Nourish-n-Cherish

Every so often, I try to answer this philosophical question. You are in a conference and you stare at the brilliant radiance eminating from the shiny baldness of the speaker. The eminent guy is throwing jargon around like hailstones. You can start firing off your questions rightaway.

Self: What does the 3rd word in your previous sentence mean?
Shiny head: Blank stare….‘AND’?
Self: No…the word before ‘AND’

The moment this happens, you give shiny head the upper hand, because he can say, you have to be patient. He will explain everything eventually. AND you have instantly alienated everybody else in the room, who either wants to enjoy the monotone and relax, or find it an unnecessary interruption.

You wait for a while assuming that the jargon will eventually dribble down to a few more often used terms before you ask for clarifications. Take this as an exercise in your next technical seminar. You pen down all the fancy words that you want clarification on, and put a statistical indicator near the words. Soon, you know the shiny head’s favourites. You are still seeking clarification remember.

Shiny head’s list: Cognac, TR!FS, GORR

So, all you need to do is wait for the next breather to seek clarification. Now, you look around the room, and everybody nods looking as though they are grasping everything.

Cognac’s blah…blah will be used while TR!FS schedules an intermediate transmission routing via GORR.

blah….blah…..blah Cognac meanwhile responds to GORR…blah blah.

The following approaches are available to you at this juncture:

1) Look equally knowledgeable, and nod your head convincingly without falling asleep.
2) Look around for the person who nods the most and ask them to explain. If the concerned person was following strategy (1), it would make them look like a prized fool and provide for some entertainment.
3) Play a word-game while pretending to take notes and run into the arms of the search engine called Google at the nearest opportunity!

I wonder how people managed before Google!

We are out couch shopping. Suddenly, we look at all the mails for furniture deals without taking them directly to the waste bin without a glance.

We found this store with banners in BOLD RED all over the city. The store is closing NOW, the placards proclaimed. So, we went to the place with the lure of finding a good deal.

Everything must go!!Owner Lost Lease. EMERGENCY LIQUIDATION SALE!!

You would think the store owners have to purchase their air tickets only after selling their merchandise, and leave the country by this evening.

We were unsure, but stepped in anyway. The store was full of furniture – a large store with all varieties of furniture – dressers, beds, children’s beds, tables, corner pieces – everything except couches of course. So, after the first glance, the stroll through the store turned recreational. Ominous signs of liquidation loomed large over our heads wherever you turned. I walked through, wondering if the store had a particular table in Cherry wood finish, since the display model looked dull.

This is where it starts getting entertaining. There was a helpful shelf with all the available wood colors they have. And the note on the shelf was even more helpful. It added, that if I didn’t find what I liked, all I had to do was tell the owner, and he would order the color for me.

Maybe, my inventory management knowledge base were rusty. I always thought that if you are closing IMMEDIATELY, you aim at reducing inventory, not ordering more to satisfy new customers. So, if they were willing to order new furniture, while holding his existing furniture inventory, what were all the EMERGENCY LIQUIDATION signs doing all over the place?

PS: This month had a lot going on, and blogging took a back-seat. So, I am back with 2 posts in a row today. I sure missed my blogger!

This is about the terrible accident that collapsed the Mc Arthur intersection. An accident is an accident, and probably has no reasons, but still I can’t help thinking:

If the accident was caused by over-speeding on the curve, what was the driver thinking? So, the truck toppled over, the driver got out, ran to a gasoline bunk, called in a taxi, and then left to the hospital. At what point did the truck explode bringing down a maze of freeways with it? It is remarkable that no one died. As soon as it toppled, he probably knew the truck would explode. But still getting out of the truck and running on the freeway seems to be a humongous effort. How could a fire like that be put out?

If he was simply testing the limits of the trucks strength on curves, couldn’t he have chosen an exit where the curves are sometimes much more than the Mc Arthur. Why on the busiest intersections in Bay Area? I know the trucker’s conscience would be heavily relieved that nobody died, but still accidents such as these make me wonder how vulnerable the whole system is.

