groaning and moaning in pain, but was extremely generous and waited for me on a seat in the ladies' shoes section while I tried on some of the cuts that appealed to me. My sincere efforts to discourage him, saying that it wasn't an emergency purchase, gave way before he insistence. I suppose he too (like me) is tired of seeing me wear everything (trousers and jeans at the moment) with a single pair of white sneakers. I was so glad that there are so many beautiful designs in my own size. It is tough to find any decent design in my own size in any good shoe shop in India. I always end up frustrated, hurling expletives at the genetic map that has endowed me with my big feet. After trying on three new cuts in my favourite neutrals (grey, beige grey and navy), we decided to look in the boots section. I love boots but don't want to buy something that won't be of much practical utility in the tropical climate when we return (oh, don't worry, my shoes do take a long time to wear out) and so, K and I hunted for something that would fall somewhere between an ankle boot and a pump. We found the perfect pair in a beautiful dark tan. The name of the model is 'Shani' (bizarre, to say the least) and it's a (gasp) size 11. Well, 10 was a wee bit tight and so I decided to not take chances. Here it is :


I helped K with dinner preparations after we finally arrived home. K did an excellent chicken curry (attested to by the currently much commented on photo of K in my orkut album) and we had rice instead of ruti while watching 'Major Saab'. Aaaah, nothing as good as our traditional mangsho bhaat.

Spent the entire Sat morning helping K to vacuum the place with the help of the Shindes' vacuum cleaner, which is weirdly different from the Eureka Forbes vacuum cleaner I've been used to all my life. The latter was a compact horizontal apparatus in a dirty chrome yellow and beige and I was glad that it was Baba who did the vacuuming most of the time, since I have a colour fetish and can't function when objects and accessories around me aren't my colour. Mamoni has got the hang of it by now but the rest of the world probably hasn't. It's a skeleton in my cupboard, if you will. But let's not meander. The Shindes' machine is vertically structured and an understated red and black (photo below). No wonder I was disappointed that I wasn' t the person allowed to do the vacuuming (to be honest, I was talking nineteen to the dozen with Titai and didn't even notice that K had begun !). But I did at least prove useful with moving things around and re-placing them after K was done with the whishing and whooshing. We both felt rejuvenated after the whole process, believe me, for some obscure reason, it actually felt cathartic.

Took a short nap after watching half of 'Dhonyi Meye' on the laptop while blowdrying our hair (did it for K too, who was amazed at all the extra hair he seemed to have developed at the end of the session, provoking much mirth in me). Had to go to Walgreens around 6.30 pm to replace a large plastic container that used to do double duty as the flour bowl and the marinade tray. Found one slightly smaller but almost a replica of the former. Then did a tour of the locality, taking photos of Christmas decorations for the folks at home. Almost froze to death at Adamsville, where my passion for photography took precedence over my sense of numb fingers and a bare head. An early dinner with shorshe begun followed by the online form submission for my EAD did wonders in warming up the body and cheering the spirit.

Sunday morning, following breakfast, was a mad scramble to complete preparations for the cooking of lunch (K did all the cooking eventually, helped by my cutting and washing and getting the ingredients ready) amidst Skype-chatting with Ma-Baba-Mitu, giving them a virtual tour of the entire apartment via webcam and feeding instructions to the GPS for our afternoon destination, the Regal Commerce Center 18 in North Brunswick. We managed to turn up late for the 2.20pm show, thanks to my misreading GPS instructions and consequently missing turns at two consecutive points (it was my first day after all) but luckily made it with enough time in hand for the 2.55 pm (which thank goodness, also offered low ticket prices at $8 each).

'Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi' being a Hindi film, one can make a good guess at the nature of the audience that day. They turned up in true desi style, late, the fat people armed with more fat (disguised as popcorn and colas) treading on exposed toes at the last moment and sharing the most eventful details of their rock-star lives into the opening credits for a good 5-7 mins. Until King Khan appeared. Then there was pindrop silence. As if someone had just silently ordered everyone to stand at attention.

