‘Lavasa Women’s drive’ I was there too..but for a different reason...

Without women, this world wuld be a boring place

When I got an invitation from ‘Lavasa Women’s Drive organized by Lavasa in collaboration with the Times of India’ to celebrate the spirit of modern woman, telling me that my opinion counts, that people care to read what I write, and that there is someone out there listening to me, many random thoughts flooded my mind quizzing my position in cyber arena. I was elated with a false sense of pride for this achievement, thinking that I was filtered out from million of bloggers for some unique reason unknown to me and I happily debated with a bloated mind….thinking.. .. I am a strong woman, I am good blogger, I occupy the popular position in the social world, my writing has weight, bla, bla, bla....duh!.... My ego was in the fourth gear, speeding shamelessly. I wanted to share this news with all the people I knew. I was bragging near everyone who cared to listen, till I discovered the real reason behind this event and the seriousness of this ‘Social Cause’

This event was not about me or my ability to write......

‘Lavasa Women’s drive’ was about the creating awareness for early detection of breast cancer in women….

A message with responsibility……

“OVERTAKE BREAST CANCER”

I was bribed into this event with the perks to cover this event as chroniclers of Lavasa Women’s Drive.  (Which I could easily have blogged for free,) since this is the ‘social cause’ very close to my heart, having lost my 3 aunts in a row and missing them terribly even now. But this bribe was no ordinary one. Besides giving me an opportunity to get free screening for Breast, Cervical and Oral cancers at Tata Memorial Hospital, it would also allow me to enjoy the new city called ‘Lavasa’ free of cost. (a place that I was planning to visit since a long time, and had neatly tucked aside twenty grand for this purpose).

I realized that I had a responsibility of posting my message across that screamed loud and clear that ‘Cancer is curable if detected early’. It was an event to help promote women empowerment.

So, on 27th February 2011, when I reached the venue.....

I discovered that there were very large crowd of women who, like me, cared.

I woke up early at 5:30am (which is quite rare) to be at Bandra reclamation grounds that was bustling with positive energies. There were 350 cars participating in the Rally from Mumbai and (I was told) 150 more from Pune. Every car had a message to share.

It was all about saving the girl child and promoting women empowerment.

Comfortably, we drove for 5 hours, in a specious Inova, following the participating cars, cheering the women drivers and their girl-co-passengers on route whenever we overtook their vehicle (they had a map and certain rules to follow. Later, eavesdropping at the promenade, I heard one woman speak about her fright at speeding at 140) We drove through express highway, some 211 kilometers, via Lonavala, Hinjewadi, Pirangut, driving up through western Ghats, behind the majestic Sahyadri Mountains, along the contours of the Warasgoan Lake to reach a complete new world, a planned city of Lavasa, a city with an European crown.
 

Warasgoan Lake

Once there, the atmosphere was emotive.

Women, women, everywhere.

A carnival of music and dance.

Many of the women enjoyed one day carnival and headed back home but me and five other bloggers (two bloggers went back the same day) along with the members of windchimers, discovered the blogging world as we exchanging our stories of the virtual world in the luxurious service apartments where we spend the night as room-mates. Twenty fours hours ago, we were strangers but forty eight hours later, we were blogger buddies who had exchanged stories worth more than thousands of words.......

On the first day, we walked down the promenade, meeting participants and asking about their experiences

All the women were having fun, dancing and singing.......

And bloggers were communicating in their tweeting world. The virtual world were kept abreast with all the events and happening by live tweets of @shaaqT, @anushankaran, @ideasmithy, @monikamanchanda @kiranmanral and @Cemonde

When they were not tweeting, the enthusiastic bloggers would go yakkiti yakkiti yak yak, making interesting comments, sharing their views of their blogging world, it was the best time ever for me. Thank you girls….you were sooooo very adorable.

Although there was much to see, our one-day-stay limited our tourism. We did drive up to Ekkant retreat which allowed me to commute with nature and we visited a bamboo factory called Bamboosa where I purchased a hand crafted walking stick. But apart from that, we just walked up and down the Dasve town, discovering the European architecture and the scenic natural waterfront. (I was told that there is Nature Trail, Christel House, Xthrill, Boating, plant Nursery, convention hall, and adventure tourism which offer camping grounds, rock-climbing, para-surfing, and other water related sports like jet skis, catamarans, motor and peddle boats, fishing and pool volleyballs.

The city was clean and refreshing, steps and potted plants everywhere, with hundred of steps to climb up and down the hills but unfortunately there were no railings anywhere, (I think they forgot that senior citizens and handicaps need support during climbing up/down the stairs) Being hilly city and easily accessible by road, many would also like to cycle around but there were no lanes for cycling, all the paths lining the driveway were filled with flora and fauna (which looked pretty, no doubt about that) but a thought for a lane for mountain bikers would be appreciated (anybody listening?)

And surprisingly, being an Indian town, there were no beggars! Strange!! But that must be because there were no traffic signals. Not as yet! Hahaa!

It is hard to believe that it’s an Indian city, easily accessible to every Indian, with no visa requirement. All one needs is just a desire to stay with the nature, away from the maddening crowd and screeching horns of busy streets.

Just few hours away by road from Mumbai,

A city of dreams where there is sound of music in the air...

I am motivated to go once again.

Maybe I will,

if travel bug bites……..under my tapping feet.

))))))000000)))))))000000))))))))000000))))))))))0000000)))))))))

Co-bloggers who also travelled with me and then blogged
Anuradha one more and more
Kiran
Nisha, one more
Idea Smith, one more
Shakshi
Monika
Shakti
Lavasa Blog

Blind Faith in Mathura

Temple made of Italian Marble imported from Italy

In Mathura there are more than 600 temples and more are built each year, some of these temples are really beautiful and if you are looking for a good architecture, you can feast your eyes on them.


Unfortunately some people believe that God resides there.

As far as I know, God does not exist in stone structures, neither in temples nor in idols. He is there with us, 24x7, inside us in the form of light and He can be reached anytime when we wish to see Him. We can feel Him, hear Him, know His presence and the miracles that happen in our life are the proof that he exists within us.

