So finally I have manged to shrug off the infamous jet lag with long sleeps over the weekend. Our area is known as North Springs in Atlanta, US. Every place around the neighborhood actually has very beautiful names like - Sandy Springs, Brooke Ridge,Cedar Chase, Meadowlake etc. The names are well suited because the entire area seems to be covered in a quilt of greenery. Dense thick trees on either side of the road dotted by the occasional peach, red,white and purple blossoms form the usual avenues around the communities. Its a very laid back place. people are very scarce on the road apart form the office area. Most of the time you will see people jogging along the narrow sidewalks lining the dense tree trail beside.

However tired I am I cant sleep beyond 10 am in the morning.It was Sunday morning, Manjry (our third roommate) was also up by then. The day was a bit overcast, making the greenery look a shade deeper and more alluring. We were having our morning coffee together when Manjry suggested we go for a drive. Sunitha was still sleeping hence both of us went out. Manjry drove around what is supposed to be the backside of our community. It was the best driveway around. Here nature was even more bountiful. The norther side of Atlanta is inhabited by wealthy people. So the drive we followed had only palatial penthouses with mind blowing Victorian architecture, stunning driveways and elegant lawns,fences and flowerbeds. The houses were almost covered from the public view by large trees. Almost it looks like the fairytale houses which are built inside forests. I was absorbing all these with a childlike yonder while asking Manjry about this and that. The roads which went in a sinusoidal curve were providing extra thrills.


As soon as we entered our apartment, it started to rain. On Friday night also we had a bout of thunder shower. We lamented for it not raining while we were out. We enjoyed the shower from our quaint wooden patio with tea and cookies.

Here in Atlanta the daylight is for quite long, from 6.30 am to 9 pm. So its very hard to know the time by looking outside and most of the time due to that we end up having dinner by 11 pm.Yesterday I prepared my first dish in Atlanta - a yummy egg curry and rice. Since Manjry is a vegetarian, so me and Sunitha enjoyed it.

The jet lag was still there hence we decided not to venture out for sightseeing this weekend. Although we surfed the net and zeroed in on some places which we will be visiting like the coke factory, ruby falls etc. Post lunch I wasn't in a mood to sleep unlike Sunitha, who dozed off the moment lunch was over. So me and Manjry sat watching a Hindi movie - 'Aage se right' on Netflix. The movie was not very great but we had a great time laughing together and watching a hindi movie in US. Let me tell you here that on Friday night we had gone to watch 'Inception' in theater. Even after the rains, it was a houseful for the 10.20 pm show. Here in US you don't have seat number, so its always first come first serve situation. We got late and ended up watching the movie from the second row from the screen. Also I was damn tired that day, because we also had to attend the welcome party thrown in our honor by the office teammates just before the movie. So my first Theater experience in the US was not really memorable. In fact I was so tired that I had dozed off in between somewhere. Need to watch the movie again!

Later in the evening we went to the Bank of America ATM to transfer cash from our traveler's card to the BoA account. It was such a simple process. We had to just withdraw the amount from the traveler's card and the ATM had a flap wherein we had to put the money, then it would count and automatically deposit in the Bank of America account. No hassle of standing at the counter or filling forms. We went to the Walmart next, had to get our daily supplies. Walmart is almost like a big-bazar over in India, just much bigger in size. We got ourselves all the food items we could. Here usually food items wont get spoiled fast, so its safe even to buy in bulk.


We had a long day hence were in no mood to cook dinner. Manjry called her friends and all of us together went to an Indian restaurant 'Swapna' for binging. The chicken biryani was too yum, in fact the best I have tasted in a restaurant ever!We also had mango lassi, it tasted more like a mango shake, but we were least concerned about it.We observed that there was an equal number of Americans and Indians at the restaurant.Here the restaurants offer so much food in one serving its hard to finish by one person. Also free starters are there which is enough to fill you before you start the main course.

We came back home well fed and happy. The first weekend thus ended with a mixture of experiences. As I slipped into the comforts of the warm bed at night, the words of Robert Frost reverberated in my mind - "Miles to go before I sleep..."

Morning shows the day - at least that's what the textbook says. But Mumbai rains? It doesn't follow any textbook, notebook,weather forecast or whatsoever. Its the lord of its own mood and fancy when to show up. So what does the Mumbaikars do since they don't have a weather forecast to depend on? Of course they depend on their inner self or for that matter something known as intuition.

Now the fact is that this intuition is also as bad as the weather department forecasts. It tricks you and catches you unawares.

Since officially the monsoons are here in Mumbai, the first thing I do in the morning is to look out of the window and play a Q&A session with my intuition. And today it predicted fair weather going by the bright sun and no clouds in sight. So eventually I decided to try on my brand new Allen Solly steel gray trousers which was perfectly complimenting my pastel colored shirt. There was a small problem, the length of the trousers was a tad more. I didn't want to change into something else thereby upsetting my dress code, so after much speculation I decided to were my stilettos with it to adjust the height.

As expected I made a fashion statement at my workplace by attracting appreciating looks from all around. The 1500 bucks for the trousers seemed totally worth spending now. I was in all smiles until the first frown came on my face around the lunchtime. The sky was terribly overcast with a mild drizzling. I crossed my fingers. Four and a half hours to go, things can change.

Things did change and that too form bad to worse. I sprinted to the bus stand across my office at 5.30, hoping to beat the rain. The traffic was bad due to rains and the always-under-construction roads of Navi Mumbai were cradling knee deep mud and slush. As my luck would have it, the buses were diverted from the main route and by the time I came to know that the damage was already done. The bus left me at a good enough distance of 20 minutes form the main road. A guy also from my company (gathered form his I-card) was also in the same bus and hence had the same fate. People in distress become friends so happened for us.

The guy suddenly became very chivalrous and courteous. He started walking in front of me and directing me where all to step. My situation was pretty bad - a fat book in my hands and holding up the trouser with the other while trying to wade through the knee deep mud puddles balancing on my catwalk stilettos. The guy was genuinely sorry for my pathetic state or at least he looked so.

