'The Lintel Day'

The air outside seemed calmer and fresher than it had been yesterday. For many months now, the construction of a new residential building has been in full swing. The land which grew coconut trees adjacent to my apartment was shaved down to meet the business, market residential needs of some more Bangaloreans. A single file of eight trees separated our building from the construction site. Perhaps, the builder left these trees to grow as he had to meet his marketing need. They proudly call it 'The Coco Gooves'! I'm blessed enough to still see the massive coconut leaves touch my balcony railing. My daughter has  been delightedly calling them 'the dancing leaves'. I wonder if I can really curse this development resulting in deforestation, having been a customer turned resident of my building constructed on the then Coconut Garden!

Yesterday was very noisy and chaotic. The construction plan was to build the lintel across the first floor. In the architectural world, there is something really crucial about the day the lintel is build. Being an outsider, I cannot comment much on the technology involved and the engineering details. However, since my childhood there have been many construction sites that I've come across. The Lintel Day has always been quite significant. I remember how my grandmother worshipped the entire site and all the tools used for construction of lintel for my uncle's house. She religiously monitored the proceedings for that day without budging an inch from her chair. For a septuagenarian, it was incredible. With a lot of conviction she said, "we cannot let anything go wrong while building the lintel."

Last morning, the road was blocked on our way to my daughter's school. Several trucks fully loaded with building material jammed the road just outside our apartment. Commotion kept building throughout the day with an army of labours working hard at the site. There was a churner that occupied the central position and kept churning noisily throughout the day. Around ten labours, both men and women kept filling the churner with sand, water, mud and gravel. This churned material was transferred to a wheel barrow on rails by the help of a pulley. There were two men manually rolling the wheel barrow to the site of the lintel and back for refill. A skilled mason, rarely seen on the construction site was craftily laying down the lintel. The entire team of around fifty labours were yelling, calling, screaming and very noisily working endlessly. I wonder the constant yelling gave them the kick to work assiduously. By evening the sounds kept diminishing gradually. Indeed, the lintel was laid accurately.

Today, when I took my car out of the driveway, the road was clear. The entire construction material was consumed the previous day making the road broader than it has been for months. The churner stood majestically resting in the centre of the site. It was scrubbed spick and span after use to keep it  shining until the next 'lintel day'.

Avani's first day to PrepSchool

Date: 29 Sep,'11 . Avani's 16+ months old.

Today is Avani's first day to school. We decided to give her an exposure of spending time out of home with other kids. Until now Avani always use to be at home with me, her momma. She was under my care all day long. Sending her to school was one of the big decisions that we took. It was hard initially to decide as being a parent the possession of the child dominated any thought of separation.

Having visited the school twice before and satisying myself with the safety, hygiene and care for the child, I decided to drop her to school today. She was enrolled in the Daycare group for 2 hours per day. The morning was a busy one, from Avani freshing herself to giving her a timely bath, followed by breakfast and packing for the school. There were many new thoughts that kept popping up, ranging from what should be the tiffin I should prepare for her to keeping the lunch ready for her when she arrives home. The busy hours kept me on my toes.

Finally I was at school, and the time had come when I had to leave my sweet heart and wave goodbye. This was a really painstaking period. I decided to be around the campus for the next 2 hours while Avani was in school so that I would be available as and when needed. The teachers assured me not to get anxious and leave for home but the mother inside me would not listen! 

Finally, I resorted to a nearby cafe and decided to wait. The hour and a half that I spent in the cafe was mixed with several feelings. I had a quiet place all by myself to read or write. But every now and then my heart use to ache, having parted with my Princess! I called the teacher twice in this time span to know Avani's whereabouts and learnt that "All was Well".

At last the time had come for me to get Avani. My heart flooded with happiness when I saw her engrossed playing merrily with the kids. Indeed, Avani had a great time at school where she cried in fun and laughed excitedly with her peers. She had a great exposure and enjoyed the company of other toddlers. I prayed silently thanking God for always being around and protecting our baby.

The Immortals of Meluha

SHIVA! Who is he?  A valiant warrior,  an extraordinary dancer, a true friend, a passionate lover or a GOD sent messenger much revered as the "Neelkanth"? Shiva, the hero of "The Immortals of Meluha" is a tribal from Tibet. He is a man with intellect, a human with a soft heart, a humble, composed  personality, witty with a great sense of humor.

