26.12.10
9.12.10
11.11.10
The Lesser Evil
A four year old boy who screamed and held on to mama at the very sight of the pool, made everyone stop in their watery tracks as he reached an unimaginable decibel when the lady coach in charge of training the 'little people' (!) got him to wet his feet!
An hour later, energy intact, his sobbing continued as he waded from one end of the pool to the other (breadth-wise!). But our coach's patience was probably thinning because, soon she requested one of the male coaches to take over her 'difficult customer'.
Five minutes and a deep baritone (coaxing, bribing and lightly intimidating) later, the little one began crying anew - this time for the lady coach!
I guess we learn to choose the lesser evil very early on in life! An evolutionary trait, perhaps!
An hour later, energy intact, his sobbing continued as he waded from one end of the pool to the other (breadth-wise!). But our coach's patience was probably thinning because, soon she requested one of the male coaches to take over her 'difficult customer'.
Five minutes and a deep baritone (coaxing, bribing and lightly intimidating) later, the little one began crying anew - this time for the lady coach!
I guess we learn to choose the lesser evil very early on in life! An evolutionary trait, perhaps!
25.9.10
Get, set, weird.
On Saturdays my auto pilot usually switches to full blast mode. That the roads in Chennai aren't bursting at their seams and I'm not invading anyone's vehicular personal space, is all the more reason for my subconscious to really do its 'thang'. So, today, when I was just enjoying the kind of empty roads and pretending to be a signora, I saw a car, with "Anti- Street Racing Force - Government of India" stamped across its rear. Now, that really woke me up. I've never, ever heard of such a thing, and that too in India and that too in Chennai. I mean, sure I've scrunched my eyes, stamped my feet and hollered at the many young adults and late teens who seem to make dangerous riding their one-thing-to-do-in-life. But, an actual FORCE, that too by the government, against street racing?! My wheels were turning, I could feel it.
And suddenly they stopped.
For right at that moment, a really saucy looking yellow bike cut across my path.
And then they started moving at high speed.
On the bike was inscribed the following,
"Come behind me,
Honk Thrice,
The race begins."
Ironic?! Maybe. Weeeeeeeeeeeeeyerrrrd? More like it!
And suddenly they stopped.
For right at that moment, a really saucy looking yellow bike cut across my path.
And then they started moving at high speed.
On the bike was inscribed the following,
"Come behind me,
Honk Thrice,
The race begins."
Ironic?! Maybe. Weeeeeeeeeeeeeyerrrrd? More like it!
10.9.10
The innocent law breaker
Today, unknowingly, by mistake, accidentally, theriyama, unintentionally, in all innocence;
I jumped a traffic signal. Gulp.
Barely escaped the talons of law as a traffic policeman started towards me. GULP.
Mouthed a heartfelt sorry to him, from within a very protective helmet, even as his fierce brows came together. GULLLPPP.
Raced away, checking my rear view mirror for MILES, for blazing blue lights, white shirts, khakhi pants and AK 47s.
Learnt, at great risk (brrr..), that intuition doesn’t work at traffic signals.
Phew.
I jumped a traffic signal. Gulp.
Barely escaped the talons of law as a traffic policeman started towards me. GULP.
Mouthed a heartfelt sorry to him, from within a very protective helmet, even as his fierce brows came together. GULLLPPP.
Raced away, checking my rear view mirror for MILES, for blazing blue lights, white shirts, khakhi pants and AK 47s.
Learnt, at great risk (brrr..), that intuition doesn’t work at traffic signals.
Phew.
8.8.10
3.7.10
Return Gift
Saw this North Indian girl in the gym, speaking flawless Tamil to the trainer, and realized that the greatest respect, someone can show to a place they live and work in, that's not theirs to start with, is to learn its language and speak it.
9.4.10
Seeing beyond the scene
Beautiful photographs makes my heart ache with longing. (Sometimes) my eyes begin to well up with tears and I begin to pine for some unknown thing. This onslaught of puberty like symptoms was recently (and thankfully) laid to rest when I discovered that, the pining is a result of the resigned acceptance of my inability to 'see' the way a photographer does.
15.3.10
Way to Happy Valley
As with most of life's revelations, I got one of my favorites at a mundane moment in the peak of summer. Cruising down Mount Road, the sun beating down my back and the road letting off its heat as mirages, the saying that 'when everything's perfect, something's wrong' hit me bang in between my eyes as being so right. Since then, I've developed a respect for the many imperfections we come across in life, realizing that its the dash of' lemon', that brings out the flavor. Imperfections are like the crunch in the salad, the almonds on the ice cream, the poppy seeds on a complimentary batch of warm bread.
Perfection is magnificent. Like the balance of our universe, like the way our bodies are formed, like the seasons, like the sun, the moon, the ocean. Like the the Creator and Organizer of all these. But looking for perfection in our own lives is a guaranteed way to Unhappy Valley. Accepting imperfections (which is NOT a synonym for mediocrity) is like coloring within the lines, with an erasable crayon - takes the pressure off!
Perfection is magnificent. Like the balance of our universe, like the way our bodies are formed, like the seasons, like the sun, the moon, the ocean. Like the the Creator and Organizer of all these. But looking for perfection in our own lives is a guaranteed way to Unhappy Valley. Accepting imperfections (which is NOT a synonym for mediocrity) is like coloring within the lines, with an erasable crayon - takes the pressure off!
28.1.10
Pure joy is...
....when an infant accepts my outstretched arms and laughs when I make funny faces and sounds. Because, it has no expectations. More so, because, I know that I cannot influence it. So when a baby, even for a moment, smiles at me, it is smiling at that minute, small, imperceptible innocence that is left in me.
Isn't it like that knows like?
Isn't it like that knows like?
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