Month: December 2006

I am not a huge fan of movies. Every once in a while, a movie comes along, that brings about the following conversation in our household:

Man of the house: Saumya…..I’ve played the movie. Could you come and watch it?
Self: I can see it from the kitchen, while I am loading the dishwasher.
The titles start, and the man of the house glimpses in my direction, and he cannot even see me, so, how could I be watching a movie?: Can you come here now?
Unfazed, I reply that I can hear the conversation while wiping the floor.
Man of the house: GRRRRRRRRRR….No, this time you are coming here and watching it properly.
Self: What’s the BIG Deal??? I don’t enjoy movies as much as you do – so you go ahead, I’ll join you in a moment.
10 minutes later, the tone hints on exasperation: For heaven’s sake, come here, and watch the movie.
Self: Okay, okay…am almost done. I just have to <insert 6 totally unrelated, mundane task list here>


It is at this point in the proceedings when you can see a grown man pull a grown woman from the kitchen, and switch off the kitchen light. The grown man then follows aforementioned grown woman closely to ensure no u-turns are taken, and plays the movie. Usually, I sulk for the first few minutes before getting immersed in the movie. Invariably, I end the movie by thanking him for making me watch the movie. You see, my husband undertakes great pains to select movies I like and am sure to enjoy. I really appreciate that – I really do! He not only knows my taste, he actually makes me enjoy my life.

After scene above was enacted successfully on Friday night, we sat down to watch Al Gore’s documentary: An Inconvenient Truth.

Let me just say this: my thought process has been altered. I don’t think I see the world with the same eyes anymore. To those of you who have not yet seen this movie, please do so as soon as possible.

We owe it to ourselves, and our children.

The headline screamed in the fertile districts of Trichy and Thanjavur as a wedding took place between the Beautiful Girl & the Naughty Boy. In what has been termed a Made-for-each-other match, the beautiful girl and the naughty boy have remain wedded to each other for over 36 years. The Naughty boy still retains his boyish charm while playing peekaboo with the beautiful girl who stole his heart eons ago.

To those wondering about the context of the post: here is some light.

My father, being the fun-loving guy, was given the title of “Naughty Boy” this morning. At about the same time that he was gloating about his new title, my daughter proclaimed that my mother is a “Beautiful Girl“. And that is the story of love between the Naughty boy & the Beautiful girl. My daughter loves playing peekaboo with her grand-parents. So, now I envision them youngsters (chinnan jirusugal) playing Peekaboo at home. It is the beautiful girl’s job responsibility to tag the little minx along, while looking for the naughty boy in hiding.

After all these years – a headline that resounds true!

I am at training. The building nearby has lots of windows facing mine, and every now and then, I end up looking at the slides of the presentation passing up the interesting insights I’ve gathered by looking at the neighbouring offices. I have the information, that no amount of HR effectiveness can gather.

For example, I now know that the bearded bloke in the office on the 14th floor, and endowed with a window office drinks too much coffee. He needs to cut the caffeine. I saw him drink 3 cups in the afternoon yesterday. I pardoned him thinking it must have been a stressful afternoon. Now, he is already on the second cup – that is way too much!

The attractive lady in the office next to the bearded bloke has a fantastically decorated officespace. Now, you know where her time and energy is going. I even saw her tidy up her desk this morning.

There is another person who keeps glancing to the right wall while working. I am not suggesting there is a television hosted there. It might well be strategic acquisition plans or telephone numbers. But even though, I tried cocking my head to 33 degrees, and increasing the height of my chair to catch a better snapshot, it is a bit hard. So, I am going to go with the Television idea. OR I could brand her a narcissist in my mind, and assume a mirror filling the right wall.

The office above the bearded bloke and the attractive lady has been empty for 2 days in a row. What sort of employee takes time off during the holiday season – huh? huh? huh???

Gosh……I really need to be paid for stuff like this.

What a paradox that ‘Candy’ and ‘Candor’ sound so similar, yet mean entirely different things. In fact, could there be such a thing as Candid Candy? Interestingly, these two words are etymologically different. Candy traces its origins to the French word, ‘Candi’ and the Arabic ‘Qandi’ made from crystallised sugar ‘Qand’. Maybe that is the origin of names for the Indian sweet Kalakhand too.

Candor, on the other hand also traces its origin to French – ‘Candeur’ and Latin ‘Candor’. Candor implies the absence of sugar-coating, or an honest opinion.

While I value candor, I love candy, and I need both in my life.

Yesterday, as I made my entry into the station, I stumbled upon a former colleague. It has been around half a decade since we had seen each other, and the hour’s journey was not sufficient to catch up. As we were chatting about what happened to various people’s lives, I realised that the particular project we had been colleagues in, was different in many ways. First, it was pulled through against enormous odds and second, most of us were practically living at the Bangalore office for almost 2 years!

So, when I did start talking about the various folks from the project, and the paths each had taken along life, it was certainly interesting. Much like pollen, we had scattered to various corners of the globe, and I suddenly realised that the only thing I remembered about folks were the good qualities in them. The friendly chatter, the kind hearted, the selfless. I am sure that there would have been unpleasant qualities that I’d have cribbed about when I was “in” the situation. As time passed however, only the happy moments stayed.

Though I have not stayed in touch with many them, there have been many a moment when I have thought about each of them. I am sure the converse is true, and the thought that I can go to some of them any time I need to, is comforting enough.

I stepped out of the train, and a person was looking at me intently, before hesitantly asking me whether I was working in Company ‘X’ 7 years ago. I nodded and found that he was the project mate of my best friend.

Well….well!