While driving back yesterday, I was in the car, when I saw 2 idiots in pick-up trucks racing each other. I call them idiots because those 2 had absolutely no regard to the hazards they were causing to the others on the roads. Weaving in and out of lanes at break-neck speeds. If something happens to them, at least they knew what were doing. But when an accident occurs, it seldom hurts only those who are knowingly erring. In spite of such a huge wake-up call on speeding in the morning, that every evening there are folks who do it – well….find a word for them will you?

This incident happened many moons ago. But I remember it as if it was yesterday. My father gets very excited and involved in the purchase of anything new. He spends weeks gathering pamphlets, relevant or otherwise, about the product he intends buying. Then after several weeks of agonizing indecisiveness, he settles for a brand on which he has no research material. It is a sure-fire success strategy that he has adopted for many decades. We usually wait till the process is over before quietly trashing all the pamphlets.

That year, he had gone in for a new colour television. It was a major financial decision in the early days. Add to the whole equation that we lived in a remote hill-station, and bringing the television home requires ingenuity of a different kind. Rightfully, there was much ado in the house and neighbourhood.

My brother loves fiddling around with gadgets of all sizes and shapes. Around 90% of the conversation between father and son at that point in time revolved around how my brother should not be fiddling around with things that did not concern him. That being the background, my brother decided to rope me in on his scheme to fluster my father.

A while later, I nonchalantly called my father for watching a program. He strolled in, we switched on the television, and only the audio would come on. He kept pressing the remote, but you just couldn’t get any video signals. I suggested in a worried tone that the picture tube may be out. I still have my father’s picture taken then in my mind’s camera. He was genuinely worried – I can make an attempt at the list of things that would have been crossing his mind at the time, but it would probably be too long, and varied.

My brother had the look of a stuffed frog in the background, bursting at my dad’s perplexity. Finally, it was he who gave it away since he could no longer stifle his giggles. He had reduced the brightness to zero, and the contrast to the highest setting so that the video signals would always be black.

I loved that 1st of April joke, and we still joke about it! I wonder what our kids are going to do to us!

Schools have a method of making every child feel important. In my school, especially in the younger classes, the goal was to get as many children as possible onto the stage. Rounds of auditions were held for roles requiring no dialogues to speak of. The whole process instilled a sense of pride and the camaraderie was memorable. Every child wrote home stating they were to participate in the play on Founder’s Day, and parents would take time to gather from all parts of India to see their off-spring shine forth and perform on stage. Well … not exactly, since most children would be part of a queen’s maids or fairies or some such similar thing, and just stand on the stage long enough for a photo-op. The point is: it was a major highlight in their lives.

As I grew older, and occupied my status as an aunt, I was invited several times to performances of nieces and nephews. One such performance a decade ago still gives me goose-bumps. My niece, V, was to perform on stage as a Sunflower in her nursery school. Preparations were on at a feverish pace. She would sing and practice religiously everyday. I was there dressed in my best clothes to watch my dear niece perform.

I stepped back-stage before the program started, and wished her luck, before snaking my way through the crowds to an inconspicuous chair in the rear-end of the auditorium.

This is where things start getting interesting.

We were ready for the “Sunflower Song & Dance”. V stepped on stage, and the sunflower field was before us. To state it mildly, V’s vocal chords are noticeable even in a noisy bunch of first graders. She stepped on stage, scoured the audience and started singing. All this while, she was combing the audience evidently looking for me – her favourite aunt. She spotted me, stopped singing, pointed at me and waved – “Hi chitthi!” .

I have never got a nastier jar in my life! I slowly felt the people farm turn and look at me. I turned red with embarrassment. I could have done the beetroot song and dance just there but I went with sinking as low as possible into my chair, and prayed for the sunflower dance to be over!

