It hurts to part..

 The feeling of emptiness when an enriching, warm, long-running engagement ends is so depressing. I finished Pachinko today - my first book of this year, and I am already missing it so bad. It was a long book and I have spent many wonderful hours with it. Some experiences have this quality of haunting you long after they get over. I am thinking of some other times when it hurt to part. 

1. Books: Atlas Shrugged, Totto chan, A suitable boy. 

2. TV series: Big Bang theory, Friends

3. Places:  Most places where I have spent a considerable time - my two homes in Allahabad, my apartment in Joka, my home for 4 years in Bangalore, my apartment in Hyderabad. Strangely, the 8 days spent in Udaipur + neighbouring places continue to haunt me. 

4. Workplaces: I only felt this for my last software company, Yodlee(now Envestnet) and my last company, Medtronic. Of course, I spent my longest time working in these two. And my school which I had attended for 14 years. Didn't feel much for either colleges. 

These are just off the top of my head, and heavily tainted with recency bias. Starting a new book tonight to ease the misery. So long!

Growing old together..

..in a marriage is undeniably overrated. I think it is far more important to grow happy together. It needs to be acknowledged that the lack of happiness is unhappiness. When we stop being happy together, growing old together just translates into two miserable people waiting for their respective lives to end.

An agreement without definite timelines is as good as void. Till death do us apart is not a timeline. May be, in the earlier times, when human lifetimes were less than 50 years, and days were only as long as the daylight. Not any more. 

A commitment made at 22 should not be binding at 42. Humans grow and evolve continuously. It is an insult to human intellect to presume that 2 people think and feel the same way over a lifetime of 75 years. 

It is said that all the cells in the human body are renewed over a period of 7 years. This means that effectively, we do not share a single cell with our own self from 7 years ago. It think 7 years is a good time to review and renew the contract of marriage. Or annul!

My affair with K-dramas..

 ..started during the COVID lockdown. I had been hearing exciting things about Korean entertainment for a while, and the lockdown gave us ample opportunity to sample new stuff. Funnily, we started K-dramas as a family and the husband enjoyed it more than anyone else. However, he got over it fairly quickly while Pari and I got hooked to them. Here's what I have watched so far with my quick comments and ratings. I will try to list them in the order in which we watched them, as far as I can remember.

1. What's wrong with Secretary Kim?: The first drama we watched and which made us K-drama fans. Not much of a story, but a feel-good romance with lot of fun moments. 4/5

2. Crash landing on you: Commonly known as CLOY, this is amongst the most  successful k-dramas of all times. Really, it was absolutely perfect in all aspects - interesting story, tender romance, situational comedy, suspense, fast-pace action, superb performances, great background score, stunning visuals and chemistry. 10/5

3. Its okay to be not okay: Again, a phenomenal drama. All the things that I said about CLOY above stand true for this one as well. It is an exceptional work on human feelings, love, insecurities and trauma with a fairy tale feel. 5/5

4. Memories of Alhambra: I chose to watch this because I just couldn't get enough of Hyun bin after CLOY. The first couple of episodes were dreamy and I imagined this soon becoming my new obsession. A crackling chemistry between two good looking people, sights of Granada, and the enigma of Alhambra.. what is there to not like! However, it soon ventured into virtual territories, where the lined between reality and perception became blurred. The following episodes didn't work for me despite trying real hard and I gave up on this halfway. 3/5

5. Romance is a bonus book: A warm, comforting drama. Again, the lead pair were really great looking - I think the actress is the prettiest in all k-dramas that I have seen. 4/5

Alright, this post is getting really long. I haven't even watched my k-dramas tonight. My mother often scolds me for staying up late at night watching TV, and I tell her - mujhe apne Korean heroes ko dekhe bina neend nahi aati hain(I can't sleep without watching my Korean heroes). So long!

Mumbai winters..

 Mumbai gets really pleasant in winters. Winters here are defined as the period from mid-Nov to mid-Feb, when the days become shorter with the sun setting in before 6 pm, and the temperatures plummet to 18-24 degree celsius in the evening. In our 10.5 years stay here, we are yet to experience sub-20 degree temperatures. I would imagine those low temperatures would be recorded in the less populated, less polluted places, not Andheri. 

