tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71083327371822806322024-03-13T09:12:17.860+05:30Raji's RamblingsRAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.comBlogger217125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-87093455508441862242023-11-21T17:47:00.003+05:302023-11-21T17:47:24.158+05:30Some Memories.....of road repairs and atrocities<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHre184cvg8REO4eBn1Vd1DhhHqs71FNl7LKFMKqx6IAKqYfrLz-0W6pN0kJPJ-XHe3t9IG8jfGFoWNTdyT3A04ZqN7BMECrY8HxVHtbVmvMhcw84JueKi2WrKEsMcPXI6nXbrJIBGmb_nZbgMeDXiehQ4PATL5a65CEGzGS2wwyQ2GmjpZQ3ahiaZMWgA/s1080/1700568775707.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="810" data-original-width="1080" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHre184cvg8REO4eBn1Vd1DhhHqs71FNl7LKFMKqx6IAKqYfrLz-0W6pN0kJPJ-XHe3t9IG8jfGFoWNTdyT3A04ZqN7BMECrY8HxVHtbVmvMhcw84JueKi2WrKEsMcPXI6nXbrJIBGmb_nZbgMeDXiehQ4PATL5a65CEGzGS2wwyQ2GmjpZQ3ahiaZMWgA/s320/1700568775707.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> November 2021<p></p><p><br /></p><p>And they have done it again! </p><p><br /></p><p>Succeeded in maintaining their score of knock-down-one-cable-a-day! </p><p><br /></p><p>Barely a day after it was restored, with new cables and all, the #ChennaiCorporation sent that JCB, its weapon of destruction, and ripped apart the pole and cables of our Internet server. </p><p>We had not had it for even 12 hours.</p><p><br /></p><p> And along the way, cut the Metro water connection supply of both our neighbors. </p><p><br /></p><p>And after all its rampaging, it sits on our road all night, in front of our house, waiting to pounce! </p><p><br /></p><p>I hope the Commissioner #GagandeepSinghBedi of #ChennaiCorporation takes note of the wanton and needless destruction caused by the undisciplined drivers of the JCB.</p>RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-52236892333597737942022-10-09T21:56:00.002+05:302022-10-09T23:19:03.613+05:30MY MOTHER’S NAVARATHRI KOLUS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC-QhHaiuj1UnvIY2BoAgOEHosls72-j9srMhqOGfDw8qytai51B-6Bd-SHYWttI6HE2BUfYSKeQTv849_GmWzC4uvPxT0jzFvXJxijjYEfWqTS8p5zrDIXV7XqfeYrHyIGN6-yjEy-4ubmlflT4JT3ROcrvkZMDouAp0IxS9lunhEs_zOS318qYqQ0g/s1280/8F51E1D5-97B5-470B-A0F4-AA29201D100C.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="853" data-original-width="1280" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC-QhHaiuj1UnvIY2BoAgOEHosls72-j9srMhqOGfDw8qytai51B-6Bd-SHYWttI6HE2BUfYSKeQTv849_GmWzC4uvPxT0jzFvXJxijjYEfWqTS8p5zrDIXV7XqfeYrHyIGN6-yjEy-4ubmlflT4JT3ROcrvkZMDouAp0IxS9lunhEs_zOS318qYqQ0g/w640-h426/8F51E1D5-97B5-470B-A0F4-AA29201D100C.jpeg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(49, 49, 49); color: #313131; word-spacing: 1px;"><div class="gmail_quote"><div class="quoted-text" style="color: #757575;"><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 0.8ex; padding-left: 1ex;"><div data-originalcomputedfontsize="16" data-removefontsize="true" dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Navarathri 1978, at our place in New Delhi, West Kidwai Nagar.</span></div><div data-originalcomputedfontsize="16" data-removefontsize="true" dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">No colour pictures then, and even black and white pictures were rare, not everyone owned a camera.</span></div></blockquote></div></div></div><div dir="auto" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(49, 49, 49); color: #313131; text-align: justify; word-spacing: 1px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(49, 49, 49); color: #313131; word-spacing: 1px;"><div class="gmail_quote"><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 0.8ex; padding-left: 1ex;"><div data-originalcomputedfontsize="16" data-removefontsize="true" dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span>Anyone who has celebrated Navarathri with a Kolu knows the amount of work entailed. The preparation for the Kolu starts days ahead. My mother made it a point to make new paper garlands every year for decoration, adding to the ones collected and saved from previous years. Creating them was an art in itself, and we would all be roped in to roll the coloured paper flowers. (Guess who was the lone recalcitrant roller.) </span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></span></div></blockquote></div></div><div dir="auto" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(49, 49, 49); color: #313131; text-align: justify; word-spacing: 1px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(49, 49, 49); color: #313131; word-spacing: 1px;"><div class="gmail_quote"><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 0.8ex; padding-left: 1ex;"><div data-originalcomputedfontsize="16" data-removefontsize="true" dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The dolls would be arranged only on white sheets laid on the steps to set off their bright colours. The steps were usually makeshift, set up with trunks and boxes, but nonetheless perfectly aligned.</span></div><div class="quoted-text" style="color: #757575;"><div data-originalcomputedfontsize="16" data-removefontsize="true" dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">And on either side of the steps would be what could be termed as ‘parks’. Mud was fetched in and spread, fast sprouting seeds like methi were scattered to create fields and grass. </span></div></div></blockquote></div></div><div class="quoted-text" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #757575; word-spacing: 1px;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto"><div class="gmail_quote"><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 0.8ex; padding-left: 1ex;"><div data-originalcomputedfontsize="16" data-removefontsize="true" dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Nothing new, but my mother started this when I was about 7 or 8. Almost 70 years ago. And she made these Kolu happen for almost 40 years. </span></div></blockquote></div></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto"></div><div dir="auto"><div class="gmail_quote"><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 0.8ex; padding-left: 1ex;"><div data-originalcomputedfontsize="16" data-removefontsize="true" dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">One year she made small dolls out of white clay and painted them with costumes, including swimsuits, and placed them on a pool made out of a dish of water. I was 8 then, and I remember it so clearly. </span></div></blockquote></div></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto"></div></div><div dir="auto" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(49, 49, 49); color: #313131; word-spacing: 1px;"><div dir="auto"><div style="min-width: 150px;"><blockquote style="border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 0.8ex; min-width: 150px; padding-left: 1ex;"><div data-originalcomputedfontsize="16" data-removefontsize="true" dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Maiji says </span><span style="font-family: arial;">she made her first kolu when I was two. A few dolls placed on a small table, over a lace tablecloth. And a small kolam. As I grew, so did the Kolu, and the Kolam.</span></div></blockquote></div></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div></div><div dir="auto" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(49, 49, 49); color: #313131; word-spacing: 1px;"></div><div dir="auto" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(49, 49, 49); color: #313131; word-spacing: 1px;"><div class="gmail_quote"><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 0.8ex; padding-left: 1ex;"><div dir="auto"></div></blockquote></div></div><div dir="auto" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(49, 49, 49); color: #313131; word-spacing: 1px;"><div class="gmail_quote"><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 0.8ex; padding-left: 1ex;"><div dir="auto"><div data-originalcomputedfontsize="16" data-removefontsize="true" dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">My contribution in later years was to carry out her instructions, so I used to help with the making of cardboard cutouts like temple towers etc. and painting them.</span></div><div class="quoted-text" style="color: #757575;"><div data-originalcomputedfontsize="16" data-removefontsize="true" dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Just seeing her go at it would exhaust me.</span></div></div></div></blockquote></div></div><div class="quoted-text" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #757575; word-spacing: 1px;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto"><div class="gmail_quote"><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 0.8ex; padding-left: 1ex;"><div dir="auto"><div data-originalcomputedfontsize="16" data-removefontsize="true" dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Even when the family grew and her responsibilities increased, and later with my father’s parents joining us, she did not lose her drive. <br /></span></div></div><div data-originalcomputedfontsize="16" data-removefontsize="true" dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">She would make laddoos at home to distribute with the manjal / Haldi kukmkum. </span></div></blockquote><p><span style="font-family: arial;">And these dolls travelled, wrapped carefully in old clothes and newspapers in their own trunk box, with us to wherever my father was transferred….from Delhi, to Trichy, to Chingleput, to Madras, to six years in Pondy where Maiji had the grandest kolus, …and back to Delhi.</span></p></div></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div></div><div dir="auto" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(49, 49, 49); color: #313131; word-spacing: 1px;"><div class="gmail_quote"><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 0.8ex; padding-left: 1ex;"><div data-originalcomputedfontsize="16" data-removefontsize="true" dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span>This picture , so representative of Maiji’s spirit, was used with an article on Navarathri as celebrated by South Indians, in the Indian Express published from Delhi, in 1978</span><span face="-apple-system, HelveticaNeue">.</span></span></div></blockquote></div></div>RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-79889393878972784602015-12-24T17:43:00.000+05:302015-12-25T09:49:51.814+05:30HELP - LESS <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">It is an ongoing tussle between my domestic
help Saroja and me. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">I have told her to inform me if she is
going to take a day off, so I am prepared mentally and somehow find the
physical drive to do her chores. I never mind her taking the day off, (with her
however it is invariably five days running) since she too has problems and may
fall ill. It is just that she should let me know first thing in the morning. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> She
always says yes, but from the time of the landline and 25 paise per call from the
public phone booth to now the days of the cell - she also has one - she
never does. Giving her the telephone money to make calls never worked – she
probably found a better use for it. Threats of cutting off the day’s wages
never work either, she knows I won’t. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">So there I remain, waiting till 8 am, and
then going to our first floor balcony to check if she has cleaned the front
gate and drawn the kolam – at which she is a champ. And if I see her kolam
there or in our neigbour’s house, I relax and continue with my work in my
office - kitchen, that is.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiagk75K8UMi3-9J037LjAWUjCD1Q8P2cx_oR5eDSzixMIi1UmBuiTtD51Td8Ae8nqO7xOgLoOyIfg0mAuJIOKPMREA0Cgumcx7Z_CgtXkgoWemCrwo_6VmwGVwZGWM34e-goDvyIQq5vK6/s1600/kolam+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiagk75K8UMi3-9J037LjAWUjCD1Q8P2cx_oR5eDSzixMIi1UmBuiTtD51Td8Ae8nqO7xOgLoOyIfg0mAuJIOKPMREA0Cgumcx7Z_CgtXkgoWemCrwo_6VmwGVwZGWM34e-goDvyIQq5vK6/s320/kolam+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8AzrdwTykhMsSRwVxMEU1g6VTWxv_TOcGC4MwdJAyC4lqsedBCxCnaf52SYH6T2uS7aJFVb5ILjE1_w29_IsVKZo12_sIbGxcLSaIuf-tfzwig9OIStyzT35FwT33zO-Ei5fzXem2o0Cc/s1600/Saroja+Kolam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8AzrdwTykhMsSRwVxMEU1g6VTWxv_TOcGC4MwdJAyC4lqsedBCxCnaf52SYH6T2uS7aJFVb5ILjE1_w29_IsVKZo12_sIbGxcLSaIuf-tfzwig9OIStyzT35FwT33zO-Ei5fzXem2o0Cc/s320/Saroja+Kolam.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">But if she doesn’t then I have to start
doing the vessels, clothes et al. And I do so with great energy and scolding
her mentally for not calling early to let me know. Sometimes I have to fit the
chores in to the schedule the days’ programme, like visits to the doctor, cooking
for visitors and so on. My scoldings are no less vigorous than my hands as I
scrub the vessels. And I tell myself, “Just wait till she comes, I’ll give her
a piece of my mind for not calling me.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">On the second day, I am a little more
prepared, for I have done the dishes the previous night, thinking if she comes she can do
the rest of the work. No call, and she isn’t coming either. The clothes are
scrubbed a little less vehemently, though the scoldings continue.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">The third day I begin to wonder, while
doing the floor, if the poor woman is very ill and can’t come to the
phone, but then I tell myself, why can’t she ask someone else in the family to
call. Her useless son is always hanging around outside our gate when she is
working, instead of going about his job. Why can’t he come and tell me why his
mother is absent, I grumble. High time I looked for another maid, I feel.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">The fourth day comes but she doesn’t, and
now I am weary with the chores, mine and hers, and begin to feel sorry for her,
working here and in other homes, just doing the same tiresome chores to make
enough money for her livelihood.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">By the fifth day I am ready to fall on her
neck and welcome her back. </span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">No reprimands, no recriminations…..</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br /></div>
RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-13145244797391331412014-04-24T18:21:00.001+05:302014-04-24T18:25:25.830+05:30FINALLY, THE FLOWERS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidhFWXwksgzEmuQ5H5LdY_8U0T3fRyI68wD81FR05YJdU-6RfyQjdRkFTeY6Hb6qTdBIikH69x8jBQzd6lclaXnsxSLhRJE_raTx1xHd6cpcGoXNcPIfEVnS6CVZ7HDepNXhQv8FiC2YCB/s1600/IMG_42111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidhFWXwksgzEmuQ5H5LdY_8U0T3fRyI68wD81FR05YJdU-6RfyQjdRkFTeY6Hb6qTdBIikH69x8jBQzd6lclaXnsxSLhRJE_raTx1xHd6cpcGoXNcPIfEVnS6CVZ7HDepNXhQv8FiC2YCB/s1600/IMG_42111.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In full bloom</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After a wait of five years, I got to catch this tree in full bloom today, with its soft cloud of yellow. I had tried to capture the way it bloomed for just a day, followed it day by day <a href="http://rajirules.blogspot.in/2009/05/one-day-summer-treat.html" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
<br />
Now I am content.</div>
RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-85189713611702926452014-01-11T22:17:00.000+05:302014-01-11T22:17:52.038+05:30GRANNY'S LAMENT<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I wrote this last year when my granddaughters came for a holiday with their parents, and left.<br />
This year my other grandchildren came and stayed, and left a couple of days ago. <br />
Deja vu.<br />
<br />
<i>No screams</i><br />
<i>No tears.</i><br />
<i>No shouts,</i><br />
<i>No laughs.</i><br />
<i>No giggles,</i><br />
<i>No joy.</i><br />
<i>Granddaughters have left,</i><br />
<i>How empty is the nest</i></div>
RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-72175184223492163082013-12-18T19:42:00.000+05:302013-12-18T22:45:39.013+05:30MOTIVATION........<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Nothing works as well as flattery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">I fall for it, flatly, each time.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Some weeks ago I had this lovely comment on my <a href="http://rajirules.blogspot.in/2013/11/now-if-this-had-been-chennai.html" target="_blank">latest (then)</a> blog.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> <a href="http://ideaassortment.blogspot.in/2013/11/the-power-of-appreciation.html" target="_blank">Aparna K.S</a>. said...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">"I enjoy your pics and words alike. Thought I will express it this
way..."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Pleased with this remark, I took a peek at the <a href="http://ideaassortment.blogspot.in/2013/11/the-power-of-appreciation.html" target="_blank">link </a>and was delighted
to see that Aparna had seen fit to pass <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">on to me an award, which had been passed on to her from a blogger, in turn to be
shared with ten other bloggers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">The award is the<b> Liebster award</b>, and
I quote from her post.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span lang="EN-GB"> </span>“The Liebster Blog Award: Liebster is German and means sweetest,
kindest, nicest, dearest, beloved, and</span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">lovely. Started in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Germany</st1:place></st1:country-region>
(probably) & is used to highlight new/recent/lesser known blogs or let say
blogs <o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">with less than 200 followers.(Though the original rules have changed a
bit, the purpose is same - highlight <o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">fellow bloggers' works and appreciate each other's works)<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Here's a brief on how this award works:<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">* Link back to the persons blog
that have nominated you<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">* Nominate 10 bloggers whom you
feel are deserving of more subscribers & pass the award on to them.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">* Answer all questions posted
by the nominator<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">* Create 10 questions for the
nominees<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">* Contact the nominees and let
them know that they have been nominated for the Liebster”<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">First things first. My nominator<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><a href="http://ideaassortment.blogspot.in/2013/11/the-power-of-appreciation.html." target="_blank">http://ideaassortment.blogspot.in/2013/11/the-power-of-appreciation.html.</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Thank you, Aparna.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">And now my turn to nominate - I am nominating the following bloggers to pass the award on to. No, there are no
ribbons or medals <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">or pretty tokens, sorry, just the award.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><a href="http://seventhchords.blogspot.in/" target="_blank">Gowri</a> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://satchitananda-fromlifespages.blogspot.in/" target="_blank">Swathi</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><a href="http://the-urban-gardener.blogspot.in/" target="_blank">Sunitha</a> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><a href="http://isharethese.blogspot.in/" target="_blank">Indrani</a> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><a href="http://kaminidandapani.typepad.com/" target="_blank">Kamini</a> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> </span>Next come the questions I have to answer. My answers in italics.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> 1. If God gave you
another chance to live your life all over again, which one thing would you like
to <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">change?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> <i> Occasions when I
have been unintentionally rude to people.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> 2 One act of
kindness that you encountered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> <i> When a co-blogger
chose me for an award and kick started me into blogging again.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> 3One moment that
you felt indebted to your creator…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> <i> Always, for what
He has given me.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> 4 Is variety confusing?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> <i> Only enough to
make it interesting.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> 5. One ingredient
that makes a good listener…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> <i> Silence
(non-interruption) when the other person is talking</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> 6 Which one of
these two you do faster: thanking people or apologising?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> <i> Equally quick.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> 7,. Ageing
gracefully’ – What does this mean to you?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> <i>Accepting not just
myself as I am, but others as they are, without trying to change them</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> 8. If you are
allowed to make one change to the ways of the world, what would you like to change?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> <i> Eradication of
illness of any kind.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">. 9. What
constitutes a balanced life?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">. <i>Happiness through
good health and sufficient wealth.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> 10. Has the
internet globalised the world or polarised it?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> <i> Definitely made it
a smaller place.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">My ten questions have been reduced to five for lack of imagination on
my part. Pardon me if you find the <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">questions dull.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> 1. What would you do to improve the condition of women in India?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> 2. An opportunity
you regret missing?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> 3. If you were
asked to choose one book as your companion for life? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> 4. If you were asked to control prices of foodstuff where would you begin?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> 5. If you were
asked to set 10 questions, what would you feel like doing first? (I screamed in </span>anguish)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> </span>Now this is the reason I wanted to write for my blog again. A
recognition , a small pat on the back, and I have</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">already posted <a href="http://rajirules.blogspot.in/2013/11/now-if-this-had-been-chennai.html" target="_blank">one. </a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Let me see if I am able to maintain the pace. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Thanks <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-42929589793311089342013-12-09T07:59:00.000+05:302013-12-09T07:59:15.272+05:30MY GRANDDAUGHTER WRITES<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My granddaughter Samyukta, all of four-and-a-half, has a story to tell. She drew the illustrations, and her mother wrote down the words as she narrated them. Proud me wants to share it with you .<br />
<br />
<table style="width: 194px;">
<tr><td align="center" style="background: url(https://www.gstatic.com/pwa/s/v/lighthousefe_137.03/transparent_album_background.gif) no-repeat left; height: 194px;"><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/111762681891312138150/20131208?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCJ3O_dPP74eLeQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img height="160" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-PDnQ-Hf1y4U/UqQ5puOznFE/AAAAAAAAKNk/gcqDF9-noIE/s160-c/20131208.jpg" style="margin: 1px 0 0 4px;" width="160" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/111762681891312138150/20131208?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCJ3O_dPP74eLeQ&feat=embedwebsite" style="color: #4d4d4d; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;">2013-12-08</a></td></tr>
</table>
<br />
<br /></div>
RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-65031867867316882402013-11-17T10:16:00.000+05:302013-11-17T10:16:02.918+05:30"Now, if this had been Chennai……."<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">It was a lovely black cardigan with little
pearl buttons down the front, and I liked it a lot. My daughter-in-law Jaisri
had given it to me when we went to <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Seattle</st1:city></st1:place>
for the first time in 1998. And it has seen me through our many visits. Soft to
the touch and warm to the skin, it was ideal for a mild winter day.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">And now I had lost it. I had taken it with
me to <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Bangalore</st1:place></st1:city>
in January earlier this year, when we visited our son Sankar who was there with
Jaisri and the children on a work related trip. It was a brief stay of about
three days, but a very happy, fun-filled one. The weather stayed fine, and I
did not need to use my black cardigan. We stayed in the guest apartment that
they stayed in, and spent all our time with the two little girls, as happy and
carefree as they.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Leaving them was a wrench, and it was sad
to get into the train and seeing them getting smaller and smaller, waving as
the super fast Shatabdi moved out of the platform. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">The air conditioned coach remained
comfortable and we relaxed in our seats, enjoying the coffee and snacks served
en route. When it began to become a little too cool for comfort, I pulled out my
cardigan and wore it. However when we reached Madras Central station, I found
it was too warm, and I took off the cardigan and held on to it, while we waited
our turn at the Fast Track cab counter. This is a cab facility where the
customer tells the person at the counter where he wants to go and pays the fare
in advance. We paid and rode home comfortably. Our driver was a quiet and friendly
person, and we reached home quite quickly with not much traffic on the roads
because of the late hour.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijXP_C_4fvKCScG4XDdNkVjMuv8BRnfWqb5Cw_JMKS6-q4p90bT8n8-jx8aT2xUJEg93NzTkiU6_6lPfKKWQjtKqHM4JjpiTOHcKYAWbtPZ8tquKsksIWGaWJZJ9vFa9p-aFWp5BGAFH6h/s1600/cardigan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="145" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijXP_C_4fvKCScG4XDdNkVjMuv8BRnfWqb5Cw_JMKS6-q4p90bT8n8-jx8aT2xUJEg93NzTkiU6_6lPfKKWQjtKqHM4JjpiTOHcKYAWbtPZ8tquKsksIWGaWJZJ9vFa9p-aFWp5BGAFH6h/s200/cardigan.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The famous cardigan</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Then I realised I could not find my
cardigan. I remembered I had been holding on to it, but could not clearly think
what I had done with it. My best guess was that I must have left it in the car.
I was ready to say a sad farewell to it, but not without making an attempt to
locate it. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">My husband had the receipt for the cab
fare, and I called the number on it, and told the person at the other end the
story of my lost cardigan. He was very polite and asked me to contact the
person at the Central station counter, and gave me a number. The person at
Central said he was sorry, but he was not on duty earlier, but if I told him
the cab registration number he would see if he could do something. Since that
was on the receipt, I was able to give it to him and he said I should call a
number where I could get the number of the driver of the taxi. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">By now I began to feel I was on a Mission
Impossible, but decided to continue with the chase, even though it was quite
late. After some attempts, I was able to connect to that number, and that
person told me to go right back to the Central number since that was where we
had picked up the cab. It required a lot of effort to keep my cool while I told
him that the people at Central had given me the number, and could he please
help. He told me he would see, and after much dilly dallying, gave me the
number of the person who drove the car.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">With a sigh of relief I called the number,
but not with much hope of getting the cardigan back. In a previous instance I
had left an expensive umbrella in a cab, and forgot to pick it up when we
finished our trip, and that was the last I heard of it. The driver had claimed
there was nothing in the car. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">The person who now answered the phone said,
yes he was the owner driver of the car with that registration number, but that
somebody else was driving the car that day, but he would give me his number.
And he gave me that number. I called the number, and got the driver. He
remembered us clearly since we were his last fare, but said he could not check
the cab then, as he had already parked it in the shed for the night. But he
said he would look at it first thing in the morning, and if it was there he
would bring it back to us at our place. I guessed that the shed must be
somewhere distant from his home, and hence his reluctance to check then. But I did
not have any hope of seeing that cardigan again. My husband who had been
dissuading me from all the to-ing and fro-ing on the phone for he thought it
was a lost cause, told me to forget it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">The following morning was Pongal, and we
were up early. I heard the doorbell ring and wondered who it could be at 7 am.
I opened the door and there was the driver from last night, with that cardigan.
