In Bangalore..

Two weeks from now, it will be 4 yrs since I came to Bangalore. It has been the most eventful period of my life, and probably the most important too.. I came to bangalore as a naive girl, just out of college, and for the first time, away from the family. From there, I have literally grown in stature and experience, and I don't mean it just professionally, though professionally too it has been quite an experience. I have already worked in 4 different companies!! On the personal front, I got committed, married and had a kid. All this happened during my stay in Bangalore. And yet, I am still not completely at home here... I guess it has been my fault all along. I am the one resisting change.
There are several things that make me feel like I don't belong to the place. The one that really alienates me is food. It is so different from what I eat, rather can eat.. as in spicy food never goes down well with me.. I sometimes wonder, when I can eat Chinese, Continental, Italian, Mexican, Thai, Afghani, Malaysian, even Korean food, why can't I eat rasam-rice. It should be easier.. probably coz' I never gave it a good enuf chance. The only other significant element is the language. I can pick up words, and bits n pieces, but when people talk fluently, I get completely lost. I have got plenty of friends who are Kannadiga's, and can help me overcome at least the language barrier. As for the food, lemme give bisibele baath and Mysore pak another decent chance..

For Him..

Why do we always end up hurting people we love the most? Those closest to us get the best and the worst of us. Probably the fact that they are so very close to us works against them. For one, if we are lucky enough to be geographically close, we spend most of our time together and that gives us ample opportunity to mess up stuff. Then our deep interest in each other's lives and wellbeing, often without an equally deep understanding leads to more issues. And then there are expectations... Expectations out of each other, expectation out of a relationship.. You can really expect them to ruin your relationships.

Yesterday, I had a bad fight with the person closest to me.. the fact that I am married makes it a giveaway. You can not actually call it a fight since I did all the talking and believe me, I am truly disappointed with myself. I still strongly believe in all that I said, and am willing to fight for it again... it was the manner in which things proceeded, that left me feeling so guilty. I practically waited for things to pile up and then tried clearing it off, all in one go. I had tried, but probably not hard enough to nip it in the bud. Some more sincere effort could have certainly helped. Also, we treat strangers and people who-do-not-matter with more respect and consideration than those who mean the world to us. Somewhere in our subconscious, we very well know that the person is so attached to us that come what may, he would never turn back on us, and we use it to our advantage. I did just that, blurting out just anything that I felt like saying, without giving any thought at all to his sensitivity. And in the end, after two and a half hours of playing the blame game, whose loss was it? Mine, and mine alone! That is the irony of the whole thing. When we hurt someone so dear to us, it is us who suffer the most. I was sad because he was sad, and sadder because it was me who was responsible for his sadness. Anyways, that is really no excuse.. And I wish to apologize, more for the sake of my own peace than to make up for his agony. I am sorry nonu, I really am!

Early morning blues..

It is 8.30 am, tuesday, friday still so far off morning and here am I, sitting in the office with a persistant headache and no inclination whatsoever to work. My headache can be attributed to acute shortage of proper sleep, not surprising considering that my daughter has just turned 8 months old, and still has trouble sleeping at a stretch. She wakes me up thrice every night and thrice I put her back to sleep when finally at around 5 in the morning she gets really worked up. She begins by purring softly in my ears followed by some rough kicking in my tummy accompanied by pulling at my hair. Now that she has grown 2 tiny teeth, she uses them to her advantage dexterously. Usually I am too drowsy to take notice, and if it actually starts bothering me, I tactfully turn her legs towards my husband. It used to work fine till last month, my husband would snore off peacefully oblivious of all the thrashing going on. However, now that her motoring skills have improved quite a bit, she re-orients herself to target me again. Also, if all that fails, she resorts to her good old screaming which is a proven success. Whatever it takes, I am not allowed to sleep past 6 am. It may not look so early to some disciplined people out there, but believe me, it is excruciating for me.. more so coz' I go to bed only after midnight. Babies have an amazing sense of time.. My daughter is a 'whenever to sleep, early to rise' person. I just hope she continues being this way when she starts school :) Anyways, 6 o'clock I get out of the bed and make a nice big bottle of formula for her only to realise that she is not all that hungry. She eagerly takes the bottle only to refuse it some two-and-a-half minutes and half-an-ounce later. All she probably wants is some quality time with me before I get ready for the office. For some reason, she is extremely playful and lively in the mornings, though she has the same amount of sleep and rest as me, and considerably less than that taken by the rest of the family. She is so bright, almost scintillating, smiling just too often, and giggling even more, delightfully throwing her little arms and legs just anywhere. Quite recently, she has learnt to wave her arms, both in sync when you say 'bye' and some other forms of greeting as well, so she gleefully begins the practice right away... all this until another hour passes by and it is time for me to leave for work.. The mood suddenly changes when I pick up my purse and put on my shoes. Her antics stop abruptly and she looks so lost and out of sync, probably trying hard to figure out what takes me away from her for so long every day. She does not wave her arms when I say bye.. rather she stretches them out, her tiny fingers trying to hold my sleeve and her naughty grin replaced by a look I lack the courage to pen down. But I move into the car swiftly ignoring my little daughter, fighting my own guilt laden conscience..

