Stuck Note

I have this annoying habit and Dee, Chikku and Sai has been hapless victims of the same. Once a song is stuck onto my head, I sing it over and over for days together. Once this got bad, and I sang a song for over a week like a stuck record – it was REAL bad, I assure you.. To be truthful, my voice is not sooo bad. But then I can’t catch onto high notes for my life. So when I sing, it is like the rumbling. And when high pitches come, I squeak like un-oiled door. So, back to the point. I listen to random songs, suddenly I get interested in a particular one and take to it.. I load it on my iPod and on my phone - in repeat mode & when I am not listening I will be singing the same. Funny thing is that, I take after a song, only years after the song is released.. And the only exception to it was Zoobidoobi from 3 idiots.It got stuck in my head the next month after it was released. But then, it didn’t stay with me for long like the others..



The first song to be jammed into my head was “Pyaar ki eek kahani suno” from Honeymoon travels(released in Feb 2007). It happened while I was in Hyderabad, June 2008. And I still remember that, one night I googled for the lyrics of it and wrote it down onto a paper, because we didn’t have printer access there& by hearted the song.. I sang it over and over to my hearts consent, but that didn’t annoy anyone much because my roommate was away most of the time.. And yes, I did bring smile to faces, with this number. It is still a favourite.




The next one is pure murder. We had a project party at The Taj Manjarun, Mangalore in October 2008. A young girl, performed Mayya Mayya from Guru(released in 2007) and it was sheer joy. I was awed by her voice, her ability to catch up to the high notes effortlessly, the way her voice swayed from one to the other from raspy to sweet to husky, as required in the song.. I was dumb-struck for about 6 minutes. And then it happened. The song caught onto me like a vice-grip. I was hooked onto it. From that night onwards, for about 3 weeks Chikku, Dee & Sai had no peace what-so-ever. I sang it from the the time I walked into the door and till the time I walked out- sometimes softly, sometime loudly and sometimes shriekingJ. And at office, I used to listen it from the computer using my headphones. I used to get oblivious to the surrounding and would sing loudly, providing unlimited entertainment to dear cubicle mates… The girls back at 701, begged me, reasoned with me , told me nicely to stop and finally threatened. I wouldn’t have any of it and then gradually the craze died on it’s own. The repeat mode on the song was duly taken off. But even now, I cant play that song just once.. I would play it around 3-4 times even now& is all satisfied J




Zoobidoobi got glued in about a month after the movie was released. Nan too got the bug from me. I was visiting once & she took a liking to the song. She was walking around with my phone, stuck to her ears and listening to it over and over. It was a very sweet scene. She wouldn’t sit down, but was walking from room to room and finally came to the front room & was walking in circles. Nan was very sleepy that night and hence cranky. So each time the song would get over, the little face of hers would crumple up into a annoyed twist and tears would start rolling out. She would come running to me and ask me to change the song for her and that went on for about an hour or so and then the little one just fell asleep…. And I too lost interest in it.

The picture here depicts Nan dancing with her dad for Zoobi-Doobi, when the song was still fresh to our ears...


The last one on my list is Tujh Mein Rab Dikhta Hai from Rab Ne Banaadi Jodi(released in 2008). Heard the song yesterday on TV and it snapped something in my brain. And the lyrics caught onto me like a mouse to cheese (yikes, I HATE mouse)..Whoever wrote it has a way to others heart. I was in tears, literally. And looks like the song is meant to be mine. Evening when I went back home from office, the song was playing on the bus and then once home, saw that the movie is playing tomorrow night on TV.. And the poor roomies are in for a tough few weeks ahead…. J



Go listen to this song guys and dedicate it to your special someone… I just did!!!!!!!!!

It's the Final Countdown

Yesteday, a big shot in my practise at work called to clarify about me working on a project despite on being on a bench code..And when i mentioned that, i am on notice period he graciously said that i can leave by the end of the next week and my manager also was happy with it, because the so-called "crisis" situation in my project has been passed.

It is sitll a doubt whether i will have to leave quitting the job or whether i will get the sabbatical, which i am hoping for. Which ever way it is, i will have to bid farewell to this place in a weeks time.. Booo-Hoooooo...