What brings these reminiscences back after all these years you might ask – aah a good question. This time, it is the role of my nephew in his School play, which I will have to miss on account of living half a moon away from him. Nevertheless, I look forward to the narration of the event with gusto. Here is the first account from my sister:

I received a circular last week from Siddu’s school stating that he was selected for the school concert and that he was to be sent to school for practice even after the exams. I beamed all over and thought ‘ How proud I am! Now I know why my parents were always proud when I was performing on stage during Founders’ ! I promptly blew the trumpet to some select close friends too! He went for the rehearsal yesterday and I couldn’t wait to hear about his role!

I asked him and he gave me his usual cynical reply ‘big deal‘ !! I gave him a talking and said it was a big deal of course and these are the things that would take him a long way in life- he would become confident and face an audience with no stage fear etc etc! He listened to my monologue and said ” Amma , I am a clown in the play and there are many such clowns. That’s why it is not a big deal!!!” I tried to hide my disappointment and asked him if it was an important part. He said ‘”Amma, stop getting so excited! There are atleast a dozen clowns and I am just one of them. I am having lots of fun with my friends so this practice time is cool.They won’t even miss me.”

I was persistent and said “So what are you supposed to do in the play? Are you going to say something on the stage?”. He said ” Yeah” and went off. So I raced behind him and said ” See you said it won’t make a difference but you actually have something to say on stage. Take your part seriously. Do you have any dialogues to learn by heart? Come I will help you. ” He sighed- ” Amma, I learnt my part the first time Sir said it. Basically I come cart wheeling on to the stage, whistle, make a noise with my nose closed and then stand in a corner with all the other clowns. After some time, one of the clowns punch me and push me down. I fall down flat. Then I raise my arms from the ground and say ‘ I am dead’. So what dialogue are you talking about? ”

See the way the human mind starts thinking between nursery school and 5th grade? The same role in first grade would have had him rehearsing his part at home, and exacting reviews from folks at home. Nevertheless, performing is great fun, and an important part of growing up. That letter opened a flood of memories – all pleasant!

Whenever I am particularly lethargic about blogging, I like to think that I suffer from a writers block.

I could call it a Pianist block,(I like to think that the effects of my work are similar to the musical effects of a piano concerto – I was never told dreaming is wrong!) but I have never stepped within a furlong of a piano without disastrous consequences.

So I could just simply call it a Lazy block. Now that would make “Lazy” my profession. So when folks come up to me, and ask me what I do for a living, I could say:

“I work as a lazy”

That is one sentence I’d like to throw around the English speaking populace and gauge their degree of recoil. That would give me subject for more blogging – Ha!

Last year: same time A story of …
Happy Women’s Day!

There is a sure-shot method to get a grown person turn red with embarrassment almost instantly. It involves the process of meeting their parents, hoping they remember their child’s glorious childhood, and re-kindle their enthusiasm to share the minutest of details. One question you can ask is: Do you remember how baby goliath used to play hide-n-seek? To date, I have not heard this question back-fire. All parents who have spent hours on their mother’s knee learning the value of truth, will tell you, how daft their little one was at the game. In fact, I am quite sure Newton’s mother will tell you that her son tried to hide himself behind an apple as a child.

It is quite fascinating to see the game of peek-a-boo mature into hide-n-seek. Suddenly, closing one’s eyes in the middle of the room, means nobody can see you! Give me a break. When they do hide, you can be almost sure, it will be a choice between spot A and spot B. Spot C becomes too varied. Of all the things the things I like to see best is how they come up with hiding spots when in a hurry.

“Hurry up! Amma will be coming in any moment…hide!”

Keep the pressure on, and see the kind of spots they come up with to really enjoy hide-n-seek. For example, this is where I “found” my daughter hiding when I came home one day. I had to try to avoid tripping over her, given that the box was in the middle of the room. Nevertheless, I spent five whole minutes shouting out her name, and looking for her in every other room, before feigning surprise at find her here.

I started mentioning this to one of my friends, and guess what, her sister came up with? My friend’s hide-n-seek past! To protect the privacy of the friend, I shall refrain from mentioning the name, and other details. But, let’s say it was highly entertaining to imagine that a highly qualified person with a keen intellect also started out with a deplorable hide-n-seek history!