“Madam,” he said, “It had fallen on the floor, and that is why you did not see
it.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">I was bowled over by his honesty and
sincerity. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwi2aIoneAkliFxj62tPOiw90KJG-Mv6Eg-QOHFA9nH_KL38c7lRtOomfh2DE78yHxRF-zw8G7ZhRq1EutYwbdF1PO_o6lBJw6-1LhJj_4-6fWodZXEcG1_F5P7eZydDycOFOefFKP31B4/s1600/taxi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="95" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwi2aIoneAkliFxj62tPOiw90KJG-Mv6Eg-QOHFA9nH_KL38c7lRtOomfh2DE78yHxRF-zw8G7ZhRq1EutYwbdF1PO_o6lBJw6-1LhJj_4-6fWodZXEcG1_F5P7eZydDycOFOefFKP31B4/s200/taxi.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courtesy Internet</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Now I want to eat my words from the
penultimate line of this post <a href="http://rajirules.blogspot.in/2012/07/stroller-in-park.html">http://rajirules.blogspot.in/2012/07/stroller-in-park.html</a>
- </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #3b3b3b; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"></span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #3b3b3b; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #3b3b3b; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">"<i><b>Now, if this had been Chennai……</b></i>."</span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-43046404889671473992013-06-25T01:46:00.000+05:302013-06-25T01:46:06.633+05:30One Magical Evening<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: left;">
It was supposed to be the best view we could have of the midsummer night's moon as it rose, closest to the earth than any other day this year. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
It was a pleasant day, and we packed a picnic dinner, and off we went to Magnuson Park to catch the moon.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
There were too many clouds, however, and we missed the moon, but in the west was a glorious kaleidoscope of shifting clouds, catching the brilliant hues of the evening sun at nine o'clock.</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dgS8R-AQQq8/Uciie4BSKYI/AAAAAAAAJa0/lG-lKaItASs/s1600/IMG_2204.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dgS8R-AQQq8/Uciie4BSKYI/AAAAAAAAJa0/lG-lKaItASs/s400/IMG_2204.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All set to dine....</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3APaDK8IfDw/UciiV42ozGI/AAAAAAAAJZk/5pDeJNcOOSk/s1600/IMG_2203.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3APaDK8IfDw/UciiV42ozGI/AAAAAAAAJZk/5pDeJNcOOSk/s640/IMG_2203.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where we should have seen the moon.......</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8uWQaEEEHfM/UciiWiH3kGI/AAAAAAAAJZs/PBgcA-tXlUU/s1600/IMG_2213.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8uWQaEEEHfM/UciiWiH3kGI/AAAAAAAAJZs/PBgcA-tXlUU/s640/IMG_2213.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This and the following pictures were just a few of the sights that evening</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--yuH5Mxw1AY/UciiYRoo4-I/AAAAAAAAJZ8/xdtvtiFQxnw/s1600/IMG_2219.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--yuH5Mxw1AY/UciiYRoo4-I/AAAAAAAAJZ8/xdtvtiFQxnw/s640/IMG_2219.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Q-enBAl0owY/UciiZiftXCI/AAAAAAAAJaE/Xpjt959oRC8/s1600/IMG_2214.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Q-enBAl0owY/UciiZiftXCI/AAAAAAAAJaE/Xpjt959oRC8/s640/IMG_2214.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hKnW2-hY8Y4/UciiaZZZ7UI/AAAAAAAAJaM/-NGSfXckXTg/s1600/IMG_2215.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hKnW2-hY8Y4/UciiaZZZ7UI/AAAAAAAAJaM/-NGSfXckXTg/s640/IMG_2215.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-txcw-Nj9Qjo/UciibViC4gI/AAAAAAAAJaU/GoKDyDLf_i4/s1600/IMG_2208.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-txcw-Nj9Qjo/UciibViC4gI/AAAAAAAAJaU/GoKDyDLf_i4/s640/IMG_2208.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lFUiNquxOXk/UciicCrcrSI/AAAAAAAAJac/N6chv89vwUg/s1600/IMG_2206.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lFUiNquxOXk/UciicCrcrSI/AAAAAAAAJac/N6chv89vwUg/s640/IMG_2206.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v3lo6Ty92WI/UciidHqXRDI/AAAAAAAAJak/7NyY87YeeZs/s1600/IMG_2210.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v3lo6Ty92WI/UciidHqXRDI/AAAAAAAAJak/7NyY87YeeZs/s640/IMG_2210.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-K6Hjv7nURPU/UciiXkpWI9I/AAAAAAAAJZ0/bqn9pmcGBCg/s1600/IMG_2222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-K6Hjv7nURPU/UciiXkpWI9I/AAAAAAAAJZ0/bqn9pmcGBCg/s640/IMG_2222.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On our way back, we caught this view of the moon, over the cottage.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</div>
RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-63117696069336708512012-09-11T21:56:00.000+05:302012-09-12T09:23:21.199+05:30"ACHU ASAL" - DOPPELGANGER?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-GB">For once, I was going to a play without
knowing anything about the storyline. When our friend, writer-director Augusto,
called to invite us to his new play being staged at Narada Gana Sabha, I was
happy to accept, and asked him the name of the play. ‘Achu Asal’, he said, which
literally means ‘perfectly identical.’ And that was all I knew about it.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieK3ljRETZ3hAItEI5tWN9vd8HGvj1XqWVfsw0X5OwMX0V3tZpPIJJIybSNTt3ucFBeo_MDir72bC-JRWwP2hbopdPEGAXjSFXdMYjfxeYOA64_S1Y4vyuh29hmNrxF4XG992x66j87f0e/s1600/IMG_1347.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieK3ljRETZ3hAItEI5tWN9vd8HGvj1XqWVfsw0X5OwMX0V3tZpPIJJIybSNTt3ucFBeo_MDir72bC-JRWwP2hbopdPEGAXjSFXdMYjfxeYOA64_S1Y4vyuh29hmNrxF4XG992x66j87f0e/s640/IMG_1347.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A scene from the play</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was a change to sit back and await
developments in the story, which were really quite interesting. At no stage
could I guess what was coming next. The
story line is briefly this - a dead
ringer for a famous actor wins a big amount in a TV show dedicated to spitting
images of personalities. This person Ravinder, an MBA from IIM A, uses the
money wisely and generously, and unintentionally upstages the star Jitendra,
much to the annoyance of the star’s father, a film director of yester years.
The father loses no chance to pull down the MBA, but has to give in when he
needs Ravinder’s help at a critical stage. He thanks Ravinder for his help and
asks him how he can thank him. The scene/play ends crisply with Ravinder requesting
him to make movies which carry positive messages to youngsters, showing them
the right path. He points out that the goal is the same, but there is a correct
path, as against the short cut of crooked path to reach the goal.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">As in his other plays, Augusto’s stories
are strong, and show a good imagination at work. The suspense is maintained,
ensuring the audience’s desire to know more. He uses to full effect his
awareness of current affairs, trends in televison programmes, and his knowledge of world
cinema.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmkpFClSP15XpUrwStHNEw5HcRrW4iUbuLXz1PlyiyygzQYgeBDiD6hWS1YzY6VHAZ1LlrC7jmKzboQRYBjvuirfiZkUqUkOba8kBeQuZzfSW2Ks0Vnq3jFaVxAWEoxSSft0yGjtCK9Lfr/s1600/IMG_1345.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmkpFClSP15XpUrwStHNEw5HcRrW4iUbuLXz1PlyiyygzQYgeBDiD6hWS1YzY6VHAZ1LlrC7jmKzboQRYBjvuirfiZkUqUkOba8kBeQuZzfSW2Ks0Vnq3jFaVxAWEoxSSft0yGjtCK9Lfr/s400/IMG_1345.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A scene at the Library</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The acting was good, and mention must be
made of the part-owner of the library where many of the characters meet. K. S.
Pazhani raised quite a few laughs with
his delivery of the comic lines. The backdrop of the library was pleasing to
the eye, and the scenes changed quickly. The muted music was soothing, and
unobtrusive. Augusto chose the recorded music himself. S. K. Jayakumaran, the
mainstay of most of Augusto’s plays, gave a strong performance as the
headstrong and arrogant director. A light and artistic touch was provided by a
brief dance (Bharatanayam) by the only actress.</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span lang="EN-GB">Augusto is a qualified oculist and runs his
optical shop in Mylapore. It is sheer passion, without thought of commercial
profit, that makes him write and direct a new play every year. “All of us are
in it because of our love for the theatre,” he says. The plays are staged first
at the Summer drama festival of Kartik Fine Arts. Invariably he picks up a
couple of prizes there every year. This one got him the Best Director award,
and his son-in-law K. Raja, who acted as Ravinder, the best actor award. His
son-in-law is an engineer, and runs his own industry.</span></div>
</div>
RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-48995098828117892942012-07-17T22:47:00.000+05:302012-07-18T08:59:49.656+05:30RAVI'S RAMA<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkYl4WUrWB9BSGEWxWe-CYd9mLGLbf8OKYHRwm1pFiWFt7b-JqO19jNqsLS9JsaXzn1JW6B3Emed2ArMXvK-XucnkQknr_dNV-u0ZXmkkC9M2yRYwR4IStPS_vCaGYsfIl8-YOHGwFu7fR/s1600/facebook+cover-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkYl4WUrWB9BSGEWxWe-CYd9mLGLbf8OKYHRwm1pFiWFt7b-JqO19jNqsLS9JsaXzn1JW6B3Emed2ArMXvK-XucnkQknr_dNV-u0ZXmkkC9M2yRYwR4IStPS_vCaGYsfIl8-YOHGwFu7fR/s320/facebook+cover-1.jpg" width="276" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"> </span><span style="background-color: white;">Ravi Venugopal is an entrepreneur based in
the </span><st1:country-region style="background-color: white;" w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">USA</st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="background-color: white;">,
and is currently in Chennai, taking care of his business from here, while
working on the promotion of his book, </span><i style="background-color: white;">I, Rama</i><span style="background-color: white;">.</span><span style="background-color: white;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">It is a story we all know, learnt at our
parents and grandparents’ feet, and love - a story that never loses its
freshness no matter how often we hear it or read it. My eight year old
granddaughter loves the story and Rama with equal fervour. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">There are reportedly about 300 version of
the Ramayana, originally written by Valmiki. <st1:place w:st="on">Ravi</st1:place>’s
book, </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><i>I, Rama</i>, looks at this story from a different perspective. As the
story unfolds we realise that it is the Lord himself narrating, in the evening
of his life, the incidents of his youth and adolescence, to his brothers and
sons, without losing his objectivity.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">While Rama himself relates the main story,
the tales of Dasaratha, his father, and the great sage Viswamithra, one of his <i>gurus</i>, are also in the
first person as narrated to Rama. The
first person narrative brings the characters alive to the readers, and a little
closer to them. We feel the impact the two seniors had in moulding the
character of Rama. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">I was impressed by the brisk style and
strong characterisation, and the acuity that could see beyond legends. There
are new dimensions to the characters of the two women. Kaikeyi is not at all
the evil stepmother, but a warrior princess, who plans and wins battles. Her
admirable foresight is the cause of Rama’s expulsion to the forest, which sets
off the chain of events for the eventual destruction of Ravana. Sita is not
just a demure maiden, as we have always thought of her. She is a bright person,
well-versed in domestic affairs as well as the craft of warfare, and a
visionary who thinks of welfare programmes. We get a glimpse of the
strong-minded woman who would in the future hold her own against Ravana in
Asoka vana.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">As I went through the pages, I was amazed
at the futuristic tone of the book. The powers </span><span style="background-color: white;">of the <i>rishis </i>and <i>asuras </i>are supernatural
indeed. (Do Viswamithra’s feet ever touch the </span><span style="background-color: white;">ground, or does he just glide above it?) I
felt convinced that they must have come from </span><span style="background-color: white;">another world, to which there are portals
allowing movement to and fro. </span><span style="background-color: white;"> </span><st1:place style="background-color: white;" w:st="on">Ravi</st1:place><span style="background-color: white;">’s narration makes it all so plausible and simple. The
power of the weapons used in the battles is little short of nuclear - surely
there must have been knowledge gained from outside our world, I felt.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">It is obvious that a lot of research has
gone into the writing of the book. It has always been a mystery to me how these
busy young men, working full time, find time to write. And write not at random,
but with due research. <st1:place w:st="on">Ravi</st1:place> says that he
bought many books, and also read up from the Internet. “I also have some senior
gurus who guide me.”</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Ravi has been in the <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">USA</st1:place></st1:country-region> for the
last fifteen years, where he lives with wife Sri Lakshmi and daughter Ananya. When asked “Why Ramayana?” he says, “I feel
the whole picture is not clear yet. Who is Rama? Why is he important? He is
living proof that there are celestials….and lots more”. His daughter Ananya is
his inspiration for the book, he says.</span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Well done, <st1:place w:st="on">Ravi</st1:place>. We look forward to the next volumes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<st1:place w:st="on"><span lang="EN-GB">Ravi</span></st1:place><span lang="EN-GB"> has his say <a href="http://itsravi.wordpress.com/2012/07/12/rama-and-i-the-first-journey/">here</a>. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #888888;"> </span></div>
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</div>RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-31348801353924228122012-07-03T18:59:00.002+05:302012-07-03T19:04:15.085+05:30A STROLL(ER) IN THE PARK<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">It was a pleasant, bright day in September,
2009. My husband and I were visiting my son and daughter-in-law and their
newborn, Samyukta, in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Newport</st1:city>,
<st1:state w:st="on">New Jersey</st1:state></st1:place>. This is just across River
Hudson from <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">New York</st1:place></st1:state>,
where both of them work. </span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4sN6cyU81_rI26Nk-soNt2B3wlWodckQff7skL5NWc_16j7BQ2i6B6a1j41i9SvO9xRKZ3PmSybUIfwgohdhZ4B_mYi-iyXeaxPfqj3XYA0_mGRcsNqgJQol4tqSjAQI8G-9vecSgnpCj/s1600/Picture+211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4sN6cyU81_rI26Nk-soNt2B3wlWodckQff7skL5NWc_16j7BQ2i6B6a1j41i9SvO9xRKZ3PmSybUIfwgohdhZ4B_mYi-iyXeaxPfqj3XYA0_mGRcsNqgJQol4tqSjAQI8G-9vecSgnpCj/s640/Picture+211.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The play area is to the right</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">. We had arrived a few days earlier, and
this was our first outing with the baby – a trip to the nearby <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Liberty</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Park</st1:placetype></st1:place>. Travelling with a little baby or
child needs a lot of planning –there is the stroller, which accommodates the
infant car seat, without which no child can ride in a car in any part of the
Unites States. Even when leaving the hospital soon after making their
appearance, the days old babies have to be strapped into their car seats, which
is then fitted on to the base of the seat in the back. The baby rides alone! I
was horrified when I saw this first – my granddaughter Arundati barely five
days old came home in the car seat from the hospital. The car seat is mandatory
up to 12 years even in some states, and I often joke that, no sooner are they
out of the car seats than they are allowed to drive – they can get a driving
license at 16! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">The stroller is usually roomy enough to
hold the baby’s requirements, bottle, formula, diapers, and more – like our own
stuff like sweaters, snacks, water bottles. Makes walking very simple .By
simply pushing the stroller you can move baby and baggage with minimum effort.
And so we got ready. The stroller was folded and packed in the backseat, with
other stuff, and the car seat holding the baby fixed on the back seat.