Gosh I couldn't even bear to look at the state of my trousers. The concoction of cow shit, mud, spit, earthworms and I don't know what was lovingly following me where ever I stepped.

That's when the rain started and the umbrellas of all shape sizes and colors were flung open here and there. Now all I could see was a sea of colorful umbrellas at the eye level, each trying to push and shove the other umbrella.A slight miss to dodge, and your eyes would become the perfect score of a bulls eye.

I frantically tried to defend myself against the rain and attacking umbrellas.

Just as I walk cursing everything around me, my phone rang. And it kept on ringing.

This freaking phone wont ring even once when I would be at the comfort of my ac office or lounging on the bed at home. It would always ring when I wouldn't be in a position to pick it.

But I had to pick it. Since I'm currently on a job hunting trail , I cannot afford to miss any calls coming from unknown numbers, fifty percent of the time its the consultancy firm.

I answer the phone precariously balancing my book. It's from the mobile company and the voice on the other end wants to know why my outgoing calls have reduced in number over the past week.

I resist all the temptation in the world to hurl an abuse at the guy. I politely say, "I have just dumped my boyfriend hence the call numbers are going to be so till I find a new one!" and end the call.

The guy accompanying me looked a bit shaken by the sudden aggressive damsel. I don't care and keep walking. I was so derailed by the time I reached the main road that I felt like hitting someone just for all the miseries I had to endure.Finally when I stepped out of the rick before the gate of my society, I looked like a crow caught in a thunder storm. But even a crow in a thunder storm is better than me, at least it didn't have a mud splashed brand new trouser to sport with its wet look.

Now while I write all this the sky is clear, beautifully clear. I can even see the stars in ones and twos. Just wonder what exactly the rain gods had against me.

The only good thing in the entire episode- I didn't get splashed by a rick with rich and frothy puddled water - at least this one time.

Image: Internet

7 June

In my hometown Bandhs are as common as sun rising in the east and setting in the west. But in Mumbai its something which happens to be luck by chance. While the politicians are busy hogging the limelight by protesting the atrocities of the ruling party, for the common man its an extra day of leave.

Usually three days off from office would see me jumping up and down, making plans for a sojourn into some unknown wilderness with friends. But when your friends deceive you by already getting booked for the weekend you are left to shudder thinking of getting bored for three l-o-n-g days!

Saturday was a real bore, with really nothing to do I was sulking the entire day. Sunday was still better. We had to meet the broker along with the new owner of the flat to bargain the rent. The one hour rendezvous with them provided quite a lot of entertainment, and enough to bring me out of the extended weekend blue. I decided to fight the mood by buying myself some books, tad of window shopping and a leisurely lunch at home.

Today being a Bandh day and me in no mood to cook, I had planned my hogging schedule well in advance. I got the neighborhood takeaway joint to home deliver me their special chicken biryani and mutton rogan josh last night itself.  Late in the night I made a nice playlist of the songs I had not heard for long and saved it for today. Thus I was fully equipped to enjoy the Bandh day.

I had woken up quite early going by the normal holiday standard. The morning greeted me with rain. It was more of a drizzle. I was happy. Rains make me happy when I am at home.

I spread the chatai (mattress) near my window and piled up all the pillows by the wall.  I had plans of perching there till the evening, so it needed to be cozy. My window spans almost the entire length of the wall, hence I can have a nice view of outside even while sitting on the floor. I settled down comfortably with a cup of coffee and my laptop. The rains had stopped for a while. The sky was overcast with water impregnated clouds. There was a mild wind which made the weather more pleasant.  I was in a mood to write.

I scratched my mind for a topic, but it echoed back with an empty reply. I sat idle for a while waiting for that one spark of idea which might create a masterpiece. All the while my mind was getting distracted by the sight of the small kids playing in the school ground opposite to my building. Being a no-school day, the local boys were enjoying a game of football in the empty playground. They didn't have proper goal posts or anything, only a ball and a few enthusiastic hearts.

I got so engrossed in their game that soon I found myself rooting for one team. I was voicing out my views so loudly that my roommates got worried about my mental health. After assuring them that nothing was really wrong with me, I went back to my gallery view position. Soon it started raining. I thought that the kids would run for shelter, but seemed like their energy got a boost and they were playing with much more enthu now. Splashing around the mud puddles while it rains would never go out of fashion, I inferred.

After their game ended I focused back to the empty MS word document orphaned by my lack of attention. I  felt sorry for it but I still didn't have an idea. Songs were the best remedy to make the minds tick. I played the playlist from yesterday.

Rains , rains and rains... that's all in my mind now-a-days. I have junked up my playlist with all the rain songs I could dig up from my song folders. The first song was - Indian Rain by Colonial cousins.

And within minutes the sound of the rain melody filled my ears. I was transported back to a time when I was a teenager.

Rain Clouds in the sky, I don't know why
They make me blue, when I'm thinking of you
Maybe they want to cry, As I walk on by
Hiding my tears, in a world of good byes.

Such amazing lyrics - hiding my tears, in a world of goodbyes. Beautiful. Simple, yet meaningful. Sad, yet romantic.

I still remember the time when I used to rewind this song again and again in my philips walkman while sitting alone in the verandah or walking in the garden aimlessly. The flow of music would always give me an high.  Even after so many years it still feels the same way when I hear it. Soft and melancholic with an undertone of nomadic romanticism.

I really wonder how people manage to pen their exact feeling through words. I fail miserably hence I envy them. Like Gulzar, what a gifted lyricist he is. His words almost churn the core of your heart,  making you feel the mood of the character itself. I love his lyrics because, he uses the nature extensively to portray any emotion. I'm also a nature person, hence the love is but obvious. And with Gulzar's thoughts, the song from Machis - Pani pani re comes to my mind. Lata and Gulzar definitely had come up with a winner there.

Back to colonial cousins. The voice of Hariharan makes you feel singing is such an effortless job, and rendering such multitude of emotions to the words is a mere child's play. Specially the Dhentha Dhentha Dhena na Dhena part - truly surreal.