The author has adorably crafted Shiva. The entire book keeps you glued till the end, craving for more of Shiva's adventures. Perhaps, every single character in the book owes its existence to the relation it shares with Shiva. The work appears to be a fiction with mythological names and characters. Infact, this is the core competency with which the writer steals the reader's heart. The story is fascinating, adventurous, legendary, scrupulous and open to interpretation.

However, the writer needs to meet the reader's expectations now. I'm hoping all the open loops in "Shiva Trilogy-I" get successfully closed in the subsequent books. All the best, Amish! :-)

Visit to "The MTR"

It was Makar Sankranti, a festival celebrated for innumerable reasons in India depending on the climate, agricultural environment, cultural background and location. It universally holds its significance throughout the country as the harvest festival. Fortunate as we happened to be, the corporate offices had declared a holiday on the day. We'd heard a lot about MTR, the famous tiffin outlet in South India, but never really had got a chance for an eat out. So we grabbed the holiday as one such opportunity.

We reached the restaurant which was located amidst the busiest of markets on Lalbagh Road. The first impression of the outlet disappointed us as it resembled a small tuck shop where people would gather for tiffin. We had our expectations right in our minds of tasting the South Indian delicacies, the MTR way! These would comprise of the Masala Dosa, Idli, Vada, Uttapam and the like. As we stepped into the restaurant, we noticed a small counter attended by an extremely busy person who was dexterously issuing coupons for meals to the customer. There was no menucard for display. Apparently, we learned that only "Meals" were served during the hour of the day we went to eat. What would a Meal comprise of? This was our next question to the attendant at the counter. Obviously, he was too busy to reply, more so we realized we were acting as a bottleneck to the fast moving queue there! Quickly he pointed out his index finger to the white board displayed on the side wall, which we happened to miss. Glancing at the items listed in the meal, gave us no clue at all on what was in store for us. So undoubtedly as instructed by our starving stomachs we took the coupon for “The Meal” and was directed to move to the first floor.

Least did we ever imagine that the first floor would lead us to a waiting hall full of people sitting on benches awaiting an aged man who sat at the door to the next hall calling out their coupon number vociferously in order! This was no less than a waiting room one finds at the Railway Station.

So,.. our coupon number was 36 and as per the process we were supposed to wait. While we waited for our turn to hit the dining table, I scanned the waiting room form one end to the other. The hall was filled with people from all age groups. While there were toddlers around, one could also see many women and men in the bracket of 40-60 years mostly dressed in the cultural attires. There were young couples too waiting patiently for their turn. No one seemed as restless as we were. And then I noticed the calm each person carried on his or her face. Certainly, this was not their first visit to the MTR and they were quite familiarized with the process followed. Unlike us who used to time and again pay a trip to the counter to check our waiting time, others were busy chatting and waited sedately for their turn.

At last we heard a loud call for Number 36 and with a tick marked in our coupon, we were directed to a dining hall with dishes placed on the table. These were the steel dishes with fragments that one usually happens to have had first come across in their hostel mess! The dining hall was spick and span and we were given a table for four which we were supposed to share with an old man. So, following the best-fit arrangement, 3 of us were served lunch at the table. We felt a sense of intrusion initially, but while we waited for the helpers to serve us the food, the old man seated opposite to us happened to make us at peace with his presence. He would be around 60 years of age and had a serene look that created a fatherly aura around him.

Without any further delay, we were served one dish after the other in a successive order. Unfortunately, we had no idea of what each dish was called or what would it taste like. There were around twelve items in the plate for us to relish. Puri, Sagu along with a dry veg and sprout salad was something we could immediately identify our palate with. A small glass of grape juice, 2 varieties of rice adorned with ghee, Bisi bele bath, Sambhar, Curd Rice, Papad, Payasam kept getting served. There was no limit to what you eat. The men who served the dishes wore a clean traditional dhoti, kurta and served the food in a dexterous manner. This was the actual cultural experience that we received at the MTR. Unaware of the items we ate, not able to relish every dish, nonetheless glued to the ethnic ambience and air around us. A fond memory we will savor all our life.

Indeed, a much deserved experience on a festival day!