Grandparents sat proudly on either side of the baby, and with Vandana driving
we were off.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivhxfk63vaQOm_N6A7WZwqevxL4dXn6SQTWPQSJ5erVHaYjm1x2WCRkDmkCLhxb5NjpwCONpw_vKMbc-A0iG5H1XXPCnaNkNiTfue99n859HHSQWo5QNt1u5Npzr6Jt9ApxtUK3RO65aYb/s1600/Picture+205.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivhxfk63vaQOm_N6A7WZwqevxL4dXn6SQTWPQSJ5erVHaYjm1x2WCRkDmkCLhxb5NjpwCONpw_vKMbc-A0iG5H1XXPCnaNkNiTfue99n859HHSQWo5QNt1u5Npzr6Jt9ApxtUK3RO65aYb/s640/Picture+205.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">It was such a beautiful day, not too warm, nor windy. The baby, barely three months old was snug in her seat in the stroller, as we walked away from the car into the park. The grass was green, the sky so blue with cotton wool clouds, and there were young trees with flowers and berries which I could not identify, and birds warbling away. </span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWQnj50-jVG7XwtUuuaPTeOJZWUbl9NsR4q3154e8evKbs6bHG6WeLH9NknoZqilBsHUOCaE2CIh9V3NVR3cMjkvaqYTufrx05Fo6bRgFS-1mQLOqezsjhoHmBRHF-dbIZbCx8YUwK_2ik/s1600/Picture+194.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWQnj50-jVG7XwtUuuaPTeOJZWUbl9NsR4q3154e8evKbs6bHG6WeLH9NknoZqilBsHUOCaE2CIh9V3NVR3cMjkvaqYTufrx05Fo6bRgFS-1mQLOqezsjhoHmBRHF-dbIZbCx8YUwK_2ik/s640/Picture+194.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Statue of Liberty -at the centre of the picture</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> The Statue of Liberty
could be seen at a distance. It was quite idyllic. Other families with young
children were around, and there were play areas for children with various
equipment, other than swings and seesaws. Roughly hewn wooden tables and chairs
with metal supports were placed at regular intervals for picnickers, and we
found a suitable place to park ourselves. </span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoT1fxt3qUjdrXpTQ144ueJKuWlypngKkWkgLWfVhllIi-j6ryPGjphyphenhyphenxDqV91alNHtnbfm1GXxgPbWSluFU6afyYqf8IrVF9gYRdm3Cyy8v7iAHaOVZlDMnNlZps1GSLOwtxiFdox98vF/s1600/Picture+202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoT1fxt3qUjdrXpTQ144ueJKuWlypngKkWkgLWfVhllIi-j6ryPGjphyphenhyphenxDqV91alNHtnbfm1GXxgPbWSluFU6afyYqf8IrVF9gYRdm3Cyy8v7iAHaOVZlDMnNlZps1GSLOwtxiFdox98vF/s640/Picture+202.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready for a walk in the stroller</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1CPUsoFaJQQp57fuYkMR5wl5YiziB5dpQP4ndrtZNGcwzyPB6ciylQquQk-RVbTD1oYxN0WjpEyd3puQTVdd_1xK3FrnddI3w7UOTvb3FRZZMB7D5wHELlVZ2XxJ0toVoz43ZPmCRhLJ6/s1600/Picture+203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1CPUsoFaJQQp57fuYkMR5wl5YiziB5dpQP4ndrtZNGcwzyPB6ciylQquQk-RVbTD1oYxN0WjpEyd3puQTVdd_1xK3FrnddI3w7UOTvb3FRZZMB7D5wHELlVZ2XxJ0toVoz43ZPmCRhLJ6/s640/Picture+203.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The hold all stroller</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU6j0CZbznm5aZiDlWGwouEvDsEsuKYkN5fmcbYFiXWfsgvdHi-BRvl11zRAfeUOjTZ49gMWjRidM2PNvHM7UcVQbqTDl3iSq9G2Kxgqy5NsLwZDDKabt6sjj4Mn34FRSNX6uUSLHSVq_w/s1600/Picture+195.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU6j0CZbznm5aZiDlWGwouEvDsEsuKYkN5fmcbYFiXWfsgvdHi-BRvl11zRAfeUOjTZ49gMWjRidM2PNvHM7UcVQbqTDl3iSq9G2Kxgqy5NsLwZDDKabt6sjj4Mn34FRSNX6uUSLHSVq_w/s640/Picture+195.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The stroller with the baby! Can you spot the Statue of Liberty?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Samyukta was quite happy to be pushed
around in her stroller, while lazy old me preferred to sit in the sunshine. We
had brought along some food and drinks, and if not exactly lunch, it was quite
satisfying. After an hour or so we decided to leave, and packed up. Baby was in
the stroller, all litter put in the trash bins, and some of our stuff too hung
in a bag from the stroller handle, and off we went to where the car was parked.
We even put our cameras and purse in the stroller so we did not have to carry
anything.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">At the car the baby was lifted with the
seat and placed on the base. It took a little manoeuvring, but it was done. It
would require some more practice before it could be done easily. By now the
baby was also getting restless. Vandana got into the driving seat and Sriram
got in, and we were off. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">As always, the ride home seemed so much
shorter, and we were all pleased at the way everything had gone smoothly on
Baby’s first day out. We were home in no time, and we got out of the car and
opened the boot to pull out the stroller, so that baby could ride home
undisturbed from the car park. I just stood and stared mouth agape at the
inside of the boot – the stroller wasn’t there! I called to Sriram and
Vandana who were busy getting the baby
in the car seat out. They came and were equally aghast. All of us were now
totally confused. “Did you put in the stroller?” My husband and I, total newbies at this had
done nothing except admire Samyukta!
Vandana and Sriram, one busy with getting the car ready and the other
with the car seat had also not put the stroller in. They too were new at this. It was already
time for Baby’s next feed and her bottle was in the bag hanging from the
stroller. And on top of that, Vandana’s handbag with her driving licence,
camera and purse with her credit cards, were all in the stroller. We debated on
what to do. I suggested that I would go to the apartment with the baby so she
could be fed. But in the end we decided to drive back to the park, baby and
all.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">And we did. What a totally different frame
of mind we were in, compared to our happy mood in the morning as we took the
same route. Losing one’s cards and driving license meant a lot of unnecessary
trouble - though replaceable, it would take time. The camera was precious too,
it is a high end one, and many pictures were still stored there. (No, the ones
you see on this page were taken with my humble Kodak.) Vandana and Sriram
discussed the options they had if the stroller was missing, including
complaining to the park attendants, and everything seemed so involved.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">We had little hope of finding the stroller
and contents. In fact I was sure we would not, but kept my fingers crossed and
prayed to all the gods in the pantheon. As we turned into the car park and
drove up to where we had parked earlier, we could not see the stroller. An ice
cream van was there, and people were waking up to buy ice cream. I thought
glumly that anyone could have removed the stroller and contents and left. As we
turned, and the van was no longer in our line of vision, there! we could see
it - our stroller standing quietly where
it had been left! Oh, the relief. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">We got down and found everything exactly as
we had left it, including Vandana’s bag.
This time we bundled everything into the boot carefully and got in for
the ride home.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">I just could not believe it. We had
returned 40 to 50 minutes after we had left, and no one had touched this
property left unattended in a public park. Now, if this had been Chennai…….</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Needless to say, on our next outings, we
checked and double checked to make sure the stroller was in the boot.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-3630414912314110352012-06-07T18:54:00.000+05:302012-06-10T06:55:48.624+05:30A LITTLE WORD PLAY<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Clue:
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Nag and a ram reordered Word</span> . (7).
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Solution: ANAGRAM.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> </span>And that is what this post is going to be
about.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">It all started with a few email exchanges
between my brothers and sisters – youtube links to some old (they have to be,
because we are all over 50!) family favourites like Mustafa and House of
Bamboo.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Which prompted my sister Gowri to come out
with a crossword clue : </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Clan is got into knots reliving past? (9) </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">We worked out that it is an anagram and got
the answer NOSTALGIC.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirkBlZxPwmbEEpH5iiJucrJHTOl13DjJHIhOM2zE6lafDnmuAxDXYt6gYtDziNtKbOdoBv2dtrXT2yNe-SVo2mYJnVeQbXBNHp_DkNq6Ve5yslZF_oBIBx5T6JNr_lPeerK7iLrtoRscQB/s1600/IMG_1063.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirkBlZxPwmbEEpH5iiJucrJHTOl13DjJHIhOM2zE6lafDnmuAxDXYt6gYtDziNtKbOdoBv2dtrXT2yNe-SVo2mYJnVeQbXBNHp_DkNq6Ve5yslZF_oBIBx5T6JNr_lPeerK7iLrtoRscQB/s320/IMG_1063.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">All of us at home are crossword puzzle
solvers, in varying degrees of competence/incompetence. My father enjoyed doing
them, and he encouraged my mother and us to try them. We picked up the habit,
and enjoy working on the puzzles - the more cryptic the clues the greater the
pleasure. Regardless of cracking the clue my joy in racking my brains over a
puzzle is great. And the delight of
getting a particularly tough one is just
unbeatable.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">The simplest clues are the anagrams – but
you have to find out which words in the clue form the anagrams. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">I just checked with my family over their
favourite anagrams, and I got these </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Lives and <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Levis</st1:city></st1:place> for– Elvis.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Severely Slip, Sleepy Silver, for Elvis
Presley</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Mr Mojo Risin for Jim Morrison from his song L. A. Woman</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Old West Action- Clint Eastwood</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Maiji remembered my father’s favourite - Webs
Ran Hard! - Bernard Shaw.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">And Gowri made anagrams of the names of
some of us: </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Gowri - I Grow</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Mohan - Oh, man!! (her husband)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Bala - A Lab</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Raji - I jar!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">If you work on them long enough you usually
get the anagrams. A crossword clue tells you what the anagram is going to be.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">For instance Elvis could be<i>: Singer in crumpled <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Levis</st1:place></st1:city> </i>(5).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">An example from a crossword in the
Guardian:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-GB">As direction, I fancy reference books
(12).<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">With this you have to find the anagram to
form a word of 12 letters to mean a word or words in the clue. (<i>Answer at
bottom</i>).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLegX4q4XXYdUTzJR227uoAMaSWFwG9sGqDzCz7dw-uhcR9PmHT00cXZJmPy5UEfM54DuOVdImdTVY9v-OvmdZycKRwTkoNCOCWKntUcp8DUr_La2n6CWAKAmU00hFjlTI0KjtcD1NEHgC/s1600/IMG_1064.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLegX4q4XXYdUTzJR227uoAMaSWFwG9sGqDzCz7dw-uhcR9PmHT00cXZJmPy5UEfM54DuOVdImdTVY9v-OvmdZycKRwTkoNCOCWKntUcp8DUr_La2n6CWAKAmU00hFjlTI0KjtcD1NEHgC/s640/IMG_1064.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can you see the underlined clue which is an anagram, and the answer is boxed in</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Constant practice, and your eyes zoom down
on the words which form the anagram. And it becomes a fairly easy occupation to
juggle the letters around and find the word.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Nobody I know is as good as my brother Raja
at this – he is the ace crossword solver too. But all that is a preamble to
this - </span>Taking Gowri’s clue at the top, he formed
this jingle using the words ‘Clan is got’</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
clan is got</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">cat logs in</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">got in lacs</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">it can slog</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">go sit clan</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">act is long</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">lags in cot</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">cot nil sag</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">con lit gas</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">sang i clot</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">cats lingo</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">o! it clangs</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">losing act</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">last in cog</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">aligns cot</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">at closing</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">lo! casting</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">o! castling</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">l'coasting </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">l'agnostic</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">logicstan</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">nostalgic</span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB">ALL anagrams of NOSTALGIC!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Howzzat!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><i>Answer to the Guardian clue</i>: DICTIONARIES </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">'reference books' is the definition.</span>(dictionary is a kind of reference book).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">'as direction i fancy' is the subsidiary
indication.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">'fancy' indicates an anagram.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">'as'+'direction'+'i'='asdirectioni'</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">'asdirectioni' anagrammed gives
'dictionaries'.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br /></div>RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-15457176756066251932012-05-12T22:26:00.000+05:302012-05-12T22:27:18.140+05:30TAKE AWAY PUNJABI LUNCH<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>Sometimes I come across interesting people who have really pushed themselves to do something worthwhile, and do it well. One of these persons is Bharti Arora, an entrepreneur who has taken up the business of catering North Indian food in a hard-core South Indian area like Mylapore in Chennai, and honed it to a thoroughly satisfying skill. I wrote about her while I was with <i>Mylapore Times,</i> our neighbourhood paper. I order food from her regularly, especially when entertaining, and our guests also enjoy her fare. And when she started a new venture, alongside with the catering, she called to let me know. I liked her idea, and wrote about it for<i> Mylapore Times,</i> with whom I still maintain a friendly connection. The following piece (with a few changes) appeared in a recent edition of the paper. </b><br />
<br />
<br />
Packing a healthy and tasty lunch for people at work is always a challenge. Here is something that Bharti Arora offers, a vegetarian lunch that is nutritious and neatly packed, and easy to eat without messing up your fingers. And because it is the staple food of Punjab, it is called Le (pronounced Lay) Punjabi – it means ‘Take Punjabi.’
