It was another very Full day. In more ways than one.( I come up with the most awful puns at night, I think. Anyway.. )
On one plane of existence, there was a lot of activity, which left me physically tired and a little cribby, and then again, there was all that food... (the easiest way to put me in a good mood is to feed me a tiny bit of something yummy.)
So here's an inventory:
Tahar-tsarvan
Roth
Dal makhni
Nan
Rice
Lasagna
Fresh Lime Soda
Ice Tea
Four kinds of kababs
More nan
Pizza
Grilled mushrooms
Breaded Mozarella sticks
Biryani
Wonderful Chocolate Cake
And I wondered why it felt as though I was undulating rather than walking this evening!?!! And I expect to lose some weight before the brother's wedding??!!?? At this rate I'll never get 'shapely' enough to wear that adorable choli :( Eeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaarghhhh!!!!!! No!No! Tomorrow morning, before the break of dawn, I shall be up, I shall work it all off!! So there!
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Photos
I was left a little speechless, so I thought I'd just put up photos.
Chain nikal gayi thi
Local chai-wali aunty
Amir with his mother and younger brother
(hidden behind him in this pic).. from Jaipur.
In Delhi to get a Visa to Pakistan to visit their relatives there.
Extremely interested in the camera.
Young Tahir Husain was shy, but let go just enough to poke at the camera.
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Koi Kaaran Hoga
It's one of those things. I appreciate lots of 'finer feelings' and 'understand' what people must be 'going through' and am generally sensitive to the small-print-emotions. But I always have had this sneaking suspicion that there isn't much of that going around. How else do I account for the remarkable lack of it when I need some?
As a matter of fact, it seems as though there's a little too much in me, because of which, for my own mental and emotional well-being, I steer clear of most emotionally charged, moving, or otherwise thought-provokingly 'Deep' books. Sometimes, this irritates me no end, cause, well, I like reading good books!! But I found early on that I couldn't handle too much excess emotion... Wuthering Heights, much as I loved the book, would invariably depress me for a week.. Hence it had to be put in the skull and crossbones section of the mental catalogue.
Of course, some might put it down to nothing more serious than me being essentially moody; while that may be true, it removes some of the romance of being emotionally sensitive. As a matter of fact, I whiled away a whole minute taking an online test to estimate whether or not I might be a Highly Sensitive Person(HSP), and surprise, surprise!!! I scored high enough!
But coming back to where I started rambling from.. It sometimes gets very upsetting when I realise that however well I manage to analyse a situation and however well I might be able to gauge another person's reactions and feelings, and however much I might open up to a person, they just don't seem to get me.
As a matter of fact, it seems as though there's a little too much in me, because of which, for my own mental and emotional well-being, I steer clear of most emotionally charged, moving, or otherwise thought-provokingly 'Deep' books. Sometimes, this irritates me no end, cause, well, I like reading good books!! But I found early on that I couldn't handle too much excess emotion... Wuthering Heights, much as I loved the book, would invariably depress me for a week.. Hence it had to be put in the skull and crossbones section of the mental catalogue.
Of course, some might put it down to nothing more serious than me being essentially moody; while that may be true, it removes some of the romance of being emotionally sensitive. As a matter of fact, I whiled away a whole minute taking an online test to estimate whether or not I might be a Highly Sensitive Person(HSP), and surprise, surprise!!! I scored high enough!
But coming back to where I started rambling from.. It sometimes gets very upsetting when I realise that however well I manage to analyse a situation and however well I might be able to gauge another person's reactions and feelings, and however much I might open up to a person, they just don't seem to get me.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
The Latest..
And now.. after what seems like ages, the comp is back in action!! Of some sort.. ahem.
There was a bit of a scare when it had crashed, since there was no backup of the huge number of photos I'd taken over the last eight months. But peace of mind is now restored! And to celebrate, I've gone wild with my trusty cam!! Some of those photos shall be displayed here by and by.
The various kinds of mental turmoil I've gone through in the recent past makes me wonder 'what' and 'why' and 'how' and even makes me go 'eh??!!??' once in a while. However, having displayed the various emotions associated with each of the above, I retire satisfied with my histrionic ability but completely at a loss as far as everything else is concerned. Ok, now I am tired of typing, having roamed for many hours through the hugely crowded stalls at Pragati Maidan which is hosting the Delhi Book Fair.
There was a bit of a scare when it had crashed, since there was no backup of the huge number of photos I'd taken over the last eight months. But peace of mind is now restored! And to celebrate, I've gone wild with my trusty cam!! Some of those photos shall be displayed here by and by.
The various kinds of mental turmoil I've gone through in the recent past makes me wonder 'what' and 'why' and 'how' and even makes me go 'eh??!!??' once in a while. However, having displayed the various emotions associated with each of the above, I retire satisfied with my histrionic ability but completely at a loss as far as everything else is concerned. Ok, now I am tired of typing, having roamed for many hours through the hugely crowded stalls at Pragati Maidan which is hosting the Delhi Book Fair.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Misadventures, Misapprehensions, etc..