Having spent the first 20 years of our lives in Uttar Pradesh - Delhi, Kanpur & Allahabad, 20 degrees doesn't even begin to define winters for us. It doesn't motivate us to pull out our basic windcheater from the cupboard, much less our sweaters from the boxes under the bed. 'We' refers to the husband and myself here. Pari is a Mumbai kid. We haven't seen her without a jacket or hoodie since November, while we continue to wear short/no sleeves and shorts. Also, this child sleeps under a stuffed duvet 6 months an year. For years, we have sniggered at folks who show up in warm clothes in the society park or at work. Soon, I see us lighting a bonfire to keep our shivering offspring warm during the bone-chilling Mumbai winters. Karma is for real!

Of exceptional muscle memory..

I am a naturally lean person, averse to any physical activity. I would, therefore, imagine myself having very little muscle mass. Irrespective, my muscle memory appears to be really active and sharp. Every muscle remembers every ache, every workout long after I have forgotten the routine and the gym instructor has forgotten my name. I know that I really need to do something about my creaking joints and stiffening limbs if I intend to rely on them for the second half of my life, the question is how!

Of Twister and unyielding limbs

Twister is an old favorite in our home. The game is fun to play, and funnier to watch. We have pictures of friends and family, including my dear mother in various contorted positions in desperate attempts to stay on the twister mat and thereby, in the game. I remember catching hilarious(to the spectators, not necessarily to the subject) falls and tumbles on camera as well. 

When our friends suggested playing twister during the New year's party, I was quick to raise my hand. The three of us - Pari, DH and I were invited to play a game together. 3 moves in, I pulled my thigh muscle and retired immediately due to the intense pain. I felt embarrassed for quitting so soon and tried to massage my thigh to ease the pain, which felt unbearable and had me gasping for breath. I somehow waited for the DH to finish the game(which he eventually won against my gutsy kid) and return to help me. In the 3 minutes that lapsed, I had started feeling dizzy. The host offered a pain spray which we gratefully accepted and made our way to the bedroom for application. The next I know is the DH holding me and calling out my name loud, to wake me up from what felt like deep sleep. I had passed out from the pain on the way to the bedroom! On gaining consciousness,  I lay down in the bed for a while, still feeling faint, and my ears ringing so strongly that I could barely hear anything else. It took a good 20 min for the pain to subside and for me to become alert again. 

Effectively, the first thing I did this year was to faint before friends, family and a dozen strangers. 

Because we need a post everyday..

 ..even when I have no ideas or will to write, I will dig up a really old draft and make do with it. I had written this prior to living the last 1/3rd duration of my life. It is a complete post which never got posted for reasons I can't remember - perhaps I just felt too self-conscious to post it. No such hang-ups now. I take it as an opportunity to look back at my much younger self and smile!

3.2.2009

Life just keeps getting stranger.. wonder when I would know it all. My best laid plans go awry in such disappointing ways, and completely unexpected things turn so joyous. Last night was such a time, the latter one that is. It was our anniversary, and disheartened by the way the first two went off, I had no plans at all for this one. The day started early, unintentionally because we slept after midnight. I went to bed around 11.30pm and was trying to put the baby to sleep when the husband pulled out this little bag from the cupboard. It is his first gift to me since our wedding. I don't count the baby as a gift from him since she is shared by us and the rest of the family, and wasn't intentional to begin with. Well, I want a pair of platinum earrings much much more, but can do with a solitaire this time.

14 years later, that diamond pendant remains the only expensive, befitting-a-spouse gift that I have received from the husband. I certainly didn't imagine this at the time of writing the original post. I recall that at some point in our marriage, we just realized that exchanging gifts is an overhead which involves too much effort without commensurate returns in terms of satisfaction or happiness. We simply decided to discontinue the practice. We buy whatever we like, whenever we like for ourselves, without waiting for occasions or for each other. In summary, we have decommercialized our life events and it has served us well. 