Yes, there is need for a guide to recognize God, We all need Master to show us the path to go inside and find Him through a proper channel but the real Master will not weigh you with money to show you the path, he will guide you so that you are able to understand the right method through meditation, the right discipline and then leave you alone to follow the path.

Yet, there is a blind faith of some spiritual people who think that God resides in these concrete structures and can be reached through a medium, either through some spiritual person, or through a pundit. There are many pundits in Mathura who cash on this stupidity of people. Thanks to the blind faith of spiritual people, the pundits own 5-bedroom-villas on the outskirts of Mathura.

Surprised? Well I am not lying because I actually visited one!

The car-rental people have understanding with the pundits and they too have their share for bringing ‘client’ to them. I had warned my family about this but they did not believe me till they got tricked.

The car-rental driver suggested ‘Gokul’ when my family expressed their desire to see temples of Mathura and the family went to ‘Gokul’. They got mobbed by pundits who promised to pray for peace of their loved one who were no more. They came back stunned; each one with empty pockets all had shelled out thousands of rupees without realizing that they were being tricked.

As long as people have a blind faith, the pundits will have a field day. Some will give willingly and some out of fear.

How does one help humanity in a practical way, if the middle person always cheats, dissolving our trust?

Thread Ceremony

“After the thread ceremony, you will be transformed into a Hindu man” I told my sixteen-year-old nephew.

He did not understand.

He sat through the prayers dressed in saffron robes, imitating pundits at every ritual, reciting the shlok after them and chanting the prayers.

After one hour of ceremony, people congratulated him, showered him with garlands and gifts and wished him luck

He smiled

Nothing had changed

Not for that moment.

Kalaghoda workshop 'Eat, Write, love'

“Eat, write, love” conducted by Rushina Ghildiya during Kalaghoda festival was interesting and promising workshop that I wouldn’t want to miss. Having a wedding in the family had kind of tied me up with shopping and visit to tailors, but somehow I excused myself from other important things, (postponing it to some other day) and I managed to attend two-day workshop on food-writing during the morning hours from 11am to 4pm.

And I was glad that I did.

During the two day workshop I learnt about the different literature/cookbooks that are available in the market and how I could make my contribution to new frontiers of food writing.

Food writing is basically an art of writing in such a way that it creates enough desire in the person to go out and taste the food. It could be by reporting, writing memoirs, history or review, but all food articles place importance on preparation, consumption, nutritional values and recipes.

Rushina spoke about her experience as a published food writer, giving us great tips on the type of articles that find their way into print, giving us pointers which could be expressed through food news, travel stories, trends, essays, product review, restaurant review or interviews. She suggested that we maintain a diary of taste which could list the flavor of particular food with defining words that could make our writings interesting.

What was fascinating about this workshop was that we actually got to eat some of the food stuff and the painful part of this workshop was the assignment after tasting the food. After a delicious meal, instead of stirring myself with food writing, I would rather sleep, er...well.... at least for some time... till all the juices have melted completely through my gullet into my tummy. no?

On the day one, she brought food stuff like kafir leaves, Kafier lime, heart of palm and yellow and pink dragon fruits.

I picked up the dark green, round fruit, probably a close cousin to our Indian lime but with rough body and distinct nipple at the stem end. As I dug my nails into the Kafier lime, there was high concentration of aromatic oil, whose fragrance seeped through my nostril reeling me to heady nostalgia about my Bangkok trip where almost all the traditional food have this flavor, in soups, in fish recipes and in red/green curry. Unlike our Indian lime, this kafier lime was dry and had no juice at all, but its rind could be used in most of the recipes.

There was another plate of ‘heart of palm’ an ivory round slab which she had cut into small pieces for us to taste. It was delicate in flavor, had a kind of sweet and nutty taste. The plate was kept close to where I was sitting and I picked up quite a few pieces, savoring it during next one hour of the session.

Dragon fruit which I would never buy from any market since I would never know what I would find inside was a pleasant surprise. It turned out to be a relative of our Kiwi fruit that I have enjoyed so many times, but while Kiwi is sourer, this one was sweeter and tastier. There was pink and yellow dragon fruit but I liked the pink one which was much sweeter than the yellow bland one.

Rushina made a salad from all these three ingredients adding salt, red chilly powder and lime juice. Our assignment was to write a small paragraph on these ingredients.

Some of those present did complete the assignment, writing about the food stuff and whatever it inspired them to write and they read it for every one’s benefit. Great talent there!

At the end of the session we got to try some pastries and macaroon which we had to write again, but like I said earlier, I digest everything……hahaha!

The day two of this workshop was on serious writing. Rushina gave us more information of different cuisine books available online and the kind of style and content on food writing that one could use and how one could benefit from this literature to augment our-day-to-day writing.

The interesting part again.. what else?? ..yeah eating

Godrej Nature Basket, my favorite super store where I normally do my weekly food shopping, has generously shared a variety of chilly (my favorite ingredient that I cannot do without) products from around the world for us to try.

And thus began our tasting session…

Nori Japanese seaweeds coated with chilly flavor were wafer thin dark greenish strips with a fishy smell. It had a crisp texture and a sweet, slightly salty and pungent taste, I have tasted these seaweed strips wounded over Shushi but having them as a snack was good too.

Next was the mayonnaise with Mexican jalapenos ‘La Costena Chipotle Peppers in Adobo Sauce’. This made the beautiful combination with mayonnaise with crunchy smoked, red peppers and the sour taste of vinegar and tomato sauce.

Harissa (Morrocan chili sauce)The sweet chilli paste with aniseeds and ginger tasted like the Indian version of sweet chutney which reminded me of the sauce that mom would make during my growing up years. It had Indian spices and could be enjoyed best with Indian rotis or puri. We could also use it for stir fries for rich flavors. (pssss! on my next visit, I might buy one)

Lemnos Sweet Chili Cream Cheese had a crunchy taste of capsicum and I was mentally making a notes of must-do-shopping-of-this-product-for-quick-food-snack-days

Lindt dark chocolate had a chilly flavor for a change. It has unique and sophisticated taste. At first it was just sweet but the chilly flavor creeps in as soon as the chocolate has melted in your mouth giving it warm and chilled finish to your palette.

