Yearning

It comes at you suddenly. A bolt of lightning out of the blue that shatters your foundation. A hook that flies out of the pages of your memory - pierces your thoughts so deeply that you are frozen by the pain of it. These hooks are hanging always just outside your consciousness, like a curtain of snakes floating and drifting.
A song, a photo, a picture, a name, an utterance, an action, a gesture, a new smile that reminds you of an old - one of these will call a snake to life. You'd feel its fang sinking into your mind.
Immediately, a tornado of yearning engulfs you. Completely. A yearning for something that is a nanometer out of your reach. A yearning so powerful that you're left gasping for life.
That yearning is for the most bittersweet of them all....'what might have been'. For that friend lost in time. For that love that slipped away. For that question never asked. For that answer never given. For that voice never raised. For that pain never soothed...
This yearning shall twist you, toss you and turn you. But it won't take you unless you ask it to. It shall be a brief storm that shall pass. Enjoy the torment while it lasts but ground  yourself firmly when it ends.
This yearning proves that you've lived. It keeps you awake. It keeps you alive.

On a shadowy night

the fog has blanketed the world outside
secrets, spirits what else does it hide?
a purple light slowly twinkles afar
not a mystery, only a christmas star
a sigh is heaved, my heart disappointed
it needs a mystery on a night so haunted
been at my window these hours past
wishfully willing a mystery to start
if real world's shadows do not bring one
it's to imagination's shadows I must turn.

O Canada!

[Apologetic note on showing no love to my poor little blog for 2 years goes here]

I take up my pen laptop once again to take you with me down memory lane while I re-live a great trip. 'Twas a happy week I spent fulfilling my dream of visiting Prince Edward Island, Canada.

Yes, I was part of the group of million little girls who fell in love with Prince Edward Island because L.M.Montgomery taught us to do so via her Anne books. And finally, I was there in person! Here's the story of what happened:
It was a relaxed start on a Saturday night flight to Halifax (the closest cheap airport to PEI). However, about 40 minutes before landing, the pilot scared us by saying the due to the fog and the ensuing poor visibility, they might re-route the flight to Bangor, Maine (The last place on earth I wanted to be. Not that I had anything against it) While I was crossing all the fingers I had, happily no such disaster occurred. Thanking my lucky stars I set foot in Halifax. And in a short while at the rental car place, I had occasion to thank the same lucky stars with a big whoop when I set my eyes on the Chevy Camaro that had been given us. Color me materialistic but there it was - sitting black and beautiful and delighting me. Bless you, Thrifty!

We zoomed on to PEI and stopped at this place called Gateway Village - aptly named as it lies at the gateway at the end of the 13 KM bridge into the island. I expected to see Anne at the island and I did - at Anne of Green Gables Chocolates store. I guess Anne books are the most important claim to fame  for the island and they were going to milk it for all that it's worth!

It was a late evening when we reached the B&B and we spent it at a nearby beach called Brackley. PEI is known for its red soil - this beach was no exception. The beach sand had thousands of red stones mingled with it.

Stone castles at Brackley Beach

Get the joke?

Next day - the best day ever - was Green Gables day. A little history (skip to the pic if not interested/you already knew): Green Gables was a house owned by relatives of LM Montgomery, whose Anne of Green Gables series of books are part of classic literature. The author based the books on the house and its surroundings. She was a very descriptive writer so the island and its people become very real to the readers. I had lived in PEI through her books when I read them. And now, I got to see the actual Green Gables house, the actual Haunted Woods and the actual Lover's Lane. Oh, to be walking the same paths where I imagined Anne walking! For those of you not familiar with the books, this was like Disneyland without the ridiculous amount of people, dollars and wait times.

Green Gables

Haunted Woods

Lover's Lane

Next stop was Cavendish beach which had stunning red stone cliffs. 

The ruddy cliffs

With the elements

On the way back, by a very lucky chance, we happened upon a group of people waiting in line for a Ceilidh (pronounced kay-lee) - an Irish and Scottish music and dance party. If you are ever in PEI, do not miss one of these. Ours was performed by the Ross Family - a very talented brother-sisters trio who along with their mom had the crowd tapping along to their lilting music. A fantastic end to a fantastic day.

The next day, I attended a musical - Anne of Green Gables, the Musical (what else, right?). Well, the best thing I can say is they had some good parts. Anne herself was a really huge disappointment. If you've read the books you know that Anne is a very high-spirited, talkative girl with a love for long words and wild imagination. And Anne always took herself seriously, very solemnly. The actress who played her had zero imagination and played Anne as a comical child who screams and scampers around. She was high-pitched not high-spirited. Jittery, not solemn. The saving graces were the few musical numbers which kept me not too irritated.

Phew, that rant felt good. I can't believe I've taken up so much space with just 2 days of stories. And we spent an entire week there! I'll wait till you refill your coffee for the five more days' worth stories.

Most of the the Islanders are a really nice, friendly bunch of people (now don't be all cynical and say that since tourism is a main business they can't afford to be un-friendly. Let's not forget the New Yorkers.) Wherever we went, there were people willing to talk to us about local history, direct us to favorites and haunts and always curious to know who we are from. When we visited the eastern part of the island the next day, thanks to some of these friendly folks, we visited an artist at his store where he let our 6-year-old make his own sea-glass necklace, had an excellent breakfast featuring the famous PEI potatoes, visited a 148-year-old lighthouse and saw and heard the Singing Sands ("more of squeaking sands", as the lady said) at Basin Head beach.

East Point Lighthouse

Bridge Jumping at Basin Head

The Basin Head beach was interesting because the sands there make a sort of squeaking rustling sound when you drag your foot on them. And it also had this bridge spanning the boardwalk from which strong swimmers were jumping into the swift deep waters below, get dragged by the current into a sort of natural pool formation.