The baby refusing to sleep that night, still refuses to sleep at a decent hour. However, we are not bothered by that anymore. She has an assortment of personal devices for company. And we no longer share a bedroom, bed or bedtime!

My fascination with platinum has declined in tandem with the decline in its price against gold. It is no longer perceived as the most expensive, exclusive, rare metal available for jewellery, and I no longer desire more of it. For the record, I have already passed on my platinum chain and regular-wear diamond pendants to Pari that she wears with pride.  

I have more diamonds and a bigger solitaire now, but none of it has been purchased by me. This is something that hasn't changed since. I continue to believe that I possess enough jewellery and only greed, not need can justify buying anymore. I still don't buy any jewellery except as gifts for others.  

Welcoming the new year..

I want to do something creative in the last week of this year which can be used to segue into the next year on a high note. Writing a post every day for the next 30 days appears to be the simplest. It will also be an opportunity for me to finish the drafts that lay ignored for the longest time. As always, I will be drawing heavily on the inexhaustible fountain of wisdom, manifested as children in our family - Pari, my nephews and nieces. For today's post, allow me to make an exception and source my information and entertainment from the weekend's newspaper. Here is an excerpt of an interview with Charles Shobhraj from the Indian Express.

An absolutely informative and insightful read! Who could be a better judge of prison conditions across the world than a career criminal of international repute! I hope the readers of Indian Express, particularly those contemplating a stint in international crime, have filed the article for future reference. It sure will come in handy during their recce of potential crime locations. 

No means..

..'No'. Not when it comes to my mother though. Sample this:

At the dinner table
Mom: 'Shall I get you a second helping?'
Me: 'No'
Mom: 'Alright.' <Proceeds to add more food to my plate>
Me: 'No Mom, I am full.'
Mom: 'Alright, just finish this. I won't give you anymore.'
<What just happened? I obviously finish off the second helping.>

Me sitting content on the couch
Mom: 'The cushions need to be washed.'
Me: 'No. I had them washed a couple of weeks ago.'
Mom: 'Alright.' <Proceeds to pull out the cushions from under me and around me, ripping off the covers and placing the bare cushions back on the couch. The covers obviously go into the wash.>

Me leaving for work
Mom: 'Shall I pack a snack for the evening?'
Me: 'No. I will be back by 6.'
Mom: 'Alright.'
<On the way to work, the lunch bag feels heavier than usual. I check it to find 2 additional boxes of snacks. Gah!>

I can go on and on here.

Please Mumma, 'No' really means 'No'!

Of modesty and saving the family's honor..

Cousin E is visiting. We pick her from the airport and on the way back home agree that the weather is far too pleasant to be spent indoors. And so we decide to spend the day shopping - in a mall, where else! Allow me to skip the irony of it all. We reach home, drop the bags and E gets dressed. She swaps her travel clothes -  t-shirt, trousers and jacket for a ripped jeans and an off-shoulder + cold-shoulder crop top. Pari is scandalised, to say the least. She makes a big hue and cry about the dress. We try to calm her down while hyperventilating ourselves. A compromise is struck - the ripped jeans is exchanged for a normal untorn albeit skinny alternative, but the crop top stays. Pari wonders aloud as to what keeps it from falling off, and evaluates at length, the chances and consequences of such a malfunction. Thats when I start getting worried, but E assures us that the top is held firmly in place by her contours and trustworthy elastic.

As soon as we step out of the car, and even before we can enter the mall, Pari is overwhelmed with shame and concern for E mausi. In a futile effort to cover E's exposed belly, she starts pulling down the by now famous crop top, subjecting E to a real danger of undress should the elastic give way. We take great pains to explain to her that it is alright to expose some belly, and even Nani does it when she wears a Sari. I think more than the explanation, what forces her to let go is the sight of many more women wearing similar or worse clothes - ripped jeans and crop top does seem to be the flavor of the season. We are in the Zara store when Pari whispers to me, pretty loudly for a whisper - 'Mumma, this woman's jeans is even more torn than E's!' Fortunately, many women in the store are wearing torn jeans and are too busy shopping for more distressed clothes to  pay attention to a child's honest opinion.