It was a fiery afternoon with so many varieties of chillies from all over the world, most of them I had tried during my travels but had never heard of chilly chocolate…have you?

Sniff! Sniff!

I needed a tissue.

And then it was time to write an assignment…tough part but some of the writers in the group surprised us with their most descriptive memoirs that they were inspired to write after eating so many chillies.

Me, I collected lots of ideas by just listening to their ranting…thinking of becoming a food writer…maybe I should try……some day.

At the restaurant - 55-er.

He was unsure whether they could split the food bill. Slowly, undecided, he fumbled, digging deep into his pockets. The waiter groaned, she grabbed the bill, quickly paid him the cash and watched him walk away.

"You should have let me pay" he said, "you know I can afford it"

"I can too" she snapped

come home

You never found time to visit me, although I hear that you have travelled far and wide, stop being stubborn and come while I am fine, don't blame me else if my eyes sight soars, blue age sets in and you are greeted by just an ivory plaqued dentured smiles

26th January..Republic day, yay!!!

Everybody has great stories to share on this day of my country's celebration, stories of friendship, peace and wealth..er...wealth? hmmmmn wealth!..I am still thinking about those 100 lakh crores tied as prisoners in those swiss banks..their struggle has not yet ended.......we must think about their freedom....no?

Everybody knows it is wrong to hide money like this but nobody can do anything about it..right??

I am cool

Thank God I am a cool person who takes everything in her stride or else how does one behave when one is all ready, dressed up, cancelled off all the appointments just to be with a friend, waited for two hours making meaning less strides, up and down the room, waiting for that DAMN phone to ring and when it DOES RING ....ONLY TO BE TOLD THAT HER FRIEND WILL NOT BE ABLE TO MAKE IT BECAUSE SHE IS GOING FOR A MOVIE INSTEAD AND CARELESSLY says 'SORRY'...GRRRRRRRRRH!!! *Screaming!!!!!!*

Yay! Award is an award, and I won…..

I was qualified for Grand Prize Judging of my Quatrains and I receive a new year gift..


Okay 2010 was not so bad afterall, cause I won the poetry contest and received a prize too. What else would I want?

Seventeen individual “Quatrain City Poetry Contests” were held from the end of March through November on Ryze network at forum called ‘Wordmeisters, Poets and Writers-Unite!’, where by a picture was posted and members would post a quatrain inspired by the picture. I had participated in thirteen contests and had won six of them. Quatrains were judged on creativity, poignancy, format (if applicable) and content. Each Contest resulted in a winner and runner-up, both of which qualified for Grand Prize judging.

In Grand Prize judging, my poem was qualified as second runner up.

For my quatrain called ‘Criss-Crossed’

Hushed voices trapped behind colored frames
Criss-crossed, the thoughts rotate from side to side
Silence speaks under the pillars of courage
Whispering gently under its beams with joy.

Inspired by this picture

picture by Jack Huber

Now awaiting anxiously for my well earned gift: a copy of "A Poet's Primer" and one more book which will be either paperback copies of Jack Huber’s "Aspects Long Forgotten" or an electronic copy of Diane Tegarden's excellent "Light Through Shuttered Window."

Details of all winners here http://www.jackhuber.com/quatraincity.htm

Theme Party at Pattaya Beach

80's was the theme and I wacked my brain hard thinking of dressing weird, even brought some DVD to watch the styles of the 80’s, absorbed the pictures of back-combing hair styles, wigs and hair extensions, maxis, mascaras and dark lipsticks, but could not have enough courage to dress in that style, simplicity was my preferred option, with weird and crazy looks best left to those bubbling youth.

My bold and beautiful cousin came into my room dressed in a wig. It suited her, but then everything suit her and becomes a fad, so I just went along with her, holding by her arm, like an accessories for the evening.

The party was by the poolside, closer to the Pattaya beach, one hundred and twenty steps below our hotel room.

Most of the guests were dressed colorful clothes, which would be abnormal in any other situation but acceptable as was the norm. I had seen such scenes in Hollywood films but attending such party had a different effect. My cousin with a bald head, with his hair all brushed up on the centre of his scalp walked pass me and I didn’t recognize him until I looked closely and saw his smile.

And kids were in party mood too, with colorful wigs of purple and blue

Some of them boldly posing for the camera while some of them shy, hid behind their hats

All daringly dressed

All the cameras goes click, click, click,

There was food and drinks and there was music and dance

It was a lovely evening with lotsa fun

The party went on till late night, till the drooping eye lids of children reminded the parents that it was time to head back home.

Item Song Craze.

“I know what you want but I will never give you......mein tere haat kabhi na aahoon.” says the dancer as she seductively dances to the tune of ‘Shiela ki Jawani” with hundreds of guys dancing around her semi-clad body with only a thin satin sheet to cover her mid-reef (Wow! Farah Khan, would you like to dress up like that? I am sure you would too if you had a slim body of Katrina Kaif, bah!).

And this is the latest item song that is doing its rounds and driving every man crazy.

it goes..Sheeeeelaa, Sheela ki jawaaaaani.......(sabko karey diwani...)


 
People were raving about this song on twitter and in social media and complaining that it was getting irksome for women to walk alone on the road with Romeos were chanting away teasingly outside the college gates. Someone even wrote a personal letter to the producer, accusing him of marring the Indian culture and polluting the minds of dirty old men.


I had not heard about this song and had no clue about the fuss that was made over this song.(was away, travelling the whole month, had not watched the local music channels nor heard this song on radio) when I discussed it with my niece, (on my return back to India) she told me that this was the latest craze in the music world and lot of people were comparing this song with another item number called ‘Munni Badnam hui’




Now I had watched the video of ‘Munni Badnam hui and had found that dance quite graceful but I was not sure of this Sheila.


All Shiela has done is to drop her clothes, and get every man excited..

