F.Y.J.C

Bloggers block? Hellyeah.

Either Life isn't interesting enough or I'm way too busy. Fortunately its the second one this time around. I cant imagine my life being uninteresting with the chaos that its always neatly ensconced in :D

Plenty things happening though, My (little?) brothers begun (the same) junior college (as me) and its induced major bouts of nostalgia. Do they serve the same naram sada dosa? Is the same Chinese Aunty (err, Catholic Aunty who served Chinese food during lunch) there? Did the Principal use the 'Even our dustbins are pretty' phrase during this years induction as well (he did for the 2 years we were attending). Is the same South Indian Math teacher still teaching? (The answer to this was derived from a short mimicry of her expanding the expression - (m+n)^2 = eyum esquaya plus yunn esquaya the WHOLE esquayaa) p.s. no offence intended at all, she was a sweetheart. and yes, she's still there)

Given that he's attending college and has now become image conscious, my brothers taken it upon himself to look as old and mature as possible. This he feels, is best accomplished by sporting a rough-hazy-puberty-ish moustache (?) and stubble (?) as well as a rough matty, uncombed (just out of bed, is it called?) look. My mother, on the other hand is horrified at this blatant disregard for hygiene and insists he shave it off and comb his hair. (More like tame his hair). He has (and I say this in the most affectionate of tones) a mane of sharp pointy angry gruff hair that have clung to his scalp so well that I'm positive his scalp receives little or no sunshine under the foliage. I stay out of this discourse as it is in my best interest to have both like me. Which basically means I agree with both, individually in the absence of the other.

Also, much progress seems to have been made on the *ahem* ladies front. What started off as a class full of shy adolescents, has now formed into over 50 facebook friends in a few days and the mega expansion of phone numbers. Since he's lost two phone's already, currently he's on penalty time and phone-less. He was relegated to sharing my mom's phone since the past few days. In an amusing turn of events, the names that were initially labelled completely and corectly have all been condensed into alphabets. Namrata is now N, Aditya is A and Aditi is Ai :D

I'm glad though, I always wanted my brother to be a charming young man and I'm pleased (as punch?!) to see him becoming a fine young man, youthful, naughty, witty and smart.

Speaking of Nostalgia, and age 16. Its amusing to see that whenever he's talking to a boy on the phone, its in a loud, boisterous fashion, whereas if its a girl, you can barely hear his voice even if your seated by his side. Reminiscent of my childhood calls when Akshay's used to be Akruti's, Rahuls used to be Radhika's and Sahil's - Sarikas or any other girls name closest to it, for the purpose of the call :D

He's also taken to wearing smart-Alec t-shirts with slogans on them like 'If found please return to bar' and 'Beer is where the home is' and other alcohol related wisecracks, gelling his hair and generally a heightened sense of appearance. What good does it do I keep thinking, when 10 years later, your going to realize how horrible you looked at that age. I have plenty boycut-shorts and floaters-braces on teeth photos that I cringe when I look at. There's one picture of me in a sweatshirt (Chicago Bulls baby), shorts, socks and Floaters. Arghh. Someones autographed it asking me whether i was feeling hot or cold :S omg. yikes.

Memories are like a breath of fresh air, they just engulf you with their refulgent glow, enthuse you with happy pasts and suffuse your aura with pleasing hues. My favorite 'pick-me-up'

(p.s Mumbaikars will be familiar with the full form of the title of the post)

Kids say the Cutest things!

My little nephew, all of 5 years old came over this weekend. He's recently been given spectacles to rid a pesky squint, which although made him look very adorable, broke my heart at the same time spectacles at such a young age? =(

Anyway , in accordance with the sophistication and pseudo intelligence that spectacle wearing people (usually) emanate, he asked sincerely -
"Mom, should I be wearing my spectacles on the potty as well?"
My cousin is his validator for all doubts in life, guess all moms’ are. When I told him my car is faster than his, he looked at his mum with BIG sad eyes and asked 'No Na? Ours is the fastest in the world na?'

Reminds me of a few stories of my brother pre-spectacles. It started off with complaints from the class teacher that he was not completing his class work (in addition to incomplete homework), and when asked about it, he would very dramatically hold his head in pain and say 'I cant see the board' or 'My head aches', which unfortunately for him was a case of Boy who cried wolf. He seemed to have used the excuse little too often on my folks, who reprimanded him for his tardiness.
It was only my mother’s instinct that said 'What if he's telling the truth' that he got taken for tests - which indeed showed a slight number.

After which proceeded 4 days of trying to find a pair of spectacles that conformed to both the tricky conditions of socially acceptable (read: Considered Cool and hip) for my brother as well as conservative (read: No jhatak matak) for parents. Did I also mention budget? They needed to be cheap because of the frequency of replacing which was very accurately diagnosed by parents (How do they know kids so well??!). The first pair was sat on, second run over, third fell while playing football, fourth got stolen at boarding (how?!), fifth stopped being cool, sixth was left behind in the train and so on.