PEI is a very beautiful island. And I believe summer time was the best time to visit since it was an amazing visual treat to see the contrasting island colors - the red soil, the varying shade of green crops, the blue sea, the yellow and purple wildflowers filling the meadows, dark and light clouds sailing in the blue sky. Nature was at her very best and her human creations hadn't dared to disrupt much of her canvas. 

I will leave you now with a few pitifully inadequate images of the island that I was able to capture. In my next post, I'll tell you all about the rest of the trip where we dipped our toes in a deliciously named river, went back in time, delighted in yet more samples of nature's hand at work and saw an interesting phenomenon that can't be seen anywhere else but there. 

The Voices

A thousand little voices screeching in my head

Jostling with each other to be the first heard

Angry and happy, sweet and snapping

Melodious screams, all overlapping

The stronger ones come to the fore

And claim my tongue, as their own

Oh you think I put them there?

These little voices that trill and tear?

Believe me, it be true, I can only watch

Helpless, they come out as I talk

Sometimes I don't want one but the other

Alas, the ones I need somehow disappear

What choice have I then but to succumb

Yet wish upon wish were I dumb

'Cause even when I hear them uttered

All I want is keep them shuttered.

Crushed crush

You know how back in school you used to have crushes on older girls (or boys if you were a boy)? A hero-worshippy, non-homosexual sort of crush? Does it ever stop at school level you think? For me, it persists. There are two girls at my workplace whom I secretly adore, from a distance. First one is a smart looking girl with close cropped hair and a pleasant and open face. For her I have only adoration. The other is a graceful girl with a long willowy form, beautifully shaped long hair and pleasant voice. For her, though, my adoration is slightly tinged with jealousy. And precisely because of that slight tinge that I'm glad of the thing that happened.

Why are these american bathroom stalls devoid of any privacy? No I'm not digressing. You'll see the connection in a tiny little while. Back to my question. Why again? There's enough space between the divider and the floor that you can even crawl from one to another. A bathroom is the most private place a person could be. Tell it to these people and they scoff and say 'Privacy Schmivacy'!

So one day, I'm taking my break (you do understand euphemisms, don't you?), when I hear noises from the adjacent stall. You know, the usual noises which accompany a person who is answering nature's call - all of them. The entire concert was played for my benefit. You can't help but hear them in the dead silence of an office restroom. If given an option, I would've stopped my ears but that was just not to be. So I quickly make my exit and was shocked to see my crush number two (number two ha ha ha) egress from the adjacent stall. I could hear a tiny 'poof' - the rosy glow of my crush vanishing against the harsh sounds that were still fresh in my mind.

Now I have only one wish for the future - that my smart cookie and I do not decide to answer nature's call at the same time.

"Just Google It"

Most questions these days seem to have one answer - 'just google it'. Really? 


Time and again I have had this said to me by my peers. It is a teensy bit insulting.  I am as Gen Y as you and do you, my peer, really think that I wait for your directive to 'google it' when I want to find information on something? I'm a programmer for pete's sake! How else do you think I survive, if I didn't know 'to google it'? 


So why I do ask you a question that can just as easily be 'googled' or 'wikied'? Because I want _your_ answer. The personal touch. Its my way of connecting with you. Because this too-connected world helps me to stay connectedly disconnected, this is my way of reaching out to feel the human. I want the little tete-a-tete again. And you know what, I don't mind waiting to hear from you. 


And why would I wait days when 'googling' can give me the answer in mere nanoseconds? I'll tell you - with an example. Once, a friend sent a list of new dishes and suggested that I pick one and make it for a party. I asked her to explain the dishes to me 'the next time we meet'. And her reply was 'google it'. And she didn't stop there - she googled and sent the answers to me! 
I refused to read it and told her I'll wait to hear about them when I met her next (because we were meeting soon anyway). And the time when we did meet, she did explain the dishes - accompanied with her trademark expressive gestures, smiles and josh. And we built up a conversation from that. Now tell me, which impersonal, one-way street google result can ever beat that? 


So next time I ask you something, do not, I repeat, do NOT tell me to google it. (I'll ask nicely) Please? 

The Puzzle

It's what Life is. A puzzle. A puzzle that is constantly rearranging.

Every single being who touches your life in some way makes up their own individual little piece. Every single look, every single touch, every single word, everything that matters - every little thing becomes a tiny piece of the puzzle. And that piece is constant. It is always what it is. No other piece can come and take its place. There may be other similar pieces. There may be complimentary pieces. And new pieces are added, when new people are met, new relations are forged, new paths are taken and new lives are created, each piece finds its own niche. It will disturb the other pieces, they will be disturbed, rearranged. This puzzle is not a constant, only the pieces are. And even when millions of new pieces get added, every little one always holds its own. And if it is lost, a part goes out of your puzzle forever. A puzzle shaped blank is created in your universe. Where that piece was, now you stare at nothingness.

Is your puzzle complete? Where have your missing pieces gone?

Sleeping with soap

You wake up in bed and find a piece of dried-up soap under your sheets.

You open the kitchen cabinet and find a toy sheep staring right back at you.

You sweep under the sofa and find four tiny cars.

You go out to the balcony and find a CD case lying for who-knows-how-long in the rain and shine.

You sit on the sofa to be poked by a ball on the cushion or by a spoon wedged between the cushions.

Your bathtub is filled with crayon drawings.

Your patience is tried to the utmost with blatant disobedience.

Your knowledge is put to the test with never ending questions of "what is this?".

You find yourself laughing silly at the crazy songs and dialogs that will be made up.

And if you have a blog, you almost never finish up a post, because you're constantly being interrupted with shrill summons.