Somehow I always felt the singers from south have unmatched voice quality and sweetness whether its balasubramanium, minmini, kavita krishnamoorthy or anyone. Learning singing the classical way is the thing that makes one a singer, not like the numerous DJ, RJ, VJ and all those Js who keep mushrooming all the time and think that without a training in singing they would hit the charts. Thankfully the horrendous DJ era is slowly subsiding. Singers and composers are again trying to focus on good original music; of course there are exceptions like Pritam, who keep proving plagiarism is in vogue and one should never feel shy in lifting other's work. Wonder why the colonial cousins vanished into oblivion after the huge success of this album. I guess the modern times composers can come up with only a one time masterpiece unlike their forerunners who were consistent in their quality of work, giving us some evergreen melodies.

Surprisingly I realized that good music and random ramblings can offer you a temporary asylum anytime, anywhere. Deadly combination - it might even make a philosopher out of you.

As I was just trying to become one, my stomach started rumbling, interrupting my thought process reminding me apart from the foods for thought, I should have some real life food, so as not to let this budding philosopher die a premature death.

I warm the parceled food, adding some extra spices, I attain my kind of taste. I come back to my room with the plate of Biryani and rogan josh. The aroma of the wet earth gets mixed with the flavor of the food in my hand giving a feeling of home.

Its this feeling which might be known as being closer to the soil  The philosopher in me lovingly muses with a filled tummy.

Rain drops and dance, strange kind of romance
I don't know why (whether) to cry out loud, But I'm feeling fine
Watch the rhythm of the rain falling down...

Rains and ramblings never go out of fashion as well...



Image Source: Internet

"Sitting here, alone in the dark, I cannot help but think these disturbing thoughts. I apologize in advance for this. I would never dream of forcing my sorrow unto another’s spirit, so I will warn you now, burn these pages. I only write these words in the futile hope that these thoughts racing through my head can be lessened, if only in the slightest"

I was standing in my balcony holding the cold railing; raindrops fell from them as my fingers moved over them. The moonlight was creating filigrees of light and shade on me through the patches of rain clouds. The wind was quite strong making me close my eyes, but I was forcefully keeping them open.

Such silent dark nights always make you reflect and prick up some long buried pain in your heart for no reason at all. Same was happening with me. I had just come to the balcony just to water my plants and the beautiful rain drenched sky held me captive and mesmerized. The lights of Navi Mumbai shimmered in dark like fireflies. There was something magical about the night. Or maybe just that I had looked at the night sky after a long long time.

As I stood there for sometime conflicting feelings of happiness and sadness were cascading like waves inside me. Don’t know why it happens, but it just happens every time I stare at the silent night sky. Suddenly the darkness becomes the clear mirror of our souls. And the questions that we keep running away from reflects back to us. We generally bury all our pains in the humdrum of daily life, but now we stand exposed - alone, well not exactly your shadow always accompanies you.

I was again drowning in the sea of self inflicted sorrow when from somewhere the song lingered to me -

"Nahin samne yeh alag baat hain...
mere paas hain..tu...mere paas hain
mere sath hain..."

It brought a smile on my face. The music made the feeling of pain melt. I looked at my shadow. It stood there silently.

"Shall we go for a dance?" I asked with a mischievous smile.

And I thought it nodded silently.

I hurried into my room and came back with the ipod .I knew exactly which song I wanted. I scrolled to Jhankar Beats folder. I held out my hand, my shadows imaginary hand slipped into mine and I pressed the play button. The melodious refrain filled the air around me -

"Hume tumse pyar kitna ...yeh hum nehi jante magar jee nehi sakte tumhare bina...."

Amidst curious glances from the moon and the few passing dark clouds we swirled into motion. I could still feel a pin prick of pain in my heart, maybe I was missing a friend or some moments from the past. I closed my eyes and just immersed myself in the ecstasy of dancing away the blues. My shadow was an understanding companion. We moved along in perfect harmony, tilting our bodies at the right beat, spining in circles or moving in asymmetrical shapes on my balcony ballroom. The wind soon joined us in the rhapsody. The three of us were creating magic.

So I'm dancing alone

Dreaming solo

'Cause your love's the one worth waiting for

It's just like heaven

Nobody's gonna break my heart

And hurt me like they did before

No one can even get the part

Not until I know it's deep

We finished our performance and bowed down before the panoramic audience. The nature applauded with a light rumble of the thunder and the sky started showering on us. For a moment my shadow moved aside and let me enjoy the center stage and bask in the limelight. The little drops of rain felt like glittering specks of stardust from the heaven.

I stood in that shower feeling liberated.

Human mind work in such a curious manner where by which we always wanted to fictionalize any simple thing which come across our way. We grow up to be skeptical.  We are taught to question everything that we see or hear. No arguing to the fact that we do need to question things at times for our own safety, but then at time we take the inquisitiveness and wishful thinking to a different level all together.

For an example, someone might just say - I like the way you think.

The skeptical brain would immediately start calculating -  was that an appreciation? Or was it a try to set the stage for telling something more demanding.

Basically our mind would conjure anything and everything other than a simple - okay, someone appreciated me. That’s so nice.

Due to the blustery weather if the door is shut, we might think of some evil spirits in action. After all, it is providing some sort of curiosity and spice for life.

It so happens that me and my room mate need to walk for about 15 to 20 minutes to reach our home. Also, for a few days it was raining during evening and hence we found it difficult to make it to home by walking. So, those gentlemen in our team who has the luxury to get a car on rent (To be specific who can spent USD 400 to 500 per month towards rental and insurance, especially when gasoline price is USD 3.5 per gallon) occasionally used to offer us lift.

But many a times, we enjoy walking primarily because it provide as a kind of forced exercise and a sense of fluttering around without hassle, not to mention we got ample time to gossip about the day's proceedings as we walked.