The lunch pack consists of two <i>parathas </i>- plain, or stuffed with veggies or cheese, and a packet of pickles.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpcRsDwIMa9iX92_nqmxY7Ibi68ZsY51Msqme85_O4Isl73uWrGXXKwSDZEnHZ-aDEN3qq4rV5rFHFu5qYvFvGoL0OzvuXP6AAlmKJRTMehJKnzvPSq18tqjyeCKOI28VI_xhqws-lZh-4/s1600/0076+C.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpcRsDwIMa9iX92_nqmxY7Ibi68ZsY51Msqme85_O4Isl73uWrGXXKwSDZEnHZ-aDEN3qq4rV5rFHFu5qYvFvGoL0OzvuXP6AAlmKJRTMehJKnzvPSq18tqjyeCKOI28VI_xhqws-lZh-4/s320/0076+C.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Bharti Arora </span><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photos Courtesy: <i>Mylapore Times</i></span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The <i>parathas </i>are made fresh every day with whole wheat flour, and do not contain any artificial colours or preservatives. Bharti says they are made in the authentic Punjabi way and are prepared and packed hygienically. “Whole wheat flour is a rich source of dietary fibre, iron, calcium and minerals. It is more nutritious and provides a better option for a healthy diet,” says Bharti.<br />
<br />
Bharti has been in the business of catering, dishing out authentic North Indian food for many a year now. She belongs to New Delhi, and moved to Chennai in 1988, when she got married. She started her kitchen Vege Delights, with the support of husband Sanjiv, “to give people in Chennai authentic Punjabi food,” she says. Orders are taken on the phone, and the food is prepared in her kitchens, and door-delivered.<br />
<br />
“We also take orders for parties and corporate catering,” says Bharti, who lives in R. A. Puram. She loves <i>idlis </i>and <i>dosais</i>, but must have one <i>paratha </i>meal everyday she says.<br />
<br />
Right now her focus is on the brand Le Punjabi and making the packed lunches accessible to as many office-goers as possible.
The parathas come in these varieties - <i>Aloo paratha, Gobi paratha, Mooli paratha, Aloo Methi paratha, Onion paratha and Paneer paratha,</i> and are priced between Rs. 40 and Rs..60.
The parathas are available at many places in the neighbourhood, and in the city too.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCDQUtHvYChDpdtsdh5zm3IlIwjCvbZicdBRKmNfGA1zzgMEZf2J3uSrKsdBoTLTZdENM46E3iVl_3ea6CWQVAXXqzdnI93Xn_ryiOONFAb5U2zovokdhazEasR4IQeRTMS7ktzc2ayZFO/s1600/0009+C.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCDQUtHvYChDpdtsdh5zm3IlIwjCvbZicdBRKmNfGA1zzgMEZf2J3uSrKsdBoTLTZdENM46E3iVl_3ea6CWQVAXXqzdnI93Xn_ryiOONFAb5U2zovokdhazEasR4IQeRTMS7ktzc2ayZFO/s200/0009+C.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
Bharti and Sanjiv may be contacted at 9840060200 and 9840240571.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The photos were taken by R. Saravanan, photographer for the <i>Mylapore Times. </i></span></div>RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-34123754712861555542012-04-24T18:00:00.002+05:302012-04-24T18:01:52.915+05:30THE 'BLESSED-IF-YOU-BUY-JEWELLERY' DAY<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Did you hear that sound? Like something
grating? That was me. I am grinding my teeth. And I do that when I am extremely
irritated or angry.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKPuSd5m119AUTGdVsPeCC0KmzpEb4FAYh-a15zgPwcaAIA-GC9tcTzyok-s76XV5P9bo0_nzgTWUZ8HSrHNVqOjOhipU5-ywg4qeVMxbDWoCWTRnc1lIC8ienZJXhJvhgTy8C8yakbLKx/s1600/IMG_0995.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKPuSd5m119AUTGdVsPeCC0KmzpEb4FAYh-a15zgPwcaAIA-GC9tcTzyok-s76XV5P9bo0_nzgTWUZ8HSrHNVqOjOhipU5-ywg4qeVMxbDWoCWTRnc1lIC8ienZJXhJvhgTy8C8yakbLKx/s200/IMG_0995.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">I have received in my mail an invitation to
go and buy jewellery on this auspicious day, Akshaya Tritaya, so that I will be
blessed. And the invitation is a glossy three paged affair, with beautiful
colour pictures of jewellery and silver articles. Tempting enough for anyone to
go and pick up a few pieces, and must have cost a pretty penny, no doubt to be
made good with the expected sales on the big day.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaSQoBMWq0AxMXmUNZ4kRkk9appawzhcwmszOUgkKzVC-hmQZjQBipmBuHfeh6jttjdRWlVJOMGgxXv8DN1nB8annZDoL32S1__CvBQhbKejCl1PV4f_B-58V9Aas5etLThimKIJKtMzcP/s1600/IMG_0992.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaSQoBMWq0AxMXmUNZ4kRkk9appawzhcwmszOUgkKzVC-hmQZjQBipmBuHfeh6jttjdRWlVJOMGgxXv8DN1nB8annZDoL32S1__CvBQhbKejCl1PV4f_B-58V9Aas5etLThimKIJKtMzcP/s320/IMG_0992.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Not only this, newspapers and magazines
were swamped yesterday (April 23) with advertisements from jewellers,
inveigling people, luring them into their beautifully lit air-conditioned
showrooms to buy some piece of jewellery and consider themselves blessed. The
smaller jewellers contented themselves with smaller ads. The Hindu had a full page
ad (from a jeweller’s?) yesterday, which also ran a sentence to the effect that The Hindu wished everyone a Happy Akshaya Tritaya Day. Today (April 24) the paper carried an apology on the front page dissociating itself from such sentiments –
and rightly so.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Televison news reports said people were
swarming around jewellery shops, and that these shops had been open from early
in the morning to accommodate shoppers.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Are we really so gullible? When did this desire to get blessed by buying
gold come into being?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">A few years ago we were completely ignorant
of this day. But soon when traders ran out of ideas to sell their wares, other
than for Christmas, Pongal and Deepavali, they chanced on other ‘sale’ tactics
-- like Aadi, summer, school opening,
pre-monsoon, post monsoon, you name it. Every second month there is something
to celebrate and hold a sale. But nothing has picked up like this – Akshaya
Tritaya.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Akshaya is a Sanskrit word meaning
undiminishing, and Tritaya only means the third day after the New Moon. It is
considered an auspicious day for giving to charity, so that the giver is blessed
manifold. Somewhere along the way, the meaning got twisted by jewellers and
their ads, and I think people began to read it as ‘charity begins at home’ and
started buying a small piece of jewellery as an auspicious start.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">From there it has grown to gargantuan
proportions. I saw that some jewellery shop had invited Kerala chendai players
with their typical hypnotic beat to lure shoppers into spending at their shop.
And we have begun to feel that we will be cursed if we don’t buy jewellery on
Akshaya Tritaya. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">I am all for jewellery and the pleasure it
gives us women to wear them, and all for buying jewellery. But I do not want to
be browbeaten into it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Happy shopping folks!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-11214758405533764462012-03-05T21:49:00.000+05:302012-03-05T21:49:09.862+05:30TWO SURPRISES<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well, well, well. It never rains but it
pours. Here is my poor neglected blog, practically moribund, when out of the
blue it is given two awards in a period of three days.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Two dear blogger friends have separately
presented the awards. I am so touched, honoured and delighted by this gesture
of Resmi <span style="color: #500050;">(</span><a href="http://flowersncolors.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #1155cc;">http://flowersncolors.blogspot.com/</span></a><span style="color: #500050;">)</span>and Happy Kitten. <a href="http://under-the-tree-of-tranquility.blogspot.com/2012/03/award.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: #1155cc;">http://under-the-tree-of-tranquility.blogspot.com/2012/03/award.html</span></a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Who would have thought it! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Both are Liebster awards (which in German means 'favourite') yet they are different</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoJ578AkXHCuT7OMth-jr3WaBdKrQdyTFM9x1xs1RhiqBisLIwVcnbO8u2p_cfVg4AwsPmOvxYnFhbdQBOA69duK9o_2xiyuUjWInMoZMtFK7jTfAVm_1cny6RdVvYriIgx1iNEX1A0zjW/s1600/Liebster+award+Resmi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoJ578AkXHCuT7OMth-jr3WaBdKrQdyTFM9x1xs1RhiqBisLIwVcnbO8u2p_cfVg4AwsPmOvxYnFhbdQBOA69duK9o_2xiyuUjWInMoZMtFK7jTfAVm_1cny6RdVvYriIgx1iNEX1A0zjW/s200/Liebster+award+Resmi.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: left;">From Resmi:<br /></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV-9OMqgU5ivJ21J5FwKU0gNxt0O0gcG9T6xE6sgsnhWC2K15B1wOFdhpuFUSVQqs5guOEUYahFcZc8JyZafbOCpq7j0YZ2FOjaplLHysysSkqVWxXFpmGw4ZhB6bihPn6VMGFbZANFcM7/s1600/Liebster+heart.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="70" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV-9OMqgU5ivJ21J5FwKU0gNxt0O0gcG9T6xE6sgsnhWC2K15B1wOFdhpuFUSVQqs5guOEUYahFcZc8JyZafbOCpq7j0YZ2FOjaplLHysysSkqVWxXFpmGw4ZhB6bihPn6VMGFbZANFcM7/s200/Liebster+heart.png" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From Happy Kitten</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The awards come with some simple rules to
be followed</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="color: blue;">Award No. I:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span><b><i>Thank
your Liebster Blog Award presenter on your blog.</i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i><span lang="EN-GB">Link back to the blogger who
presented the award to you.</span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i><span lang="EN-GB">Copy and paste the blog award on your blog.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i><span lang="EN-GB">Present the Liebster Blog Award to 5 blogs of 200 followers or less
who you feel deserve to be noticed.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i><span lang="EN-GB">Let them know they have been chosen
by leaving a comment on their blog.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<strong><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: blue;">Award No. II</span></strong></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Link back to the person who gave you the award.</i><br /><i style="font-weight: bold;">Pick 5 people deserving of the award and notify them on their blogs.</i><br /><i style="font-weight: bold;">Post the award on your blog and spread the love.</i><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">The rules are the same! The best bit is that I am expected to pass on the
awards to five fellow bloggers.<i style="font-weight: bold;"><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This now brings me to an elevated status as
I can choose five bloggers whose posts I enjoy, and confer on them the awards.