Yes. That's what life is, with a two-year-old.

Tripping up the Hills

A few years ago, I had been to the Kallakkad - Mundanthurai tiger reserve and spent a very enjoyable time there.An interest on my part to share the beauties of the place with Hubs and a shortage of time (isn't that always the case?) led us to plan to spend a couple of days at the reserve - more specifically, at this place called Kudhiraivetti.

With directions from Google Maps and numerous people on the road, we reached the foot of the Manjolai Hills, atop which Kudhiraivetti is nestled. The Reserve sprawls over these hills and can be reached two ways - from Papanaasam and from Kallidaikurichi and onto Manjolai. The Papanaasam route is much more eventful, with many falls on the way. But we picked the latter, since we wanted to see Manjolai.

Early morning start

The Reserve is a protected area (read: Red tape) and requires prior permission to visit or stay. We had obtained the permission from Forest dept. We now reached the check post near the Manimutharu Dam where they check if you have really obtained the permission (word of caution: be sure to pay any fees in exact change here. Any change remaining may be kept back as 'tips' ).

Manimuthaaru Dam

Since we had picked July to visit the place, we had to brave the elements to sightsee. First stop was Manimutharu Falls. Here a chain is tied across the bridge over the river, barring your path. A shameless beggar in a forest ranger uniform demands bribe from you here to open the chain. Whatever the season be, apparently we have to brave the pitiful humans too. Passing him with disgust, we also passed by the chance to bathe in the falls since it was raining and also windy, and went on driving up.

Manimuthaaru Falls

A word of caution here. If you are planning to make a trip to the same place, before you start check your car. If it's a compact car like our Chevy Spark, stop right there. Because a few kilometers after the Falls, the roads become extremely pothole-y. We had a tough time with the little Spark! You need a rugged beast of a four wheeler to navigate those roads.

The Bison that posed for us

Another thing to remember is to never ask the locals on those mountain roads the distance to a certain place unless you wish to have hopelessly inaccurate data. Rule of thumb is multiply the number by three to get the approximate distance.

Beautiful Hills and Beastly roads

There is a place called Naalu mukku after the main Manjolai town(?) which literally feeds the guests at Kudhiraivetti. We had to buy supplies for dinner here and carry it up with us.

Nallumukku Postoffice

Village of Naalumukku. Notice the loaded sacks atop each roof - to prevent it flying away!

A branch from Naalu mukku took us to the Kodhaiyar Dam. This place was mist-ifyin to us. No really. It was so completely covered with mists that we might as well have tried to see through clouds. And to think that we had actually spun stories to the forest ranger at the gate to the Dam about a fictional uncle in the Department to make him let us through, to be completely fogged up in the end! But then, for about 10 seconds there was a break in the mist which enabled us to see the beautiful Upper and the Lower Kodhaiyar Dams.

At Kodhaiyar Dam

To strike a balance, the roads were trying hard to cancel out the feelings of joy at the wonderful scenery surrounding us. Imagine our feelings when we heard from a local that the approach to Kudhiraivetti was much worse than this road!
With sinking hearts, we took the road up and found that he had not erred. After a shaky journey, we reached the destination. The place was as beautiful as I remembered and winds were as strong too!

The Kudhiraivetti Watchtower

View from the tower

Finding our compact room ready we thankfully stretched our limbs for a while before heading out to sight-see. Happy we were, for immediately we saw a lone tusker ambling along the hill-face some distance from us.

The pachyderm's picture

After he disappeared down, we found that there wasn't much else to see because again the mist had beat us there first! Next best thing to do was to go to bed.
Next day, all refreshed and ready to tackle the road we went straight down to the Falls for the morning bath. But sadly (for us) it was crowded with tourists so we went elsewhere in search of a peaceful place. Since we were familiar with the area, we went straight down and out of the Reserve and reached a village called Munnirpallam which lies on the banks of Tamirabarani where we could take a dip in the river in peace. After a leisurely and fun-filled wallowing, we started homeward taking with us bittersweet memories.

On the way back, I was wondering what could've made this trip less enjoyable than my first one. Then I hit on it - the first time we took the trip, my dad had taken care of the reservations, the driving and the general planning. My mom had taken care of the food side and the looking-after-the-family side. All I had to do was take/pose for pictures and revel in the wonderful scenery. Now I wonder how my mom enjoyed it then...

What's up Chennai?

Seriously. What is up with you, Chennai? You have changed. Changed much.

Your streets are choked up with an astounding number of vehicles. Your products and services are sending their prices skyward at a speed comparable with our GSLVs. Your residents are multiplying at an alarming rate. And your people...Oh, your people. What happened to them? Where are the friendly ones I used to know? Why is everybody in a foul mood?

The people of Chennai were never a laidback group. In a fast growing metropolis which is competing for attention and businesses at a national level, the people cannot be laid back. They have to be driven. They have to be smartworking. But they were never rude as a matter of fact. Some chivalry was always alive among the Chennaiites. Road rage was never this widespread. The societal values never hit such a low.

I was never hit intentionally by a motorist simply because I had no place to move and he thought I was blocking him, until now. I was never serviced by rude salespeople who couldn't care less if you did not buy a product, until now. I was never shocked with Chennai's notorious autodrivers' haphazard driving and shameless haggling, until now.

What caused this? Is this the payoff for 'Development'? Is this because there are too many people? A few months' stay in the US has taught me to 'blame it all on the immigrants'. Do I do that? Is it because of the immigrants - people who have moved to Chennai from elsewhere in the state and the nation? But, hasn't Chennai always been a potpourri of diverse cultures?

I'm still waiting for answers from you, Chennai. I'm bewildered and saddened at your change. I wish that all these were only a product of my feverish imagination.