That particular day, we got out of office at 7 PM and it was pretty dark. We have to pass through a forlorn stretch devoid of any human beings. It was both dark and scary. There are a few companies like AT & T which we have to cross before reaching main road. Of course, the mind is so tuned to discuss all the eerie phenomena regarding paranormal activities especially when we had to cross this path.

Going by Rhonda Byrne’s Secret and Law of attraction, we might have attracted some unholy spirit with our constant discussion on clairvoyant subjects. So we did the best we could do - run. We used to check if there were no oncoming cars on the road, then we would start running in this stretch like there is no tomorrow. We did the same that day.  So after that running as we came out in the nicely lit part of the road still huffing from the brisk sprint, I happened to briefly look at the sky.

What were those on the sky? I nudged my roommate and drew her attention to the four white spots in sky. It looked like the reflection of beam of light but again the tail beam was not to be seen.

The four dots started gaining radius and they came close to form one single big circular object and in a moments time they started dispersing. It was like the movement of an octopus. There we stood frozen for a while and later we started comforting each other. But then the overdrive of Hollywood and Sci Fi movies on weekends yielded result and we gasped in unison “UFO”.

Those who read a lot on UFO might remember the clandestine news which is so popular and known as Roswell UFO Incident. In 1947, some extra terrestrial UFO crashed in Roswell in New Mexico State of US (Again not so far from our place) and US Army found some alien corpse. Afterward, they have engaged in some major research on aliens based on the debris available. Of course, many conspiracy theories are available on the basis of this.

Finally, we started walking ahead and there we came across a building on the other side of the road caught in fire and many military helicopters were engaged in surveillance. A possible interpretation of this white spots could be the military helicopters marking the space with some strong beam. We reached home and tuned to various channels to get to know more about fire accident in the locality but could not find anything regarding the same.

Afterward, back in our house, late night when my roommate was already asleep, I finished a few pending work and then before going to bed I thought of combing my hair and reached near the mirror on the dressing table. I switched on the dim light so that my roommate could sleep without disturbance.

In a few seconds I found something moving behind me and I was almost dead with the feeling of some cosmic force still playing pranks with me. You see we were still pretty jittery from the evening experience. I told myself – No, it is your mind in action. Think positive! Bur No ---- it was something. Someone is behind me covered in blanket. I wanted to scream, I could experience lump in my throat, I was getting asphyxiated!

I turned back and saw my roommate standing behind staring at me! I could not believe this and screamed “You were sleeping! What are you doing behind me?”

While saying this, I looked down to confirm whether her feet was touching the ground. Just in case.

In a hazy voice she told “Sorry dear, I just wanted to confirm whether your image can be seen in the mirror”

We stared each other for a whole minute, pinched each other and had a good laugh!

Good bye to all unholy spirits. At least for the time being, I do not have to hire a ghost buster.

Bandhs are so common in Bengal that people know Bandhs are just held to show the ruling party in bad light and not really for the welfare of common man. In fact its considered to be an irritant of the nth order. Still no one is bothered. Political benefit is the final word for the so called saviors of the common man.

Even if bandhs are such a common affair, I still remember one particular bandh day. I was only a kid of 4 years then, yet the memories of that particular day are so fresh because, we had to undergo a lot on that day.

We were in Darjeeling at that time. Uncle was posted there as a doctor. My aunt was expecting and hence could not make it to Kolkata, so we paid her a visit instead. It was a group of two families consisting of two pairs of grandma, grandpa's, aunts and their respective kids. We were about to leave next day.

Everything was packed, train tickets in place, schedules matched, we were ready. While having dinner we came to know that the GNLF had declared a three day bandh from next day. Shubhas Ghising, the GNLF leader blaring fiery speeches splashed across the television. The elders of the house looked quite worried. Our train to Kolkata was from New Jalpaiguri. And the descent from Darjeeling to NJ took at least 4 hours. Also since getting a reservation for so many people again would be next to impossible considering the rush season, cancelling our return was out of question. Anyone hardly had a wink of sleep that day apart from us kids.

Since we had never predicted such a situation previously we had thought of taking a taxi from the roadside car stand just adjacent to the quarters where we were staying. It was a grave mistake as when we came down the next day, there was not a single soul in the road, let alone taxi stand. The tension was increasing exponentially. A few locals got together and somehow managed to convince the driver of a dilapidated jeep to take us to NJ. As expected he charged an astronomical amount, with no other option, we bowed down.

Thus began our journey downhill.The usually busy market area bore a dead look, only a few goon type local guys were seen here and there. Within half an hour of driving we came across a procession of people carrying flags, festoons, placards mouthing slogans in the local dialect. Huge fires were lit up on all sides and effigy's burnt. Mob psychology was gathering pace. As we passed the area we also witnessed some violence between the leaders and a tourist group.Seeing the somber faces of the elders we could also feel the mounting tension. The elders had taken a great risk by deciding to travel along with kids on a day like this. We were badly praying to god, to see us through.

A short distance from there we faced another issue - Rasta roko (Road block). It seemed that we were not alone, there were tourists like us who had trains to catch and were forced to travel on a day like this. Two three jeeps were stranded before us. Our driver got out and engaged in conversation with the other divers and the protesters. They were all talking in Nepali and we could hardly figure out anything. After sometime the driver informed us that they were not ready to let us go at any cost, still he would try some more. Time was running out and so was our patience.

We had started early but with all these issues we were now having only 4 hours in hand to make it to NJ. Half an hour passed and still they didn't budge. Heated conversation followed between the frustrated tourists and the aggressive goons. We also saw some guys carrying arms among them. We kids were as much petrified as the elders. It was a moment of realization - life was more precious than catching a train. But we were already amidst the mess, and there was no wayout apart from praying. When the one hour margin had crossed, we left hope of making it to NJ, our only though was to get out of this. The elders had ordered the driver to turn back, when suddenly the unexpected happened.

We could hear sirens from a distance and soon we saw a convoy of white cars coming towards us. The political goons suddenly got busy clearing the way. It was then we got to know that GNLF leader Ghising himself was travelling to NJ and it was his convoy. It was a god sent opportunity. The road was narrow so in order to let his convoy pass, the vehicles in front had to be let off. Thus we were finally allowed to go! We couldn't believe our luck.