And what is best – since they are two different awards, it means I can chose
ten bloggers to give the awards to.But even then, never enough to share with all those whose blogposts I enjoy reading.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">I would really like to include my mother
Lalitha Ramakrishnan (Maiji, as she is famously known ) and her blog, <a href="http://lifeinpondicherry.blogspot.in/">http://lifeinpondicherry.blogspot.in/</a>
which is incredibly interesting because of her memories and records of things
past, but I desist. And for the same reason, I must pass up my sisters <a href="http://seventhchords.blogspot.in/">Gowri </a>and <a href="http://vijiv.blogspot.in/">Viji's </a>, and cousin <a href="http://kaminidandapani.typepad.com/">Kamini's </a>blogs, who are all three terrific writers. No nepotism!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> I am
delighted to name ten blogs which I find interesting. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">The Liebster Award I share with:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Dinakar's <a href="http://mysoreanmusings.blogspot.in/">Mysorean Musings</a>, a kind of diary and has many interesting tales from the recent past </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Flower Girl's <a href="http://madraswanderer.blogspot.in/">Madras Ramblings</a>, all about nature </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Gauri Gharpure's <a href="http://haikutales.blogspot.in/">Short and Sweet</a>, which has short verses illustrated by herself.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Asha's <a href="http://shreshar.blogspot.in/">musings & ramblings,</a> about matters that affect her </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://parayilat.blogspot.in/">Song of The Waves</a>, a blog by Abraham Tharakan, with fantastic pictures and stories about Kerala </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> The Liebster blog with</o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Indrani's <a href="http://isharethese.blogspot.in/">i Share</a>, a blog full of lovely photographs and her travel records </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Rajesh's <a href="http://myindiantravel.blogspot.in/">My India</a> , a travel post with great pictures.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">satchitananda's <a href="http://satchitananda-fromlifespages.blogspot.in/">From Life's Pages</a>, a blog of posts about the world around her. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Ramakrishnan's <a href="http://sankriti.blogspot.in/">Ramblings and Musings</a>, a beautifully illustrated travel blog <a href="http://sankriti.blogspot.in/">http://sankriti.blogspot.in/</a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Sunita's <a href="http://the-urban-gardener.blogspot.in/">The Urban Gardener</a> full of pictures and tales of her lovely garden</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span>I am consumed by pangs of guilt at the
stepmotherly treatment I have meted out to the blog, and shall seriously go
back to the days when I was more active here. And try to justify Resmi’s and
Happy Kitten’s faith in me. Thanks Resmi and Happy Kitten.</div>
</div>RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-78043205495118040872011-12-13T16:26:00.003+05:302012-06-12T20:35:13.481+05:30GOING BANANAS.......OVER BANANAS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi91MDhgzK4YAQMvkIU3qmqIRxH5Uoj4kBN3iROAVcz3C_jCOFCfWa9a6horlmasClJEejJjqdzqfnBYFD5HHx7EVCngt_Z4u2R5zga7yyakcSNTWcnZVDRgE8bVQT85cKxEyCmUp9p_Rg7/s1600/IMG_0599.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi91MDhgzK4YAQMvkIU3qmqIRxH5Uoj4kBN3iROAVcz3C_jCOFCfWa9a6horlmasClJEejJjqdzqfnBYFD5HHx7EVCngt_Z4u2R5zga7yyakcSNTWcnZVDRgE8bVQT85cKxEyCmUp9p_Rg7/s640/IMG_0599.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">I never thought I could get so excited over
a bunch of bananas. It is a commonplace fruit, a part of our daily diet, and
one we see everyday in various shapes and sizes, at home and in the shops. So
why this elation over these tiny ones, barely longer than my fingers! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Because they came from our own front yard.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1qSQjy1fAzwKnhiAw3EbHs75Gb34b0hF8MZG8-adNdr_iJrxrPwSlMDTY0dvyh6M-wVl3nPXv-cCcU18UluwVKSNKRSTXayMkWHRSFmIHVuVOU5qlaSysjrobzPIEpccZyrF6bWu3sBCH/s1600/IMG_0545.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1qSQjy1fAzwKnhiAw3EbHs75Gb34b0hF8MZG8-adNdr_iJrxrPwSlMDTY0dvyh6M-wVl3nPXv-cCcU18UluwVKSNKRSTXayMkWHRSFmIHVuVOU5qlaSysjrobzPIEpccZyrF6bWu3sBCH/s320/IMG_0545.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We live on the first floor of the house my
father-in-law built about 60 years ago. We used to live on the ground floor and
moved upstairs for various reasons nearly 20 years ago. A bad move, let me tell
you, when you are getting older, and your knees and other joints are beginning
to creak. Till the early 90s , before there was water shortage and our well
dried up, we maintained a fairly decent garden in the front yard. At one time, we even grew brinjals and snake
gourds on one part. We had a little hedge of henna (marudani) shrubs, which was
very popular. People took them freely, asking permission sometimes, and
sometimes not. There were some hibiscus bushes, enough to give us blossoms for
the pooja room pictures. And other flowers and crotons. There even was a
jasmine pandal. My brother-in-law, visiting from the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">USA</st1:country-region></st1:place> remarked that it looked like a lush tropical garden. Sadly, no
pictures exist of those days.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">When the drought came, and water was at a premium,
I had to let the garden go. It was sad, but we just couldn’t buy water to water
the garden. We comforted ourselves by saying that when the rains came, the
plants would sprout new leaves. But the rains failed successively for some
years, and our garden slowly died. Except for the two coconut palms which
valiantly stood their ground. We then moved upstairs, and we left the tending
of the front yard to the occupants downstairs – my brother-in-law’s office.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbWLeIkjakzyezLwL9RtLnAUHO-eAQU-OhyphenhyphenjDWq2PrduQEUFoo67wC28kuBJvUq5jtzW7XF5EVIVZGkN5Jb6o9SDA4LLn_WPXBjMP1OLAYvVV482TDhSGOU3ccx7rRAIkY8mtAPR-Ek77e/s1600/IMG_0613.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbWLeIkjakzyezLwL9RtLnAUHO-eAQU-OhyphenhyphenjDWq2PrduQEUFoo67wC28kuBJvUq5jtzW7XF5EVIVZGkN5Jb6o9SDA4LLn_WPXBjMP1OLAYvVV482TDhSGOU3ccx7rRAIkY8mtAPR-Ek77e/s200/IMG_0613.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">All these years, apart from pulling up the
henna shrubs, much to my dismay, for they planned to do some landscape
gardening, they did not do much. The yard in the front and sides were swept
clean and the few shrubs that remained watered.
Two more palm trees, which my neighbour Yogambal had given me when they
were about four feet high, remained at the same height. But the last few years there has been plenty
of rainfall, and our two palm trees have risen, and their fronds hang very
romantically over our balcony – I remember scenes in movies where the hero and
heroine would croon on the balcony with the palm leaves in the background.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">But I have meandered. My story is about
this person with green fingers. He is Chandrasekar, employed by the office
downstairs as a security person. Looking at him in his grey uniform , you would
never think that he could get down on the ground and work such marvels. He has
changed the face of the front yard. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Chandrasekar is from the rural areas and
came to <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Madras</st1:city></st1:place>
to make a living. But his roots are in the green pastures of his village home near Trichy,
and his passion is growing things. Rather than sit idle, he has spent his
‘watching’ hours, if you will pardon the pun, fruitfully. He has planted all
sorts of green plants all over the place, and some in pots which he has painted
himself. Some of the pots have been painted with letters that spell out
WELCOME. He repainted the <i>thulasi madam</i> and made sure the <i>thulasi </i>is green and
flourishing. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKw8FzOmHaCNR1f7uclg4_x1MEsnFvi_Lr9L9QzwKbpaJBTIL3TIim0LhZGBXDh452ewwgpCmal6JBRUWV9UdgPC5LHITKsIOZxg6r06U_uVuaOhvU0suoN58ehxP7CjIKKBhyphenhyphenk8W0IO7_/s1600/IMG_0615.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKw8FzOmHaCNR1f7uclg4_x1MEsnFvi_Lr9L9QzwKbpaJBTIL3TIim0LhZGBXDh452ewwgpCmal6JBRUWV9UdgPC5LHITKsIOZxg6r06U_uVuaOhvU0suoN58ehxP7CjIKKBhyphenhyphenk8W0IO7_/s200/IMG_0615.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Not an inch of space has gone waste. There is also a betel leaf
creeper in a pot. (And I have one on the balcony, too). </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">He got hold of some
banana saplings and planted them, and tended them so sincerely. It was no
wonder when one of them flowered. When we returned after our extended trip we
were so happy to see the small fruits. My grand daughter who loves bananas was
happy to see them on the tree and touched them gingerly. </span>The fruits were then ready for picking and
Chandrsekar cut off the bunch and gave us the green fruits to ripen. And that is the bunch you see at the top of this page.</div>
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And now another plant has borne fruit, too. </div>
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</div>RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-27408057168651115602011-11-23T12:55:00.001+05:302011-11-23T19:44:58.651+05:30YOU TOO, HINDU?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-GB">After a gap of six months I was looking at
our regular newspaper, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Hindu</i>.
Because I was rather busy I did not take time to pore over everything, but
skimmed over the headlines and the Letters page for a couple of days. Prominent
among the letters were references to Khushwant Singh praising <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Hindu</i>. I was pleased. Now here was a
good writer appreciating quality media. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><a href="http://www.thehindu.com/opinion/Readers-Editor/article2565233.ece">See this</a></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">As I began settling down to my daily routine,
including filter coffee and The Hindu in the mornings, I began to notice some
aberrations. The headlines were, well, just not up to the mark, not impersonal
enough to reflect the seriousness of the articles or the dignified nature of
the paper. I brushed the thought aside,
thinking that I must be expecting too much, since I was not impressed either with
the newspapers I had seen in Seattle or New York. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">But some days later I saw headlines with
puns in the paper, which would have seemed right on a tabloid, trivialising serious news. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">One was on
November 10, : <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Now, Moody's blues
for Indian banks, w</b>hen the financial/rating company had downgraded Indian
banks.<br />
<br />
The other came a few days later - <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Niira
Radia says 'tata' to PR, </b>when the infamous political lobbyist who had
single handedly managed to bring down a whole lot of big names, and among whose
clients was Tata, announced her decision to quit the PR business. This was a
very tacky <a href="http://www.thehindu.com/business/companies/article2582595.ece">headline</a>, I felt, and in bad taste.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">http://www.thehindu.com/business/companies/article2582595.ece</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Then last week when the government-run milk
agency in Tamilnadu hiked its prices, and people were beginning to protest
against this hike, the Hindu’s headline on November 20 ran</span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB">After
price hike, Aavin card holders no longer hold the aces. </span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Another headline today </span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB">Now,
vegetable prices put consumers in soup</span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Maybe they sound clever to the editors and
sub editors who wrote them, but I feel it brings down the standard of the
newspaper.</span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK_7VCluZX9C7I4zZyqVqVMwRVkkk4f1kQfEFYOMjwNxKRLXInfgjOrvHnp2UMMFJPiV17I6F26ICytQdDivDUW6X3Ld2a7FbiTOttdjXqmZabE-L56Os9z4KPtzE-U4x63-wZbC-dsSCp/s1600/vbk-22dhanush_844152f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK_7VCluZX9C7I4zZyqVqVMwRVkkk4f1kQfEFYOMjwNxKRLXInfgjOrvHnp2UMMFJPiV17I6F26ICytQdDivDUW6X3Ld2a7FbiTOttdjXqmZabE-L56Os9z4KPtzE-U4x63-wZbC-dsSCp/s200/vbk-22dhanush_844152f.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The picture of singer Dhanush in the newspapaer.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span lang="EN-GB">Then to crown it all, the most trivial of
entertainment news finds place on page 1 today. – the popularity of a song from
a yet-to-be released film, and how it has gone viral, gaining instant
popularity on the internet . Good news, of course. But <a href="http://www.thehindu.com/arts/cinema/article2650957.ece">page 1?</a></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Don’t for a minute think I don’t like the
song, I do - it is very catchy. Listen
to it <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1JagUR48mXE">here.</a></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">: </span></div>
</div>RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-55227894926254854332011-11-04T17:55:00.000+05:302011-11-23T14:32:23.662+05:30SHINE ON, SHORN OR LONG!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<span lang="EN-GB">Tresses, curls, locks - all beautiful words
for a beautiful part of ourselves – our crowning glory, hair. </span>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA8orSsV-lfj26DbW__jkj59DfU9X2ugL00mGg4S6Tf_6Vx0x6r9bdOuh8lPolLBpbwc9YBQSaygN6SuSrZcUiQM2nkot6h4_a_X1M1zBrjr51oRnQ6hphwTg_LMIzFKRnoKSriczWnbob/s1600/Rapunzel05_thumb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA8orSsV-lfj26DbW__jkj59DfU9X2ugL00mGg4S6Tf_6Vx0x6r9bdOuh8lPolLBpbwc9YBQSaygN6SuSrZcUiQM2nkot6h4_a_X1M1zBrjr51oRnQ6hphwTg_LMIzFKRnoKSriczWnbob/s200/Rapunzel05_thumb.jpg" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rapunzel (Courtesy Internet)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Hair plays an important part in the overall
appearance of a person, and beautiful hair often indicates beautiful people. Literary
physical descriptions of persons usually include hair – its colour, condition,
length, texture. And some characters in legends and stories are remembered for
their special hair. Like Rapunzel, who was locked up in a high tower without
steps by a witch, and whose hair was the only way to reach the tower. The
prince who loved her climbed up the length of her hair which she threw down
from the window of the tower. Can you imagine the length and strength of that
delightful mane?</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRuZDETlGZWB_a3ZY_7xONUW9k5lAYeIq14oQOVgiJ-PAVF9abPDy2rbV3ImzgW8t5D0Sra-eLqoo0qiIMecQMMPpZbPis1fUW-xa-Zt3Dz0JLvXr9kzw7TN1_pCJm3ZKXMhe50M_8PwoT/s1600/lady-godiva.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRuZDETlGZWB_a3ZY_7xONUW9k5lAYeIq14oQOVgiJ-PAVF9abPDy2rbV3ImzgW8t5D0Sra-eLqoo0qiIMecQMMPpZbPis1fUW-xa-Zt3Dz0JLvXr9kzw7TN1_pCJm3ZKXMhe50M_8PwoT/s200/lady-godiva.jpg" width="170" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lady Godiva (Courtesy Internet)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Lady Godiva covered herself with her long
tresses to ride through the town. Her husband the rich lord had said that if she rode naked through the town, he would
reduce taxes for the commoners. Her hair served as a cloak, and not even the
lone person who dared to peep out as she rode by (all the villagers had vowed
to close their doors and windows and stay inside) could see anything but her
