To Click or not to Click

It being the season of annual functions at schools, the air is thick with discussions around the same. In one such conversation, I heard a parent talk about schools’ policy of 'No photography or videography by parents '. While everybody was discussing the merits and demerits, I got reminded of an incident which made me agree with the schools’ stand. 

My husband and I were visiting Italy. The day on which we landed in Vatican City, happened to be an auspicious day in the Catholic calendar. We were thrilled to know that Pope was scheduled to address a gathering in St. Peter's Square.  Incidentally, it was my first outing with a new camcorder. Those were the days when handy cams were very new to the world. No doubt, I was very excited by the prospect of capturing Pope on my handy cam. My husband was equally cynical. "What is the point of capturing him on reel when you can see him for real? Why see him through a lens when given the excellent opportunity to see him face to face?" His logic was impeccable but being an eager novice, I did not want to let go of this golden opportunity. I needed a proof to show my folks back home!

We had reached the Square quite in time and found strategic positions to stand. It was drizzling but the crowd was still huge. Soon enough, we saw a cavalcade of cars and horses. The Pope came in his famous Popemobile. Though frail, he was standing and waving at the cheering crowd. I, in my nervous excitement, pointed the camcorder towards him. Torn between the wish to capture him in my mind's eye and the camera's eye, I tried to do both. After I got a glimpse of him, I tried to position the video camera. But in that nanosecond, his cavalcade turned to proceed to the dais. Cameras clicked and camcorders buzzed while my husband savoured the moment unencumbered with technology. We felt very lucky to be in Pope's presence albeit for a few moments. It was some divine guidance that had led us to Vatican City on that particular day and we thanked our stars for that.

Though I claimed to have seen the Pope, my husband teased me no end about fiddling with camcorder when the pontiff was right in front of me. I defended myself saying that I had captured the moment for eternity. You can imagine my shock when upon playing the cassette, all I could see was the overcast sky, tops of people's heads and a few failed attempts to focus on the Pope! That hazy memory and the still hazier film became fond mementos of my brief tryst with the Pope. 

The incident was a lesson for me to be more judicious with technology. Theoretically, I believe that a performance should be watched without worrying about capturing it. However, this learning will be put to real test when I attend my daughter’s first ever annual function next week!

PS: This write up was published in Deccan Herald's 'Right in the Middle' section on 20th March 2014:)

http://m.deccanherald.com/content/393176/reel-real.html/?secid=12914

Way to Party

Had I received an invite to Michelle Obama's 50th, I would have been quite happy with the 'Snacks & Sips & Dancing & Dessert' format. I always wonder why parties are mostly about food. There should be fun and games and lots of laughter. Food should be a sidekick and not the hero. But not many share my perception. Whenever it's a birthday, the first question that friends pop is "Where are you taking us for a treat?" Nobody asks where are we going for fun. Looks like food is the idea of fun for majority. I like good food but is this the only way to celebrate? I beg to differ. Thanks to Mrs. Obama, I get the courage to come out in the open. 

The thing is, I get into a huge dilemma at parties. I am a slow but an enthusiastic eater. At the same time, I love to socialize. But I am not able to do justice to both endeavors simultaneously. Juggling between commenting when the mouth is free and listening when the mouth is full is quite an art which I haven't mastered yet. It's like facial acrobatics. So I go around meeting people unburdened with a plate. Others, however, don't lose much time in starting their food odyssey. This makes me a late starter. By the time, I finish soup and starter, people are moving on to dessert. While I am still ploughing through my main course, people are already passing their verdict on dessert. As they put away their plates, they go past me whispering conspirationally 'Don't miss gulabjamuns. They are divine but getting scarce.' That stops me dead in my grind. Now I have to rush to gulabjamuns and make way for them in my plate which is already weighing under main course and....yeah, a third helping of gobi manchurian. So like a sangam, I have a triveni of starter, main course and dessert in my plate. Now I get a little sheepish and don't want to be seen as a greedy pig. I skulk in a corner and try to finish the damned fare, divine gulabjamuns and all. By the time I finish, the caterers are folding their linen and guests have started leaving. So much for my socializing hopes! 

The issue gets further accentuated at weddings. In big fat Indian weddings, there are so many dishes that I come back feeling bloated and defeated. Tummy space is at a premium and should not be filled with plebeian noodles but devoted to exotic walnut halwa. Did I use the space judiciously, is my perpetual worry. My request to hosts is that instead of serving so much food on one single evening, they sponsor one dish every day of the month or two dishes for a fortnight for me - the choice is theirs. I am quite an adjusting person really. 

So if I were at Mrs. Obama's party, I could have easily danced and socialized without worrying about "Have I taken enough helpings of that heavenly starter so as not to regret later?" Her party would be more about fun and less about food. I wouldn’t have to rack my brains on what to eat and what to give a miss. And I could eat more of less - I hope there would have been no limits on number of servings? More helpings of limited starters and desserts, that would have been my strategy. Was that allowed, Mrs. Obama? 