The driver also got charged and drove like Schumacher. By then we were so much drained with tension, that we hardly cared how he drove. We reached the station 10 minutes past the departure time of the scheduled train. We still had to cross a long over bridge to reach the platform. It was the run of a lifetime.

Grandpa ran before us to stop the train if there was a chance. My mom, granny, aunts ran behind him like there was no tomorrow with the kids dangling by their hands like rag dolls.

The coolis pulled the ladies in. Later we knew , considering the bandh they had delayed the departure of the train. By the time we took seats, the fatigue level was extreme. Mentally, physically we were absolutely derailed. We blessed our stars profusely that day which kept us safe amidst all the troubles.

Ours was just a one off case in which we got lucky. Most of the time it isn't. Bandhs like this might get all the attention for the opposition, but what does it offer to us - the janta? Only toll-full of miseries and harassment. Oh saviors of the common man, kindly take some time off from hogging the media light, ask us, do we want a bandh or do we want sanity? You protest against rising petrol prices, why don't you use fewer air-conditioned cars to decrease the load on nature and preserve the natural wealth yourself? Whom do you point fingers at when you are also one among the many responsible for depleting the natural resources thereby making them scarce and expensive. Promote awareness not bandhs!

From the day I have landed in this amazing place called San Diego, I have been learning the American ways of course the hard way. We are so used to the Indian lifestyle that knowingly or unknowingly we tend to follow the same over here, only to realize, this is not the way things should be done over here.

One of many such things is cooking on an electric stove and extensively using the microwave. Never in my life had I known the multi utility of this contraption if I had not come here. But of course after all it’s the Indian brain on the American gadgets so, you see wonders will definitely happen. So even with the electric oven we didn’t fret to prepare biryani, pakoras, chapattis or any other Indian delicacy.

Let me give you a small information here. We live in studio apartments over here which means it’s a single room in which you have an attached modular kitchen and bath. So everything in one space including the fire alarm. One day we had invited our colleagues for dinner. We had prepared 24 aloo parantha that day for 6 of us. We were so busy with the khana that we didn’t notice that the room was filled with smoke. When the guys came in they started coughing and complaining, its then that we realized that the fire alarm didn’t go off even if the room was exploding with burnt oil fume and smoke. The guys investigated and found that the smoke detector was off. Had a narrow escape that day from bringing down the whole neighborhood.

The food marts over here are filled with fresh produce. All the reds, greens,yellows and violets allure me to experiment with the pots and pans. One such marketing day I picked up a big fat brinjal in my hands and proposed with a smile– “Hey shall we try Baigan bharta today?” Meera, my roommate immediately snubbed me saying – “Are you crazy? Do you want the receptionist to hand us over to the police for trying to cause a fire in the hotel?”

Thus ended my ambitious dream of making bhaigan bharta with the American brinjal.

But, there are so many possibilities with the food stuffs over here that I always feel like experimenting with the dishes I have never tried my hands with. Like that day when I coaxed Meera that we will make stuffed capsicum for dinner. I absolutely hate and Meera loves capsicum hence when I took the initiative of cooking capsicum, Meera hardly had any objection.

I made a yummy filling with mashed potato, chilli,onion etc and stuffed it inside the capsicum generously.By then Meera was free and she took upon her the responsibility of shallow frying the stuffed capsicums.Very willingly I handed over the baton to her. As I was free I decided to ring home in that time. Before moving out to the lawn I told Meera - "I'm keeping the door ajar, as the room is getting a bit smoky"

Just as I put the first step outside, a deafening shrill voice started ringing behind me. I dashed inside fearing the worse.

"Jeezz the fire alarm!" She panicked.

I panicked double the time and stood transfixed looking at the fire alarm right on the top of my bed howling like a banshee. I never had imagined in my life that it could shriek in this ear-splitting manner.

Meera jumped on my bed with a wet towel and began waving it below the alarm. Nothing happened. The shrill embarrassing sound kept on bellowing at its best.

With no other option, I rang the front desk giving the detail of the mishap. She suggested to keep the door open for sometime so that the smoke goes off and the alarm would eventually die out.

I did the exact thing, I opened the door fully and immediately slammed it shut! Because I deliberated, if everyone in the adjacent rooms hear this sound they all will panic.

Meera could not quite reach up to the alarm, hence I jumped on the bed and tried to switch off the alarm while Meera instructed - "You got to hold the button down for 30 seconds to get it to stop" . Poor me I was still struggling to locate the goddamn button with the speaker of the alarm right next to my ears.

I got down and thought what to do next. Meera said she will try once again, and began hitting the alarm with wet towel. I thought it wise to call the front desk again before someone complained. The receptionist understood the plight of us this time and was on her way. I saw her coming down with a box and another lady. All of a sudden there was silence. I looked back and saw Meera giving a victorious smile while the fire alarm dangled from the roof.

"Goodness heavens! How did you manage to uproot that?!" I was at my wit's end.

"It's okay at least that stupid thing stopped na?" she said smugly.

"Darn, now we will be paying for this damage till the rest of our lives and that too in dollars!!"

By then there was a knock on the door. The receptionist was there. I held the door for her red-faced, while the other lady went inside and inspected the damage done. There was positive fear on my face for the consequence.

''What were you cooking?'' The receptionist asked me trying to sniff her way through the mess.

I was sure that she would say next - ''It smells so yuck and burnt'' so I stammered managing a toothy smile, ''Well nothing, its just capsicum you see''

She smiled and said, ''It smells so yummy!''

I almost fainted.

I looked back at her to reconfirm whether I heard the right thing. She was still smiling. By then the other lady had uprooted the entire alarm. After that she educated us on the alarm. That's when we came to know that it was a smoke alarm and not a fire alarm as we had thought. It was basically for detecting smoke while anyone was in sleep and alert them.