Another related story that I put up soon, is my brother’s hide-n-seek history. Boy, that would be a read!

There is a sure-shot method to get a grown person turn red with embarrassment almost instantly. It involves the process of meeting their parents, hoping they remember their child’s glorious childhood, and re-kindle their enthusiasm to share the minutest of details. One question you can ask is: Do you remember how baby goliath used to play hide-n-seek? To date, I have not heard this question back-fire. All parents who have spent hours on their mother’s knee learning the value of truth, will tell you, how daft their little one was at the game. In fact, I am quite sure Newton’s mother will tell you that her son tried to hide himself behind an apple as a child.

It is quite fascinating to see the game of peek-a-boo mature into hide-n-seek. Suddenly, closing one’s eyes in the middle of the room, means nobody can see you. When they do hide, you can be almost sure, it will be a choice between spot A and spot B. Spot C becomes too varied. Of all the things the things I like to see best is how they come up with hiding spots when in a hurry.

“Hurry up! Amma will be coming in any moment…hide!”

Keep the pressure on, and see the kind of spots they come up with to really enjoy hide-n-seek. For example, this is where I “found” my daughter hiding when I came home one day. I had to try to avoid tripping over her, given that the box was in the middle of the room. Nevertheless, I spent five whole minutes shouting out her name, and looking for her in every other room, before feigning surprise at find her here.

I started mentioning this to one of my friends, and guess what, her sister came up with? My friend’s hide-n-seek past! To protect the privacy of the friend, I shall refrain from mentioning the name, and other details. But, let’s say it was highly entertaining to imagine that a highly qualified person with a keen intellect also started out with a deplorable hide-n-seek history!

Another related story that I put up soon, is my brother’s hide-n-seek history. Boy, that would be a read!

I walked into the house, and surveyed the surroundings. I was out looking for a house that would satisfy my desires of a dream home. The living room was large, with a minor raised level constituting the family room where the family could have their meals. The kitchen needed some upgrades, but roomy and airy! I stepped into a pretty large room that was ridden with cobwebs.

“Is this a walk-in closet”, I asked?

My realtor nodded, while the old lady, who lived in the home, looked at me quizzically and decided to ignore my question. We stepped into another bare room, and I exclaimed :

“WOW! A HIS and HER closet. This is lovely!”

The old lady, who now bore an uncanny resemblance to my grand-mother, looked at me like only a grandmother can look at a grand-child, and said she has around 10 sarees that she folds and keeps in her steel gray trunk. The first room was used to store the bags of rice after a harvest, and the smaller room was for storing maize. Why did she need such large rooms for clothes?!

At which point I burst out laughing, and got up from my sleep. I kept thinking about paati’s face and smiled to myself!

The day is not far-off when folks walk into village houses in Singaperumal Kovil (a tiny village near Chengalpet) with similar comparisons, since Chengalpet has now opened up to IT firms!

I am stuffed with food.
I am stuffed with good food.
I am stuffed with good Chinese food.
I am stuffed with good Chinese food that I did not order.

Every so often you find yourself in a place where it is not possible to form an opinion. The feeling where you rack your brains, and you get no vibe! It was into one such place that my friend and I peeked into for lunch. We were handed a menu that has seen better days in the past, and engaged in our banter, before being approached by the owner.

We asked him for vegetable soup. He nodded his head, and asked us whether we were both vegetarians. I affirmed with a nod of my coconut. He touched his hand to his heart, and said he would take care of our lunch for us, and disappeared without a squeak.

I was wondering what he would send for us, since he had not asked us about our preferences – spicy, sweet, mild. Do we like tofu, broccoli? Nothing – nope – not a whiff.

We idled a little more, before some heavenly soup came alongside an appetizer (I don’t know the names of the dishes I ate, because the owner sent us something that wasn’t even on the menu) Soon, an entree consisting of vegetables arrived too.

I must say, this was a very different kind of hospitality, and one lunch I enjoyed. The company was great, and so was the food!