Author: nourishncherish

At the outset….this is a light-hearted thought on the spelling of my name, and I mean no offense to the Sowmyas of the world.

Every time I spell my name out to Indians, I always get asked: how come it is not spelt “S-o-w…”? As a child I immensely thanked my parents for spelling my name without the “Sow”. With the typical innocence of childhood, I used to explain that “sow” meant female swine, and therefore, with the gloriole of knowledge glowing bright, my parents had chosen the alternate spelling.

I can very well imagine the havoc that children could wreak on another child’s self esteem with some trivia like this! Of course, this also depends on how many children actually lay their hands on such trivia – but 1 precocious child per school could do the trick!

I can still look at my certificates – some of them with the spelling so wrong, it hardly reads like my name! I have one certificate that when translated in my daughter’s language means “Saw a cat” because it is spelt “SAW-MIYA”.

I ramble….but my point is, my name is still fun.

In so many parts of the world, the spelling of a name could be the tender line between life and death. In war-ravaged Iraq today, everybody is required to carry on them a form of national identification, called “Jinsiyas”. Apparently, the market for fake jinsiyas is thriving. For ex: Omar could mean the person belongs to the Sunni sect, while Amer could mean either Shiite or Sunni. Depending upon the checkpost where they are stopped, people know which jinsiya to brandish and live life. (Source: Newsweek July issue)

For all that hungama surrounding the release of Da Vinci Code in India, it looks there had to post a policeman to coerce people into buying tickets: so he could do his duty, and ensure the screening went smoothly!

http://www.hindu.com/2006/07/15/stories/2006071508150100.htm

I guess every year around mid-January, you can safely stop by my house to hear profranities regarding Jallikattu.

“IDIOTS!” My father would proclaim before going on to give his annual lecture on the insanity of the sport that deliberately places a human being in harm’s way. Why would non-suicidal folks deliberately stand in the way of an intoxicated bull?

At least in the past, there was a reason. The pricess’s hand would be given to the brave man who could overcome a raging bull. So, it was either marriage or a brutal injury – men weighed the odds, and decided what to do. Today, there is no princess with gleaming hope waiting for her Prince charming to tame the bull. So the morbid choices are: injury, brutal injury or death.

Every year in Pamplona, Spain these very matadors display their prowess by taking on the bulls. Despite the gory nature of the sport, I am still fine with the bulls raging against the matadors (after all the matadors have made the choice that they are willing to be gored) But why not have arenas built for them, and have bulls only run around inside the arena? At least the sadistic crowds are not injured while the masochists take on the bulls?

All I can do is sigh every time another human-being is injured in this “game”.

I saw the following placard stuck on a shopping cart of one of the numerous homeless folks in the city.

Location: Posh newly re-constructed Pier 14, San Francisco

No Drugs!
No Alcohol!
Money used for food only!!
Not lazy !!!

Now, that was an absolutely ingenuous thing to do. It got me thinking about how interesting it would be to work out the returns of this homeless person, versus the returns of the other homeless people using numerous innane placards. This could give us a feel of whether people genuinely trust or whether the stereotypes of homeless, drunk and sloshed people takes over.

As I was passing this cart, I could not but help look for the self-proclaimed “Not Lazy” owner.

I found him fast asleep using the cart to shield him from the direct glare of the sunlight!

PS: I guess a post-lunch siesta is excusable!!

I was crossing the street yesterday, when a car was pulling out from an underground garage. He did not notice us, and pulled out onto the street as we were walking. It seemed like a legitimate mistake (giving him the benefit of doubt) Imagine a person with his neck craning to gain visibility when he is peering out from the car at some place much higher than his perch. At this a man kicked the rear of the car really hard – and swore that this should teach him not to be rude!

Hmm…..if rudeness would teach a person not to be rude………

Maybe, a war on terror would terrorize terrorists into not terrorizing innocent people!

The pace at work is pretty hectic (Ours being a small company, and one of the fastest growing in our domain) By nature of their profiles, the Production support groups and DBAs are known to be high-tension jobs, since they are always required to take care of issues NOW!