It was a totally-feel-good knockout slick commercial package that clicked. Quality acting, excellent Salim-Suleiman music, a fresh female face with a figure-to-die-for and that surpassed by her being a miracle of a model who could act and act well too, at that. Kajol (a classic, gasp, wow, with still that figure !)-Bipasha (understated and charming)-Lara (sultry seductress)- Preity (pretty-as-a-picture)-Rani (disco diva) guest appearances, witty dialogues, a strong sidekick in the form of Vinay Pathak (capitalising on the critical appreciation of 'Dasvidaniyan') bringing the house down with a paisa vasool Bobby-the-faithful-hairdresser-friend-with-outrageous-hair-and-role, colourful cinematography and a simple plot with excellent handling did wonders for us all. Down to the toddler who insisted on changing his seat at the climax and forcing his poor harassed father to sit on the stairs between the aisles and watch the last few minutes there with him. The four of us (esp Moumita and I) laughed helplessly throughout and I cried twice, which means that it was a hit for me, at least. That included crying at the sight of the Golden Temple and the beautiful natural landscapes of Punjab, which all of a sudden aroused an intense sense of nostalgia within me. If it wasn't due to Moumita's wonderful collection of snacks (including a deliciously fluffy homemade cake and scrumptious kima patties), I might have been a soggy heap of tissues at the end of the day. However I cheered up enough to negotiate GPS directions more successfully this time, reach home by 8pm and turn in by 11 pm after watching the rest of 'Dhonyi Meye', which proved great fun. K had enjoyed it enough to voluntarily call up Sushmit and give him his impression of the entire experience. We are already making plans for a Christmas excursion with the Maitis. The only unpleasant part was K's persistent complaints of feverishness, which did actually result in his feeling queasy enough to work from home half of Mon and the entire Tue.

P.S : This is for the dance-challenged, who like me, just can't get enough of the song 'Dance Pe Chance'. With lyrics like these (and a dance instructor like Anoushka for the guys), we too might possibly have the chance to achieve stardom !

Ammunition

No, this is not about terrorist attacks in Mumbai. It's about my fortifying my wardrobe with suitable stuff to ward off the winter. K teasingly calls me a 'guti poka' during this season. For the non-Bangalis, that translates as the silkworm, a street-smart insect species which retreats into hibernation during unfavorable points and emerges much later, when the scenario looks better and less bleak. This is the coat in which I've already braved an entire evening of persistent snowfall on Saturday and thanks to it, actually managed to find the whole experience enjoyable !

Weekend hangover

K greeted Fri evening with a heartfelt "TGIF" ! I amended that to TGIFF. Thank God It's Finally Friday. Can't really blame either of us for feeling that way. For him, it's been an exceptionally long week due to not the number of hours he's been putting in at his Piscataway office, but the sheer intensity of the work itself plus all the stress and anxiety that come as an unwonted package deal with it. As for me, spending most of my waking hours at home (and in the virtual world), I can't distinguish most week days from each other, except a Mon by K's long groans and moans prior to slipping on his formal shoes and Fri by the smile that replaces his usually nonchalant expression, a smile that broadens remarkably as the weekend approaches and starts waning predictably, Sun evening onwards.


K's office registered an unpleasant aberration from its usually monotonous routine this week. He came hom early on Tue afternoon, explaining that there had been a leak in their water pipes at Boundbrook. That ended up in a massive shortage of drinking and running water, necessitating that their canteen be shut down too. I was glad about the unexpected company at home (to think I'm saying this about my own husband gives an idea of how lonely I must usually feel at home) and made the most of it of course in terms of well, you know. Shouldn't have to elaborate on everything in life. One should a little leave something to the reader's imagination as well ! LOL. Anyway, my good fortune proved to be quite shortlived (as usual). K was back at office next day although he had a hard time along with others, trying to cope with purchases of miniscule bottles of drinking water. For 8 hours. The HR hadn't bothered to email employees about the still unresolved water crisis. Needless to say, he went to school...er, office...armed with a huge water bottle the next day.


Dinner on Fri night (when we finally managed to find enough will power to resist inertia of rest) consisted of mix-and-match (K has inherited Mamoni's culinary genes after all, it seems !). The previous day's leftover rajma curry with that day's mixed veg khichuri and fish fries. Dinner was fun as we ate while watching 'Ratatouille'. I'd somehow never managed to get around to watching it earlier on. Quality animation and novelty of storyline plus lots of witty dialogues. A combination that defintely worked for us. I was logged on to Skype and thought I'd heard a missed call. It was from Rony. Tried to call back but he seemed to be offline after that. Caused a bit of confusion as I couldn't make out whether it had been a test call or a missed one.