Though i loved to hate the job i am in now, i am all teary eyed at the mention of leaving here.. I have wonderful friends at work and the roomies, Div & Rah are angels. Though, Jos is one-of-a-kind pest, she provided unlimited entertainment to all of us. All these put together and at the thought of loosing the ecconomic freeedom i had for so long i am all worried.
I have no doubts in the fact that Gin is going to support me. But then, the last time i was financially dependent was on Appa, while i was a student. And at that time your needs are very basic. A few clothes a year, a sandal to go with all the clothes,notebooks and money for photostat copies of study materials(!!!!!!!), and the minimal telephone recharges& the yearly subscription to the local library would mostly cover the list. Once i had the job, i used to amass books, and at times electronic gadgets. And defenitely a floatter cant go with your salwar or a kholapuri with your formals, so mathcing shoes with your clothes.. Or to put it in a nut-shell, i could buy the things i had really an interest in without having to beg for amma's approval to debit money from Appa. In 3 years, i had kind of got used to it.. And seriously, i dont know how comfortable i will be to ask for money to Gin initially & i really hope that the familiarity would build up over the days.. I feel an arranged marriage which happened over a week's time is like a new sandal... You would love it at the sotre & would buy it off, but then on the first few days it will bite your leg & you will have blisters and boils which hurts. But ovet the time, you will get used to it. And the said-sandal will bear impressions of your toes and heels and you would be really comfortable in it and the familiarity of the straps and the loops on your feet would be like your second skin,that you would think twice before having to discard it..... Isn't it??

Back to the point, I have mixed emotions, the excitememnt of startting a new life at a new place with an almost new person, the grief of leaving the friends you made and strange enough, can you guess that i am gonna miss the chair i used to sit in office too... Doesn't that tell how much of a clingy person i am!!!!!!!!

Well, isnt that the way of life?? You kind of get established in a place and start liking it and you are uprooted immediately. And all the stuffs i have accumulated in the last 2 and a half years have to be packed and taken. Also as soon as i get home, i will have to start packing yet again for SA.
Sigh, packing has come to be the way of life these days
And yes, the count down starts too.....

Not Knowing my Dals Apart

Trust my brain to abandon me at the weirdest of the places… Sunday I was all motivated to cook. At SPAR, the new hyper market that is opened here, they have a counter where there are huge barrels filled with grains and pulses. We can weigh and buy even the smallest quantity we need from there. I am standing there to buy my dal for sambar and suddenly my short term memory loss is at its prime. For nuts, I can’t remember the name of the blessed-dal we use in sambar. I tried telling the guy who stands there what I need, but he too is clue-less as me, about the exact name of it.. Hah!!!!! Since this confusion is not getting me anywhere, I decided to look around for help.

So ignoring my ego, I ask the lady standing next to me the name of the dal we use in sambar. She stares me from tip to toe and sheepishly mumble.. “Toor Dal”. I gather the shattered ego and walks away with my 100gm of Toor dal.
I bet that woman will be either laughing with her family about a woman, not knowing or dals apart or better she will be blogging about the same.. DUH!!!!!!!!!

Back into Kitchen!!!!!!

Ahem.Ahem. There is earth-shattering, constellations-disturbing, awe-inspiring, thunder-struck news for all & sundry ....
Me, the very same Anna talking to you, started cooking after a long siesta of 6 months from the kitchen. Today as conveyed to Ans, I made Tomato rice with shredded chicken in it. To be speaking the truth, there was some chicken left from the curry we bought on Saturday and being the true granddaughter I am of my grand mother, I re-cycled the same into shredded chicken in the said tomato rice..
Well, now let me google for some recipies, while those who know me closely pick up their jaws from where they have fallen down & resume with thier work…
Ta-da!!!!!!!!!

Heights of Joblessness

The go-live for my project is tomorrow and we don’t have anything much to be done, on a life-or-death basis. So things are slow and we are bored…
I see that the CBSE 12th results are out and start typing in random numbers into the roll number filed on the website. Once the marks are displayed, I do a analysis on the guy/gal associated with that number.. I guess whether the person is a hard worker or not, whether the parents were the bullying type or the cool types, whether the student was happy with the marks or did he get too little or too much than expected, what is the future educational stream choices… And the likes…
After an hour of analyzing the personalities of around 20-30 kids, scattered around the country, I felt deeply relaxed, satisfied and an evening was well-spent….

Well, now go figure why our companies doesn’t give us full internet access…

And, this is about Dee

I was talking with Dee about how our life was at 704 and she reminded me of 2 incidents about her. well, Dee is a 3 year old in a 24 year old's body (don't kill me for this,love). She is still tied to her mummy's sari, to put it lightly.

