Under the weather

A sleepless, restless night. Running nose and continuous cough. The body all wearied  out. Each cell screaming its existence to draw attention. The morning bell rings and I wake up with a soar throat,nose and head. All that the body desires is to get back under the quilt and laze. Alas! It's worthless as the aches,sneeze,sniffs,croup keep me company. The eyes glance at the clock and the soon to be readied school girls. Sob! No nerve today! 

Some high priority calls to dial. The kids' respective bus drivers to be communicated about the no pick up today. Call at my work to substitute the day's schedule. And finally, the call to my father, our family doctor who saved me from the unmanageable queuing at the local doctor's today! The viral had crept in and fever followed. Husband got the prescribed pills from the chemist before he hurriedly gathered himself to leave for office. No breakfast and no lunch packed today! What was to follow would be a real rough day with the kids at home and their energies all high! Absence from school for no genuine reason would be a treat for the day!

The antibiotics could not be swallowed empty stomach, so a healthy breakfast was a must. The craving was for some hot,spicy soup. Some extra spicy noodles. Like the ones you get in a pure Indian customised Chinese roadside stall! But the consequences would be disastrous. Hence, the sane plan. Oh! How much I miss you, mamma! Had you been with me, I would have got a real healthy, nutritious home made soup to begin with. What would have followed is something I can only dream of now!

As I pulled myself together and made my way to the kitchen, the mother in me became the doer and priorities changed. I should first cook for the kids. There was fresh milk to be boiled. Some milk porridge to be steamed as kids wouldn't relish the 'dal ka daliya' which was on the menu for me. There wasn't any fresh stock of vegetables in the refrigerator. Express delivery by BigBasket was the saviour. No cash hurdle too. Thanks to the online payment options. Before the breakfast was ready, kids were up and ready to embrace their exciting day. 

The curious elder had a set of queries to understand why the day seemed different and why a Monday morning appeared to be a weekend. Very patiently, in a husky voice, with numerous interrupts to the wash basin (Well! Am not a tissue person. Just can't hold the phlegm and feel completely dissatisfied until it's flushed under running water. That gives a clear picture of the frequency of visits to the washroom. Every three and a half minutes to be precise!) , a memorandum was set up for the day. Or so I thought! 

The kids had a splash together in the bathroom, nothing lesser than their annual Holi festival! So, though the idea was not to strain myself bathing both of them, the washroom did demand a proper cleaning up to the seven feet tall tiled walls. Ignorance would complement the doctor's prescription and I quickly took a hasty shower, grabbed my porridge prepared with the humble 'moong Ki daal', a recipe perfectly nutritious and satisfactory to my taste buds (which hated anything sweet for the day). 

I had my medicine dosage and sneaked under the blanket to rest. 

The family protocol was clear and the kids knew they couldn't venture playing out of the house. Of course, there was no stopping them with the planned mischief in their room. Throat had given up and I was voiceless. The medicine induced the sleep, I guess as my restless mind slowly became incapable of keeping the mental watch on the kids' activities. 

It had been roughly an hour when I woke up to an abrupt thud! I rushed into their room and thanked God the kids were safe. It was only a chair that had fallen. Poor children were waiting for a severe scolding. Thanks to the mute me, I could respond instead of reacting and whispered them to have their lunch. By now the body had gathered some strength and was craving for food. Fresh bottle gourd with a dash of lemon and some hot phulkas that didn't take me long to prepare left all three of us satisfied to the core. It was time for the kids to retire to bed for their afternoon nap and I took the R.K.Narayan's book, covering myself comfortably under the blanket. When did I doze off again, I remember not. 

The evening approached with a sense of guilt for the home was all topsy turvy and the cook declared her unannounced day off! It was my turn to chop a lot of veggies for dinner. The restless me had planned pav bhaji and the season's first 'gajar ka halwa'. Husband dear returned home earlier than usual with some hot 'kachoris' that was just what the palette craved for. How would the day 2 pass was the big question to be dealt with next morning! 

"For my loving students who continue to inspire me and help me grow."

Look inside your heart, for a dream is waiting there,
To encourage and inspire you, to take you anywhere.
                             Listen to your dream, for it calls out sweet and clear.
                             And beckons you to follow without doubt and without fear!
Feel the power of  your dream, for the strength that it will give
Will help you find your happiness, everyday you live!

I wish you all,  a happy heart! A heart free to dream, a heart open to life!
              

Feels good to grow older!