The following day is a lot of fun - E dresses appropriately in shirt and shorts, eats pasta and plays house and monopoly with Pari all day. She leaves in the evening. As we tidy up the house and get ready for bed, Pari walks up to me.
P: Mumma, I will never ever wear clothes like E.
Moi: Hmm.. alright.
P: Torn clothes are so disgusting.
M: OK
P: (Still hurt and needing to vent) E wears such clothes, other people can see her organs!
M: (Aghast! She is taking it just too far)Organs?? Which organs did you see? You can see her skin, but you can't see her organs unless you have an X-ray vision.
P: Yes, skin is our largest organ.
M: (Appropriately quietened.. thinking of a response which just doesn't come! Finally, I manage to mutter under my breath) Baby.. I only hope you keep thinking like that through the next 20 years!

This post is recorded for training purposes and future use. It will be pulled out for reference the moment I see Pari wearing anything that can potentially expose any of her organs.

The 'Art' of living

Last year, I attended a couple of 'Art of Living' programs - more on the insistence of a fellow colleague than becuase of any real interest. S, my colleague and friend is an active AOL volunteer, and she literally dragged me to the 'Sahaj Samadhi' program. I liked the meditation techniques and it was a weekend well spent. I even practised the meditation for a couple of weeks after the initial training. S then enrolled me in the basic program which is called the 'Happiness Program'. Now, this is where they teach the famous breathing techniques and also dole out some general gyan. To me, the gyan was superfluous, I have acquired enough during my stay on the planet to qualify as an AOL teacher myself. And the breathing exercises tired me out. My allergies often lead to labored breathing and I somehow manage to inhale/exhale just about enough air to survive. It is really too much to expect controlled & patterned breathing from me. So long story short, the Happiness program didn't make me too happy. Alright, there were some funny moments, like the instance when the instructor advised me to join the 'YES' program - designed for 13-18 yo's. Yes.. despite the crow feet, the sagging skin and the occasional gray! I had to politely decline and inform that I am bit mature for that, by a factor of 2. My tryst with AOL pretty much ended with the Happiness program, and I didn't attend any further programs or follow up sessions.

Today, after a really long break, I went back for a morning follow up session - which was focussed(not again!) on the breathing techniques. It was difficult, but I decided to not try too hard and just do what I can. My eyes were shut all through, so I have no idea if the instructor noticed me cutting a slack. After the exercises, we were asked to lie down and look into our internal selves. I groped my yoga mat to determine the edges, ensured that my limbs don't run off it and reclined. After a while, I kid you not - I felt a surge of energy in my head. I clearly felt bright and warm, and it only continued to get brighter and warmer. It was like achieving some kind of higher consciousness - what do we know, this was absolutely my first experience. I basked in the light and warmth of my elevated self. After what felt like an eternity, we were finally asked to sit up. I opened my eyes to discover that the sun had come up in the time that I worked on my breathing and self-analysis, and light was falling directly on my face. So much for the enlightenment!

In any case, the session got over and we were briefed about the upcoming programs. One of them was customised for kids, and the coordinator asked me if I would like to enrol Pari for it. I have absolutely no intention of sending her for any of it. Also, Pari will be off for her summer vacations on those dates, and so it was easy for me to turn down the offer. However, when I returned home, I asked Pari, mostly in jest and slightly out of curiousity, if she would like to attend the AOL session. My child, clear-headed as always, responded - 'I don't need it Mumma.. I am already happy!'. These days, I often find myself torn between having an achiever kid and a happy child. Apparently, we are doing well in at least one of the departments.

  

Pari'ism 6-12-2016

This happened last Dec, and the post is pulled from the drafts.