Saturday saw the Mukherjees (us, silly) getting up at dawn (9 am) and eating the shortcut breakfast. Soup and toast. Soup sounded fancy, 'chicken with wild long grained rice'. Tasted just about ok. Experimentation doesn't always work, I realised ruefully. Breakfast over, I went for a bath while K called home. We had missed the 1st wedding anniversary celebrations of Titai & Abir, my nonod and nondai although we did call up to wish them on 21st Nov, the red letter day. But somehow, hearing lots of cheerful voices in the background coupled with the info that Mamoni-Bapi were there besides several of the couple's relatives and friends alongside Rimjhim and quite a few other of Abir's actor colleagues from the mega-serial 'Khnuje Byarai Kachher Manush' while we were missing out on all the fun hadn't done much to console us for our stay here. Talking to Mamoni and Bapi somehow partly made up for all that as they were unusually eloquent (especially Bapi) and managed to provide a lot of fun bits & pieces and scatter considerable local colour on the persons concerned. Titai was elated at her anniversary gift from Abir, a pair of diamond earrings (especially as she had demanded it as a reward for tolerating his persistent presence for a whole year) and Abir proved to be quite satisfied with his gifts too, a watch and a pair of branded trackpants. Mamoni and Bapi had proved quite uneventful and predictable in their choice of gifts, clothes (Titai's candour will definitely be her undoing some day, LOL). Bapi had been quite upset at Mamoni's not wearing the costume jewellery he had got her on their anniversary to Abir-Titai's party although she did don the Bomkai that had also been his tribute to their 31 years tempestuous years together. He finally relented when she showed him that pink jewellery did not go with a maroon saree (I thought Bapi had already conceded before family members that the light in the saree cum jewellery showroom hadn't been strong enough to distinguish nuances of colour) and so they had better let the matter rest. Abir had decked up at the party in Rimjhim's gift, a nagra, and Ma-Baba's gift to him (which had been part of our post-marriage pujor totwo) this year pujo, a white panjabi.



Anyway, after that, it was time for our round of groceries. The fridge had worn a very miserable look for the last week or so as we had exhausted our stock of 'fresh' as well as frozen vegetables and had been living off rajma, pindi chana, various types of pulses and lentils and soyabean for the last week. Witness to K coming home after a hectic day at work and looking too tired to take the car (and me) out again after that, I didn't have the heart to push him too hard. This time though, we didn't buy too many veggies and fruits since we would be leaving for Atlanta early Thu morning and so it would be rather a waste of time and energy at the moment. So we just bought relatively reduced quantities of most of the usual stuff like soup, granola bars, garlic bread, cookies, juice, bread buns, chicken, cheese etc. In fact, we did buy a couple of new things this time instead. That includes a jar of honey mustard dressing, a packet of vegetable chips, a large pack of chicken patties (for sandwiches) and a box of blueberry muffins. There was also a packet of pre-cooked shrimp this time for Madhav, K's colleague, whom we had invited to dinner the next day, disguising it as his unofficial 'aiburobhaat'. Poor fellow, he's soon to be a martyr to the cause of marriage. So you are allowed to interpret this as our attempt to cheer him up on the (un)happy occasion and prepare him for the prodigious quantities of food he would in any case have to be mentally prepared to consume at all occasions appertaining thereunto, back in India.



The major part of the next day was spent cooking. The menu planned ran thus : Fried rice, paneer butter masala, chicken masala, chingri malai curry, tomato-raisin-cranberry chutney. K plumped for the shrimp and fried rice while I decided to do the rest. Inviting guests over is certainly fun, but it's a lot of hard work too over here, since the whole process includes doing the dishes, cutting and washing the raw material, heating, cleaning the gas range and countertops before and after, marinating the chicken and shrimp, often recollecting the ingredients we've run out of and making a quick sortie to salvage the situation etc - steps that are usually excluded back home where the division of labour always makes entertaining easier and less onerous here. This time, there was an unusual setback in the form of the hot water taps running dry. Although maintenance was already working to resolve the issue, we didn't have the time to wait for them, which meant a repeated heating of water in the saucepan for various pre-cooking chores. In between, K managed a trip to the local Indian store to procure coconut milk and green chilli. He came back unusually elated, following his discovery of a newly introduced halal section functioning there on Fri, Sat and Sun. Men are such cannibals.