"I like the feel of your name on my lips

And I like the sound of your sweet gentle kiss

The way that your fingers run through my hair

And how your scent lingers even when you're not there

And I like the way your eyes dance when you laugh...."

'Boyzone' had set the mood on!

Music has that power! A strong pull! It takes you back in time to when you first heard it or when you often use to hear it, if it's an old record. At the same time, it sets up some new memory cells getting born in your mind's database, especially if it's the new track on the speaker.

Soon I found myself glancing in the mirror. Perhaps the only true physical reflection that had a lot to say! As I ran my fingers through my hair and focussed my gaze on the partition, I acknowledged the grey hair follicles depicting adulthood. I hope I've used my 'grey cells' well and wish to keep exercising them regularly keeping those neurons filled with vigor!

Thirty four years on this planet. What pride! Each day is life earned and lived well! Every passing day being a new learning! Did I ever imagine I would learn to swim in my twenties and my Karate training would begin in my thirties! Numbers are mere records to let the doctor know how biologically old the mass of body we're carrying is. It's the feeling and the enjoyment of belonging to the world that keeps us high spirited. 

If I ponder on how gracefully I'd like to age and foresee myself draped in those gorgeous six yards of Cotton or Silk, donning a bigger 'Bindi' and a natural grey hairdo, I'd be losing the present! On the eve of birthday, all I would focus on would be to live the greatest blessing, called 'Life'!

Time to have some cake. Cheers!

 

A Reunion we longed for!

One fine Tuesday as the clock was about to strike midday, I gathered myself with my coffee mug and the day's newspaper when suddenly my phone whistled to a ping on WhatsApp. It's not the group chats that I am keen to check as soon as they ping, they're all in silent notifications. Nevertheless, my phone does whistle when individuals ping me. At least this ensures I can respond if am not engaged. So this was an unknown number and as per the protocols of networking, the sender ensured she introduced herself. Thus affirming two engineers were on either side of the communication channel!

The call sounded formal. It was probably the years between the calls that tried to distant the conversation yet amity turned the time's wicked intent down. The dialogue ended in an informal note zooming across the time defeating it by connecting the hearts! It was an invite for a college reunion! And the prompt response was a big "Yes, am in!".

This was not a regular event. We had not met since we passed college. It has been over a decade that I've been in Bengaluru, my acquired home town. I wasn't born or brought up here. My origin lies in the foothills of the Himalayas! 'Namma Bengaluru' as we call it is where I started my career, settled after marriage, birthed my daughters and explore what parenting holds for me with each passing day. The city keeps us on our toes and has turned us into a constant planner scheduling and rescheduling our days according to the traffic! Alas! What a catalyst! Since 2006, many of my college mates shuttled between the Silicon Valley of India and the rest of the world. I had been in touch with most of them. Yet meeting as many of us as possible together had just never occurred! This was it!

  

There's this concept of Priority Scheduling in Operating Systems, Computer Science. If a high priority job enters the queue, all the other tasks wait for it to complete. This was exactly our attained state of mind by now! Come what may, we were to meet. And we had to do so at the earliest. Thus followed a series of pings, buzzes, chats, calls, mails and posts. Good to be living in the era of technology. We were sorted! The following Saturday was our date! Just three days away!

Saturdays are Karate mornings for me and my daughter, a busy one. Succeeding which  I had to depart for the venue where we planned an 'Only Friends' Meet'. No, we were not on a secretive mission! Our intent was to re-live our college days all over again at luncheon with a noble thought not resulting in boredom for anyone. Hence, no families this time.

While I was still battling my way through the mean traffic congestion, thankfully not behind the car wheels, which allowed me to check the WhatsApp message, the 'Ms. Punctual' announced her arrival at the venue. Butterflies fluttered in my gut and I shifted from one end of the car seat to the other, breathing deeply trying to relax and travel patiently. This happens with me every time time runs ahead of me! My chronic condition! The chat looked very tensing with the others pinging their respective arrivals soon. New ideas are born just at these testing times! I pretended to be too ignorant on the chat to believe that the meeting was scheduled the same day, and I bluffed that I missed remembering the date! Emojis assisted the melodrama. Thus triggering a bullwhip effect that lasted for quite a while leaving me with spurts of laughter!

Finally, we all were there! 