I purchase a piano and it gets delivered to our home. Pari is overly excited about it and jumping off the walls. She tends to get excited over anything and everything that is new and that doesn't concern her. Thankfully, the excitement lasts only until the novelty wears off, which depending on the object varies from a couple of minutes to a couple of days. Coming back to the piano, we somehow manage to squeeze the instrument in our guest bedroom, sandwich it between the dressing table and the bed, post which the technicians' proceed to respectfully unwrap it. Pari obviously doesn't leave its side for one moment. My almost 10 yo observes the unwrapping with the anticipation and curiousity of a 3 yo who may well be about to witness the biggest marvel of life. The covers are taken off, and the sight of an actual piano at such close quarters makes the child delirious. She takes one good look at it and joyfully proclaims - "Mumma, look -- our piano has a brake and an accelerator. Just like the car, it has a clutch too!"  Pari has seen grand pianos before, but apparently, this is the first time that she notices the pedals.

Later in the day, she places her casio keyboard on the stool and shoves it under the piano. I am summoned again - "Mumma, good news: our piano has a baby now". We are raising a stand-up comedian, me thinks!

Starting something new..

Pari had a field visit recently, and returned home particulary tired. One may assume that the fatigue was due to going through an eventful day on a near empty stomach. As a matter of principle, she doesn't touch any food that is offered  by the organisers on such trips- which, to most kids is very enticing, but doesn't appeal to our child. However, when has lack of nourishment bothered the apple of our collective eyes. She was wornout because she had been making notes on all the things that she saw in the museum so that she can continue to refer to her diary whenever she forgot any of it. My immediate reaction was to tell her that it is alright for people to forget things that they see in museums - particularly because many museums house more objects that one can possibly see in a day, let alone remember. The British Museum boasts of 8 million objects, though only 1% objects are on display at a given time. That is still a LOT! Also, isn't it more fun just enjoying the museum than documenting it?

I am not sure how much of what I said made way into Pari's head, but it did remind me of my younger self on a South India trip way back in 1994. It was family trip - with a motley group -12 people from 4 diff places in groups of 3 who had all congregated in Hyderabad for summers. We had all gathered for my cousin's birthday, and got bored of staying home which is why my aunt had to organise this trip from us. We travelled for about 10 days visiting Bangalore, Ooty & Mysore and I remember myself taking copious notes all through - because just like Pari, I didn't want to forget any of it. Also, like Pari, I wanted to carry my notes back to Allahabad so that my parents & siblings could enjoy my travels vicariously. Little did we know then, that in not-so-distant future South India would become home to me, and we will all get to spend months and years in Bangalore! Nevertheless, I am thinking of chronicling my travel experiences once again and start a travel diary on the blog. Which means that I will need to start taking pictures, and decent ones at that of the places I visit. This is sounding a tad ambitious at this point, but let me not give up without trying. On that note, I am ready to relive Angkor Wat.. tomorrow!

Letting go..

At some point in life, we all learn to let go of things, loosen our hold on stuff.. it is 'when we learn' that makes all the difference. For some it comes naturally, a lesson learned early in life, while for others the wisdom dawns a tad late. There exists a third set too, the unfortunate ones who go before they get to let go. And then there are people who learn their lessons, forget them and then learn again, only to forget again, very conveniently at the slightest temptation. I belong to the incorrigible lot.

When did I let go? Lot of times actually. I had let go when I decided to have Pari. Again, when I quit my job to bring her up. I had let go when I finally put her in a daycare. And when I left my home and my family to come to Joka. Letting go doesn't come easily to me. But I have done it so many times.. I can certainly do it once again. I just wish it doesn't hurt so much. Actually, it shouldn't. After all, letting go of one thing is the only way to free ourselves to catch hold of something else.. something new and more meaningful, hopefully happier too.

TV tales

We are a very TV loving family. Our parents - mine, husband's and now the child's are all big time TV-watchers. However, there is a difference here. My parents & parents-in-law have 3 television sets each in their houses with 6 & 3 members(2 after my sister moved out) respectively, while we have just 1 set with 4 people.  To our credit, we manage this abysmal TV:viewers ratio fairly well. Firstly, we supplement it with our 4 laptops. Also, fortunately, the timings are different for us. The child watches from 3.15(or as soon as she arrives from school) until 7.00 pm(or as soon as I reach home). The husband comes in by 8.00 pm and watches tv until 10.30 pm, which is when my sister returns from work, and takes over the control(remote). I don't get much of a window, and therefore prefer to stream and watch TV on my laptop. Yes, we are a cooperative bunch!