It's been a while since I've had days so packed with action. Ironically, when asked by anyone exactly what the action was, I am embarrassingly tongue-tied. Not because I have developed an affliction whereby I can't articulate my thoughts anymore..(I sometimes believe I was born that way.. never needed to develop it!).. but because there is just so much to tell, and then again, so little that is worth telling people who aren't living through this mess!
A typical day in recent times, would begin a little painfully (crick in the neck, a stiff arm, sounds of altercation or incessant irritating alarms ringing on other people's phones). This would, however, be followed by a surprisingly normal morning, full to the brim of mundane, everyday tasks that positively reek of the kind of hard work no one appreciates. Just to make things a little interesting, there'd be the occasional flash of temper, which, in this heat, does no one any good (especially when the person in question is me!). Further, lunches have been interesting lately, ranging from fancy-schmancy pasta, to yummy leftovers, to air and water. There has also been a lot of roaming around, mostly for regular grocery shopping, or to visit sundry people.
Once or twice, of course, the roaming around got a little more interesting. Take, for instance, the time Masi, Nani-bua and I went to the beauty parlour, which we fondly call S-de'beaut. The dames there didn't seem to be quite with it that day. So, they plastered Nani-bua's hair with henna, and ran back in five minutes to inform her that it would leave some oragey-red colour however soon they washed it off. She was quite aghast, cause she'd just spent some ten minutes telling them that she didn't want the colour! And the golden-orange that resulted was priceless..
Masi, therefore, was warned, and decided to stick with the pedicure and manicure. However, the dames didn't seem to know how to get rid of her fake nails. Ahem. And then, just as Masi had settled comfortably in her chair with her hands and feet in sudsy water, one of the dames traipsed in and asked her if she'd rather have a haircut first. So, of course, no contest, no manicure or pedicure!
And after all this fun, we reached home in rather good humour, but in the typical manner of these last few days, the evening was effectively ruined by churlish behaviour. Sigh. No one you know. Lucky you!
But I've tried to make up for everything by improving my mind and reading stuff to elevate my thought processes and generally become brighter. Thankfully, I have the tools ready at hand anytime I choose to lay my hands on them.. So I polished off a few Perry Masons, a few Asterix comics, the last Harry Potter, and Orhan Pamuk's book.
Ok, here's a picture mom took from the plane:
(I like it)
A typical day in recent times, would begin a little painfully (crick in the neck, a stiff arm, sounds of altercation or incessant irritating alarms ringing on other people's phones). This would, however, be followed by a surprisingly normal morning, full to the brim of mundane, everyday tasks that positively reek of the kind of hard work no one appreciates. Just to make things a little interesting, there'd be the occasional flash of temper, which, in this heat, does no one any good (especially when the person in question is me!). Further, lunches have been interesting lately, ranging from fancy-schmancy pasta, to yummy leftovers, to air and water. There has also been a lot of roaming around, mostly for regular grocery shopping, or to visit sundry people.
Once or twice, of course, the roaming around got a little more interesting. Take, for instance, the time Masi, Nani-bua and I went to the beauty parlour, which we fondly call S-de'beaut. The dames there didn't seem to be quite with it that day. So, they plastered Nani-bua's hair with henna, and ran back in five minutes to inform her that it would leave some oragey-red colour however soon they washed it off. She was quite aghast, cause she'd just spent some ten minutes telling them that she didn't want the colour! And the golden-orange that resulted was priceless..
Masi, therefore, was warned, and decided to stick with the pedicure and manicure. However, the dames didn't seem to know how to get rid of her fake nails. Ahem. And then, just as Masi had settled comfortably in her chair with her hands and feet in sudsy water, one of the dames traipsed in and asked her if she'd rather have a haircut first. So, of course, no contest, no manicure or pedicure!
And after all this fun, we reached home in rather good humour, but in the typical manner of these last few days, the evening was effectively ruined by churlish behaviour. Sigh. No one you know. Lucky you!
But I've tried to make up for everything by improving my mind and reading stuff to elevate my thought processes and generally become brighter. Thankfully, I have the tools ready at hand anytime I choose to lay my hands on them.. So I polished off a few Perry Masons, a few Asterix comics, the last Harry Potter, and Orhan Pamuk's book.
Ok, here's a picture mom took from the plane:
(I like it)
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Nani
On Saturday, my nani left her body. It was a strange feeling, standing in the ICU, watching the doctors trying to revive her body. It was peaceful to sit with her body and tell her one last time how much she meant to us. It was impossible to talk to anyone at that time, though. It was extremely disorienting to leave my nani's side and find such a large number of people assembled at the hospital within the hour. It was bewildering to have so many different versions of what we could and could not do over the next few days. It was distressing to have to accept that mom and masi wouldn't be able to see nani one last time before the cremation. It was infuriating that someone who didn't care two hoots about nani should get to bathe her and help dress her the next day, when the people who did so much for her while she was alive, out of love, weren't able to.