A walk through yesterdays

They were swirling around her, blinding her. Memories built over the passage of years, shadows of days past. Torturing her, delighting her, paining her. She feels the familiar yearning - for the things that have flitted past, things that were never tangible, things that were never discerned when present but missed sorely once gone.

She walks slowly, unsteadily, makes baby steps. Faint shapes take life around her. The tree under which coffees were shared and drunk, the stairs echoing with the youthful laughter, every shape tugs at the heartstrings, every object makes the mind travel to the past with a speed unimaginable. Past - it was a time for the young. A time of joy hitherto unknown. A time of incredible power, a time of independence, a time when they thought they could change the world. A time when tender hearts were carelessly and cruelly treated.

And then comes the anger. At the unrelenting time. At the helplessness. The agony of change takes over. She feels like the dog straining against the leash. The leash of reality. But the leash holds on. And brings her back slowly. The swirling mist settles about. Now she sees the path ahead. She turns back to see that the memories have subsided - from huge misty monsters they have become bittersweet elvish creatures.

Tiny hands grab hold of hers and lead her forward. And she walks the uncertain path, where more memories await to be made.

New Home, New York

I think Singapore has spoiled me.

We interrupt this regularly scheduled blog for a Status Update: Have moved to the states and living in New York now.

Ok back to the story. We are all set to make a home in New York and have been spending the past few days soaking up the city.

If we had come straight from India, there is a chance that we would've admired many aspects of this city - the disciplined traffic, the subways, the clean streets, the Laundromats, the huge apartment blocks etc.

But coming from Singapore, we only find reasons to complain. Take the Subway for example. Number one complaint - they aren't clean enough. The stations are dirty and the tracks haven’t been cleaned in ages. The trains make this huge thundering noise we aren't used to and especially in the enclosed underground, it feels like the whole world is exploding. And what is with the elevators here? They are either absent from many stations or they take forever to travel from one level to another. When were they installed? 18th century?

And the trains themselves are supposed to be 'air conditioned' but all the air did was to make us sweat copiously! I think they forgot to turn the 'Summer' switch on and it's still stuck at 'Winter' position. How do those high powered career types who work in Manhattan manage to take this train and stay sweat-free?

Next on, the food. The first day here, we went for breakfast at a small diner. For a couple of omelets and orange juices (a small glass at that) we ended up paying about 25 bucks. Did we pick a wrong diner or is food that costly here? I was expecting about 10 dollars. To be fair, we did get toast and potatoes by the side and also the food in quantity was large. But still, it was a surprise that we had to fork out 25 bucks for breakfast!

Now that the complaints are outta the way, let’s go in for the good stuff. The streets of Manhattan - what a beautifully planned town this is! The perfect perpendiculars with the one diagonal streaking through. As the guide books say, it does make it easy to understand the layout of the town.

If you're a people-reader like me, you'll find greatest food for your interest - New York City has this eclectic mix of people of many races. At any place, you'll hear atleast four or five languages being spoken. And not just different languages, the English accents are a-plenty too!

Few unrelated things that struck me here were: One, the international brands that we were used to are now no longer international - they've become local! Two, I got to see in person what I have only hitherto read in PG Wodehouses, Mary Higgins Clarks, John Grishams and others.

So in all, my first impression of this city is a pot pourri of wonder, disgust and quiet happiness. And I’m all set to explore and experience more!

The Fussbudget

At the Induction Day speech of my first job, the company's vice president introduced us to a new (to me) concept - Customer Delight. He defined it as a step above the usual Customer Satisfaction.

Rather than a satisfied customer, a delighted customer brings in more business - naturally.

But sadly, even customer satisfaction seems to be pretty hard to find these days!! Customer need not be the king, but they aren't dirt either. What follows is a list of incidents where not even the S of the satisfaction was reached.

Incident 1:

A popular textile showroom in Usman Road (we shall call it Pothys) . I was shopping with a friend, on a crowded day. She had just picked up some pants and was waiting in queue with about thirty other people for the use of three fitting rooms. I in turn was waiting for her some distance away and saw a sales lady next to me, standing idle. I smiled at her (I did!) and said "What a crowd! Maybe you can suggest adding some more fitting rooms to manage this" in what I thought was a friendly voice.

She shot an irritated look at me and spat out, "Aaan, the manager will be sitting downstairs. Go down and tell him. Hmph!". So saying she turned her head away and I felt that she stopped short of slapping!

Well!!

Maybe she was already in a bad mood and thought of me as a nosy parker - even then did I deserve that reply?

This ensured that the portals of Pothys weren't spoiled by this nosy parker again.

Incident 2:

A popular photo studio in Nungambakkam (this we shall call Konica). Let me just say that no other shop had succeeded in making me as mad as this dear one! After the experience, in a fit of 'Hopping Mad'ness, true to the digital age I sent out a complaint EMail. Whatever I hoped for as a reply, it certainly wasn't this! I did not email you for the sales brochure, my lads!

[insert another indignant 'Well' here]

Incident 3:

A popular cruise ship (you know I'm going to say the name anyway) called the Super Star Virgo. It was my first cruise and I was all excited about it until we were actually on the ship. Well, trip details will come later but for now lets gossip.

There was a water slide which was accessed by a flight of stairs. I did not notice that we are not allowed to wear any chains and climbed all of the steps (which seemed about fifty) and prepared to slide down. The slide in-charge told me bluntly 'Stop. Can't go'.

I was confused and asked him why.

He pointed to my chain and said insolently 'Remove'.

'Oh am I not allowed to wear it? I'm sorry but its ok I'll take care'.

He shook his head and told me, 'Remove' in a harder tone.