Coming to content, Pari, like her Dad, loves to watch pretty much anything as long as it is on the TV. Presently she is hooked to the Shiva cartoon. Last week, I just casually asked her about it, and she spent about 45 min just narrating Shiva's special powers. As much as I like hearing her talk, I got really bored after the first 3 min, at which point I switched off mentally and just pretended to listen to her. You know kids.. they don't really understand that tv shows are only enjoyable when you actually watch them, not when a 9 year old retells them. This brings me to last night's episode. We got in the bed really early, all set to sleep. 5 min in the bed, I started giggling. The husband asked me to share the fun.. BIG MISTAKE on his part! I had remembered this funny episode from the old show Dharma & Greg(am currently watching the entire series)..  and so went on to relate the entire episode, punch lines et al! The man had to literally ask me to stop, and allow the two of us some sleep. This morning, while driving to work, my mind wandered off to last night and thinking of this incident made me feel really foolish and worse still, so puerile. Then I thought somemore, and suddenly remembered the time when the husband had narrated an entire episode of Bhabhiji Ghar par hain  to me. This was about a couple of months back, when we used to regularly watch the show, and I had missed that particular telecast. I immediately started to feel so much better, and absolved of all guilt. I am not juvenile, we just happen to be a family of storytellers!

Blame it on the genes..

I return home early from work, and am feeling particularly benevolent. The sight of Pari watching the TV with her nose touching the screen doesn't perturb me, and I pick up small talk with her.

Me: Pari, how was your day at school baby?

Pari: It was awesome, Mumma. We got gulab jamuns for dessert in lunch. And you know, they served poori-bhaji in the breakfast! I ate 2 pooris.(Pari is obviously much delighted, and the memories of poori's & gulab jamuns seem to tickle her tastebuds.. she makes a slurping sound and goes back to watching TV.)

Me: uh.. OK.

Pari is served breakfast and lunch in her school, and as much as I dislike the school, look down on the standard of education, and resent the lack of discipline and the quality of the teaching staff - the child-friendly meals and the proximity of the school to our house keeps me from doing anything about it. 4 years on, I still remember Pari's excitement on discovering that her new school provides food, and good one at that. At the end of the first day, she had exclaimed --'Mumma, is this a school or a restaurant?' The excitement is yet to wear off..

So, we digress.. Soon after, the husband arrives from work. I recall that he had mentioned something about a meeting today, and ask the rhetorical question once again..

Me: Hey, how was your day? How did your meeting go?

Husband: Oh.. it was a long day. Aur kya faltu meeting thi.. ek dum thande samose aaye tha, aur peeli -dheeli jalebiyaan thi. Mumbai me logon ko karaari jalebi banana kabhi nahi aayega!*

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

*Translation: It was a useless meeting. The savories were not fresh, and the sweet was not good. They can never learn to make crisp jalebi's(sweets) in Mumbai.