Whatever happened to those beautiful songs of yesteryears that had graceful dance and wonderful lyrics? Those songs like 'Mukaddar ka Sikandar, Pakeeza, Umrao Jaan, etc'

Ah well! well! well!

Seems like both these songs will keep the world entertained on New Year’s eve of this year

And Munni will come the long way

Or will it?

Shiela might know.

Wordless Wednesday

burnt out light

Un-visit to Shivneri Fort

The road was narrow. On one side were the steep hills and a deep valley on the other side. Our car moved slowly up the slope. I went click, click, click, like some curious tourist, clicking the pictures of trees, stones and leaves. Most of my pictures will be deleted ofcourse, but thats the advantage of having digital camera. As we neared our next site, I adjusted the setting of my camera to get different look. What setting I should set for our next site? Portrait? Landscape? I had read about Shivneri fort and was curious to visit it. It seemed like an important historical place to visit. This is the place where the great Maratha warrior Shri Shivaji Maharaj was born.

Shahaji, the father of Shivaji Maharaj,a general in Adil Sha of Bijapur sultanate put pregnant Jijibai for her security in Shivneri.Shivneri is a hill fortress with steep rocks in the mountain ranges of Sahyadri.

As we neared the historical site, we were in for a surprise. Such an important tourist spot and there was too much commotion. The honking is the next most famous passtime of our drivers in India. if the FM radio is not working due to poor reception in their vehicle, you will hear them honking for some music. a person with musical ear might rubbish this honking as irksome noise. But for un-musical person, there was a reason. There was no parking space, not enough space to drive through the road to reach the steps! All I saw was traffic jam.

Big huge tourist buses, scrambling for space with different sized cars, trying to reverse in small space to escape the mayhem, little wonder that the expert drivers were not plunged down the deep valley to give me some extra-ordinary shots..

My friends complained about the 700 crores rotting in Swiss banks when they could be easily used to beautify the tourist spots and create jobs for low income groups.

"Are not the authorities in the higher place aware that there are thousands of tourists who would be interested in visiting such historical places." grumbled my friend, "The least the government could do was to build a proper infrastructure to make the people’s life easier and pleasant."

There was open space one kilometer away from the actual site and those who braved to climb up the fort to appreciate the site had to walk a mile in the hot sun to board the comfortable vehicle which was parked so faraway.

Had I climbed up the fort I would have seen the museum and also a Badami Talav, my friends went up there and came back panting, sweating and grumpily shared their experience with us.  
 

I was not that brave to climb those steep and high rocks they called steps. I am a delicate darling and only pure comfort will suffice. I chose to wait in the vehicle, rather than climb up the fort and then walk back one kilometer in hot sun. I shut myself  from this commotion by switching on my smart phone and entering the virtual world, reading the comments of my friends on twitter and facebook. The face-to-face interaction in the real world is diminishing nowadays and online virtual friends walk into my mind to scream their rants. When I woke back to the real world surrounding me, I sat listening to the endless rants of my friends who complained non stop about our inefficient system of government and their insensitivity towards common man’s comfort.

I could not solve their woes and I am sure nobody will.

It happens only in India

Shopping for my niece

Who says women like shopping? It is such a boring job especially if you have to shop for others.

These days I am shopping for my niece because she has no time. She is studying medicine in Spain but needs some good clothes for her sister’s wedding and its me and my sister who are aunting.

My sas says she has found one nice store at Elco market in Bandra. I wriggle my nose. I don’t like that flashy market, it used to be nice market once upon a time, but now it has lost its charm. Every time I walk inside the Elco Market, each store assistant opens the door wide, inviting me to walk into their store and I am too embarrassed to refuse. I like to do window shopping but I can’t stand those grinning faces.

My sas and I enter the store where she wants me to have a lookie, lookie….

I really have no intention of buying from this store but when I enter, I see some nice kurtis at reasonable rates.

I ask for a seat.

The store keeper gives me few magazines, asking me to select some designs and he is willing to ape exactly the same pattern. The ‘picture in the magazine’ stares back at me as I try to fit those dresses on my niece’s imaginary figure. I am more interested in seeing intricacy of his work. He shows me his collection of ghagra cholis, mermaid style dresses, embroidered kurtis, saris, etc. The fashion keeps changing and every time I am out window shopping, I have seen new designs, new styles, and newer cuts. There is lot of creativity out there. Every fractured piece becomes a new design and miraculously it works fine. The craftsmanship of the tailors is amazing. There are quilted, embroidered work laced with colorful stones and pearls, some sequences of different shapes, entwined into the collage of typical ethnic styles. The designers use their skills to combine different colors for best visual effects.

As I leaf through different designs in various books, I am not impressed. I have some style of my own,( yes I do design sometimes) etched in my head. I ask for paper pencil and sketch the pattern for the designer to see. I have made five layered, pleated net gown with brocade border and matching belt. The brocade is laced with white stones at the edges. Next I draw brocade corset with halter neck and a long stole of net with brocade border. I select different shades of blue asking him to give a shimmering blue petticoat under the blue net skirt. I ask him to work out the cost.

He takes fifteen minutes to work out the cost of the garment that I have deisgned and then gives me the figures.

I faint

I think he is crazy, how can a simple garment of just net, brocade and stones cost Rs12000?

I spend another thirty minutes bargaining.

We arrive on a common ground of Rs10500.

It’s crazy. I have never ever worn such an expensive dress. I wouldn’t waste so much money on clothes which I might wear just once.

Well aunting is a tough job. Can’t disappoint my niece!

Dare I??

Eating Out at Vientiene Loas

Red, pink, yellow, white, there were flowers of all colors everywhere, rocking slowly with the breeze in the lawns, Christmas lights circled the tree trunks, announcing that the Christmas is just round the corner. Neat, narrow, concrete paths, leading to the tables where diners enjoyed the ambience as they munched on their meals. I waited patiently for diners to hurry up, finish up their meal and vacate their table, so that I could start my dinner. I was starving. There was no table vacant. This seemed like a popular venue. Here I was, at Poysian Pulkone, a Korean restaurant in Vientiene Loas.