I said, 'OK can you keep it for me? I'll come back and get it from you', so eager was I to slide down.

'No No. Go back down or put it in pocket', he said to me at a time I was wearing a swim suit (do they come with pockets?).

'Please? I don't have any pockets. Do you really want me to go all the way down there? Listen I'll take full responsibility for the chain, do let me go."

"Look. I give you one chance. You go back or get out".

That did it.

I was afterall a 'guest' (as the ship's brochures proudly called us) and common etiquette demands that you shouldn't be rude to your guests - even those who did not read the water slide rules.

Of course I complained to his supervisor and I imagined a beautiful scene would follow where His Insolency came and said "I apologise for being rude" and I sweetly told him, "Oh but I should've read the rules too. Let bygones be just that.".

Well, reality hit where no sweet scenes happened. Just one fuming 'guest' and a load of BS speaking supervisor were left.

The water slide looked too exciting that I forgot my pride and went and had a slide after I made sure that the same guy wasn't on duty. And I did remove my chain this time.

Just so that you, my reader, aren't left with a bad taste at the end of this post, I shall now recount an incident which was completely in contrast to the ones above.

Incident 4:

'The dot says its hot" - does this sound familiar? Its the promise of Pizza Hut at Singapore that they'll give a free pizza if the delivered pizza isn't hot. One pizza of ours wasn't hot and the dot did say so.

So, the next time I ordered a pizza, I told the girl that my last order wasn't hot and I had the box to prove so can I please have a free pizza too?

She forwarded me to her manager who told me that the rule is that if we get a non-hot pizza we were expected to immediately alert Pizza Hut of the fact. Telling them after a month and a half as in our case wasn't accepted.

That made sense, I said, but how can they expect me to alert them immediately when nowhere in the brochure or the box does it say so?

After some more talk back and forth of the same vein, she said that this one time they can bend the rules. And also that our free pizza was on our way along with the regular order.

I love you Pizza Hut!

Now there's an example of what the dude was talking about. Customer Delight? I should think so!!

Omana Penne

If you have reached this post looking for the song of this name - wrong destination dude! But read on, it's as (if not more) interesting. ;-)

Sometime back, I was at a queue to buy some tickets. The Indian guy at the counter presented me with two or three options. So I turned around and discussed with my friends which one to choose. My interchange with the counter guy was in English while with my friends I switched to Tamil. When I turned back to the counter, he smiled at me and said, "Oh, Tamila neenga? (Are you a Tamil?)".

I smiled back, "Amam (Yes)".

More smiles from his side, "Neenga Malayalee nu nenaichen (Thought you were a Malayalee)".

I was curious, "En? (Why?)".

An apolegetic smile from him, "No, you looked good that's why".

Wait. Do I take that as a compliment or an insult to the Tamil girls worldwide?

I, of course, was stung and told him off as politely as I could for being so presumptious!

Another day, another time, I was standing in yet another queue for airline check-in (Funny how these things always happen at queues). A lady stood behind me and I smiled at her, since we were to travel the same flight. She smiled back and asked after an instant, "Malayalee yaanu? (Are you a Malayalee?)"

I shook my head smilingly, "No".

She gave me a pitying smile (!) and turned away her head.

Well!

I could've told her that even though I may not be a Malayalee, I would still make a delightful travel companion. But, I didn't know how to say that in Malayalam.

The Madrasi

In one of my evening strolls, I came across an elderly Punjabi lady doing her breathing exercises in the park. We struck up a conversation. Or rather, we began to strike up a conversation. In my side it was carried out in English and on her side, Hindi. After a few sentences, she asked me, "You don't know Hindi?". I replied with the usual, "Umm.. I can understand a little but cannot talk".

She frowned, shook her head disapprovingly and said, "This is bad. Madrasis speak only madrasi. Everyone must learn Hindi. It is the National Language no?". There are only few things that are as annoying as the sentence above. But then I checked myself. Why should I get upset just because she's an idiot?

So I explained to her about this whole new thing called Tamil and about how there's no such language called Madrasi. She nodded blankly - poor thing was denser than I thought!

She reiterated the need for every Indian to learn Hindi, citing her own example - about how she learnt Hindi in school along with Punjabi.

I told her, "Maybe we can follow Singapore's model in language education".

"Yea yea, Singapore is very good", she nodded her assent.

"Yes, even though Malay is the National Language, they learn English and their own mother tongue in school. Malay isn't a 'must learn' you know', I said.

'Oh', she said. She clearly didn't expect that. And changed the topic.

Speaking of Malay, its one of the interesting languages and also easy to understand a little if you know English. For one, it uses the English alphabets. And most of the words are derived from English, Tamil, Hindi etc. For example, consider the following - 'I went by tren to the nearby pasar. It was a long walk from the tren stesen so I took a teksi. On the road I saw many elektrik lights. I saw a farmasi shop and a telekommunikasi shop.'

No, I haven't misspelled. Its how they were spelt in Malay. Any trip to Malaysia is spiced up by trying to decipher the road signs and a finding a small joy when a word is understood. 'Must learn' or not, learning a new language is interesting, no?

As the Eagle flies

Here I am!

I haven't disappeared, dear Reader. Ever since I shifted my job, from being a Software Engineer working 5 days a week to a mother working 24/7, its been kinda hard to fit in the blogging!

Usually a thought takes shape in my mind and before I can document it, my time is claimed by the little one. But, I have squeezed in the blogging (though it takes me about three days to write one post) because, I've missed it!!

In this post, I'm gonna take you with me to Langkawi. It is a touristy island in Malaysia, filled with beautiful beaches and plenty of rain forests (Note to self: Stop sounding like a tour brochure). Since we wanted to taste the best of both worlds, we booked two nights at a hotel inland amidst wooded areas and two nights in a hotel overlooking the bay.