My only grudge to an otherwise perfect invite is 'Eat before you come' part. It sounded rather matronly. Agreed she's mom-in-chief but the guests coming over weren’t exactly kids. I was planning to eat just enough so that my tummy wouldn’t have grumbled when I wished Mrs. Obama happy 50th. 

As for a party favor, gift vouchers for a Michelin starred restaurant wouldn't have been amiss!

PS: This piece was published in Deccan Herald 'Right in the Middle' section. 

http://m.deccanherald.com/content/387668/way-party.html/?secid=12914

PPS: Wondering how to celebrate the published piece :)

Rise of Aam Aurat

Two cities. Two bus rides. One issue. One solution. 

Scene 1: 

I was visiting my in-laws in Jaipur and had gone shopping with my sister-in-law. It was evening when we had called it a day and decided to take a bus back. As soon as we boarded the bus and found our bearings and straps to hold on to, we found an argument brewing in the front seats. A man was occupying ladies' seat while a lady was standing with a kid in her lap. Two other ladies' seats were occupied by men. All women spoke up against this discrepancy but the men kept sitting shamelessly.The conductor was summoned. He was boyish and his requests went unheard. Unable to do much, he proceeded to collect fare. We ladies decided that if the conductor couldn't get the seats vacated, he wasn't getting any fare from us. This flared him up all right. He asked "Are you sure you don't want to pay?" We chorused YES. He repeated his question and got the same answer. His voice had somehow found steel, which was clearly missing while dealing with the erring men. He then called up someone to report that women were refusing to pay the fare. We egged him on to report the reason for non-cooperation, which he ignored. There was a lot of commotion in the bus. The conductor said that the bus was being taken back to the depot. We were new to the city and couldn't figure out if we were going towards our destination or away from it. The bus was moving in fits and starts and finally it stopped near traffic policemen. One of the men got up from ladies' seat and slithered down the exit! When a cop entered the bus, the guy in the front started getting up. He was taunted by women to hold on to his seat. He delivered a sob story to the policeman that he was ill and was returning from a doctor's visit. This was totally a new angle and excuse. 

However, after the intervention of cops, the seats were vacated and ladies were given their due. 

We then happily paid the fare. The disappointing note was the indifferent behavior of bus driver and conductor towards the whole episode.

However, I was very impressed that women took a stance and got their right.

Scene 2: 

I boarded a bus in Bangalore at Kalasipalyam. Having boarded the bus at source, I easily got a 

seat at the front. Later, a few ladies boarded the bus and found two men occupying ladies' seat. They asked the men to vacate these seats. The men started shouting and turned abusive. I could not follow the actual conversation as it was in Kannada but the gist wasn't hard to get. The ladies found other seats for themselves but one of them was a crusader for justice. She went down to look for the conductor and came back with him and a cop. As soon as these officials entered the scene, the men came up with silly excuses. "There was an emergency call which I had to take" said one. They were however ordered to get up and this time, they complied. 

In both instances, women had spoken up. They did not take things lying down. Hats off to this spirit which will subtly but surely bring winds of  change in our country.

Singapore Sojourn - No Food or Drink on Public Transport

One of the first Singaporean experiences was boarding an MRT. I had been warned that there was a no food-no drinks policy on Singapore's public transport. Not even a sip of water is allowed - kids and babies included. The rule is valid on platforms too. Simply stated, once you have crossed the turnstiles, you can't eat or drink. 

I wonder what my bro would do on MRT. You can't separate him from his bottle. He is perpetually thirsty. Er, don't get me wrong - it's not the same thirst as Captain Haddock's. Far from it. He doesn't touch a drop of alcohol. He is a health freak and takes the rule of 8 glasses of water a day to his heart. If you haven't seen him sipping water every 30 minutes, then surely every 31st! What would a guy like him do? Though Singapore is a small place, it is big enough to have long commutes. We have spent many an hour on the MRT. So if the like of him has to undertake an hour long commute, he will have to get down the train, get out of the platform, take a fill of water, get in again and catch the next train. It would be time-consuming and I guess a tad expensive too because he will have to swipe out his card and swipe it in again. 

I discussed this policy with my friends in Singapore and they were quite in favour of it. No eating/ drinking = no litter = no dustbins = no cleaning up of dustbins and no smells. It's definitely a clean place. It's a hot country but the MRT is air conditioned and temperatures inside are cool so you aren't sweating. In fact, most of the times, I was more comfortable wearing a jacket. Though we never faced any major inconvenience due to this rule, I felt that freedom of choice should be good, especially with a toddler in tow. I do appreciate the cleanliness part but wonder if long-term health benefits might outweigh the cleanliness aspect. 