Driving woes..

I am learning to drive. After an initial crash course by an instructor, which literally got my car crashed and some not-so-useful driving sessions, my husband has taken over the charge. I now go driving my own car, where unlike the instructor's car, all the controls rest with the driver. The rider has no control whatsoever. A small confession, I have very little, if any at all, aptitude for driving. It took me over a month to drive properly an ungeared two-wheeler. A car has twice the number of wheels, is four times as bulky and a hundred times more difficult to drive. The fact that really scares me and makes it all the more difficult is that it has the potential to cause serious injury to others if I make a simple mistake. Keeping this in view, we go driving late at night, generally past midnight when there is actually nobody out on the streets, and I need to ensure the safety of just the 3 of us-me, my husband and my car. Offcourse there are still a few stray dogs loitering around, who make it a point to come in my way everytime I drive. I really don't know how to get rid of them, and my futile efforts at honking at them have only infuriated my husband. Anyways, the idea behind this post is something entirely different from discussing my driving. It is going down the memory lane, and remembering my dad's herculean effort and mammoth patience when he taught me to drive.
After finishing school, I joined MNNIT, then known as MNREC, Allahabad for a B.Tech. in Mechanical Engg. The college was around 6 km. from my home. For the first year, I really din't have much trouble commuting. I had a friend living very close to my place who was also pursuing the same course, and she drove a two-wheeler. So I just went with her. However, she moved to the electrical department after the second semester. That is when I seriously felt the need of driving my own vehicle. My father went ahead and got me an automatic geared Hero Puch. My mother was quite against the idea of my driving it, which was in great contrast with the faith she usually puts in me. Her inhibitions were not all that baseless since I could not even ride a bicycle properly. But papa had faith, more in his training than in my ability to learn. He would take me to a sports ground every morning, all thru' the summer vacations and make me drive the bike with him as the pillion driver. I fell down several times, and he also came down crashing with me, but he did not give up. He simply accepted the fact that I lack the aptitude for it, and I would need additional training. Not once did he mention the fact that my brother drove his mobike, a Hero Honda when he was in the ninth standard without any training. But deep down, I did realise that and at times, I would be quite ashamed of myself. But I did not let that deter me from learning to drive.
Summers over, I had a reasonable amount of control on the bike. The college reopened, and I went on my bike the first day, eager to show my friends my vehicle and my ability to drive it. I was half my way when I noticed somebody following me rather closely. I brought the vehicle to a halt, and turned back to find papa who had been following me all thru' the way. He wanted to make sure that I reach the college safe and sound. I found it rather irritating at that point of time, but now that I realise his concern, I feel so obliged. My dad would never read this post, unlike mom he never learnt to use a computer, but still I thank him, now and here with all my heart. It was much more than driving that he taught me those summers.. He taught me to have faith in myself, even when those closest to me have doubts about my abilities. Now, at times, my husband nearly gives up when I drive badly. A number of times, he has told me that I can never learn to drive properly, but I refuse to leave it at that. Every night I pull him out of his cosy blanket and request him to take me for my driving classes. I know I will get yelled at, but at the same time, I know I would learn.

Allahabad.