One thing nice about visiting new places is that you are eager to try new cuisine, especially the specialty of that city; I am always ready to brave a strange meal. Many times, the food may not suit me and I get bad stomach/ allergies from too much adventure but that does not discourage me from trying out new dishes in new places. So here I was, in the restaurant famous for its BBQ cuisine. Every table was fitted with a gaping hole into which they inserted tumbler of burning charcoal, as soon as the new set of diners occupied the table.

Plates containing peanut sauce, salads, garlic, ginger, shallots, deep fried brinjals, steamed green chillies, a tumbler of clear soup, and assorted meat filled up every area of the table

A perforated soup plate was inserted on the charcoal tumbler,, and thus our table was set for BBQ in which we were expected to roast the assorted meat on perforated centre and soak them into the soup on its' sides.

A vegetarian person is most likely to starve here ( just sit at home for quieter meals) while others can roast the meat, fill the soup plate with the clear soup, add all the greens, and everything that is on the table, lace it with all the possible condiments to relish the taste.

It was a delicious meal and I think I did take an extra mouthful. (hafta watch my weight) I couldn’t help turning my head at ninety degrees to watch slyly at the next table. They were enjoying too

Origami Birds

On our return from Ventiene Loas, we spend a day at Udon Thani, from where we were to board plane back to Bangkok. At the ticket counter, there was a bouquet of fresh flowers which were mainly orchids, and in between the flowers there was a small bird in origami. So tiny that it was surprising that my cousin observed it, she plucked out the tiny paper bird and pushed in my hands. The girls behind the counter were amused. They pointed to more such tiny birds in other bouquets and each time my cousin plucked it and placed it in my hands.

We went through immigration and waited for more than an hour in the waiting lounge.

When the announcement was made for boarding the flight, we stood in line. The girl, whom we had met earlier at the ticket counter was now waiting at the exit to check our boarding pass. When she saw my cousin, she smiled and presented her enclosed envelop.

There were 20 more birds made in origami by her, all made from flyers

Happy journey she said, smiling once again.

Celebrating Children’s Day 2010 Virtually

I remember celebrating this day with gusto when I was a kid. Every year this day would be celebrated in school with snacks (popcorn, wafers, glucose biscuits and candies), some balloons, gifts, games and same boring speech by our principle.

Every year we would hear the same story that November 14 is celebrated as Children's Day across India to mark the birthday of India's first Prime Minister Pandit Jawaharlala Nehru. He loved children very much and was popularly known as 'Chacha Nehru' (Uncle Nehru)!

Every year I would hear our teachers say “Children are the future of tomorrow, you must grow up to be good citizens” and I would anxiously wait for the future when I would be fully grown up.

But I never grew.

The child in me refused to grow up. (what to do?) I am still excited by the rainbow on a cloudy day (yayaya!!). I will still run after a colorful butterfly. (Yipeee!) I still laugh heartily at a good/bad joke (Hahhaaha). I still get annoyed when people ignore me(eeewww). I will still cry/sob when I am sad.(sniff! sniff!)

This year, children’s day was on a Sunday. Normally, my virtual world is closed on Sundays.

Sunday is the family time and I try to avoid going online as much as possible, (although not always successful). There are moments when I peep into my smart phone for a while, stealing some moments from the family time. And with BB within my reach, it is easy to do that. Actually I don’t do it but that child in me does it. (So not my fault at all)

Thus, at the end of the day, when I finally went online on my desk-top (the proper proffessional way), I saw that I had missed a great party.

The great party was at twitter board.

People had tweeted about various things they did #wheniwasakid and (I had missed it, but noworries) I was happy to tweet on this hash even though I knew none of my friends were there online.

#whenIwasakid I would steal baby milk powder and eat it secretly when aunt would be asleep

#whenIwasakid i never knew how to swim or went for any extra class

#whenIwasakid I always worried abt fan falling off from ceiling n crushing me

#whenIwasakid I was afraid of every person in uniform, be it police or a nurse or even a nun

#whenIwasakid I was terribly afraid of earthquake and had tied mom's pallu to my little finger n followed her wherever she went

People had chatted about the things they did in their childhood at #bachhpan too and had posted their childhood pics. It was interesting to read all those tweets. My friend saw me online and asked me to post my childhood picture.

I didn’t have any.

Perhaps my family was not very rich or maybe I was not that pretty enough for my parents to invest money on camera or maybe- both. I don’t have any childhood pictures. There are few pictures clicked by rich uncles and aunts who must have visited my family during that time, but there is none of me alone. But since my friend wanted me to upload my profile picture, I stole one from baby wall-papers on net and posted at a collage titled twitter #bachpan 2010.


I was happy to see my picture in that collage

When I visited google to search for a picture of babies, the picture on the google page was a pleasant surprise created by 14 year old kid from Mangalore-Akshay Raj who won the second Doodle4Google India 2010 competition!

His logo was up on Google India's homepage throughout the day. He named it as 'My dream for India in 2030'. I must appreciate his thoughts as it clearly speaks of his dream, his maturity at such a young age. The logo simply sums up every aspect of growing India

Last hour of the children’s day was spend reading about my friends childhood memories and having a good laugh, and like every other day, I need a midnight feast, walked to my kitchen to extract a box of sweets , thus ended the day with a bite of cold sweet laddoo – sinfully

Find me at twitter at pushpz

Random thoughts -Why are we always trying to please?

People who like us will accept us the way we are, so why must we go out of our way to be goody-goody?

In trying to please others, we are too obssessed with comparing ourselves to others.

Whenever we try to compare ourselves to others, a strange feeling comes over us making us feel superior or inferior as the case may be..

We are not ready to admit that we lack something and we try to cover that up with silence or may sometimes go secretedly to a library to understand that knowledge of know-how or simply we may drown ourselves in self pity when we feel that we never had opportunity to learn and the circumstance were not in our favor.

On the other hand, when we feel superior and think that we are more intelligent than our friends, we start wearing the cap of attitude and we close our mind to further learning....

In both counts we are pretending to be what we are not.