I have been on metros in London and Stockholm. They had no restrictions on consuming food on board. I don't remember about them being particularly unclean. But then, I have not used the tube avidly. In Stockholm, reams of Metro newspaper (it's a free paper and is kept at the entrance of all major stops) would be found on seats and this did make trains a little untidy but again, it's better that people read something than banning paper on metro. 

I also tried to find the policy of other Asian countries on this issue. Hong Kong has the same rule. A friend told me that in Japan, there is no such policy but the trains are anyway too crowded to eat. Watching this video, it felt that if all your body parts are inside the train, within your reach and not entangled, you could count yourself lucky! 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=-UuX2Enazf4

The Singapore experience reinforced the belief that human race can adjust to everything. Habits can be developed and one learns to drink or eat before boarding the MRT. This disciplined nation has sure learnt to survive without snacking in the MRT and if they are happy with this, we the tourists can definitely take it in our stride.

Life's Little Pleasures

Ever since I stayed in Europe, I have dreamt of geranium filled window boxes outside my apartment. They look so charming and give an instant dash of  colour and vivaciousness to any house.

To my surprise and disappointment, I haven't seen many balconies adorned with window boxes in Bangalore. The garden city boasts of lovely weather which is conducive to plants - geraniums or otherwise. The population is well-travelled and exposed to cosmopolitan culture. However, window boxes haven't materialised on balconies as profusely as pastas have in kitchens or crocs have on feet.

I was on a lookout for window box hangers for my balcony railing for like forever. So when I saw these hangers at my cousin's neighbour in Singapore, I knew what was going back with me in my limited baggage allowance!

Though I couldn't find rectangular stands for classic window boxes, I was quite happy with what I could get at Daiso. 

  Everyone who has seen them on the balcony railing has gone wow and has been waiting to see them bloom.

A picnic to outskirts of Bangalore and the wait is over. It's bloom time!

Enroute Sawandurga, I found many nurseries. Some green shopping done and now my balcony looks a lot more cheerful. I can sit back and enjoy life's little pleasures. Looking forward to a burst of blooms to colour my balcony red! Now I wish I should have gotten more - for the other balcony and for gifting :)

Feeling unloved? Head to an English Farmers' Market

"How much are those cherries for?"

"2 quids a box, love."

"And tomatoes?"

"A pound for a pound, darling."

I was just a week old in Reading, England, when I went shopping at a farmers’ market. I was aghast and gawked for a moment. The prices didn't register....what rang in my ears was the 'darling' bit. How could he? I gave him a withering look and moved on to the next stall. 'What do you want, love?' Here too, the conversation followed the same pattern. I was rattled. Then mercifully, another lady came along and she got 'loved' and 'darlinged' the same way and so did the third. None of them took any affront and went right ahead choosing their cucumbers and tomatoes. So it wasn't just me after all! I stepped back and observed the conversations. I noticed that 'love', 'darling', 'sweetheart' and 'honey' were pouring down as thick and fast as the English rain. All shopkeepers, whether male or female, addressed their customers with these affectionate words.

In due time, I got used to the fact that English say these words in a similar vein as Gujaratis use 'ben'/'bhai' and Kannadigas say ''ma'/'pa'. In fact, 'ben' and 'bhai' are so inherent to Gujarati language that a husband doesn't bat an eyelid when addressing his wife as a certain 'ben'. These appendages are just a way of addressing and should be taken with a pinch of salt. Slowly, I got used to being addressed as 'love' and 'darling' in such markets and shops and never took them literally. The only grouse I nursed now was against my husband to whom I complained jokingly that I was called 'darling' and 'honey' much too often by shopkeepers than by my own husband. This time, it was my turn to get a withering look!

So if you find yourself on English shores and feel a need for love, head to a farmers' market where love is always in the air. You will sure feel loved. There’s a hitch though. Farmers' market happens only on certain days of the week. If you want love on any other day, you better look for alternatives. 

This post was published as a middle in 'Right in the Middle' section of Deccan Herald.
http://www.deccanherald.com/content/465431/looking-love.html

Confusions of a new mom

Dated: Sometime in April, 2010

Advise, comments, opinions abound.
Mired in the sea of gyaan from books, paediatrician, google, baby centre, real life experiences, other moms, my mom and who not!

What is a good start to solids?

Should fruits or veggies be the first in line? Should citrus juices be given or not?

Should fat be given? How much? What about salt and sugar?

Should I feed her only organic stuff?

How do I ensure that food from all the food groups has been fed on a daily basis?

Are her nutritional requirements being met?

How do I know if I am feeding enough? How many meals should be given and how frequently?

Apart from health issues, apparently emotional and psychological angle has also to be taken care of.

If  I don't give her sugar in the first year, will she not develop a taste for it later on?

If  I give her bland food which she doesn't like, will she get turned off from food all her life?

If I force feed her, will she be put off from food?

If I don't insist on her finishing meals, will she get a wrong message? More important, will she get her nutrition?

It looks like a case of damned if you do, damned if you don't!

God save the new mom :)