So here it goes, love… For you !!!!!!!*Clinks the glass*
Once we all realized that we are putting on way too much weight. i.e Dee,Chikku and myself, Sai doesnt put on even half a kilo for the world. She can gobble up a tons of food and remain the same 34-kg weighing girl she is. So we decided to go on a wheat diet as per the Holy Google advised. But Dee for some reason didn’t want chapathi and wanted to make herself dosa. Mind it that, we all are quiet novel to the field of cooking and our experience in the said field is to the extent of walking into the kitchen for demanding food or to questioning amma what is making us sneeze when she sautéed chilly on the flame. So Dee was quiet unfamiliar with the ratio of water: atta for the dosa. As any self-respecting female, she went with the trial and error method!!! Come-on, we all are forever testing our software in the office and we know the best thing to do after googling for the solution, is trial and error… But as luck has it, the water added was way too much than what was required for a modest dosa. And her knowledge of the consistency of it is that, the batter should be in liquid form!!!!!!
Well, with a happy glee she decided to pour on the batter onto the tawa. In the mean while we had settled to have our chapathis. For sometime there was no other sound to be heard other than the sizziling sound of the batter being poured onto the hot tawa. Few minutes later, Dee enters the dining room tearfully. We were puzzled. And then she said the reason behind the tears. The batter was too watery that it was not standing on the tawa. The said dosa looked like a scrambled egg.. And Dee was crying thinking how useless she is, who can’t make a decent dosa.. we tried to reason with her & Chikku forced her to have some chapathi of ours, but then her verdict was that, a person who doesn’t know how to make dosa doesn’t deserve to have food!!!!!!!!

Another incident that stands bright in my memory about Dee is of rainy nights. Rosh used to go home on all weekends. So Dee sleeps alone in the room. One night, it was raining complete with thunder and lightning. The true mals we are, Chikku & myself are oblivious of this and was sound asleep. Suddenly Chikku senses a movement at the foot of her bed. She springs up and sees a figure sitting there. And the meek voice of Dee speaks..
“I am scared of sleeping alone in thunder & lightning. So can I please sit here at the foot of the bed till it is over”.
Chikku mumbles consent and goes back to sleep and me, is dead in the land of slumber….. And Dee remained there till the thunder storm passed & no, it was not a once in a life time incident. It faithfully lasted till the monsoon was over, whenever Dee was alone in her room 

*Bows and leaves the Stage*

P.S : A million dollar to whom ever will guess what the pic here means

The Stint at Mangie- #704, Golden Empire

It is now that I realize that the 2 years I spend in Mangalore is a unique phase of my life. Unique and lovely. And never again those sort of days are going to come back. Struggling to find a footing all alone, adjusting with people and the joys and maladies of it. It was a carefree life, though realizing that the sugar jar is empty after you have finished making the coffee at 12:00 in the midnight has it’s own frustrations..
#704, Golden Empire
This was the flat we hunted for as if there is no tomorrow. And 704 warmed us all, because of the many balconies and the furniture that came with the house & also because the owner promised to give us a washing machine!!!!!! Dee, Chikku , SaivaChettiyar (SAI) moved into this flat on the 2nd of July 2008. And to our great luck 3rd of July was a hartal in Mangalore which provided us with a day off!!!! SAI & myself did a funky paalukaachal too, and then analyzed the direction to which the milk boiled out, so that SAI’s mom can tell us how auspicious our stay there is going to be!!!! Yeah, a bunch of logical thinking engineers we are….

Life was good,even amidst the yaksha-ganas that used to be staged at the ground near our flat, for all occassions good and bad. Pardon me for my gross sense of enjoying arts. But for God's sake, i cant understand what is there to enjoy in an art form, which only consist of a costumed man, shrieking & shouting murder at high pitches in the highest decibel a human can attain. Many a nights we have spent on our favourite sofa with iPods plugged into out ears to escape the madness. There was no way,we could sleep with all the yelling going around.. But then we thourougly enjoted the lovely rasams that SAI used to make, the late night anthaakshari we had after a rain-dance at office, gossips exchanged,antics of Dee.. It was nice, except for the water seeping through the walls during the monsoons. And we were scared out of our wits when the main-switch almost fused out, coz the box housing it was flooded with water. IF not for Chikku who was sleeping on the sofa that day, we all would have been dead meat!!!!!! She smelt the wires getting burnt and promptly alerted the watch-man, who inturn cut off the power to our flat.