Despite the water issue, we managed to get everything done by 2.30 pm, after which I went to take a bath and prepare lunch. What with my gastric problem and a heavy dinner awaiting us that night, K and I agreed to lunch on soup and toast. We took a short nap and woke up around 6 pm. Madhav had to receive a friend at the airport, so he told K that he would be rather late and so, we had tea and muffins while watching 'A Big Fat Greek Wedding' , which I quite liked. It was a refreshing change from the usual Mills & Boon stuff that I'm generally attracted to most of the time. I can spend a lifetime just watching romantic comedies. I don't think I'll ever have enough of them.


Madhav arrived just as we were getting involved in the second film, 'Monster-In-Law'. J-Lo is so sweet. It was getting late in any case and past 9 pm. Since Madhav was absolutely adamant about not having any snacks, we headed straight for dinner. It was a fun affair, though the usual messy one, with newspapers spread out on the carpet and the aluminium foil trays laid out in the middle for easy access while we sat around them and ate buffet-style. I was relieved that Madhav took to all the dishes and had second helpings of most and even a third helping of rice. I'd been a bit apprehensive about the paneer as it was the first time I'd made this dish and wasn't sure that I'd got the masala : paneer ratio right at the end. Thankfully it tasted delicious. K's malai curry was evidently a hit as Madhav even asked for its recipe. Shob miliye amader mukh roilo, in short. It was a bit tough for Madhav to sit on the comforter and eat as he seems to have a knee ligament problem, but I tried to somewhat sort that out by fashioning him a makeshift table out of the box in which we'd bought our floor lamp. The oven is really turning out to be a great help in terms of heating food like chicken and rice, especially as we still haven't got ourselves a microwave. Quite a few people tell me that an oven is actually better than a microwave when it comes to heating food but I guess I'm not experienced enough to judge that for myself yet.


We all had diet pepsi to wash down the dinner and Madhav left soon after, since he had a lot of packing to do before he left for India but very little time to do it in, the next two days being weekdays and therefore necessitating that a whole lot of time be spent at office. We've promised to host a welcome party for Silpa and him, after their post-marriage return to USA. I'm quite looking forward to meeting her, especially (despite K's disgust at my Linda Goodman phases) as she happens to be a Gemini. Till then, so long.

Shopping and Ethics

Backlogs scare me, especially as they are second nature to me when it comes to things which I'm passionate about and yet have managed to neglect completing. I keep on coming up with all these silly defences, like one needs distance to gain perspective, in the spirit of Wordsworth's 'emotions recollected in tranquility'. Unfortunately, too much of tranquility doesn't seem to leave me with any emotion at all. LOL.

We watched 'Quantum of Solace' last Saturday and I must admit, it was definitely more than a mere quantum of solace on a very rainy Saturday, when the only other consolations were a lunch consisting of paneer paratha (yippee) and my latest creation, a chicken korma (well, it was described as a 'mild chicken korma' in the net recipe, but I don't think that sounds very gastronomically tantalising, so I'd leave the mildness out) besides a round of shopping at Walmart, seeking a gift for a not-even-a-month old baby (Siddhant, of course).

Shopping first, I think. Apart from bread and desserts (which I'm perpetually mystified as to how we manage to consume so much so fast), there were two important things on our mind this time, trackpants for K (thanks to our extreme show of torpor which explains the monthly visit to the laundry) and a befitting present for baby Sid, my latest preoccupation (I so need a child of my own). The first was hard enough to locate since we wanted low prices and tasteful designs (in a trackpant?...I know, I know...but...er...that's so me) and flannel, so it took quite a bit of time. Turns out that buying gifts for children is a challenge. I mean, you have to know exactly what you want, otherwise there's too much variety out there for the not-so-ingenious (and the not-so-patient, by which I defintely mean K) to get anything at all at the end of the day...er...search. I don't recall so many options when we were children ourselves. Well ok, that was some twenty odd years back but children still are children aren't they? How much change could they possibly have undergone in just two decades.

