I once had lovely hair and then I shampooed

It always happens with me, that diva-like feel of freshly cut and blow dried hair only lasts till the next shampoo and later some (on really disastrous days most) of the locks refuse to stay put and start going haywire....its like a very disturbing version of flash mob cropping up in different parts of a city. Why o why? What is it with these keratin extensions that can make or break anyone's day??  

You see, I didn't care much about my hair initially. I used to see different hair styles on TV and think well they get paid to look that good. But after moving to this part of the world I saw those styles coming out of the TV sets and walking on streets, boarding a bus, doing grocery shopping....Rachel and Rapunzel were not fictional characters they were walking among us...no wait I, with my humble pony tail, was walking among them!

I remember watching one of those ruthless style check shows on TV once where this woman who supposedly knew all about the style (according to the producers of the show or was she the producer??) said that even if you are dressed in rags, if your hair looks like a million bucks you don't have to bother. That quote stayed in my mind and has come back to bite my behind when my scalp is witnessing its own version of Spring uprising.

Few years back when people would ask me did you just get a hair cut, I'd wear my "i-don't-care-much-about-my-hair" smile and reply "no i just shampooed", would do my secret victory dance and thank my genes! But that was then, now people's puzzled looks almost always get the reply "its the hormones! Having baby does that to you" (Ah the blessed hormones! From PMS ones to pregnancy ones, you can get away with almost everything by throwing them) This reply is brilliant!! Women who have had babies will empathize with you and women who haven't will sympathize. I have intentionally kept all the men out because they are incapable of noticing (keeping obviously S as reference) and if there are men who do notice I'll just pretend that I don't know them. 

But is it really about hormones?? A carefully tucked-away and conveniently ignored part of me says that it has something to do with the "nature vs nurture" debate. It tells me that my hair are not weeds, they need a lot of TLC which has been missing in their lives from quite sometime. All those people with lovely manes give a lot of time to their hair (and those who say that they don't, are lying). TIME, that ever-elusive rascal, will I ever get it?? Probably not so moral of the story is Time is not only money its lovely hair, make-up, ummm a good movie, nice read, looooong bath, window shopping....and the list goes on :)

Slumberama

"Sleeping is a waste of time!" The first time when I heard this from a friend my disbelief was almost like a knee-jerk reaction; how can someone say this, may be he is insomniac and doesn't know it poor thing!! 

But this was eon years back and I am a changed woman now; I totally believe this (and I am no insomniac for sure!!) This shift in my world view was lurking in the background when Aanya arrived but the tipping point reached when a certain modification occurred in my location. From living with an entourage to going solo; the two extremes of the spectrum comes with a set of similar reactions as well; let's just say that "sigh" is a double-meaning word for me now!


When I started working, I learnt the fact that no matter how "cool" or "relaxed" the job is, I will always have a "To-do" list. As my "bandwidth expanded" (corporate lingo hangover alert and I didn't want to write "as I grew older") the number of items started increasing. To my amazement and S's relief, a "to cook (read learn to)" section was added in the list and that was the start of its diversification. Over the years the list has had its period of highs and lows and gaps as well. But of late I am getting a feeling that the list is becoming more like an Excel worksheet (someone please tell me that I have quit my job  and am far away from Excel!!) You know that nagging feeling of having to call back a friend/relative/acquaintance but you don't really feel like? That's how each entry makes me feel; funnily enough this "list" is all in my head so you can imagine how crowded that space must have become. The more I sleep the more nagging the list will become so today's note to self (again in my head but in some other corner) "reduce your sleep time". 


That sorted, I start to wonder "how". I remember being bedazzled by this TV series called X-Files. (This was the time when I had discovered the word "forensic" and wanted to make a career in that field; had fallen in love with Scully's "business suits" and had the audacity to get one stitched and wear it in a cousin's weddings!! Those were the days :-)) Anyway coming back, one of the X-Files episodes showed how US had conducted experiments on its soldiers so that they don't feel sleepy, may be I should enrol into that programme and when  I come out triumphant I'll become the "the woman who doesn't sleep" or I may end up being an inspiration of another episode of a sci-fi series! Watch this space to know what happens...(calling Dana Scully and Fox Mulder)      

Babu...

Cleaning the study is a mammoth task in my house and a day to be noted because this the day when this item jumps out of S's looong to-do list and sees the light of the day! (You see no one is allowed to touch the study except for him!) Last weekend I was also involved (read forced to get involved) in the task and I must thank him for this! Reason? You'll have to read the post a little further...(I can sense you thinking that she is purposely doing this!)