There is a great beach in Langkawi, called Pantai Cenang. (Pantai = Beach in Malay). It has the most famous and crowded restaurants and night life in the island. That is to say, this is the only area which is alive after 10.00 pm. Of our four nights there, we had to head back here three nights for dinner! Talking of dinner, let me recommend you the Little Mexican at Pantai Cenang. Absolutely deliciously tasty mexican food!

Getting back to the things to do (rather, things we did) in Langkawi, renting a Toyota Vios we drove to Kampung Tok Senik resort. We lost our way and ended up taking a longer, and incidentally scenic, route to the resort. The resort was set in a Malay village style (hence the Kampung in the name). Beautiful wooden houses with wooden furnishings complete wioth creaking floorboards! After a lunch of half-baked potatoes and chicken (they had the gall to call it Madras Chicken Curry!) at the resort's restaurant, Warung Tok Mat, we headed to the Pantai Cenang which is known for the water sports it offers.

First I went Parasailing. This was the first time I was doing it all by myself. If you haven't done it yet, make time to get it done soon! Its one of the 1000 Things To Do Before You Die. The absolutely liberating feeling of being propelled by air, meeting the setting sun eye-to-eye, seeing the gray-blue sea waving at you below your feet instead of through the tiny oval of an airplane window, and getting to wave hullo to the passing airplane - beautiful beautiful feeling! After the parasailing, I also tried the Jet Skiing. It was pretty exhilarating to skim along the water in something other than a boat!

The next day we headed to the famous skybridge of Langkawi (See Billa or Don!) which is reached by a cable car. Beautiful views from up there, all mountains and sea and islands and such. Then we headed to another beach called the Tanjung Rhu from where we could charter a boat for island tour.

Since it was pretty late in the day, not many people were there and so we got a boat all for ourselves. The journey started through a mangrove forest (do you call it forest?). The boatman first stopped at a fish farm, where the fishes are grown(for food) in the sea water in small square encampments. Living in an island, visiting other islands, you can have one too many fishes to see. Fish and ocean life have begun to bore me!

So we moved quickly to the next activity - Eagle feeding. There are many bloggers out there who request the tourist to Langkawi to discourage the boatmen from this activity and I join their list.

Out boatman stopped the boat, dropped some food for the eagles in the water and then raised the motor a few times. About six or seven eagles came from nowhere and started swooping up and down grabbing the food - all for our entertainment! The argument against this activity is that the eagles lose their natural capacity to hunt and their dependency may endanger their lives.

Next he took us to a scary cave (it was dusk remember!) and said it was the Crocodile Cave. He must have seen me slowly freezing in fear for he said reassuringly, "No crocodiles now". Thank god for that!

Next stop was an even scarier cave called the Bat Cave. Here, we had to proceed on foot. The boatman conveniently moored his boat and asked us to go ahead on our own. Inside it was absolute darkness and all we were armed with was the boatman's flashlight. I shone it on the cave's ceiling and it was like I was in my worst nightmare, but awake. (Like Chandler said, I was even being charged for it!)

The ceiling was covered with about two hundred bats - and that's only at the patch of light. I kept shining the light here and there and saw the bats everywhere. I literally dragged Hubs out of the cave as fast as I could. The man actually wanted to linger and take a closer look!!

I ran and he walked to the boat and the boatman now took the sea route to the mainland (rather main island) instead of the backwater route we came by. On the way we saw many yachts moored in the water which the boatman explained to us belong to tourists who sail in to Langkawi from Australia, Europe etc. Apparently, they park here since the water is calmer rather than the main harbor.

We also visited the all famous Eagle Square of Langkawi - nothing but a huge statue of an eagle about to fly. A very typical tourist place. Enough said.

The next day we went to Durian Perangin - one of the accessible waterfalls of Langkawi. Maybe there hasn't been much rain, but this waterfall wasn't very impressive. We had to climb a whole lot of steps to reach the top of the waterfall and we had to stop half-way since climbing while carrying the tot was hard labor!

Next, we planned to go to the tallest mountain in Langkawi - Gunung Raya. We drove for about 15 km and almost reached the peak to be met with this!

So it was a U-Turn and back to the ground!

And that was the end of a much-needed relaxing vacation. Lets wave goodbye to the eagle land!

Oh, are you wondering why I call it Eagle land? Langkawi in Malay means Reddish-Brown Eagle.

Family Circus

A long awaited news of a wedding finally reached us. My hubs came to me beaming with the glad tidings. Our unmarried cousin was finally tying the knot.

'But', he cautioned me at the end of the news, 'you're not to tell anyone NOW. People (by which term he meant the parents and well wishers of the cousin) do not want Mr.X to know of this wedding for fear he may spoil it, as is his wont.'

'Fear not Oh spouse of mine', I assured him, 'This shall not pass my lips.' (And TECHNICALLY it didn't. I'm only typing about it here!!)

Further digging by yours truly unearthed the facts behind the alliance - who arranged it, how it was arranged and such details. 

I have to digress a little here. A deplorable condition that I have observed while in conversation with most men - they seem to leave out all the important albeit small details that make a news so interesting. If I had got the news through a female relative, I wouldn't have needed to dig at all.

Anyway, I was used to the digging and to my surprise heard Hubs saying unconcernedly that Mr.Y was instrumental in bringing about the match.

'Mr.Y?', I queried Hubs, 'He is the matchmaker? And you're asking ME to keep my lips sealed?'

Hubs was confused. 'What is the connection?'

'Have you any idea how we are related to Mr.Y in the first place?', I asked him, knowing quite well he hasn't.

I got the expected reply. 