hair. Now see how handy long hair is?</span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsp-1Vg_3_0-eDkSBSVfUDwm_7tGpfhYtsCmLmY8nbnAkWEiCFBbu0mqL-PW_8nB5eu-kEhRWz70MwoMqDDDcNFMJPWyY58P7c6iS1G89RvKDoUdpLN99vMODVB5n5Vgr8tdln9P3R3YGr/s1600/samson_delilah1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsp-1Vg_3_0-eDkSBSVfUDwm_7tGpfhYtsCmLmY8nbnAkWEiCFBbu0mqL-PW_8nB5eu-kEhRWz70MwoMqDDDcNFMJPWyY58P7c6iS1G89RvKDoUdpLN99vMODVB5n5Vgr8tdln9P3R3YGr/s200/samson_delilah1.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Samson and Delilah (Courtesy Internet)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Samson’s very strength was in his long
hair, and when the bewitching Delilah, learnt his secret, she told his enemies
where his strength lay. They cut his hair and the poor man was left a weak and
broken man.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">In art too our own Ravi Varma has painted
goddesses and women with long flowing hair, just as his European counterparts
like Botticelli (Birth of Venus) have.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIujIBaII-HMl5F5FG_npRZxbWuiY4_sIoZC-LKqQ_kCwZ7OhqXeqkYwT_c4fldJN7VJ9Sc6657bdoVZS7ferkrJnkh_13SB5bHnha7n8W1enYDhmD97CsypVJFurKXTHlmBF39vTxtNs8/s1600/raja_ravi_varma_oleograph_14_mohini.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIujIBaII-HMl5F5FG_npRZxbWuiY4_sIoZC-LKqQ_kCwZ7OhqXeqkYwT_c4fldJN7VJ9Sc6657bdoVZS7ferkrJnkh_13SB5bHnha7n8W1enYDhmD97CsypVJFurKXTHlmBF39vTxtNs8/s200/raja_ravi_varma_oleograph_14_mohini.jpg" width="147" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ravi Varma's Mohini (Courtesy Internet)</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYkhkKqO-90_86vSnfObdyHzNZuwPbrmhPIyuSM_Y2OATeK23OgcUaBn1nvsuDgWeiFTNWlOjPOyGvayi-let7IOcKedJ-e7ajojjD4KvWn5TQTNOqtgVhf2fFJPa-2jahwMmjwOFXlyz4/s1600/550px-La_nascita_di_Venere_%2528Botticelli%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="127" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYkhkKqO-90_86vSnfObdyHzNZuwPbrmhPIyuSM_Y2OATeK23OgcUaBn1nvsuDgWeiFTNWlOjPOyGvayi-let7IOcKedJ-e7ajojjD4KvWn5TQTNOqtgVhf2fFJPa-2jahwMmjwOFXlyz4/s200/550px-La_nascita_di_Venere_%2528Botticelli%2529.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Botticelli's Birth of Venus (Courtesy Internet)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Till recently women wore their hair long,
and considered it a thing of beauty, caring for it, and grooming it well. A
hundred strokes with the brush before bed was an assured form of getting that
shine. Brushing ensures that the hair is tangle free and massages the scalp as
well. The other use the hairbrush was put to need not be mentioned here. </span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmVHXBBE-WOym8OJ01_EVw-5p7ISHkzXavUlUcmwfIREafZIErmuJ-2bTMhUVNVlacl7khIu2u8zQB6JLVBWmNkXYfJfj2RYGQdE4WEIfk2RH540byz2wgiJhRWkJ0H040SMZW5hN8zHO_/s1600/bald.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmVHXBBE-WOym8OJ01_EVw-5p7ISHkzXavUlUcmwfIREafZIErmuJ-2bTMhUVNVlacl7khIu2u8zQB6JLVBWmNkXYfJfj2RYGQdE4WEIfk2RH540byz2wgiJhRWkJ0H040SMZW5hN8zHO_/s200/bald.jpg" width="161" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Persis (Courtesy Internet)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Long or short, women are fascinated with
the styling and grooming of hair. If it is curly, we want it straight. If
straight, we want it wavy. And no, not
everyone can look as charming as Persis Khambatta did, without hair. She shaved
her head for a movie role and still looked great.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"> I
used to long for wavy hair, I remember, and hated it when the ends of my plaits
stuck out like broomsticks. While as children we suffered the weekly oil massage
and following wash, we now realise now that it helps bring a rush of blood to the roots and stimulate them. During the
days I was growing up, there was a biweekly ritual of massaging the head with
coconut oil (which was heated with powdered peppercorns) and then washing it
off with shikakai or the paste of Bengal gram
powder. This kept the hair soft and silky. We also washed our hair daily with
plain water. I still do it, though the biweekly massage seems to have become bi
annual! Well almost. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Here is a real life Rapunzel, my friend
from college days. Her hair was long, thick and she wore them in two plaits
reaching right down to her thighs. She put <i>sambrani </i>in her hair after washing
it, and it smelt so divine. In the picture you see only <i>one </i>of her plaits. The
one alongside her is me, with my pigtail hanging behind modestly.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"> Washing the oil off has become simpler with
so many shampoos available. I remember when I went to Manchester in the early 70s I was amazed at
the number of shampoos in the shops. And I indulged myself by trying out a
different one each time. At home here, there was only Tata’s shampoo, which
came in the same type of bottle as the Tata hair oil. Many a laughter riot took
place when my grandfather mistook the shampoo for the oil, and ended up with a
head full of bubbles. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">In Kerala and Bengal,
women are blessed with lustrous long hair. I have wondered if the fish eating habits
in these regions have contributed to this. Definitely, healthy eating habits contribute
to healthy shining hair, if not to the texture or thickness. Lots of greens and
protein are a sure way to bring that sheen to you hair. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaJ11wZ_YeJAYgAv4-5-wF_pyL9DI416mjqAEDjKY99qObGRzjNB8uR8CFxJRXJAc1oIhml0eBK-Tnkof7CgtNwsk_C7MsL2gNbHyoLlh28S_DFm3pOAyB8byEYko0dGq8KfzV3Cuhq7j6/s1600/IMG_0520.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaJ11wZ_YeJAYgAv4-5-wF_pyL9DI416mjqAEDjKY99qObGRzjNB8uR8CFxJRXJAc1oIhml0eBK-Tnkof7CgtNwsk_C7MsL2gNbHyoLlh28S_DFm3pOAyB8byEYko0dGq8KfzV3Cuhq7j6/s200/IMG_0520.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Born in Kerala, I spent many years outside
the state, till finally settling down in Chennai after marriage. I have not cut
my hair but let it grow. Gray now, it falls down to my thighs, but sadly, lacks
the thickness it used to have in my young days. I used to trim it to hip length
regularly to keep the ends even. Now I require the extra length to hold it when
I put up my hair, to make up for the lack of thickness. My seven year-old
granddaughter is however impressed, and longs to grow her own. She has silky
straight hair, but it is kept short for easy management.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I still love massaging, oiling my hair and
shampooing it regularly. I am looking forward to using the products in this
delightful hamper. </span><span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
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RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-71077867866544176132011-10-21T10:16:00.002+05:302011-11-23T14:32:23.697+05:30THE LETTER I DID NOT SEND<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
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<span lang="EN-GB">We are back after spending six months with
our children in Seattle and Newport. Our return trip on October 17, a
Monday, from Seattle was also via London – a British Airways
flight with a one hour stop. One hour to make the connecting flight to Chennai!
When I realised that, panic master that I am, I started worrying about it –
will we make the connection or not? What would happen if we did not? Innumerable
other questions and unlikely scenarios passed through my mind, which I freely
shared with everyone. ( I am sure they were fed up with me!). I am quite a
Cassandra when it comes to air travel, always sure that something will go
wrong.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">We decided to ask for a wheelchair at London so I would not
have to walk the distance (I sometimes have a problem walking fast) from the
landing gate to the connecting gate - sometimes these gates are quite far
apart. And we had seen how quickly wheelchair transported people are helped to
get on flights. We were also reassured that since the two flights were the same
airline, there would be some sort of communication between the flights, and
that we would be able to board the connecting flight without any problems.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">At Seattle
airport while checking in, my son Sankar was told when he enquired that there
would be no problems at all, that we would make the connection without any
trouble, as one hour would be plenty of time. So that was good. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I was armed with a cell phone which had
been successfully recharged just prior to our departure day, so that we could
contact Sankar and tell him when we boarded at London.
</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">The flight took off a few minutes late, but
made up easily. However landing at Heathrow was delayed because of it being a
busy time - noon. We got off first from the aircraft, thanks to a very nice and
considerate stewardess who sympathised with us and led us out – and deposited
me on the wheelchair which was ready. We
were already 15 minutes late. Flight was at one pm, and boarding closed
at 12.40. We had about 20 minutes to reach the gate – after security.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I decided to write a letter to our agent
who had arranged the wheelchair for us, purportedly from my husband, about our interesting experience.</span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB">Dear
Sir</span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB">Thank
you. The wheelchair was waiting. Very
nice of you to have arranged it.<br />
<br />
But we made the connection with great difficulty, as there is only one hour to do it. The plane from London
was late, the emplaning gate was very far off. The air hostess very
graciously allowed us to disembark first, even before the first class
passengers. Apart from my wife there were four other people who had asked for
wheelchairs. The wheelchair persons were transferred to a motorised cart (for
five people) to be transported to the departure gate. The cart driver had to
wait for the fifth person, but that person did not turn up – he must have got
off. So the driver left a little late, as he had to make sure that person
wasn't waiting. All these delays added up to quite a few minutes. By the time
my wife got to security, boarding was closed because of all the delay.<br />
<br />
In the meantime, I along with others had to wait for a train to take us to the
gate. Fortunately, a staff member was with us to guide us. The train did not
come in time, and so we walked and ran all the way (almost half a mile) to
security for the gate to fly from. But I made it. <br />
<br />
And my wife did not. When the lady at the entrance to security checked on
her computer, she found that boarding had closed. My wife was told that she
could not board. My wife pointed out that she was travelling with me, and
they checked on the computer and found that I had boarded. My wife told them
she had to travel with me, and so asked that I should be
offloaded. <br />
<br />
I had got into the plane thinking since she had gone in the car, she would be
in the plane before me. I was shocked to see she was not. I also asked to be
offloaded, as we had to travel together .<br />
.<br />
In the meantime, the person at security got on the phone and managed to
persuade the flight people to take us. Since there was no crowd at security and
we could be cleared quickly, she requested them to wait for us five passengers,
and they agreed, thankfully. <br />
It was a mad and tense hour. </span></i></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"> Lessons learnt</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">1. In future we should not take these one hour
connection flights.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">2. Wheelchair facilities do not ensure/guarantee
boarding. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">3. Ask for wheelchairs for both, or avoid
it – at least you will be together, board or miss.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">4. Flights will not be held up if you miss
your connection – even if it is the airlines’ fault with late landings. They
will re-route you. In our case the next flight to Chennai was after two days, on
Friday.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">5. Even your vegetarian meal will be off
loaded if you don’t make it – we learnt that our special meal had been returned
as we had not made it on time. Fortunately we had some other food – and it was good,
too. Since the destination was Chennai, there was vegetarian food available.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">6. Luggage will be offloaded if the
passenger does not board. I was fully confident that at least two of our bags
would not arrive. But hey! What a pleasant surprise. They were all there in Madras when we landed.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">P.S. I didn’t send the letter.</span></div>
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RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-54769769530102373062011-09-14T10:34:00.001+05:302011-11-23T14:32:23.649+05:30HURRICANE POWER<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><b><i>A couple of weeks ago, when Hurricane Irene was not even thought of, we went with my son Sriram and his family from Newport, New Jersey for a short vacation to Corpus Christi in Texas, to join my son Sankar and his family for his birthday celebrations at his sister-in-law’s. Two days into the holiday, Hurricane Irene came into being and took on great significance, since it was predicted that it would hit just where we resided, bang opposite the river from New York city. Initial relief at having escaped the fury of nature, turned to alarm as we realized (a) our return flight was cancelled. (b) our apartment could be in one of the areas most affected by the hurricanes, with rains pouring into the 10<sup>th</sup> floor balcony and entering the rooms. My son narrates what happened n</i><i>ext…</i></b>.<br />
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</div><b>Continental- OK breakfast but shoddy Airline</b><br />
<br />
It started with a call to my colleague, Jimmy at work on Thursday the 25th of August, when he mentioned the “I” word. Irene, he said was expected to cross New York City on Sunday which meant I could have problems with my flight back from Texas scheduled the same day. Soon after, I started tracking the hurricane on the Weather Channel in Corpus Christi, where I was visiting my brother’s sister-in-law and husband (Meera and Moey) along with my parents, Vandana and Samyukta. My brother, Shankar and his family were already holidaying there. My vacation for the most part hitherto was gulping Shiner Bock, a local favorite brew and goofing around with my nieces and daughter, amidst dips at the pool in the backyard.<br />
At some point during Friday morning, it was reported that some of the airlines including JetBlue and American canceling all weekend flights into most of east coast including all the New York Airports. However, Continental’s website continued to show through all of Friday afternoon, that my flight back was on schedule for Sunday. The Weather Channel, which I watched more of that day than I had done all my life, presented ominous scenarios Irene could unleash on NYC (bringing to mind devastating pictures of flooded streets, submerged train lines- images straight out of disaster movies such as “I Am Legend”, “Day After Tomorrow”, etc).<br />
The pithy cancelation mail from the airlines came on Friday evening - almost telegraphic, with simply the notice of cancelation. I promptly call Orbitz and put on hold for almost four hours (surely a record, at least for me!). I did get a reprieve for about 45 minutes when I was doing Samyukta’s bedtime routine and Vandana took over from me the Muzak from Orbitz..<br />
At some point the family got tired of the sight of me on the phone, being only half engaged in the general merry-making and urged that I abort this attempt. They offered other recommendations like heading to the local airport the first thing next morning to rebook from there, try calling the next morning when there are more agents to answer calls. My father, the eternal optimist in the American Way emphatically stated that the airline would contact me and accommodate me in Monday’s flight,.<br />