Having said that, he's a cutie. Working older sister situation is well and truly taken advantage of. Mom and Dad are for school fees, Uniforms, food and shelter and other such basic necessities of life. Sisters are for the more lavish extravaganzas to name a few - PSP (Playstation portable : Rs. 8,500 currently), Birthday treats (Movie at a multiplex for more than a half dozen kids with food before, after AND in between) and Nikes, Pumas among other expensive brands which parents readily replace for the more practical Power and Bata, but don’t now because they hate the "Rolling eye motion" which has been perfected from daughter to son.

I miss him. When I sent everyone in my mailing list this article, I marked a copy to him as well, since I realized he's grown up enough and has his own email id. Last evening when I spoke with him after nearly 2 months, he told me he loved it, and HE'S PROUD OF ME! My 15 year old baby brother, 9 years my junior is proud of me. And what a wonderful feeling it is.
He's due to give his boards this March -- and I wish we could be there for him during this very crucial time, Since we cant, Just gonna pray for him and hope he makes it. NDA awaits...

As I grumbled my way through having come to office on a holiday yesterday, and sitting idle waiting for someone else to finish what they were doing, so that I can begin, my thoughts naturally began to drift elsewhere.

I was thinking on the same lines, and had a half finished post about it, when I read this And it hit home, what I was thinking - melancholy thoughts in the cab on the way back from my younger brothers birthday Party, One in which I somewhat assumed the role of a Chaperone. This guy, who I took downstairs for a walk in my arms when he was a baby, and to Birthday parties after much convincing(of mom - ' i can take care of him, promise i wont drop him' and all that), feeding him mashed cake cos he didnt have teeth is ....all grown up. And so am I. So am I...

I nearly GAGGED when I said 'How old are u turning 14?' to which he very indignantly replied ' Hello! Im turning 16, Im Mature now'. He's now a pimply faced adorable young guy in his teens who pooh's at the names of girls in the building when he's teased with them (Wait another 6 months eh?)

I remember him being 4 years old and climbing on top of me, biting my nose, licking my face, messing up my book shelf. It was no surprise when one day, someone asked me Why i dont have a pet - to which I saucily replied 'Course I do - My brother'. He partook of all duties of little pets - dirtying my room, peeing on my bed, waiting ardently for me to come home, waving goodbye from the little window which overlooked my bus stop. Course he was cuter. Nothing is sweeter than hearing a tiny tot calling you 'Tai'.

Sometimes Im thankful for having such a vivid memory -- there are images which are so precious to me, which are frozen and filed in my head which send a delicious shiver down my spine when i re-think them. The image of him waving to me frm the 7th floor window for instance. He was all of 3-4 yrs old, supported at the grilled window by my mother. From where I stood, his face looked all of 12 cms in diameter with two little black buttons for eyes and a dot for a nose, and a pink jam blot for lips. I remember wanting to run back home and not going to school at all! The definition of adorable was that for me...

Course, I also enjoyed other perks such as all the older boys in the building who never took notice of me, and played basketball with me only cause they couldnt deny I was pretty decent at it, were suddenly all 'Hey wheres your brother, bring him na' and I enjoyed a momentary surge in popularity. Also, there were a few 'Bhaiyyas' i was taught to call anyone upwards of 2 yrs older than I, whom i took the liberty of calling by first name then, since I was the 'Older sister' and all that.

Cut to now, he's 16, (Mature apparently :( ) and making demands for cell phones and the likes. And suddenly my maternal glands have begun secreting extra hormones it seems cos Ive begun being extra protective, extra careful to not give in to each demands. The age gap between us (9 yrs) puts me in a quandary -- Im young enough to be a 'cool' sister, but old enough to want to tell him whats right and wrong, and be protective.

Isnt there any way I can get time to stand still? or rewind a little?

Happiness for free, anyone?

These pictures are taken en route my jogging track.. about a stones throw away from my house. Let me put things in perspective...this small area these kids are playing is reclaimed land, which used to be mangroves, to be redeveloped for a club house. There is a small fencing segregating the area these kids can play in from the jogging track-semi playground.

A look at the kids from elite South Mumbai families fortunate enough to be playing in the playground ... all of them would, needless to say be dressed in the best of clothes, most wearing the new fad among kids - crocs for footwear. (crocs cost no less than 800-1500 rs even in the kids range). All kids have their aayah's (maids) accompanying, and less than 3 feet away from them, monitoring their every move, fervently wiping dirty hands, cushioning a fall and other such activities within then realm of 'taking care of the child'. Each child has his or her own sand basket, skipping rope or some other fancy toy, swinging on dinosaur swings or the T-Rex slides... with neat little matching clips in hair, disney water bottles in short, each thing they own is monogrammed, branded or some form of exclusive.