So there we were categorizing every note, letter, statement and mundane document into not-so important, important, and very important. (we are talking 1 engineer plus MBA and one MBA here, what do you expect!) Sifting through the documents, I got to the stack of thin brown envelopes of registered posts with stamps from Varanasi PO and that characteristic handwriting...letters to me from babu. There aren't many...some are one pagers (mostly from Ma), some one-liners and there are a handful that stretched to more than 3 pages. But reading through those letters brought back so many memories! There were letters that talked about his academic achievements, letters that talked about his numerous trips, letters in which he advised me to save money either by quoting someone or using his signature terse sentences, letters in English in which he wrote the meaning of the words (that he thought I wouldn't understand) in parenthesis and letters in Hindi with his typical words like "kehne ka matlab yeh", "aanand raha"...I like his letters in Hindi more than the English ones...may be because Hindi made them more personal!

There is a constant flow of these letters through out the 2 years when I was studying...through them I re-visited the times when a cousin's wedding was being fixed, when Ma was attending seminars and conferences, when he was "helping" people to write their thesis, when Didi had come home with the kids, when his stories were being published...I could imagine him sitting at his desk, his fountain pen in his hand, one eyebrow slightly higher than the other and writing away effortlessly in that unbreakable concentration! That was one remarkable thing about Babu...his concentration...You would always find him working on tedious subjects, referring to the fattest dictionaries and frailest old books and writing pages and pages of translations in that unbearable heat of Banaras! (Anyone who has been to that part of the world knows that power-cuts are a part of life.) Distractions for him were very limited!

For me there will always be two versions of him; V1 was angry, scarily quiet and unapproachable and V2 was a friendly, chilled-out, music-buff who could give you advice on many things (sometimes advice on things that you wouldn't want to discuss with your dad :-)) The versions depended on which part of the day it was....evenings were mostly V2 and that's when I think he wrote these letters :-)

While I was reading those letters I was a naive, young woman in a big city and Babu's bachauaa (that's what he used to call me) once again! I was not a mom or a wife...it was just him and me! Now I know why he always preferred writing letters and not calling...I hope to write letters to Anna too so that she can also understand the worth and beauty of written words.

He taught me so many things...singing the beats and rhythms in a song, cursing with full passion, writing...here is one more to the list....the art of letter-writing!! Cheers to you Babu...I know you are up there somewhere sipping ur favourite scotch and discussing Manto, Begum Akhtar, Dickens, Bhimsen Joshi...the list is endless!!

Its a twitch, its a butterfly, its a KICK!!

When you are counting months in weeks, getting hungry within two hours and frowning/cursing/crying at the drop of a H (the entire word is not required at times), you know that these are special days...these are the days of many firsts!

To add to the list I stepped into the theater after 3 years this fateful Friday for the Oscar-winning story of a stammerer!! (Now, I'd like to think that it was the love for the movie that finally convinced S to take me to a movie but somehow that smart-a#$ voice in my head keeps telling me that it was my constant bickering!)

Anyway, voice or not, there we were, at E-square, for the 9 o'clock show of King's Speech. It was perfect, my stomach was full, my bladder was behaving (never thought I'd include this in perfect list ever!), we had good seats, the popcorn was fresh and there were no kids in the hall (I can explicitly write this till next few months after which I'll smartly refrain from mentioning this delicate area).

The movie opened with the cold, dreary and grey UK (oh how much I miss even that sometimes!) and Mr. Firth had me hooked with his royal stammer. The top hats, the accents, the foggy London mornings and the beautiful castles had me totally occupied when, all of a sudden, something twitched inside the tummy. OK, the movie was too important to notice the twitch.

I was at the scene where HRH was uttering profanities to release his stiffness, when I felt sort of a butterfly in my stomach. Now I do enjoy the delight of using cuss words every now and then, but surely it was not all that exciting!! So what was happening?? Was what I was thinking possible, isn't it too early? Was that really it? So many questions and the coronation is nearing! God life can be really demanding at times!!

May be it was the confusion or may be it was the desire to watch the movie without losing focus, I decided to keep quiet till the movie ended. After replaying the movement for nth time and consulting 'What to Expect' I have come to a conclusion that it, indeed, was a kick :-) However, the more important thing to ponder over is that it happened while the King was cursing :-)

My first few lines for you my sugar...

Oh li'l one what were you thinking?
Was it the movie or the F word
That you found so thrilling?

In Search of Dali...

"Total Solution" is something that I don't really give much heed to (I am blaming it on 2 years of MBA n that too in "Marketing"!!) But it turns out it does exist!!

You see I was following a show on BBC Four about modern masters of 21st century and how their work has shaped the world. It showcased 4 artists; Dali, Andy Warhol, Piccasso and Henri Matisse (I must admit that I didn't know about him before watching this show). The presenter of the series, Alastair Sooke, is an art critic and writes for the Telegraph. The 4-part series was beautifully presented and structured; it has now become the epitome of "Total Solution" for me. There was the TV series (of course!), the website (not a big deal!), an exhibition in Victoria and Albert Museum showcasing the work of these artists (are you impressed yet?), virtual exhibitions on the website (I can sense that you are with me now) and the ART WALK (the best part!). The cherry on top of this "art cake" was Mr. Sooke's presentation style. He was unbelievably simple, very very unpretentious and genuinely interested in telling the viewers about the work of the artists. Although, I do believe that he dumbed down the show but I think it worked (because I wouldn't be writing about art otherwise!). Besides the TV series, the ART WALK was something that impressed me. It is a free walking guide that takes you through the museums/monuments/buildings that are related to the works of these four artistes.