After some pleasantries and promise to repair it next day they left leaving us in a state of partial shock. They didn't ask us to pay for the damages and also appreciated the food! Our faces were a sight to behold.

We looked at the dangling wires from the ceiling and burst out laughing.

I wondered whether we should have ideally offered them some stuffed capsicum for their generosity. But then decided otherwise.  I didn't want to end up in jail on charges of trying to food poison someone from the front desk.

Rains in Bengal make you feel like someone opened the tap and forget to close it. It goes on endlessly throughout the day. No one likes to go out in such a weather leaving the comfort of home. Even the cats. So, one day, Junglee needed to pee and could not go out. He was waiting at the entrance looking at the rain. I had to get something from the garden and took an umbrella and steeped out in the rain. Junglee came running along with me under the umbrella. I held the umbrella while His Highness finished his urgent call of nature and then again brought him back- safe and dry. He licked my fingers as a mark of gratefulness.

Junglee always believed that he was a far more superior species than the dumb humans around him. He believed that we had the honor of him staying with us as an outcome of some good deeds that we had done in our past lives. He always lived life king size. He was very moody and since he was the first cat in our family, he was also quite pampered. I never regarded him as a pet. Since I was an only child, I always addressed him as my li’l naughty brother. I never felt the need for a sibling because he was always with me. I had a separate study room – which was completely my world. No adults were allowed there. Only Junglee was allowed. There was a sofa in my room. He used to climb up on it after lunch for his afternoon nap. Then he used to begin his marathon licking. Cats like to be clean always and Junglee was extremely particular about the way he looked. Sometimes, I used to take him in my lap for cuddling. But, finally, I used to give up bored and frustrated with his never ending grooming. My legs would start aching and all the love would vanish as I deposited him on the sofa and started my own work. He usually slept with both of his legs spread apart facing the ceiling, since he needed the air to flow over his fat little belly. He was always very patient with me. I used to tell him all my worries, fear, happiness and daily happenings. He was the first to know about my crushes. I cried my heart out before him when Rahul Dravid (I was cent percent sure I would marry him one day) got married. Funny as it may sound, before every Maths exam I used to touch his feet and say, “Please let me pass this time. I promise I will study harder the next time.” Well, the next time never came and this became a ritual for me. I had this notion that I would surely flunk the paper if I did not touch his feet before the exam. Later, I started to do the same before chemistry exams too. And you know what? I, miraculously, passed every single chemistry exam, which I was sure to fail in otherwise.

He used to love sitting on my books and notebooks, playing with my pens, chewing my eraser and making paw marks on my just completed homework. I did get angry but that was nothing compared to that one particular day when I got really mad at him. I had finished making a craft project depicting ‘A happy family at Diwali’ after working continuously for two days. It was to be put up on the school board on Parent’s Day. I had gone to the dining room for dinner. When I came back, I saw torn paper all over the floor in my room and Junglee sitting on the top of my craft project chewing away happily. I almost had a major cardiac attack as I rushed to my table. He had already gobbled up the mother. Now, he was half-way through with the fathers head. “Eeeeeeeeeeee”, I yelped, crossing the 60 decibel limit and hit him on the back. He became so frightened that he jumped out of the open window and fled. I was inconsolable after that. Somehow, Ma did some perfect damage control and my craft project looked better than ever. But, Junglee did not return that night; not even for dinner, which he could never live without. The morning passed and he did not come. I could not eat my lunch properly as I was feeling extremely miserable for frightening him like that. Finally, he came back in the evening all brushed up. I was never so happy in my whole life and hugged him tightly and went on kissing him till he hit me with his paw on my nose. I swore never to scold him again.

I was feeling very sorry because he had not eaten for almost a day because to me. I fed him all I could. The amazing part was that Junglee was not fat at all. But, he had a tremendous appetite and was always hungry. Food just vanished inside him. All the time I was feeling sorry for him, little did I know why he was late in coming back home. I discovered it after two days. I was sitting in the veranda trying to solve a stupid integration problem when I saw Junglee with another dirty white cat. Quite unnatural. Usually, whenever he was with any other cat, they were always fighting. Instead, he was going all mushy-mushy over this new feline. No wonder!

A close observation revealed it was a ‘she’. “Junglee’s got a girlfriend”, I announced to Ma happily. After that, Junglee was generally absent half the time. He didn’t even come back to eat. It is from him that I learnt that falling in love can be such a tedious job. He had a number of girlfriends during his life time, and every time he brought a girl home, I thought he deserved a better looking feline.

Junglee always slept in my bed. During winters, he would snuggle inside my quilt and start purring once he was warm and comfortable. I liked it too because the body temperature of cats is generally higher than humans and it felt warm when I hugged him and slept. During the summer, he would sleep at one corner of the bed. When I sleep, I migrate into a pseudo world and don’t expect me to wake up even during an earthquake (just kidding?). So, one day, I was in deep slumber when, maybe, I kicked Junglee by mistake. Well, this was the second thing that Junglee disliked - being disturbed while sleeping (first is PDAs remember?). I will remember, all my life, the bite that I received from him after that. “Aaaaaaaaaaa”, I woke up holding the big toe of my foot in pain. He gave me a, “Serves you right, you moron. That will teach you a lesson or two about keeping your feet to yourself.” look and drifted off to sleep.

Junglee was perhaps the best thing that ever happened to me in 25 years. After him, we adopted many more cats (we had 5 cats at one time). But, he was the most intelligent cat I had ever seen. It may sound cheesy but he was my friend, philosopher and guide. I can go on and on about the happiness he brought into my life. I really doubt whether I could have loved a real brother, if I had one, as much as I loved Junglee. He was with me for 11 long years before I went to Calcutta to attend college. It was very hard for me to stay away from him and all the other cats. He was l2 years old when he passed over to Rainbow Ridge. (A name for cat heaven).