I am truly getting addicted to blogging.. I don't want people to think me as overly enthusiastic, and that is exactly why I have patiently waited for the next day to begin before posting this. You see, for a person who intends to keep her blog private, I am still so very conscious of my image. Something to do with my being a lady, I guess :)

Another reason why I am so keen on posting this is that the subject is so very close to my heart, and I just can't wait to write about it. I am passionate, to the extent to being crazy about Allahabad, my hometown. Its been a little over 4 years now since I left Alld., but I actually never left the city. I left my heart and my soul there.. I always feel that I belong to the place, it possesses me.. Any river is Ganga to me (I hate putting it as 'Ganges', makes me feel that it deprives the holy river of its divinity.. sounds like Thames or Hwang Ho.. completely alien to me.. ), any park is Alfred Park, any garden is Khusroo Bagh.. the memories just linger on, overshadowing reality. And it doesn't stop at that.. whenever I truly enjoy or like something, it gets christened to the name of its counterpart in Alld. If the chinese food is good at Three Quarters', it is El Chico of Alld., the Hanuman Temple of Tippasandra is Hanumat Niketan and so on and so forth.

I can keep writing endlessly about Alld., but u need to see it to believe me. Only somebody who has been to the city can appreciate my words. The city is sheer magic.. It has nothing to offer if you are looking for money, power or advancement, but it retains an old world charm to this date. It has all the peace, serenity and joy if you enjoy the simple things in life. The life is leisurely, a friend of mine once commented that Alld. is the city for the tireds and retireds, and I did not object. It is actually a place that offers you comfort and solace. To top it all, the people are marvellous, simply out of the world. Despite all the advancements, Allahabadis are still so naive and simple.. You will have to work really hard to find a person who could be really termed as fashionable. The language has very little English influence, you get to hear the purest possible Hindi in Alld. Even rickshaw pullers talk in pure Hindi, or probably the dialect which is more or less nice Hindi language, only made sweeter by the local interference.. It is a pleasure in itself.
Seems like this post shall keep me awake through the night.. Lemme force an abrupt ending.. will continue someother day with Allahabad II...

It is so amazing..

The most amazing things happen to me.. Probably I get fascinated by routine stuff and term it as amazing but I like to believe that I am overly intuitive. And time and again things happen to reinforce my belief. One particularly useful intuition I had was about my engagement. I always felt I would lose my engagement ring during the ceremony itself. And when it finally happened, I kept a strict eye on my ring from the moment I got it. I did lose it, but discovered my loss almost immediately. A frantic search later, we finally got it back. Needless to say, it is a prized possession, the only piece of jewellery that I wear religiously.

Today, a friend called me up, somebody I hadn't talked to since I left college. He was more of a batchmate, never really close but one of those exceptional people who make you like them immensely for no reason at all. You just cannot help liking them. And it was only yesterday that I did some googling on him, I thought of him just like that and went on to search him on orkut. And today he calls me up from out of the blue!! I was truly happy to hear from him, and the prospect of meeting him and probably a couple of more batchmates excites me to no extent. While in college I never thought much of these people but now they are all etched in memory and any mention of them takes me back to my old days.. Here.. I get more ideas to blog.. looks like tonight my family would have to go without dinner :)

Gauri..

Hi.. I have just woke up with this strange urge to blog.. am in a terrible hurry to post a blog but I guess it would be too typical of me to begin without an introduction. I often have this weird feeling of being too public.. I know it is nothing less of conceit but to be honest, I do feel that already too many people know me and those who still do not know, can do very well without knowing. Still, there are somethings which I would like to share. To begin with, I am a married woman with a small baby. The name of this post, Gauri actually belongs to my daughter. This is what I have been calling her since the moment I came to know she existed. Unfortunately, the name did not go too well with her father and immediate family who found it too old fashioned, not surprising considering the fact that they find the mother herself in dire need of an update. Gauri is no more called that, and I took the liberty of naming this blog Gauri just to satiate my urge to name something 'Gauri'. Well, thats pretty much it. I am presently a stay-at-home, bringing up my baby and in desperate need of some concrete work. This blog is intended to be a punching bag kinda thing, to help me avoid venting out my usual frustrations at my very considerate husband and my exceptionally sweet bro-in-law. Enough of introduction, lemme move to my next post:)