Wordless Wednesday

Winged Birds Mehfil by the lake

Celebration

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 16; the sixteenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

One more Diwali this year.

I think, the craze diminishes with age, especially if you don’t have children to enjoy with, it is not like those Diwali days of yester years when we were kids.

This year it wore a subdued mood.

Best Diwali was celebrated during those days when mom was alive. It had a different meaning then. Mom would start cleaning the house fifteen days before the D-day, which would be followed by shopping for new clothes, then making sweets, distributing to family and friends and finally the prayers, with plenty of gifts exchanged, some of them recycled. There would be lots of crackers and fireworks, mud lamps were placed at every window sill in the house and balconies would be lit with colorful bulbs. We would have continuous stream of guests, and of course lots of phone calls from relatives who lived abroad.

But, after mom, nothing is same.

With 90% of my older relatives dead and gone, the few that are left, they live in their own world.

Cleaning is done by maids, sweets and savories purchased from the stores and shopping is just a norm. We are shopping all year round so this is just another day.

I walk downstairs to meet the kids in my building compound and they are bursting expensive rockets. ‘How much did you pay for this 30 seconds pleasure?” I ask their father as I see the rocket go up in the sky and burst into thousand spraklers "Don’t even mention, it burns our heart and our pocket” they say “We have paid through our nose” and their kids looked at them with crinkled nose trying to understand what we meant and I tell them “Beta, you don’t understand how difficult the times are now, wait for 20 years and you will understand”

The children continue to derive the pleasure of bursting more crackers, those bigger strings of 2000 noisy crackers and I pause for a longer time to complete my unfinished sentence.

I am proud of the blinking red-rose shaped bulbs, which runs parallel to string of colored bigger bulbs and then there is one more string of hundred tiny green bulbs running across my balcony grill in the zigzag fashion. I am elated each time I go to my balcony to admire them, and then suddenly...Oh No! It is raining heavily, wetting my extension cord. It never used to rain during Diwali . Global warming! Bah! It is darkness again.

I recieve many SMS's, people sending me the forwards with no originality or personal touch. I do the same. All my friends are on social media and they all wish me on Face-book. No postman arrives with a greeting card. (when they come for Diwali bakshis they have an embarrassed look) All of my NRI family is on a smart phone and they exchange virtual sweets, jokes and greetings, but nobody calls to wish…no warm voice I hear. Every body’ messages I read on line and smile…alone.

I am glad that I do have family and friends towards whom I can stretch and reach physically.

I eat, pray and love during Diwali for sometime with them, offline

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Wordless Wednesday - Traffic Jam

My entry for WW

Fast Women Fast

Img Source

Early morning, my fingers grope for BlackBerry, as I lay in bed.

I start my day with the messages that I might have missed while I was sleeping. After reading BB messages, I check my emails, then Facebook, Twitter, Internet explorer. By the time I am ready to get up from the bed, I am already enlightened by my friends’ state of mind and what are they thinking, with the world news, with all the latest jokes and the topic of discussions for a day.

Today, everybody is talking about ‘Karwa-Chaud’, a fast that women keep for health and prosperity of their husband. Abstainers are hoping that their spouse will outlive them.

Ah! I am glad that I am responsible only for my self.

So they fast, those women in red, with large round bindi on their forehead, dark green bangles jingled on their hands but, do their hubbies appreciate and treat them well?

Why do u starve, oh women folk? Know it not that it's an old story told? The health of men depends on his vice; your diet has no ropes on his life.

Starve if you must then it could be, to learn the hunger of a child on the street, whose parents brought him thoughtlessly to quench their greed shamelessly.

You could starve on the days when you have bigger waistline, it pains you to see your unhealthy lifeline, just for day you could stop those fatty canapés that you gorge greedily on a whipped cream.

But then, who am I to advocate? Huh?

All day long I see married women celebrating their fast together, visiting temples, listening to stories of woman achievers who have prospered in their love-life, many of them forgetting and forgiving the abuses that are hurled at them every hour of the day.

They all look so much in love.

In the evening, when I go for open-mike poetry performance at the Prithvi theatre, there are more love poems. Love is in the air. Am I missing something?

The woman recites, "I would like to wrap you all over me, feel your breath and touch your glow," and I am enthralled by her emotive desires. I am thinking “How do you feel when he comes home, swinging his butt, fully drunk, do you say "Duh!"

Late night, my friends and I walk on the beach. This is a Juhu Beach - one of the dirtiest beaches of Mumbai, a beach where one would not risk wetting a toe. The moon shines brightly reflecting its silver rays on the water. It’s a low tide. There is no wind. Everywhere, I see the cluster of women sitting in a group around the burning lamps and incense sticks, praying to the moon.

Having survived without food all day, they offer their prayers to the moon; the conclusion of Karva Chauth involves the offering of sanctified water (arghya) to the moon, as it represents Shiva and Parvati, there will be feast to celebrate with their spouse.

Their spouse will be treated like God today.

Img Source

The Book launch of ‘Women Changing India’

Unlike the other events that I have attended, this book launch was unique. Most of the book launches that I have attended are the type where the author, or his chief guest rip opens the book, few passages are read, then there are questions and answers session and finally to buy an autographed copy. Most of the time I pick the book that I don’t really need it but am obliged to buy, I may even add few words of encouragement to the author (if she/he is a friend) and then I am home, dump the book on the shelf of ‘To-be-read-when-I-find-time-or-interest-to-read’.

This was a launch of coffee-table book of photographs and essay by six authors and six photographers. This book attempts to map in words and pictures, some of the changes that are both visible and invisible in the India of today.

The event included exhibition of the blown-up photographs of the content in the book. We (my friend and I) walked around admiring the photographs by Raghu Rai, Martine Franck, Olivia Arthur, Alex Webb, Alessandra Sanguinetti and Patrick Zachmann. There were pictures of women who have made difference in people’s lives, their power radiating behind their teakwood desk. There were glimpse into the lives of women who have been the driving force in uplifting the Indian economy. There were pictures of women in Bollywood world, in corporate world, in banking, some across the villages doing the hard labour and some in taxi-business for women (training and driving school for women), security guards and others covering a broad spectrum of women across various field.