I subsequently called Continental directly only to be told that my call could not be taken due to the high call volume - absurd and frustrating. I vaguely remembered someone saying that they were in a similar situation last winter with canceled flights but got lucky with the Elite number as those calls are always taken. I googled to see if that number was floating around but had no luck. I then tried my luck with Facebook. Facebook, which had subjected me to asinine updates <br />
<br />
like the colors of people’s underclothes and more recently to people’s cravings, could serve some higher purpose after all. My status update was changed to a request to my friends to send me the 1800 Elite number. My ever reliable friends (and one family member) replied with alacrity providing details of THE number and their account numbers. I promptly called this number and was asked to stay on hold while it played a recorded message. It got a little tiring hearing Continental’s spiel on how important I was and how their “congress of chefs and sommeliers” cook gourmet spreads for me and prepare my wine while I fly.<br />
It was my brother's birthday on the 27th which was one of the main reasons we were visiting Corpus Christi. I joined the rest of the family in their Birthday chants and merry making at the stroke of midnight; the bluster from Continental continued to flow into my defenseless ear.<br />
My sister in-law’s birthday gift was the Beatles Rock Band and the whole family was harmonizing Beatles songs into the wee hours of the night. A couple of hours into the call, a live voice finally appeared on the other side and exclaimed Beatles while people were belting out Taxman in the background. Fantastic I thought - she listens to the Beatles and I have to milk that! In the course of the small talk we indulged in on Beatles, she mentioned that she had trouble getting her hands on White Album. Now unless you are looking to shop in Circuit City or lurking around half-empty Borders, this should be a relatively easy task. I said that her best bet was buying it from Amazon in the hope that it would earn me some goodwill.<br />
Within an instant, she said that there were no flights available to any of the New York airports from Houston till Friday, the 2nd of September. She said all available tickets were already booked by passengers from other Airlines, which made no sense at all. I was incredulous and asked if she could redirect me to New York via any other place, while she put me on hold for another 30 minutes or so. She came back with what she said was the best option available. Fly to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania via Cleveland and Houston from Corpus Christi and then drive from there into New Jersey. The earliest date available to the journey with this tortuous itinerary was Tuesday, the 30th of August.<br />
In the meanwhile, all mainstream Channels continued to present an apocalyptic picture of New York and how prepared the city was getting for this cataclysmic event. My building in Jersey City was right on the Hudson riverfront and there were messages from the Condo manager to the building newsgroup asking residents to move things from their balcony, stay away from the glass windows and move to the corridor if things got really worse. The Cassandra in me imagined gale forces breaking my apartment’s windows, and inundating the wooden floors and molds proliferating consequently. I also had visions of all our significant documents destroyed in the deluge.<br />
<br />
I called my concierge and asked him to move things around so nothing was in the balcony or by the windows. He not only moved it within minutes but also called to confirm that everything was taken care of and provided some peace of mind on that front. Clearly he was not schooled in the Continental customer service academy.<br />
We finally made the trip back traveling most of Tuesday which for most part was thankfully smooth. We reached home in the wee hours of the 31st fatigued and worn out but relieved to find that everything in the building and apartment was almost as we had left it. I felt much better and more fortunate as the day progressed when I heard more horrific tales of Continental’s monumental missteps, which I am sure there were plenty more of. Two sets of families, both supposed to fly back that Sunday from Vegas and Aruba respectively, were instead driving back in one case and returning on the 5th I of September n another.<br />
Like I said before-OK breakfast and lousy airline!!<br />
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</div></div>RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-39014843823705212242011-03-08T22:55:00.001+05:302012-10-03T21:45:11.855+05:30A SPRING EXERCISE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-GB">Between a mother who cooks, knits, <a href="http://lifeinpondicherry.blogspot.com/">blogs</a> and thinks nothing of getting up at 4 and making some vadam dough because the sun is shining brightly, and a sister who <a href="http://vijiv.blogspot.com/2011/03/tiffin-time-at-home.html">works full-time and cooks for hubby</a> late at night after returning home, I stand out as a person who happily thinks nothing of doing nothing .</span> <br />
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<span lang="EN-GB">One morning last week I got up at my usual time and walked groggily to the balcony to get some fresh air. And this is what I saw.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEyPdXreJy2aLABnp-BpAjlRu7mSEfsXZfH8c5ZGz98sBjszYPF7nM6PKxJZS0W3HR1NRz8I56aC2WqGYF5leu8Bym3LtgIMwYfADIYKJK1saxlcDWnPh-zzhdnhKu38DdQhrhdQG9UrTL/s1600/100_4068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEyPdXreJy2aLABnp-BpAjlRu7mSEfsXZfH8c5ZGz98sBjszYPF7nM6PKxJZS0W3HR1NRz8I56aC2WqGYF5leu8Bym3LtgIMwYfADIYKJK1saxlcDWnPh-zzhdnhKu38DdQhrhdQG9UrTL/s640/100_4068.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">My mother had been busy - not wanting to waste the March sun, she had got up at 4 am and finished making the dough for the vadam and spread it out in cute circles on banana leaves which she had herself gone down and cut from the banana trees in the garden below! And all this before I had even woken up. (Every self-respecting Madras housewife knows that this is the season to make and dry vadam, and store them to last through the year.)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPQ5bIlmRa41U4GG0dfQjGfw9SuYW7VtWb3rVwFYXkIIWPPwd_1ydh2BscUrFURPGA0czKY23Qtl_yUk3j3Pwq8qILW-uNIFWrGmhFlS0FrqLJg6ulO2u5xXn5u6IP_UeBzqMOiKtsB36Z/s1600/100_4071.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPQ5bIlmRa41U4GG0dfQjGfw9SuYW7VtWb3rVwFYXkIIWPPwd_1ydh2BscUrFURPGA0czKY23Qtl_yUk3j3Pwq8qILW-uNIFWrGmhFlS0FrqLJg6ulO2u5xXn5u6IP_UeBzqMOiKtsB36Z/s640/100_4071.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"> Enough to put anyone to shame. Fortunately, I am made of sterner stuff, and did not in the least feel any twinges of guilt. While she made sure that the vadams were dried thoroughly for three whole days, chasing the sun from this end of the balcony to the other, I (like the lilies of the field?) stood and took pictures. The vadaams then took on a glazed and shiny appearance, indicating they were well and thoroughly dried. Then my mother laboriously removed them from the (also dried) leaves, and dried them once again - to be stored, and ready for frying.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHH6-Ndn9_hiKUOBUZB4xtTXYWqqEj2vRUBpnRE8bZ_ek5QUBYOlJv0W-4fL25svnXwKb6bUFWFBGFJ97mTPpDLFpO9d5tBZIoXeVfvxx0Dee5VohyphenhyphenkbBCXGi7jT2lnftiJf-4k58wB_Ql/s1600/100_4079.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="484" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHH6-Ndn9_hiKUOBUZB4xtTXYWqqEj2vRUBpnRE8bZ_ek5QUBYOlJv0W-4fL25svnXwKb6bUFWFBGFJ97mTPpDLFpO9d5tBZIoXeVfvxx0Dee5VohyphenhyphenkbBCXGi7jT2lnftiJf-4k58wB_Ql/s640/100_4079.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Dried and ready to be fried</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4SWLNB2XwXw_2ev_gteRE0-QK9BdkHe107fOtuadVp_QfAuCZ0wMoFp3ga5cIedIq4k3_KsclAcvXa7v5TDFdSVRO6Act54s2NJkRgPTbpVeeIBb66KH8Ko3VULQUWTGqhfT_kKWBpJLc/s1600/100_4088.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="484" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4SWLNB2XwXw_2ev_gteRE0-QK9BdkHe107fOtuadVp_QfAuCZ0wMoFp3ga5cIedIq4k3_KsclAcvXa7v5TDFdSVRO6Act54s2NJkRgPTbpVeeIBb66KH8Ko3VULQUWTGqhfT_kKWBpJLc/s640/100_4088.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The fried vadam, ready to be eaten</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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But guess who was the first to congratulate her when she fried them and served them to be tasted? Oh, they were so good, crisp and white and fluffy!.</div>
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<br />
<span lang="EN-GB">The next batch is being readied now..... </span></div>
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RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-37160898947786815512011-03-08T22:20:00.001+05:302011-11-23T14:32:23.590+05:30A SPRING EXERCISE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">I am different!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Between a mother who knits, blogs and thinks nothing of getting up at 4 and making some vadam dough because the sun is shining brightly, and a sister who works full-time and cooks for hubby late at night after returning home, I stand out as a person who thinks nothing of doing nothing .</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">One morning last week I got up at my usual time and walked groggily to the balcony to get some fresh air. And this is what I saw.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">My mother had been busy - not wanting to waste the March sun, she had got up at 4 am and finished making the dough for the vadam and spread it out on cute circles on banana leaves which she had herself gone down and cut from the banana trees! And all this before I had even woken up.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Enough to put anyone to shame. Fortunately, I am made of sterner stuff, and did not in the least feel any twinges of guilt. While she made sure that the vadams were dried thoroughly for three whole days, chasing the sun from this end of the balcony to the other, I (like the lilies of the field?) stood and took pictures. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">But I was the first to congratulate her when she fried them and served them to be tasted. Oh they were so good.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div></div>RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-14540468971860591892011-02-12T07:42:00.000+05:302011-11-23T14:32:23.543+05:30IS THAT ME!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEickavEM0G7KG17I9VVoatX6ZQsQBHF8CYanH33FDgWCwuRhUDSDPDalr2nNaEOhimtLt4LI3BrUoaYGFYvN6ingns96gIDM72HsFo9LcLMv1opUnLbUhdp0grjUC_McFFhjzXpUj7tCLzQ/s1600/for+beds+unmade.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEickavEM0G7KG17I9VVoatX6ZQsQBHF8CYanH33FDgWCwuRhUDSDPDalr2nNaEOhimtLt4LI3BrUoaYGFYvN6ingns96gIDM72HsFo9LcLMv1opUnLbUhdp0grjUC_McFFhjzXpUj7tCLzQ/s200/for+beds+unmade.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Bed unmade,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Table not cleared,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Lunch not cooked, </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Clothes unwashed, </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Dishes piled up.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Books unread, </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Movies unwatched, </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Songs unsung, </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Prayers unsaid</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Classes missed.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Phone silenced, </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Emails unanswered,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Children ignored,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Friends forgotten</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Whatever happened?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Placing titbits, </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Writing comments,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Liking posts,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Virtual living</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Mommy’s networking!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div></div>RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7108332737182280632.post-285229039591752752010-10-29T11:29:00.003+05:302011-11-23T14:32:23.578+05:30MAIJI IN THE HINDU<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8a4W-OFzVyQHMlVtPQ4sqqTmnFCLvnxiW7q3EKSwpfeFVzvE1vNgWaFkmhEVf_mHv_WBposY9boZXUOzrZXNr9BoO8oZEkXDJwRx-ziipB0RbcVV_WAk2wyUj_ZM88XbWzaB0NNR-DkKp/s1600/23MP_LALITHA__273187f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8a4W-OFzVyQHMlVtPQ4sqqTmnFCLvnxiW7q3EKSwpfeFVzvE1vNgWaFkmhEVf_mHv_WBposY9boZXUOzrZXNr9BoO8oZEkXDJwRx-ziipB0RbcVV_WAk2wyUj_ZM88XbWzaB0NNR-DkKp/s320/23MP_LALITHA__273187f.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">When we were growing up, my mother (Maiji, as we and everyone else calls her) had trained us not to brag about ourselves or our achievements (what little there were). Fortunately she never placed a restriction on us showing off about her. For that is just what I am going to do!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">It was a very pleasurable moment for our family when Maiji was noticed by the big newspaper of the city. We are proud of our mother for all her achievements as a housewife, mother, grandmother, great grandmother, master cook, knitter, crossword solver, sudoku finisher and later on as a blogger. We did not seek any publicity, though. We just know Maiji is multi-talented and admire her.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">We appreciate her all the more for carrying on with all these activities, given her problem with her eyes - something Maiji seldom talks about, though she wrote about it once. She has <a href="http://lifeinpondicherry.blogspot.com/2010/05/glaucoma-and-coping-with-it.html">glaucoma</a> which is under control with surgery. (In fact she had another surgery early this week, soon after the publication appeared.) </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">So when the reporter Anusha Parthasarathy of the MetroPlus, The Hindu, contacted her, having spotted Maiji’s blog, we were pleased and to be honest, we were quite thrilled when the article appeared </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">I give below the link to the relevant piece or click <a href="http://www.thehindu.com/life-and-style/society/article843051.ece">here </a></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><a href="http://www.thehindu.com/life-and-style/society/article843051.ece">http://www.thehindu.com/life-and-style/society/article843051.ece</a> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">The picture above is from the article taken by The Hindu photographer Sivaji Rao. I feel he has captured Maiji beautifully.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"> NDTV Hindu, which has a MetroPlus show, came home to follow up the article with a talk with Maiji . The show will be aired on Saturday October 30 at 9.30, and at different times in the week later. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"> </span><i><span lang="EN-GB">You can view NDTV Hindu on Big TV or Tata sky and also on SCV. If you have Tata Sky all you need to do is to go to channel 532 - which is NDTV 24x7 and press the red button on your remote. NDTV Hindu will appear as picture in picture</span><b><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #006600; font-size: 13.5pt;">. </span></b></i><br />
<br />
<div style="color: black;"><b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Update: And if you missed the programme, you can watch it here. </span></b></div><div style="color: black;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2-4vKLwA_Us?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2-4vKLwA_Us?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object> </span><b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><br />
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</div></div>RAJI MUTHUKRISHNANhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09767924355822361427noreply@blogger.com20