The pictures of the kids above is from the slum nearby, who have made the Ganesh idol from mud, and worship it everyday with the accompanying music (provided by beating wooden sticks on stones and chants), dance around the idol. Been watching them since a few days, finally curiosity overcame and i hopped over and had a look at the Ganesh. The picture does not do justice to what these children have made. There are tiny flowers, buttons and other scrap adorning him... he's never left alone, always guarded by at least one child.

I am fascinated with street children. It takes sheer ingenuity, or possibly forceful circumstances to spend an hour playing with a broken rubber tyre or a few sticks and stones and be that engrossed, and happy.... I told these kids Id come give them printouts of the pictures upon which i was asked 'Aunty aap bhoologi nahi na?' (Aunty u wont forget right?), of course i cringed at the word 'Aunty' :) but whats there, my phone was tossed around 15 hands looking curiously at their pictures in it. These kids who on an average mustve been about years made for a truly Happy smile on my face.

When i first asked if i could take a pictue, they were a little skeptical... after all how many of us 'rich people' really bother to take notice and even spend a minute asking them their names, let alone taking pictures. Initial cynicism once surpassed, they were more than happy to pile into a photo and give me bigg grins.

It saddens me... these children are exposed to the other children in the park.. with their expensive clothes and fancy waterbottles and playing on colourful swing sets. How do you tell a four - five year old child that those swings are out of bounds? Your not allowed to swing because u live in the slum? would he even understand what rich and poor is?

Having said that, these children are content with their rubber typre hung off a tree. I didnt see a Single face looking at the park with the other children wishing he or she could be there, and for that Im glad.

Stop growing up!!!!

Among a few things bugging me right now - last night on my very enthusiastic attempt to return-to-gym-regularly I saw a little boy working out. Getting all agitated over what a kid that small is doing his gym I went and asked him how old he is. Turns out he is 13. must be about four foot something tall and one of those extremely chubby boys whose cheeks you want to pull. This kid was doing weights, like an adult with gym gloves and what not. I actually went and told him he shouldn’t be working out and playing instead. And I got a very affected “im grown up now, and I need to lose weight and tone up” response.

What really bugged me was that kids today are entering all the spectra of life which should infact be occupied only by adults. A month ago there was an article in the paper speaking (very proudly) about a new beauty salon for kid’s aged up to 12/15 im not sure. This salon has posh facilities and does all the services a regular parlor would do - blow drying hair, streaking, wash, haircuts etc.

Just what we needed. Kids to start obsessing about straightening their hair and getting David Beckham hair cuts from age 6. As if Television hadn’t caused enough damage.

Also, you enter places like Polly Esther (which used to be my FAV Fri. night place cos they played retro) or RA or Red Light and its full of these 15-17 something year old girls and boys dressed like they’re 25 smoking and drinking. The advice I want to give them I wont mention here cos it would make me sound like a complete aunty. No offence to any aunties :)

As a kid I remember racing out of the house the minute I had any free time. TV according to me was a waste of time, not a luxury. Between school, sports and reading books I dint have time for much else. Fast forward to today - I have a sibling many years younger, and it worries me that kids as old as 6-8 years old have their own ipod’s in my building. Recently one girl threw her birthday party in the Eros Mini theatre. Her back presents were DVD’s. Seriously. They aren’t kids anymore - they’re little adults.
I hate that. I enjoyed being a kid well into my teens and still very proudly preserve large parts of it. Its some thing I told my brother - u have all your life to be an adult, but only these few years to be a kid! Don’t hasten the process.

The last straw came when we were at a family outing at the club, and I happen to love the swings there - always have. So I tell my brother well go sit and he looks at me incredulously and says “Tai, im not a kid anymore” like I had asked him the most absurd thing. My heart broke right there. A) for all the reasons ive listed above and B) I dint ever want my baby brother to grow up. He’s 14 now, and I insist on treating him like he’s 9. Now he’s begun to be ok with it only cos he get’s so many freebies. Poor me. :(

Anyway - to shift from the topic and since the venting is done with - I suffered a HUGE blow to my ego last night which I must put down here only so that the public acceptance/embarrassment will motivate me to set things right. Since a gap of 2 months at gym last night I had a horrible time getting through my workout - had to reduce reps and poundage and felt utterly disappointed. There was a time when people would envy my workout. Last night was horrible. And the weighing scale says +2. :( Result of my own actions no doubt.
So here it is - exactly 3 months from today, on the 10th of Nov is when I have to post back and I have to have gained what I think in my mind is my form and exceeded my previous workout limits. The “Else” part of this statement I can’t come up with.

Think last night and writing about it now is inspiration enough.