But, like I was saying that this book launch was totally different. There was only one book on display, not for sale, nor any author to autograph it. The weather was quite warm; I was feeling sorry for those foreigners and other corporate people who were dressed in three-piece suit, not really understanding our comfort in cotton clothes. (I was tempted to tell them, when in India , dress like Indians do..ah well) The inauguration was started by lighting of the lamp in the traditional Indian way, followed by speeches by the guests, during which the people in three-piece suits had walked outside for fresh air or to attend to more important phone-calls and had walked inside the Shamiana only after the speeches were done and it was time for yum…snacks and drinks.

This is the first book launch where I have been offered snacks like chicken tikka, fish cutlets, Paneer puffs, veg kababs, cakes, and wide range of drinks and cocktails! It was fun moving around, watching those pictures again and again and munching on those delicious snacks that made their rounds endlessly. When we had our fill, we walked into the auditorium that was playing the looped presentation of those photographs that were displayed outside in the lawns.

It was a lovely evening and I am told that this book will be available in market next month.

Thursday Challenge

Picture clicked in Darjeeling during my recent trip

Linking this photo to Thursday Challenge…

Golden is the sunlight reflected on its leaves as it smiles,

Searching for its direction,

Chasing the Sun.

What a man likes in a woman

My BIL spends most of his evenings with his friends on the terrace, they sit togather, drinking, snacking and chatting.Today since my sister had gone off to a temple for Mata Devi darshan, I went with him to the terrace. I was sitting with his friends, enjoying the cool breeze and just listening to their conversation without taking part in any of their chat.

His friend, a baldy one in late 60s, was talking of his youth when he had to choose a bride for himself , he says...

At a marriagable age, I told my mom very clearly that there are three things that I will expect from the girl whom I marry.

One

She should not be too bony around her neck area, because when I wear her a diamond necklace it should look nice on her neck, if she is too bony then the necklace will look tilted and lop-sided

Two

When she smiles, there should be no gums visible, it looks very ugly then they have smaller teeth and large pink gums staring at you

Three-

She should have etiquettes and must not do funny things with her hands..like scratching unnecessarily, picking her nose or rubbing her face

Hahahaahaha!! What a creep!!!

Wordless Wednesday_ stray dog at teacher's meeting

Creative beggar

It is always embarrassing for me when the beggar knock on my car window at the signal especially when I am with my friend who is a foreigner. Some of the beggars harass my friends too much when they see their color (too white/too black)

There are many a times when I make up stories (fooling myself more than fooling others) that India is not as poor like it seems and that begging is just another profession which is a bit easier than the rest and that many people would rather beg then seek a proper employment. I always explain to them that beggars have very innovative ideas and sometimes quite hilarious too.

Like the incident that happened today.

No, we were not travelling by car today; I decided to take Lorenzo by auto, since she was highly amused by a three-wheeler that required no seat belts. Haha!

Lorenzo (my friend from Spain) and I were travelling in an auto when our auto-rickshaw stopped at red signal. A young guy with a red cap approached our auto with bunch of flowers in his hand. He removed one flower from the bunch and gave it to Lorenzo saying ‘Good morning, have a nice day”

Highly amused that this guy on the street spoke English, she removed Rs20 and gave to him.

The guy smiled and gave back Rs20 back to her saying that he was no beggar but was giving flowers to people just out of good will.

Lorenzo insisted that he take Rs20 and that it was not as a charity but that she wanted to give him.

The guy smiled and said that if she really wanted to help then she could give him money to buy milk powder for his child.

“Well then, buy milk powder for your child with this Rs20” said Lorenzo pushing the money back into his palm.

“Sorry ma’am.” he said handing Rs20 back to her, “But I cannot get milk powder for Rs20, I need Rs100 to buy the milk powder for my baby.”

Hahahaahaa!!

Talk about begging, this one is a royal beggar! He won’t accept Rs20 because he wants Rs100!!

I was thinking how many people had he fooled this way.

The signal changed to green

“Why don’t you ask you wife to breast feed your child instead” said Lorenzo angrily and snatched the money from his hand as I suppressed my grin.

The games has just begun

Yes, it is true, twenty days ago I wanted to disown Delhi.

I was disgusted with the 'don't care' paan stains screaming on the walls, the leaky roofs of 'chalta hai' attitudes, the filthy smell of corrupted money seeping into its gutters, the blame game, the exposure of truth..

I was embarrassed with the amount of money spend on CWG while we have beggars peeping through our car glass windows at every signal, children running barefoot on the streets behind the vehicles with flowers in their hand hoping that the person will change his mind and stop his car to buy flowers from him. There are not enough schools and hospitals, the city is forever under repairs and the people waste too much time stuck in a traffic jam.

What a shame!!!

The $80 toilet-paper rolls, the $61 soap dispensers, $125 first aid kits, the 30 crores worth of earthen pots, the 9 lacs for rented treadmill? All this in a country where people live on $2 a day? those who built the games? Ace photographer SAMAR JODHA captures the silent testimonials of the workers who have seen the most inhuman face of the CWG  and it is too painful to watch those pictures.

The whole world saw the altheletes' village photos and was disgusted. Dog paws on the mattresses, the filthy bathrooms, water logged venues, danger of mosquito infested marshy areas, the snakes….. how much more ugly can the situation get?

And ohhH! That collapsed bridge!

But still, we forgot all our anger on the day of opening ceremony.

We relished the show on National TV, (that bored us to tears with long interruption of lengthy ads.) We enjoyed and cheered on twitter and on Facebook, congratulating each other and puffing our chest with pride..

Loved that sand painting of Gandhiji’s dandi march, the dancers and the folk heritage

CWG opening ceremony proved that India stands united in art and culture.

Didn’t know there was so much money under the carpet that they could buy that gas balloon!!.  If only there was no corruption and greed, we could be bathing in prosperity. 

The question is 'how will we recover that 70 crores,"???? Will the life of those workers who built that village improve? Will our country be clean ever?