Working From Home

Am too exhausted, have been commuting to workplace daily for the past fortnight. Have to catch the morning bus to office as early as 7:20am. Let me quickly look at my calendar for tomorrow. well, it appears cleaner than ever! No meetings scheduled for tomorrow. Sounds good! Why don't I plan to work from home tomorrow? The thoughts creep into my mind this evening.And finally I decided that I'll be working from home tomorrow.A sense of relief! Will restore my energy tomorrow, at least will save commuting in traffic for an hour and a half one way.Indeed, will be able to work better from home. All the positive thoughts settling in my mind tonight. Will surely have a sound sleep.

Comes tomorrow morning, oopse the alarm rings right as the clock strikes 5 in the morning. Ghosh! why didn't I reset the alarm last night. Thank GOD! snooze is a resort! Ding Dong! Oopse I wake up from my snooze again. This time its the door bell, I grab my cell phone to have a glance at the time. Its just 6:00am. Time for the house maid. Why didn't I inform her last evening to come late today, cursing myself I get out of the bed. The door bell rings again. Why can't this maid give me a moment? This time I curse the maid and hurriedly bash myself against the door. Finally, the day has commenced. Its not yet 7:00am but since I'm already up and moving I plan to log in to the office port. Sipping a cup of hot tea, I start checking my mails while I'm also logging on to the company's internet chat id. No sooner have I logged on than I receive a ping! This is one of the Japanese folks. Perhaps, he's the one who has raised the problem report I was working on till late last evening. Has he set up an alarm to alert him as soon as I get available on the chat server? Indeed! Japan is around 3.5 hours ahead of IST. My clock shows past 7am. Oh! these assiduous Japanese customers! Hours pass by before I end up the discussion with the Japanese customer.

The clock strikes 10am. I've already started feeling hungry. Time to have some breakfast. As I peep into the kitchen to decide what to have this morning, BEEP! and a ping from the office. People have now started the working day and have some queries for me. Whilst I utilize my typing skills to quickly reply to the queries, I smell something's burning! These are the toasts I was merrily preparing for breakfast! Off, I rush to the kitchen and sigh on seeing my breakfast plate! Quickly I gulp in the milk of glass and get back to my work desk. My work queue enlists a heavy inflow of work items today. All need to be closed by the end of the day. I sit down to prioritize my work items. Ping pong keeps happening as different colleagues have various discussion lists.

A continuous cry from outside distracts my attention. Looking out of the balcony, I view the green grocer vociferously listing the vegetables he has displayed in his cart today. I remember no vegetables in the refrigerator. Not much time to think, I grab my wallet and run downstairs to buy some fresh vegetables for the week. It'll save me time from going to the market. I buy almost all the varieties the grocer had. Ranging from tomatoes to bitter gourd, I also buy the coriander leaves, colocasia, brinjals, ladyfinger and bottle gourd. Handing over the money to the grocer, I rush back to the stairs and there rolls down the tomatoes from the torn polybag. Irritatedly, I keep the rest of the bags inside the house and climb down the stairs collecting the fallen, uncrushed tomatoes.

Grabbing some breath I climb up the stairs and get back to my desk. Alas! another unscheduled call invite. I certainly can't decline this one. Have another 15 minutes to get into this call, so I hurriedly try to close the less time consuming tasks. Am almost on the verge of analyzing the logs, when the meeting commences. I dial into the meeting, and this one continues for more than an hour. Winding it up, I get back to my work and keep ticking one item at a time as I complete the day's "To Do List".

Suddenly, I feel quite exhausted. There's pain in my cervical region. I move my head and check the time on the wall clock. Its 5:00pm. Least did I realize I did not get up to have my lunch. Definitely a time for me to take a tea break. Off, I goto the kitchen and prepare some tea for myself. I take some cookies with tea and curb my hunger. I relook at the list of work items and see 2 lesser priority tasks which I can work on tomorrow. But, somehow I just feel like having a look at the logs. I pull down one of them and start my analysis. This continued for over an hour and 'ding dong' rang the door bell. Its 7:30pm and the maid has come to cook the dinner. I aim to wind up my work soon and logoff for the day. Finally, I shut down the system and am too exhausted by the end of the day.

Its now that I fetch some time to read the days' newspaper. Post dinner, I get into my bed wondering whether it was really that less stressful to work form home!