                            

  

Hugs, Kisses, Hellos and Hi were just the onset of what was to unfold! Now that's what an enduring friendship is. The twinkle in the eyes, the beaming smile, the everlasting chatter! No matter how many years pass when you meet, you're brought back exactly to that moment you were together with flashes of fond memories taking a hold on their rightful share. And then you want to narrate and narrate again and you don't mind telling the same story umpteen times until all at the table are aligned to what is heard! This is interleaved by the cackle with the mouthful . Manners have no room today! You speak in all your forms. The maiden that you were, the grad that you became together, the mother, the wifey, the employee, the athlete in you! Your pompous speech tells it all and everyone relates to it with a dash of their own experiences.

We were all at our high with no pegs down! Credit to 'Our Spirit' and none to any 'Spirit'. Our seating arrangement was aptly chosen. We were all by ourselves, the noisy corner table. What was the menu? I'm not the right person to jot that down. Something I don't remember at all! Yet, if someone asks me to review the restaurant, I'll rate it high. The four hours that we spent there were enriching, jovial and would have certainly released a high level of endorphins in our systems refreshing us to the core!

Such was our beatitudes that we didn't check we paid one head extra in the bill until the restauranteur approached us with an apologetic note highlighting the error in their cheque.

For us all that mattered was the priceless Saturday afternoon very well spent! And I returned home with a souvenir for my dolls that adorned their doll!

Martial art at Thirty Three

Popped out eyes, just the way Tom, the cat displays on spotting Jerry, the mouse! Flabbergasted, derisive, satirical twist of the lips, hysterical laughter that ceases when their eyes meet my stone faced look. These are the expressions which have become a usual routine of my Weekend mornings. Venue is any of the Sagar Ratnas which pack our idly-dosa breakfast or the the traffic signals where a glance through the driver's car window gives a clear glimpse of the 'Karategi', or any ATM where I would pause to draw some cash. No, the Bengaluru city does not host any fancy dress competitions every weekend where we would dress up in the same outfit every time, nor are we advertising for the Mommy and Me matching collection. My daughter and I are the students of the 'Joshinmon Shorin Ryu Karate-Do Federation of India' 

One fine evening, on my way back from work, I de routed my path to reach home. It wasn't a major diversion. The routine main road to home was congested, a normal sight in the city that is designed with the mains and crosses all over. And atypical to my practice I started taking perpendicular roads as an alternate path to reach home. It was on this one less traversed street canopied by Gulmohur trees that by fluke my eyes were arrested by the board that displayed Karate Classes. Ever felt the adrenaline rush that gives an extra power to that right foot of yours which oscillates between the brake and the accelerator? I halted my car abruptly. Thank heavens there wasn't one behind me! I noted the timings and the contacts and with a broad smile headed home. This is it! Time to live a long forgotten dream! The decision was final then and there, on the road less travelled!

Unlike Kill Bill's Uma Thurman, I do not aim a revenge. No. I am at peace! I had always wished to learn the art of self defence and practice a martial art. Joshinmon Shorin Ryu was named based on Grand Master Hoshu Ikeda's philosophy that,  "You cannot teach karate as a means for harming another man. There's so much more to karate living than mere punching and kicking." Joshinmon's unique qualities include its use of speed and accuracy over brute force. And it was only when I plunged into it, I realised that it is a pathway to spirituality! 

I have never been a sportsperson. The only occasions when I would have curled my fingers to form a fist would be while wearing those jumpers in the Dun winters or while kneading the dough. So when the Karate Master asked me to make a punch, I knew all the wrong ways but the right one. The Japanese phrase Karate-do means 'the way of the empty hand'. I had no clue folding the fingers in the particular manner would turn my hand into a power punch! Certainly, it was time to rediscover my body! I realised there was friction all over. All my body lubricants had faded like a vanishing cream! I could hardly jump on two legs, forget balancing on one! While my comate, my daughter jumped twenty times on the count of ten, I could barely hop five yet dittoed panting like a dog! 'Seiza', the Japanese traditional way of sitting would ache my ankles. A split or a roll on the ground was certainly out of question! I distinctly remember that Monday two hours Data Structures lecture which I delivered draped in a pleated saree on heels with every possible muscle of my wearied body aching in pain. I had attended my first karate session on the prior weekend! 

Every quarter the Federation conducts the Belt Tests. An entire day of persistent  gruelling of the participants ends up with the declaration of results in the evening. In my belt group, I'm the oldest. Quite an amusing figure for all the children around! I still don't believe that I can somersault on the ground when the Chief Technical Director of India tests my attainment. Thus, the only factor that helps me progress is the will power and my constant companion, my little, big lassie! As of now, the journey is undoubtedly an interesting and motivating one. Cheers to what follows!