My material comfort lies in vasooli of that money...:)

I am at the receiving end ~ Part 8

My Pillars of strength- My Family and Friends

I am truly blessed


With a family and friends like mine who wouldn’t be?

My family is scattered all over the world but staying in Mumbai has its advantages, I get to meet everybody whenever they travel to India, and the best part is that they are all interested in my activities, proud of my decision to live on my own and are willing to accompany me to the school to meet the Special children for whom I care.

During this Joy of Giving Week I wish to thank my family who has given their financial and the moral support to the Special school on regular basis and have sponsored children for education, transport and other activities, and for the nutrition program.

During this Joy of Giving week I wish to thank –
Gitoo Shafizada, Asgar Shafizada, Neha Shafizada(Lagos), Suresh Moorjani, Meenu Moorjani(Tenerife), Kanchu Shadadpuri, Anil Shadadpuri(Las Palmas)Vinod Mirpuri, JaiKumar Mirpuri, Varsha Mirpuri, Nihalchand Mirpuri, Bindhiya Tekwani(Bangkok), Chandru Mirpuri, Hema Mirpuri, Meenu Sabnani, Dina Sabnani, Kenny Mirpuri, Asha Mirpuri, Roshelle Lachmandas, Dolly Mirpuri, Romesh Mirpuri (HongKong), Rinku Chugani, Aarti Sitaldas, Ram Sitaldas, Karina Sitaldas(Manila), Suresh Shivdasani(Texas), Sunil Mirpuri, Karishma Mirpuri (NewYork), Gina Balani(Curacoa), Kishore Daswani(Rome), Sonu Vaswani(Baroda), Devika Mirpuri, Moti Mirpuri, Kamlu Mansinghani, Suresh Mansinghani, (Poona) Rhea Motwani, Devka Mansukhni, Ram Mansukhani, Rachna Moorjani(Mumbai)

Also my sincere thanks to Mr Niresh Daryanani who has always been my guide and has helped me connect to other families in Tenerife: My sincere thanks to Bharti Bhavnani, Ashok Daryanani, Sr.Domingo, Arthur Kevin, Margaret Linklater, Sr. Franco, Hispano GB, Bhavna and Prakash Vaswani, Pinky and Hanisha, Sajni Daswani and Shenaz, Toni Khemlani and IBYS

Thank you all for your kind support.

My sincere thanks to all my friends who visited my blog during this week and actually read all the parts 1-8 patiently.

Thank you so much.

I am at the receiving end ~ 7

Kitty Parties with a heart

While all of India were twindling their thumbs, waiting for Ayodhya verdict, children at Swami Brahmanand were enjoying a delicious lunch of rice, dhal, vegetable, pickle, curd and Jalebi on30th September 2010. It was the special day, one of those days of  'Joy of Giving Week', and their lunch was sponsored by Lachu Daswani, a member of IWCA (Indian Women’s charity Association of Madrid)

IWCA members regularly sponsors meals for the children on certain memorable days, interacting with me on my BlackBerry or on email, we discuss the menu and the expenses while organizing the lunch. On regular days too, the under nourished children are grouped under nutrition program, where by they are given the portion of milk, biscuit and fruit everyday.

I.W.C.A. is a non-profit organization with over 160 members, borne from the need to help those less fortunate than them. While most of the rich women spend their time in kitty parties, in idle chat or in cards playing groups, the members of IWCA add a newer perspective to their parties.

During my last visit to Madrid, I had met this vibrant group and learnt about the various activities that these ladies perform regularly during their spare time with their mission to reach out to people in need, regardless of their caste and creed. They help by providing for education, basic amenities (food, water, and shelter), medical necessities and operate mainly in Spain and India.

Seven of the members are the sponsors of seven children at school providing school fees, uniform, transport, and other activities, by making a difference into the under-priviledged children's lives..

During this ‘Joy of Giving ' week, I take this opportunity to thank the members of IWCA: Minoo Hathiramani,Anmol Sukhwani Neetu Chugani, Haseen Mahthani, Kamlu Daswani, Ramesh Shamdasani, and members of IWCA, who help bring a smile to the children’s faces by catering to their nutritional and their educational needs

Thank you so much.

I am at the receiving end ~ Part 6

Help just arrives silently on tiptoes

Most of my friends, who know about my activities with Special children, express their desire to help, (almost everybody whom I have met have shown me that spark) but I am always at loss of words when they ask me how they can help, I truly don't know what to say and the first thing that comes to my mind is funding for the activities and giving monetary help to that school.

Money is the basic requirement for any project to keep afloat

But over the years I have realized that monetary help is not the only way that one can help , there are many more ways to show their support, which can done voluntarily or just by spreading awareness. Knowledge can be shared in many ways and there are many people out there who are not even aware that mentally challenged children can be trained and can contribute to the society if properly channelized.

It is just the matter of connecting the children through the right source, by creating opportunities for them so that they too can contribute in their small way and fit into the groove.

Word of mouth is the powerful medium of link

At this moment I would like to mention three of my FB friends who are doing just that.

Swagat Sen, who is documentary filmmaker and media fanatic, I know him from Ryze days when we used to share art and paintings on one art-forum. When he is not working, he spends lot of time reading, sharing links and spreading social messages on FB. I am so grateful to Swagat, for regularly spreading awareness about my school to his friends circle in biosphere.

Raamesh Gowri Raghavan, is a FB friend from Mumbai writers’ group. While most of the people spend their holidays, relaxing or enjoying with their family and friends, Raamesh donates his Saturday mornings voluntarily helping in the administrative work at school. He has become the integral part of the school and the teachers and students at school look forward to his regular weekly visits.

Pallavi Subramanium, a housewife from London and a very dear friend is the new entrant to my family of well wishers. She is the sponsor of one student and pays fees for the education, travelling and extra-curriculum activities of one child, making it possible for the child to avail of the facilities needed for training and education under an experienced teacher.

During this ‘Joy of Giving’ week, I take this opportunity to thank my friends Swagat, Raamesh and Pallavi for reaching out to special children and making a difference into their life.

Thank you so much!!