I held him in my arms and wished him a safe journey as the last breath left his body. I will never forget that day. It was truly one of the hardest things I had to endure. Because I held him as he passed, I think part of his soul is attached to mine and I feel him with me always. I truly loved him and felt that he was a kindred spirit. While I write all this, every moment is coming back to me and making me happy and sad at the same time. I still miss him terribly even though he is gone for almost five years now. If he is somewhere and seeing me write this, I just want to say that,

“I love you. You are the most handsome man I will ever meet. There can be no one like you. You will always rule my heart.”

C ~ CUDDLY

A ~ ADORABLE

T ~ TERRIFIC

I love cats. And that is the universal truth. Today I will tell you how my never ending love

story with these fluffy little bundles of joy began. It was a lazy afternoon in 1992. We had shifted to a new house recently. New house, new neighborhood and everything. I had got my own little room, which meant I was a big girl now. Our neighbors had a puja that evening, so Ma was helping them out. Dad was at the department. So that left me alone at the house. Within a short while I got tired of watching the TV and decided to explore the backyard of our house. Since everything was new, I was on a never ending exploration spree those days. I opened the door and went out. Everything was calm and quiet, except for the occasional rustling of the leaves and the chirping of birds. Nothing very interesting. I turned my back and was about to go, when I heard a faint “meow”.I stopped in my tracks and turned around. I looked around. Nothing. “Meow”. I heard it again,this time a bit louder. Then, I saw something move in the pile of leaves in one corner of the courtyard. I went there and saw a tiny thin black striped mass wiggle out of the leaves. Anyone seeing it for the first time would think what an ugly kitten it was, but for me anything even remotely related to a cat was cute. I bent down and patted it. It rubbed its head on my legs. It was then that I saw it limp with each step it took. It was hurt. How could anyone hurt this little thing, I thought aghast. I ran inside and brought a little milk and bread. It could not eat the bread properly as it was very small, but had a little milk. How I wished to take it inside with me. But I did not know whether Ma would allow it, though she, too, loved cats. It was still rubbing its head against my leg. I took all my will power to go inside and lock the door though my heart broke to leave that little thing outside. After 5 minutes, I opened the door again and peeked outside. The little thing came wobbling to me and straight inside. It looked around the kitchen and went into the hall as if it knew the house well. I picked it up and hugged and kissed it. It felt so good. I had a cat when I was a toddler and I wanted to have one again. My reverie broke when the doorbell rang. I knew it was Ma. So I hurriedly left the kitten in the backyard and opened the door.

As hard as I tried to put the thoughts of the little one behind, I could not. I went to the kitchen where Ma was cooking and told her about the little thing. She looked at me and said, “Taking care of a pet can be a lot of trouble. You do know that”. I didn’t want to know anything, I just wanted it. ”It won’t be much of a trouble” I said. Ma opened the backyard door. There was no sign of the cat. My heart skipped a beat. I frantically looked around. Finally, I found it sleeping peacefully against the trunk of the large jackfruit tree. “See it’s so small and hurt too. Please can we take it home?” I was almost on the verge of crying. Well, that was it. Ten minutes later, Ma and I were making a bed out of a worn-out rug while the little thing looked on. By then, Ma had already cleaned it and given it some more milk. But, it was more interested in watching what we were up to. After a comfortable bed was made we put the little one in it. ”This is your bed from today”; I said to the little one and smiled. It kind of nodded its head, as if it understood what I said. It did not object to the small bed we had made for it initially. It knew that it had succeeded in convincing us to take it in and soon the time would come when it would be promoted to our bed. It just sat there and groomed itself and seemed very happy.

“What should we call him?” I asked Ma. It was a ‘he’, Ma had already told me. Ma had also told me that he was a wildcat. He also had black and white stripes like a tiger. These stripes were very condensed when he was small and it made him look more like an owl rather than a cat. So we named him “Junglee”. Short and sweet. At first, he did not respond when we called him by his name, but soon he understood and came running every time we called him.

Junglee was a very intelligent cat and well mannered, and he learnt the rules of the house pretty soon. Maybe, he was the first generation in his family to be domesticated. So, he had his wild instincts intact. He was not the typical domestic cat that one generally sees. He was the master of his own will. He was adorable only when he wanted to be. He really did not love excessive PDAs (public displays of affection). But I just loved doing that to him (naughty me? ). I used to pick him up, cuddle him, and kiss him and do all sort of mollycoddling that irritated him. But, maybe, he knew that I was the one who was responsible for making him a part of the family. So, he bore with me. He loved to eat everything that I ate.

Somehow, he had the misconception that this small monster is always given the best things to eat. So whenever I sat down for eating, he was there at my side giving me a look that said, “Aren’t you going to offer me some?” That look in his eyes made me feel like a criminal and I used to immediately give him some of it. So there he sat with me, giving me that look till I finished my food. After that, he would just walk away like a prince and not even look back at me. So much for feeling guilty!

I still remember a particular incident. It was past midnight. We were all fast asleep. Suddenly we head a big catfight in our yard. All of us got up immediately. The first reaction was to search for Junglee. But he was not in the house. Panic started to build up. Papa opened the door hurriedly. It was pitch dark outside and, well, Junglee was not exactly so fair that we could spot him instantly. We ran towards the origin of the brawl. I feared the worst. Junglee was quite small then and if any big cat was fighting with him, I really did not want to think about the consequences. We began calling him frantically. Then, we saw two green eyes staring at us in the dark. “It is him”, I almost jumped with joy. Sure enough, Junglee was sitting on the cement culvert we had in our garden, observing two other cats fight. Ma picked him up and took him inside. He was not that interested in coming back but Ma was too shaken. So, she put him in our bed. Now this was the thing he really had his eye on for long, so he could not complain. That was the day our bed became his bed. After that day he continued with his midnight shenanigans, learning the art of warfare from other cats. All this dedicated training paid off and he went on to become very skilled in the art of catfight. He would always emerge victorious and by the time he was three, he was the king of our colony.