'No-o-o. I just know him as Y Uncle.' 

'My poor child, you call him Y uncle because he is Mr.X's brother-in-law!'

I got the desired effect. Hubs was flatly surprised. 

A few days later he gave me an update - 'Its quite alright. It seems Mr.Y has promised not to let Mr.X know of the alliance until the last minute'.

Danger averted. What a relief!

Ahh.. the family intrigues. What will life be, without them!!!

'Tis the last day

This is the last of a eight parts series. Check out the others Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, Day 5, Day 6, Day 7. 

After a breakfast in the beautiful garden of Undercliff, we were shown over the winery by Jane Hashmere. We sampled their house wines and my favorite was what she called a dessert wine - a sweet offering with nothing of the bitterness of the usual wines.

Bidding goodbye to Tannin who obligingly posed for a few photographs with us, we were on our way back to Sydney.

It was a straightforward expressway until we neared Sydney. The highway we were on was to take us via the famous harbour bridge to the heart of the town where our hotel was located. The husband had read that the road splits into two - one goes to the bridge and the other to a tunnel. He was cautiously driving so as not to take the wrong turn into the tunnel.

The helpful signs told us we weren't far from the Harbour Bridge. And at the blink of four eyes (ours of course) we saw that we had missed turning into the lane which was to take us to the bridge and instead were headed to the tunnel. 

Our anguished eyes saw other vehicles merrily rolling along our left towards the Bridge (at break neck speed) and we had no choice but to follow our chosen path.

Now we were in the tunnel, and he slowed down a little bit so that we don't make another costly mistake and immediately was honked at by our followers - no slow pokes carefully scrutinising the road signs were allowed!

So he speeded up and at the next blink we saw that we had missed our turning again and were now headed to somewhere totally unrelated to our destination! Well, what will you! 

We surrendered ourselves to the nasty fate and went where the road took us - which turned out to be Bondi Beach.

With our half-spoilt mood at having to drive in the lo-o-ong boring tunnel and being tricked by the universe in general left me in no mood to appreciate the Bondi (pronounced Bon-dye) Beach. All that I can say now about it is that, it was like Marina on a hot day with a cool breeze filled with sunbathers. 

Mentally cursing fate and fully realising what our prophetess-of-the-diner had meant by 'No GPS? You can't drive!', we took ourselves off to the hotel to drop off the car ASAP.

We switched our preferred mode of transport to train and from King's Cross Station (oh yes they have one here) we took a double decker metro train (really!) to the Sydney Sky Tower.

It's another boring commercial entertainment spot where you get to ride a closed lift all the way to the top of a tower and get to see Sydney. And the entertainment ends there.

We got down quick and strolled around Hyde Park (they have that too!) for a while and then went on to the famous Harbour Bridge and the Opera House. 

What can I say about Opera House? We saw it, took photos to tell everybody we saw it and that's about it. Had I been an architect, I would've gone into raptures over the complex building style maybe. As it is, I'm not the former and and I did not do the latter. 

After a delicious dinner at India Quay, we took a bus back to the hotel and rested preparatory to the long journey back home on the morrow.

The dreamy seventh day

This is the seventh of a eight parts series. Check out the others Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, Day 5, Day 6, Day 8. 

Whenever I wanted to feel a little superstitious, I have always considered the number 7 to be my lucky number. And its fun to be superstitious now and then, just for the heck of it. 

In this trip too, 7 proved to be lucky. Day 7 of this trip was the best of the lot!

On this day, we started to a much-visited tourist spot - The Blue Mountains at Katoomba. Though we could've enjoyed it better without the sun shining away merrily, it was still a visually appealing spot.

The first stop was at the Three Sisters. A rock formation in the mountains. (Of course there's more info about it in Wikipedia, check here)

Taking the World's Steepest Railway, we descended into the Jamison valley between the mountains and walked along the rainforest boardwalk, getting our history lesson on the olden day coal miners and botany lessons about the flora of the rainforest. Our ascent back was by the the World's Steepest Cablecar, imaginatively named the Sceniscender.

Beside these, there weren't many to be seen (or described) in that place apart from commercial entertainments. So we were back on the road to our next destination - Hunter Valley. 

Our Lonely Planet guide had told us that Hunter Valley was home to numerous vineyards and we had planned to visit one of them and if possible stay the night there.

Being used to automatic transmission hitherto (for five days *wink*), I had many differences of opinion with the rented Getz. But the drivers behind me on the road were admirably much calm and composed (or resigned) compared to my poor husband who was going into apoplexies at my arguments with the car.

So I finally yielded the controls to him, and leant back to enjoy the scenery, in pleasurable anticipation of visiting a real live vineyard.

It was about ages later (half an hour in the real world) that I was still leaning back, not heeding the scenery and in anticipation that was fast losing its pleasure. We began to despair of ever reaching the Valley before sundown and were downcast at having to spend another precious day in just driving the stupidly long roads.

We saw a sign advertising Fresh Strawberries and stopped to buy some, hoping to learn from the shopkeeper the expected distance to Hunter Valley. We found a sulky school girl inside and asked her how far is it to Hunter Valley or the nearest vineyard. She turned a blank look upon us and said "I don't know" quite abruptly then tacked on a "Sorry" as an afterthought.

And we drove on. 

Our planned destination was the town, Cessnock. But it seemed to be too far away into the future and frankly we were getting fed up with the drive. Just as we were about to decide that it was no good and turn back, we chanced upon Wollombi.

Wollmbi (pronounced Woh-Lom-Bye) looked like a sleepy village, and except for loud coversations floating from the Wollombi Tavern, the scenery was peaceful. Silent roads, sleepy buildings and solemn hills surrounded us. Even the loud conversations did not mar the sense of beauty around us, it only added a cheery note! 