A hell of a lot, it seems. My jaws dropped at the sight of the huge space and several aisles that were devoted to children at the W. Toys, games, board games, books, cards, dolls, rides, gadgets, musical paraphernalia...wow. K seemed literally dumbfounded (not that it's hard to say that about him on most occasions) and was all in favour of coming back another day, especially since Moumita called to say they were running late and to ask whether it would be possible for us to get the movie tickets. I voiced a vehement no.I don't think I could have taken the trouble of patiently exploring each and every single one of all those aisles and after that, lived to face an empty-handed me. Well, you may naturally ask, since there were so many options, what was the problem. Aha. That was the problem. Too many choices and two clueless adults. There seemed to be so much for children but not much for babies (obviously it had to be that way, since that was what we were looking for in particular). And certainly not for babies less than 6 months old. Hello? What are they supposed to be, non-human? I suppose the manufacturers think that the only things that would suit them are clothes and adult-chosen toys. Don't even ask what we ultimately bought. (It's a surprise in any case for the Baby, so hold your breath till post-Thanksgiving,will you ?) Just a hint. Something that K seems to want to be allowed to play with, too. I know I would so love the expressions on your faces if I could see them !

Now for 'James Bond'. I know that that's not really the name of the movie, but several people at the Reading Cinemas ticket counter seemed happy to think of it that way. Fortunately, the tickets were not very expensive. That would have triggered on dollops of guilt in me, I being the half of the Mukherjees that was extra-hyper about watching the film on the big screen. Well, it was definitely worth the hype (and the 400 odd rupees spent respectively). I am totally converted to Craigomania and over Brosnan (who looked a tad too flirtatious, I always thought). Olga whatever was a great performer too. I loved the action sequences especially the airborne one and the initial chase. The opening song was slightly misleading, I thought. It looked like Bond was going to be The Man in a film where all the heroes, villains etc consisted of solely women and the action sequences were all likely to take place in bed. And the principal issue, the question of the ethics of revenge, made me very happy. It called back memories of all the ecstatic hours I'd spent in JUDE days, contemplating Hamlet. For the forgetful many, I reproduce the classic soliloquy :

To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.


(Act III, Scene 1)

Of course, it always seems to be easier to preach than to practise. But with time and determination, I have learned not to hold malice.I am not saying I forget, I only forgive. And the most important thing here is to remember that revenge destroys you as much as it would the potential victim. It's not important who started it all. It's so much more meaningful to be the magnanimous one who learns a lesson from the past and simply moves on. And lets go. You must exorcise your own demons at the end of the day. For as Hamlet saw it, murdering the murderer would be akin to stooping to the murderer's own level. Therefore, he simply could not initiate action until Laertes had dealt him the death blow. Being attacked, he could retaliate, knowing that Laertes and he forgave each other even as they died. But Claudius' death does remain controversial as the question of ethics still hold. A modern day Hamlet, Bond works at the Freudian cure, reliving his past and thus overcoming it. I'm glad I did watch the film. I'd been going through a traumatic experience myself and it kind of purged me of my hurt. I'm no longer in rewind mode.

K says I think too much. On this occasion, I think he would be glad I did since the results are so positive in nature. As for the person who tried to hurt me, his/her dwelling on the past while I live in the present is ample punishment. What say you?

Btw, here you will find a simple and sensible essay on the theme of revenge in Hamlet, for those interested.

Daylight saving causes confusion !

Daylight saving was supposed to end on Nov 2,2008. I forgot as usual and woke up, extremely perplexed yesterday morning to find my alarm ringing at 8.30 am when I could have sworn I had set it for 9.30 am. Any sharp sound in the morning wakes me up promptly, so it was no use trying to get back to sleep. The damage had been done, I thought. So I grumpily left a very loudly and peacefully snoring K hidden in the depths of the comforter and went to complete my daily bathroom rituals. Preparations for tea and breakfast complete, I was bugged to find that K showed no signs of stirring. Not intending to do double duty for breakfast on a Sunday morning, I tried to make myself (well, 'my muscles' would be a more precise choice of words perhaps) useful by doing some pranayam and freehand exercises. Meanwhile, the grumblings and growlings in my stomach seemed to be getting louder and more insistent although I tried my best to ignore them. I finally decided I had had enough of a patient wait and would at least make tea for myself so that I could have a couple of biscuits at least in order to survive. Playing somewhere at the back of my mind, I secretly have often thought, may also be the fear of reactivating my gastric ulcer symptoms, which landed me in a horrible predicament during my H.S. exams, way back in 2000, but scared me sufficiently to make me never venture out of my home post-that-mishap without at least a small pack of biscuits in my handbag.