So, imagine how I felt when I walk into the break room to find a member of the production support technical team staring out the window, and making a comment about the weather in San Francisco.

“It is breezier here during the day, and definitely colder in the mornings and evenings” she explains.

I nod in assent.

Soon, she continues after acknowledging my nod, that everybody outside is walking baring their skin, and life looks so pretty outside. I let out a laugh, and move towards my coffee.

Soon, a few more people walk into the break-room, and one of them even responds to her statements: “Fantastic weather isn’t it?”

To which she replies: “Yes, I really wish I could wear shorts” (Not entirely out of context, but….)
He: “Yes…that would be cool. Though the office really is cool you know”
She: “Hmm….I wonder where my white shorts are!”

Now, all of us in the room are slightly baffled! While we exchange concerned looks, she says:
“Oh ma….I really got to go. I am talking with this ear-piece on, that no-one can see, and everyone thinks I am nuts!”

THAT explains it!! Oh..for the love of technology!

Fictional piece:

Setting: Velankanni seashore in India. There is a mild breeze blowing and the tiny droplets of rain are soothing.

Reporter: Da Vinci Code-ai ban pannitaangalaamae? (Da Vinci Code has been banned. What do you think about it?)

The reporter is addressing a Christian couple headed to the local market. The lady has a basket full of fishes on her head, balancing an infant on her hips and walking briskly towards the local market with her husband bearing an equal load on his head

Man : Mariyaadhaiya pesu paa: yenna “Da” podarae? (Speak with respect. ‘DA’ being a derogatory term in Tamil)
Lady: Ayyo irunga….yedho kodai venum pol irukku (Oh wait….maybe he wants an umbrella. Kodai (Code-ai) in Tamil means Umbrella)

The reporter hastens to explain that he is neither treating the man with disrespect nor asking for an umbrella. He explains in some depth about the book authored by Dan Brown, that has been banned, while the fidgety couple glance market-ward in their worry that they may not quite make it to the local market for prime spots to sell their wares.

Lady: Ohh! Browns colour-aa? Addhaan mannu colour. Adhhukku yenna ippo? (Brown is the colour of mud. So what?)
Reporter: Ayyo…….andha Brown illai. Ivar vandhu English-la book ezhudhi irukkaru.(This Brown is an English author)
Man: AAma …….Tamil padikaave aala kaanum. Idhila English veraiya? (I can barely read Tamil, so who cares about an English book)

Couple together: Verai velai vetti illa? Kaalangaarthalae vandhittan yedho book-a patthi pesa. Boney-meeen venum-aa? (Useless fellow wasting everybody’s time in the morning. At least be the first customer to buy some fish!)

Newsitem in The Hindu dated 2nd June 2006 banning the Da Vinci Code movie from being released in Andhra Pradesh:

Dr. Reddy, sources said, was initially reluctant to support the ban. He argued that the original novel had already sold more than 60.5 million copies throughout the world and no Christian country had preferred the ban. He, however, relented when the officials cautioned him about possible law and order problems if the film was screened.

Later in a press release, Mr. Paul Bhuyan justified the stand arguing that the minority organisations had pointed out that the film’s story line attacked the very heart of the Holy Gospel destroying the divinity of Lord Jesus Christ.

It might lead to unrest among the semi-literate and illiterate rural folk following the faith, they had further warned.

The movie has been successfully released in Rome!

My husband and close friend took part in the Bay to Breakers 12K run in San Francisco. All I have to go by are their tales, and some photographs I saw in the newspapers the next day. But, by all reports, this is one hell of a race: The convention was to wear unconventional costumes, or in some cases the Emperor’s finest clothes!

I hail from a community in South India, known to treat mavericks with disdain. It tickled me pink to hold my guns for small things and watch with interest the emotions my sayings evoked. Thankfully for me, my parents just shook their heads and moved on with their lives.