All our boredom fell away and we were excitedly looking out for a winery. Following our instincts and a sign along the way, we drove over a much rutted road and reached Undercliff winery.

A rose bush lined path took us into the heart of the establishment and we parked near a small cottage, looking for signs of inhabitation. Suddenly, a dog bounded out and started barking like mad wagging its tail. We stayed inside the car, not trusting the tail and soon a lady approached us shouting "Down Shannon" (I later found it was Tannin not Shannon).

Finding out that we were looking for a B&B, Jane Hashmere (who was our hostess) took us over the living quarters, which was the cottage we had parked by. 

It was a wooden cottage, built in 1847 by the first settlers in Wollombi. ("Quite historical you know".) The front door opened on to a living room complete with a fireplace (with a real poker!), mantelpiece with pictures, sofas that can bury you and old fashioned carpet and draperies.

To the left was a dining room leading to a kitchen and the bedroom (with a four poster bed AND a canopy!) beyond that. The furnishings, the wooden floors and panels, the old-fashined book cases, the decorations, the delicate china utensils, the little flower patterned bed clothes - as far as I was concerned, it was perfect! I had stepped into a Jane Austen! Nothing can compare to the joy brought by the feeling of living in a book!

Well, the cottage was ours for the night if we wanted and we were welcome to look over the gardens in the fast fading sunlight. Do we wish to take it? Do we! Telling her breathlessly that we would LOVE to take it, out we rushed, to explore the garden before sundown. And what a garden it was! Perfectly manicured lawns, rows and rows of grapevines, maple (I think) trees, olive bushes, and many more shrubs and trees I can't name and to top it all off, a brook nearby! 

It was a dream to be there! And we roamed hither and thither with Tannin who was actually a very friendly dog, not getting enough of it. Out of the gathering dusk (Oooh I finally used this phrase!) came our hostess' voice, "I wouldn't go late to town for dinner if I were you". Brought back to earth, we drove back to the main street for dinner and stopped at Panino's.

Served by a friendly and patient waiter who had the time to explain the menu, suggest vegetarian alternatives and make jokes with us ensured a fine dining experience. And the italian dishes all tasted so good. My recommendation to anyone planning to visit Panino's - do! 

Soon we were back, doing what we love to do - Stargazing. And this time it was not from a french window. We sat on convenient logs in the garden and slowly lost ourselves to the overwhelming beauty that enveloped us. It was one of those rare and beautiful moments in life when you feel that indescribable feeling of happiness mingled with an awe of nature! 

Good things come to an end, and so did the seventh day and now my post. Next and last day in my next post.

Reaching Sydney

This is the sixth of a eight parts series. Check out the others Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, Day 5, Day 7, Day 8. 

It was the sixth day and we had optimistically planned to drive all the way to Sydney from Melbourne, halting for the night somewhere. 

But we had reckoned without that all important factor - weather. We had apparently picked the hottest week to go sight seeing!

We had no clue of the coming disaster when we sat for breakfast with Graham Wells, and were sampling the huge bowl of fruit salad he had provided as starters, unconcernedly enjoying the view from the cool living room. We didn't know the previous day but the living room offered a beautiful view of his large farm and beyond that the Mornington Peninsula.

After breakfast, he hitched a ride with us till the main town saying he has 'temporarily lost the use of his license'. I immediately pricked up my ears sensing a story behind that sentence but was denied the joy by not knowing the correct wording to form a question which is both polite and hides my curiosity!

We made the Phillip Island National Park our next stop where we got to feed strange looking pellets to Wallabies and Kangaroos which lapped up the stuff like it was...a strange looking pellet.

By now, the sun was making itself felt quite strongly and I refused to come out from under my shady tree while hubby pranced about feeding kangaroos. The lucky guy got to feed a large sized kangaroo with a joey! But escaping a heatstroke scores with me everytime over feeding a 'roo.

It was becoming hellishly hot and I was envious of the Koala bears who were getting a shower. But the poor things needed more than that. They were crouched in their own cool nook in their tree. After the mild entertainment of watching hubby get his hand nipped by one of the large sized ducks, we decided we had had enough of wildlife to last us a long time yet and decided to get back to civilization - the Sydney part of it.

And so started the long, long drive. Driving through deserted countryside, losing our way in the middle, picking it up yet again - it was a fairly uneventful journey. As we reached Melbourne after what seemed like an eternity of boring drive through the too-hot region, we began to despair of ever reaching Sydney. Sudden change in plans made us dump the car back at the rental agency and book a flight through to Sydney. A few hours and a comfortable air journey later, we found ourselves in Sydney.

The mild disasters of losing one of our bags (thankfully full of clothes only) and renting a 2-Door Getz (which was such an anti-climax after being used to Lancers and Camrys) stumped our already tired spirits and dejectedly we made our way to Chifley's at Potts Point where we were to spend the night.

Comfortable rooms greeted us along with news from the airline that they had located our bag. With revived spirits we set out to explore the neighborhood and grab a bite. The cheerful girl behind the counter at the all-night diner offered us confused advice on sight seeing Sydney - 'You don't have GPS in your car? Then you can't drive around here'.

How dumb, I thought. Does everyone have to be latest-techno-savvy to be able to get around a city? That's too much of a city to expect of its tourists, even if it enjoys the status of being Australia's Most Expensive.

Reader, you must be anticipating the cliche and here it comes - I was to be proved completely wrong... - I can't resist adding another cliche here - ...and that's another story! (which you will find in the subsequent posts).

I'll tell you all about our (mis)adventures in driving in Sydney but let me go chronologically and first tell you about the most wonderful part of our trip and the most wonderful place we've ever stayed at. In the next post.