But whatever I felt over the last few days, I didn't find my eyes filling with tears everytime the many, many people who visited spoke about her, or about the things she'd done, or the wonderful person she was. I didn't feel particularly emotional even when they kept remembering how she used to name me as her daughter even when she'd forgotten the names of her own children. When we discuss the many aspects that made nani what she was, it makes me happy, and gives a warm feeling inside, not a feeling of loss.
When people call up or visit, and remembering her, start recounting stories of what she'd done for them years ago, or how she'd fed them, or taken care of them, I remember her as she was, some ten years ago.. vibrant, caring, enthusiastic, she loved gardening, she'd just learnt how to drive, she let us experiment in her kitchen, listened to our stories, she was just the most perfect grandmother anyone could ever have asked for!
But that was not the nani that we'd been taking care of, for the last two or three years. Ever since she was diagnosed with cancer, she had slowly, almost imperceptibly lost that verve and individuality, gradually turning inwards, and by the time chemo and radiotherapy killed the cancer, her body was ravaged and the pain she had to endure wrought lasting changes. By the time we realised that all was not well, she was in a bad state.
Alzheimer's disease had robbed her of most of her memories, and she was desperately afraid and distrustful. In this darkness, she still recognised us as somehow related to her, though she didn't quite know how.. and now she lost interest in most things that had earlier defined her. Her famed hospitality and warmth were replaced by suspicion and a childlike fear. The early days, when she couldn't find her way to the bathroom at night, and would sit and cry like a baby, the hallucinations, the increased aggression later, when almost the only coherent thought that she had was that she had to go home, to her father and the family of her youth, the pain that she had to endure throughout, as her body too began to give up.. these are the things that defined her last years.
But what I remember most clearly of my nani is the love I felt for her, the tenderness, the feeling that made me want to just put my head in her lap and feel her stroking my hair, the satisfaction on her face when we'd talk and instead of trying to make her realise that she was rambling, I'd answer in ways that she could still comprehend, the way she would smile when I'd go over to visit her, the way she'd still put on her spectacles and read with intense concentration the same line over and over again.
Most people are now grieving for the nani of some eight or ten years ago. But the last few years she had changed into nani the baby, who had nonetheless to live with a lot of physical and mental pain. I can't grieve, because she's finally free of the pain, she is finally through with this extremely difficult life, and I can't grieve, because I saw her at the last, looking as though peacefully asleep. Arjun, though so young, put it so well when he told masi not to feel too sad, because nani had, afterall, become an angel now.
But whatever I felt over the last few days, I didn't find my eyes filling with tears everytime the many, many people who visited spoke about her, or about the things she'd done, or the wonderful person she was. I didn't feel particularly emotional even when they kept remembering how she used to name me as her daughter even when she'd forgotten the names of her own children. When we discuss the many aspects that made nani what she was, it makes me happy, and gives a warm feeling inside, not a feeling of loss.
When people call up or visit, and remembering her, start recounting stories of what she'd done for them years ago, or how she'd fed them, or taken care of them, I remember her as she was, some ten years ago.. vibrant, caring, enthusiastic, she loved gardening, she'd just learnt how to drive, she let us experiment in her kitchen, listened to our stories, she was just the most perfect grandmother anyone could ever have asked for!
But that was not the nani that we'd been taking care of, for the last two or three years. Ever since she was diagnosed with cancer, she had slowly, almost imperceptibly lost that verve and individuality, gradually turning inwards, and by the time chemo and radiotherapy killed the cancer, her body was ravaged and the pain she had to endure wrought lasting changes. By the time we realised that all was not well, she was in a bad state.
Alzheimer's disease had robbed her of most of her memories, and she was desperately afraid and distrustful. In this darkness, she still recognised us as somehow related to her, though she didn't quite know how.. and now she lost interest in most things that had earlier defined her. Her famed hospitality and warmth were replaced by suspicion and a childlike fear. The early days, when she couldn't find her way to the bathroom at night, and would sit and cry like a baby, the hallucinations, the increased aggression later, when almost the only coherent thought that she had was that she had to go home, to her father and the family of her youth, the pain that she had to endure throughout, as her body too began to give up.. these are the things that defined her last years.
But what I remember most clearly of my nani is the love I felt for her, the tenderness, the feeling that made me want to just put my head in her lap and feel her stroking my hair, the satisfaction on her face when we'd talk and instead of trying to make her realise that she was rambling, I'd answer in ways that she could still comprehend, the way she would smile when I'd go over to visit her, the way she'd still put on her spectacles and read with intense concentration the same line over and over again.
Most people are now grieving for the nani of some eight or ten years ago. But the last few years she had changed into nani the baby, who had nonetheless to live with a lot of physical and mental pain. I can't grieve, because she's finally free of the pain, she is finally through with this extremely difficult life, and I can't grieve, because I saw her at the last, looking as though peacefully asleep. Arjun, though so young, put it so well when he told masi not to feel too sad, because nani had, afterall, become an angel now.
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