“I don’t like flowers on my hair, it gives me a headache”, I would protest, to gasps from aunts hushing me into not saying these unconventional things. Imagine a girl child not liking jasmine flowers to adorn her hair? * GASP! *

Or better still: “I don’t like jewels, so please don’t me make me wear these ornaments!” *By all standards, this was the best, since South India is well-known for its jewel craze, and not liking jewellery was like a cat not liking to eat mice.*

Luckily, I only had to endure this during my school vacations. Hailing from a country, which places unnecessary onus on others opinions of us, and a tradition of blending with the populace, I must say the US was a welcome change in outlook. And to hear about people running around like this, with nary a worry about what others think!

Tut Tut!: Just wait till the oldies in my village hear about this!

The beehive boasts a sign as you approach:

DO NOT DISTURB! ANNUAL TARGETS TO BE MET!

The beehive is bustling with activity. There is a honey target to meet before the winter season sets in, and the flowers wither away. The important look and sense of purpose in the flight of every single worker bee is evident, and one would want to stay away from them to enable them to do their own work, which is fantastically co-ordinated and classically implemented by exceptionally motivated worker bees. There is the busy queen bee too, laying and hatching eggs in the hive.

Works perfectly: Queen bee lays eggs, worker bees collect nectar. Everything is hunky-dory as long as the bear doesn’t get its paws on the hive.

Now, let’s introduce Management into this setup:
There are several manager bees whose purpose in life is to ensure the worker bees reporting to them meet their targets. There are fewer Senior manager bees whose purpose in life is to ensure that the manager bees meet their target. Even fewer Director bees whose purpose is to ensure that the senior manager bees meet their targets and very few bees to directly report to the Queen bee.

Valid points in current context:
1) The worker bees already are meeting their targets, why have another bee to oversee what they are doing perfectly well? *Argument squashed.*
2) The Queen bee is really not interested in what her direct report bees report because she is busy laying eggs. *Point to be noted*

The day dawns and the worker bees bustle along as usual, collecting nectar. Only now, every hour, they have to come to the manager bee to report that things are going fine, and the nectar collection is going smoothly.
Cumulative time spent during the day reporting status and looking for manager bee: 90 minutes per bee per day.
Target: lowered to accomodate for this activity, and winter months spent with less honey for more bees.

Once all this data is noted, the manager bee speeds away to update the senior manager and the senior manager bee to the director bee and so on and so forth.
Loss of productivity: nil, since there is no contribution to nectar gathering from these bees.

One particular patch of flowers does not yield as much nectar, but the bees know to steer clear of it, till the manager bee notes this, and prods the bees to keep trying harder there. Soon, manager bee, senior manager bee and director bee visit the patch several times a day, and get more bees trying futilely to obtain nectar from this patch, when the remaining flowers waste their perfectly good nectar.

Side Effect:
The hard-working bee wants a break. Previously, he would have just dawdled on a minute longer on a favorite flower, and then gone about his own duties. But now, he sees before him a working model of a set of bees that do nothing all day except fly around looking at other bees, and soon he wants to become a manager bee. Competition sets in, the ugly head of jealousy and scheming cloud the clear vision of otherwise happy, united worker bees.

The Pandora’s box is opened.

I really like Mother’s Day and Father’s Day. Not so much for the marketing, but for the thought. One day when everybody takes a moment to think of the everyday things these wonderful people do in your life. A moment to appreciate and cherish our wonderful parents.

I was a proud mother listening to my toddler wishing me “Appy T’youuuu” multiple times on Mother’s Day. She made it special by rising with the lark to spend time with me on a Sunday morning! I would have been happier still, if she had risen around 2 hours later, but it was fun anyway – its fun as your eyes adjust to the increasingly quick maneuvres with sleep tugging at the eyelids. Have you tried adjusting the Mouse settings on the Windows operating system to show the mouse pointer trails?

Something like that: my eyes were constantly shrugging sleep and trying to follow the path of the lil one.

I tried taking a nap later, but Father and daughter were determined to get me a gift, and before I knew it, I was a happy shopper at Great Mall. A tiring day of shopping done: we were back at home and took stock of the gifts purchased.

The toddler gets a booty (balloons, clothes, shoes and accessories), the father’s wardrobe gets a facelift, and oops! The selfless mother gets another “Appy t’youuuuu” to make up for the oversight of not getting a gift!

I love being a mother.