Anyways, I had just let the milk boil and was a bit preoccupied with putting sandwich buns to toast in the oven when the sound of blinds being raised made me realise that K had finally had the mercy to wake up and I could now eat. May he snore in peace forever. I took a quick glance at the battery operated alarm clock we had brought from India and noted that it was 11.30 am. Hello, I thought startled, hadn't I seen the wristwatch showing me 10.30 am? I checked and found that my eyes were functioning properly after all. Flummoxed, I pondered. And then realised that it was 2nd Nov today !

Tanima and I have displayed extreme dullness of comprehension by not being able to master the concept of daylight savings, Rony and K assure us. However, I've luckily managed to locate a site or two that is more enlightening in its explanation of the event compared to their obscure outlines of this unnatural state of affairs. Here they are :

http://aa.usno.navy.mil/faq/docs/daylight_time.php

http://geography.about.com/cs/daylightsavings/a/dst.htm

However, if you are more concerned and curious about how the process of setting clocks ahead of the usual time in summer and putting them back in winter affects the difference in time throughout the rest of the world, I refer you to the following link, which is comprehensive in its data line-up :

http://www.worldtimezone.com/daylight.html

And if my understanding wasn't poor enough already, I had a tough time elaborately enlightening my much-more-obtuse-family-members regarding this whole abstract (to me, for sure !) concept. It all runs in the genes, I suppose. To think that I was supposed to be 'intelligent' when I was young. Sigh !!!

Mixed Bag

So Siddhant is into his third day on earth and his parents are, I suppose, slowly comprehending the extent and gravity of their responsibility now. Debarati and I are seriously coming around to the idea of becoming mothers sooner or later some day. We are more concerned about whether our respective husbands are ready to shoulder such responsibility, burdened as they are with work and sleepless nights and liable to turn irritable at the slightest domestic provocation. Not that we're complaining. If we don't understand them, who will ? But what troubles us more about them is whether they are in any position to be shouldering any more worries, baby related and all. K openly admits that anything pregnancy-related makes him feel queasy and although I initially found that material for considerable hilarity, the fact that he may seriously feel that way doesn't exactly bode confidence for the future. I only hope seeing the way Sushmit-Namita are handling their parenthood inspires more respect in him for the role that parents fulfil and reduces his trepidation at assuming a similar status in the not-so-distant-future.

Meanwhile, we have received the second batch of photos from the 'thrilled and proud parents' (to quote them verbatim) and the accompanying updates too over the phone. Baby Sid is not very pleased, it seems, at the excretory operations that the body must regularly perform and announces the fact quite vociferously each time he has to participate in the painful process. Ah, if only he knew that this is nothing compared to what greater obstacles life holds in store for us humans, he would be a happier man. But I certainly (and to my intense perplexity !)prevaricate. Let him become a child first, then ...er well, ok, much later perhaps...we may broach the topic of maturing into manhood etc.

Tanima and I have been discussing the Baby in Our Lives and have arrived at the consensus that He is likely to do us all proud, what with sporting so much hair at birth (apparently the proud parents did not have much of the same at their respective births and hence, feel justifiably relieved at their offspring's accomplishment) and displaying such a prominently aquiline nose (remarkable indeed for a newborn baby) so early in life. I personally think that there isn't much he could do to not blossom into a good-looking chap, with such a handsome father and a petite and pretty mother handing down some real genetic goodies. My only hope is that he turns out to be a lean-and-not-so-mean hunk with a heart as golden as that of his family and on a slightly divergent note, doesn't have our tendency to gain weight at the slightest and sweetest provocation.