Joka Diary : 11

It is late, very very late for this post. I am writing it only because I am a woman true to her word, and one who keeps her promises. Plenty of water has flown under bridges across the world, since we last met. I somehow scraped through the last term, left for Alld. on 15th, the day the exams got over-- missing the farewell party, spent a glorious fortnight eating, sleeping and eating again, returned to Joka on 30th for the convocation rehearsal and finally convocated on April 2nd, in the august presence of my mom,daughter, husband and his grandparents. It was rather heartening -- 4 generations gathered to witness my 5 secs claim to glory. We left for Delhi the following day after some frantic last minute packing and couriering of stuff. Delhi was fun, with Pari not being around I could cuddle, kiss and play with our very amiable Chia to my heart's content. All good things come to an end, and so did my days of being totally jobless when I landed in Mumbai on 8th to join my new workplace. Yes.. all my Mumbai readers, friends and fans-- please do a chicken dance to celebrate my arrival! I am sure you are all elated and finding it hard to believe your good fortune. Also, if any of you could host us for a week or two, till we find an affordable, decent accomodation, please do not hesitate in approaching us. In case you haven't guessed till now-- WE ARE DESPERATE!!
This post is slated to be my last post under the title, and so, now on we shall talk about and only about my experience in Joka. It has been an enriching and meaningful year for me. I have enjoyed every single day that I have spent there. My only regret is that it passed just too soon. I enjoyed my stay there, in our lush green, pollution-free campus, and my bicycle rides to the college. I enjoyed the food in Bapi Da's mess except for when they made the rajma-parantha-baigan combo. I enjoyed the classes, the animated discussions, lectures, presentations and even the exams. I enjoyed our late evening excursions to Behala, Thakurpukur and Gennex. Probably because I was so out-of-touch with the real world for the last 5 years or so, I found tremendous value in the course, and I think I got my money's worth better than the others, only because I was so clueless and ignorant to begin with! The rest of the class was already quite knowledgable and well-read, and I think I am extremely privileged to have shared a classroom with them. Yes, most of all, I enjoyed the terrific classmates that I had, such bright and sharp people. Initially I did feel uncomfortable as the only person who knew nothing of the world around, but slowly we accepted each other-- I accepted their brilliance, and they, my lack of it. Overall, it was a great group and I think I learnt even more from my peers than my profs. So long Joka, I am going to miss you!

Joka Diary - 8

This might be a short post, depending on when the cab turns up. I am going to Europe on a short study tour. So going forward, the title would temporarily read as 'Europe Diary', that is if I write at all! Study tour is a complete misnomer, the schedule provided by the college doesn't show any studies, and neither do we intend to do any. So it is basically going to be a vacation in the midst of our MBA course.

To say that I am excited is an understatement. I am that, and more. To be honest, I am petrified, so darn scared that I have tidied up my flat just in case I don't return and they need to break in. I have said my goodbyes to family and friends, and to Pari and Chia. No, I don't think I dying, not so soon in any case, but I fear getting lost and stranded. We are a group of 20 people traveling to Dubai from Kolkata, and to London from there on. It is me and 19 men. I hope that at least one of them remembers that I exist. Once in the flight, I will start worrying about dying from hypothermia and catching pneumonia. A girl has every right to fear for her life and well-being.

On the brighter side, the husband was here for the last 5 days. We spent a lot of quality time together - shopping, eating and more shopping. So well, it wasn't just time that we spent, a lot of money went down the drain as well. To give some credit to self, for once, I have tried to act unlike myself, which means sensible. I have made all the effort to not get carried away, trying to restrict my shopping to essentials, keeping the baggage allowance in mind all the time. Pat on the back!

Alright, the cab is here. You take care and stay good. I will try to do the same. So long!

And just when you are about to give up on life..

...it rains. It drizzles and it pours.. and then drizzles some more! As the heavens open up, the world suddenly turns into this beautiful place and life is once again, a bliss. That I am totally smitten with the rains is no secret, and the love just grows. I lusted after the rains in Allahabad, mushed over them in Bangalore as well, but I am totally floored by the rain in Joka. Less than a day into the monsoons, the campus has already turned a shiny green, what with all the moisture glistening over the leaves. The freshly-bathed frogs are holding concerts at their chosen venues, many of which happen to be by the lake-side, and the ripples in the lake(or is it the fishes beneath?) dance in unison. Isn't it serendipitous that our classes got over by 1.30 today, unlike usual days when we stretch till 5.30? Alright, here is my favorite rain song. Which is yours?

Waiting to get back..

A member of my erstwhile team pings me on gtalk. After an exchange of usual pleasantries, he says he often has this urge to ping me when he sees me online. I ask him why, and he says- 'I keep forgetting that you have left. Whenever I see you online, I tend to think that you are working from home.' Its been over a month since I quit the company!

One of my classmates turns up for classes in full formal dressing, and a dash of makeup. I get a little nervous and check with her if there are any presentations today, since I haven't prepared anything. She replies with a sad smile - 'No. I was missing my office.'

Corporate life isn't all that bad, what say?