Another incident happened when Gujarat was affected with plague. With the plague spreading like wildfire, warnings and preventive measures were doing the rounds of the print media and TV. Even a single mouse was enough to unnerve us. It was evening time and Ma and I were watching TV and relaxing. Now, Junglee’s way of entering the house was generally through the window. So, when a black mass jumped into the room from the window we knew it was him and continued to watch TV. Now there was a small bed beside the window. After coming inside, Junglee vanished under the bed. During a break, I went to the bed to see what he was doing down there for so long. When I bent down, to the horror of my horror, I saw him playing with a mouse, which was almost the same size as him. I shrieked as a natural reaction. Seeing me, he came out boldly with the mouse dangling in his mouth. Well he was having trouble doing so, because he was small then. But that did not prevent him from showing off his great achievement – his first prized catch. He deposited the rodent at my feet and started to rub his head against my leg. I almost jumped three steps back. Maybe he expected me to congratulate him and pat him for this brilliant feat. By then, Ma came to see what the fuss was about. She gave, more or less, the same kind of reaction as I did minus the jumping part. Ma shouted at Junglee for his doings and shooed him off. He looked at us, unsure, and leapt out of the window. A long cleaning session with soap, Phenyl and Dettol proceeded until Ma was completely sure that the place was disinfected. We had just settled down after the safai abhiyan, when a black mass jumped inside again. Because of the fiasco the last time, Ma was alert this time and got up to see what he was up to. She did not even take a step when Junglee came straight to her feet, dragging a mouse which was double his size. Ma froze in her steps. After placing it at her feet, he looked up at Ma with much expectation. It seemed like he interpreted our panic the last time as our dissatisfaction at seeing such a small rodent. So, this time he bettered himself with a bigger catch and proudly presented it to Ma, whom he thought to be much more sensible than me and who could identify true valor. We gathered from his approach that he had no intention of eating it and was just showing off his skills and trying to get some credit like before. This time we did not panic. On the contrary, both of us begin to laugh. I guess this is what extreme shock does to you. Junglee did not quite like it when we cleared the mess and kept on meowing in disapproval. After the cleanup, Ma asked me to hold him while she cleaned his tooth, which was again a tough thing to do with all the clawing and pawing involved. After that, Ma closed all the windows and made him sit on the chair like a good cat and threatened to throw him out if he did something like that again. His nonchalant face expression said, “You ignorant people! You can never identify real talent, even if it jumped up and bit you!”

Continued in Part 2

I was reading an article on ragging today and  started remembering all the times I was ragged. Initially I remembered my sophomore years in college. Just as I was walking down the memory lane, I remembered an incident from my lower Kindergarten days(I was 3 something years then) . I studied in a catholic school. The lower KG section was separated by a long corridor from the main school premises. Our teachers would make us form a long line and lead us to the playground which was in the main school premises. There was a separate playground for the kids which housed a slide, see-saw and jungle gym (those complex constructions from metal pipes, on which children can climb, hang, or sit). Climbing has always been my passion :), so my favorite thing was the jungle gym. I used to climb up to the highest level and sit there watching the other kids scurry about in the playground. Small girls like altitude, same was with me. It kind of gave a satisfaction of being at a higher level than the others.

One day our class teacher was absent. Generally during such occurrences a senior student(minder) would be assigned of 'minding' the class for the day. They would come and make us play games and engage us in different activities in the class room in a disciplined way so that the teacher less class won’t create commotion.

It was our games period. The senior made us form a line and lead us to the playground. We played while she chatted with one of her friends along with keeping a tab on us. Me and Rini (my best friend during those days) were perched up at our usual position on the jungle gym. For some unknown reason the senior's friend kept on looking at us all the while. We felt a bit uncomfortable but couldn’t help it. We knew there was no point in complaining to the senior as the other girl must be her best friend from the way they were talking.

The game period ended. The senior called for everyone to form a line. Me and Rini were the last one to join every time as we wanted to enjoy the jungle gym till the last moment. Finally before the line started to move class wards, we started to climb down. The kids already started to move by the time we reached ground and we ran to join the line. Just then we were stopped by the other girl. She stood on our way with her hands stretched. We looked at her questioningly.

"Hi I am Bhavna" She said.

Rini and I exchanged looks. She looked scared. I mustered up some courage and mumbled, "Our line is going"

"It's ok. I have talked with your minder, you can be with me for a while" She said with an odd smile.

For the first time I felt a bit feared. Catholic schools are so disciplined that the moment you do something odd, a complaint would go to the principal. Firstly we did not join the line when we were supposed to and now we were stranded in the playground with a stranger.

She saw the fear in our eyes and said, “Don’t worry I will let you go the moment you do what I ask you to do"

We didn’t have the guts to ask what.

"OK so tell me ABCD start to end" she commanded to Rini.

She fumbled a number of times but completed it somehow. Now she looked at me and ordered, “Tell 1 to 100"

Instantly Rini started crying, when it should have been me who would have cried. I got stuck at eighty nine. She waited for sometime and then with an irritated look said, " Since you couldn’t complete it you have to stay back and your friend can go!"

I was horrified to hear that. Bhavna tried to shoo away Rini but she did not budge.

Bhavna looked at me and said, “What is 1000 plus 500?" I didn’t have any clue what she was speaking about. Seeing me stammering Rini started to cry loudly.

"I will slap you if you cry once more!" She said and made hand gestures of slapping.

This opened the floodgates and Rini started to wail at the top of her voice!

Fortunately for us a senior guy was going through the ground. He heard the wailing and came to us. He looked senior to Bhavna and demanded what was going on. Now it was her turn to fumble. The guy scolded her and warned her strictly. After that he led us to our class room and explained everything to the teacher. We were shaking like dry leaves till the time we reached our classroom. The teacher and the guy assured us that we were safe and nothing to worry. But that incident had instilled a sharp fear in us. From that day onwards we always kept close to the other kids while in play ground and was always first to form the line.

So that was the first time I encountered ragging in my life. The incident might sound very trivial now, but back then it was truly a frightening experience. It taught us the important lesson never to be left behind in a group. But then again, old habits die hard. especially with me. :) I will tell you another interesting tale when I was left behind and its consequences some other day.

Have a great day!