SAI moved out & Rosh joined us. A real angel and we all got to eat yum food when she came back from home after weekends. Mid-2009, my nephew who is 6 years elder to me also moved in and finally we had a chaperon.(Pssst.. Our floor had 3 flats, and the other two housed bachelor boys much to our amusement/astonishment & the nephew moved into one of them). We cooked, drove pigeons out of the washing machine, Scrubbed the floor- tile by tile, made midnight trips to the junction to get curd, Dee and Rosh practised mehendi designs on the lesser-crafty souls like Chikku&me, nursed many heartaches and finally had to leave the house for the love for our lives. The next monsoon saw us yapping at layers of plaster falling off from the wall,because of the rain soaking the walls..
And we decided that is it.. It is time for us to move out.. And it was time for Rosh to fly to her husband also.

And the search started in frenzy. We couldn’t find a place that would accommodate even Chikku & me together. And so I packed my things and moved to another hole (it was literally a hole)near the old flat itself.
I didn’t shift as a whole. Did take bits & pieces of luggage and used to dump them in the new flat on a daily basis. And then on the day I was moving in there, as Ans so imagined, I just swung the HUGE suitcase I own and went in there to stay for good..
Yes, as amma and ammachi had doubted about me adjusting with 3 tamilians, I had major difficultiy. I mean, with due respect to them(i have wonderful friends who are tamilians themselves), the cleanliness levels of theirs was in a totally different wavelength as mine. It calls for another post..

Cheers to 704 and to my roomies(Something I wrote as a farewell to #704)
I was quiet comfy with the place i was staying. A nice spacious, airy, sunny 2BHK. And the high light was the sofa in the drawing room. All of us loved curling up on it, either chatting on the phone, reading a book, or jabbering away into the wee hours of the morning. And the sofa was never left alone. One after the other, we used to perch on it, till we were all worn out and HAD to hit the bed.

Can you believe that a concrete roof can leak. Well, it did in our place and the walls were soaked with water. THis monsoon there was even a spot where water was oozing out of the wall.And here we are shifting to other places for our personal safety.

The bags are packed and ready to go, the utensils all stacked away to be whisked to the new dwellings.. THe flat looks so empty. The sofa looks empty without assortment of chargers, books and even clothes. The dining table lies bare of the jars of chutneys and pickles we bring from home, garnished with our mothers love. The counter at the kitchen looks clean with out the stray peel of onion or potato ,the aftermaths of our chapathi making trials and the sink has no vessels in it.

The bed rooms are no different. The mattresses are all rolled off and the wardrobe emptied.
Sigh, we are moving out today...

This was my first place outside home. And so it will always have a special place in my heart.
Anyway, Cheers to my roomies and to 704, for a new beginning..... yeah, and to the worn out sofa...

Touched a Raw Spot Somewhere

Came across an article in the office blogs..Sharing it here, with all credit given to the author.. Hmmmmmmm...

"and that reminds me of something i've been mulling over lately... "honour killings". what is it about "honour" and "the family name" and "values" and "morals" that drives people into killing their own children/siblings/nepwhews/nieces ? what is this family name or this value system that they are trying so hard to protect? what is so noble about marrying within one's own community, or only to the person of one's parents' choice, as to earn the chance to be spared at the hands of an "honour killer"? is the so called shame of having to endure taunts from neighbours and relatives so very unbearable, that it could drive a father or a mother to kill the very child they brought into this world?

i've heard people say, "your parents brought you up with a great deal of love and affection, so they would expect..." and yet we also hear the same people say, "a mother's love is unconditional". expectation is an exception to the unconditionality i guess...
strange is this world and strange are the ways of the people that inhabit it! and for all the strangeness, i do hope we don't lose genuinely nice people to maniacs who are out to protect their so called honour; god knows, we need nice people around. "

Me was happy when i realised .........

You realise that chivalry and gallantry, goodness of heart and generousity are not dead, when your male project mates reserve the front seat of the cab for you, in which you are the only female travelling, even though they will have to duck their tall lanky legs under the seat and sit uncomfortably for over an hour in the back seats.

Prashanth & Kunal.. This is dedicated to you!!!!!

Axiom-1

The loneliest ones are those, who are seemingly the most independent...