Halloween was a big flopshow yesterday. K was in a flurry to purchase some candy yesterday evening at RiteAid nearby to satisfy the trick-or-treat demands of the children in our complex but none turned up. Probably because they supposed we wouldn't understand the significance of their festival. We spotted quite a few of them across the road from Rite Aid, dressed in some grotesque costumes (sorry, I for one can't conjure up any more apt epithet for the same) like that of a bumble-bee and a butterfly and more appropriately (I hope that's the right word in this context), masks of devils and ghouls and nasty other synonyms that escape my memory (thank goodness) at present. We bought a cask of orange-pineapple flavoured coolers and a bottle of mojito at a discount store nearby to cheer us up on such a cold Friday night and to console us on the inability to celebrate Diwali this year, owing to particularly inclement weather. A father appeared while we were there with two tiny children, attired in disproportionately huge wigs in bizarre shades of orange and soot black. I was considerably entertained at the sight of such small children at a liquor store, but thankfully, it seems, they were out on their regulation halloween outing and promptly demanded 'lowwippops' of the Indian lady manning (?!) the counter. They were rewarded with chocolates. Their father had to assure them that they had got a better deal than they had expected, not that the children themselves seemed very convinced of that at the end. By the way, I must confess extreme annoyance at the way a couple of young Indian men ogled at me while I stood by the counter and K had gone to get the mojito. I know it might not be very natural in our country to see women in a liquor store and their behaviour could and perhaps should be excused on that account itself. All the same, it is rather an affront to notice men staring open-mouthed (literally), when they can quite make out that you are not happy at their attitude and would rather be overlooked. I have never learned till date to take any form of gazing at me as a compliment in any way. I'm sure many other women also feel the same way.

This afternoon, we undertook a trip to the Manville Walmart in our new car. K did me proud by driving quite competently despite the entirely different system of driving we have had to get used to here. We had to get some gas near East Main Street and were disgusted to discover the amount we had lavished on cab fares ever since our arrival here, especially after we had calculated the gallons of gas we could have bought at that amount. Well, better late than never. Walmart was crowded as usual on a weekend day, particularly as the weather was quite clear and pleasant. Besides the usual necessities like bread and milk, we shopped for car accessories this time, which was definitely a novelty for me. Car deo, car sponge, ice scraper, wet wipes...wow, we do love our car ! Also discovered potpourri in some interesting fragrances like mulberry, hazelnut cream and apple-cinnamon. The latter was a bit overwhelming and the hazelnut one was rejected on grounds of our common failure to appreciate the thought of our bathroom smelling like a Dunkin-Donuts outlet. The usual and expected confusion took place at the cosmetics section where purchasing a cold cream turned out to be a major headache for formerly mentioned reasons (the monstrous variety, for those who suffer from amnesia like me) and locating a simple pair of socks engendered considerable mirth (since I eventually purchase two pairs in light and deep blue and in material that resembled the feel of a soft toy more than it did any form of cotton or wool). A navy blue tweed skirt on sale was the unexpected additional purchase, more so for the simple reason that it actually did fit my paunch and looked good too (the two rarely go hand-in-hand, in my case).

We had a wonderful but rather belated lunch of ghee-bhaat with daal, alusheddho and deembhaaja at 4 pm. Well, in retrospect, it might not have been that late, considering that we had had breakfast at 10.30 am...

My Mundane Moves...

The rain continues. And so does the pain. Neither can I attend office nor can I participate in any other productive activity. Tell me, now that India has won the World Twenty 20, what do I get as a reward for that knowledge? Nothing. So then.

It has been raining cats and dogs for the past 3 days and I’m sick of it all. Star Ananda and NDTV air reports to the effect that the myth of the area I live in never getting water logged has been shattered, but all the same, some people don’t seem to believe me. That I’m bored and tired of being cooped up at home. That I haven’t been able to get much pujo shopping done nor go catch the latest movie at the nearest multiplex. That I hate a life where I even have to go work on Saturdays and Sundays. That my poor K is sorely missing me because of my non-existent weekends. That one’s life is not equivalent to one’s professional life.

It’s true that I enjoy my work. And that I actually look forward to going to office. So much so that I overlook the dreary journey to office everyday…not getting the desired bus or shuttle, the incessant traffic jams, the waterlogged streets, the mud and slush on rainy days, the standing all the way when you’ve had the misfortune of boarding an overcrowded bus, the disgusted look on my parents’ face when I return home on Sat evening at 7.30 pm, feeling totally unsocial and undone. If only people realized that and empathized. But I guess it’s too much to ask for. Some people are just not satisfied with anything that you do.

Is it then a vicious circle? Sometimes I’m so tired, I just want to give up. And go home to K.