I found this entire packaging brilliant, the TV series introduced me to the artists, their life and their work, the website with its virtual tour teased me further and the ART WALK pulled me to actually see the work first hand!!

So one unusually bright Monday morning I set out on one of these ART WALKS. The start point was Tate Modern on Bankside and the end point was Westminster Bridge. With a packed lunch, a bottle of water and a print out of the route (I still work with paper, am too scared to rely on downloadable maps and mp3 files...yes the WALK was available on mobile too) I headed towards St. Paul's. I swear I was the most cheerful person standing in the Tube compartment packed with suits on their way to work on Monday morning!

The entry into Tate Modern is so dramatic. A much televised Millenium Bridge connects it with St. Paul's. The view of the iconic cathedral from the Bridge is grand. But standing on the bridge and trying to capture the perfect shot (with instructions from S playing in my mind) a message took me by surprise. I'll let the photo do the talking :-)

Talk about an interesting start to the ART WALK!

Once inside Tate, the first thing that struck me was the crowd. Agreed it has free entry and showcases some interesting work but it was Monday morning!! I was so very pleasantly surprised and began my journey on Level 5. Before coming to London "fun" and "museums" were two very distinct concepts for me and I never mixed them together but the museum design in Tate (or Natural History or Science Museum for that matter) challenged my beliefs and I have happily surrendered. At each level there is a panel that is a time line of all the artists in that particular period. It is interspersed with screens that play short audio/video clips. Here is a sample:

Below this panel there are interactive games related to art. The striking thing is how engaging and fun these games are. You don't have to be a snobbish art-enthusiast to be able to play them! I enjoyed them if that is any kind of testimony of their simplicity :-)

A clear cross over camera dampened my spirit a bit but I entered the "State of Flux" section on Level 5 where "Whaam!" greeted me with its bright colours and clear connection with the popular comic strips and needless to say I was hooked! A flash light on "Girl in a Chemise" took me by surprise and I suddenly realised that people were happily taking pictures and the staff was not minding! Thus began a tiring session of composing and clicking while marvelling the beauty (and yes I had started to see beauty in oddest of objects!).

Andy Warhol's room was very entertaining. The entire room had a wallpaper made of a cow's head with the signature panels of same picture in different hues. Sadly for me "Marilyn" was in conservation but I did see one of his self-portraits:

(You can see the weird wall paper in the background)

When we are talking about weird how can I not mention Dali. There weren't many paintings/sculptures in Tate but the few that I saw were enough to give me a taste of his weird and wonderful world.

(Metamorphosis of Narcissus)

I was floating through the famous works of so many artists but I knew what I was looking for and there it was down at level 3…hanging proud and bright. It was “The Snail” a beautifully simple piece of work from Matisse. I hadn't heard of Matisse before watching this series but for some odd reasons I have developed a real appreciation for his work. I think its his simplicity and no-frills approach.

(The Snail)

I stepped out of Tate and continued with my walk. After "The Snail" the next thing I was looking forward to was the sculptures by Dali near Westminster bridge. I walked, stopped for lunch, stood for some of the performances on the Las Ramblas of London, looked at the map and walked again but still there was no sign of Dali. It was like the elusive artist was playing a game with me. A very long walk and painful feet (will I ever get a comfortable pair of footwear?) later a helpful ticket seller at the London Eye told me that Dali's sculptures were moved from there few weeks ago. Was I disappointed you ask? Not really, I was full with the scenes and views of the day and am happy to continue this search...

To Martin...

Have you noticed how in dreams we keep running towards a place and never reach it? That's how my sprint towards the Victoria Coach Station was turning out on Sat morning. When I finally managed to reach the coach stop I found a group of fellow travellers struggling to find the correct English word for'khakhra' and a very grumpy big guy with suspicious eyes...it took me sometime to realise that the coach company had a clear policy for 'hot foods' and we Indians were the usual suspects!!

Anyway everyone was on board and settling in when all of a sudden the very grumpy big guy growled and announced how he could smell something really 'pungent and hot' in the first 5 rows of the coach!! Everyone in those fateful rows froze and I bet they were wondering if a pack of harmless Doritos/Walkers/Muffins is pungent enough to disturb the very grumpy big guy who we found out, to our dismay, will be our driver for the next 2-hour drive!!

After all the finger pointing and accusations the grumpy guy switched on his speaker phone to announce the safety requirements. The travellers in the first five rows were still reeling from the shock of the events that had unfolded when all of us were hit by yet another growling from him. This time it was a couple who was not paying attention to his announcements...he got up from his driver's seat and screamed at them...the accused played innocent and closed his eyes but our driver was not the man who would let such things go by so easily. Once again he pointed a finger and screamed!! I swear I could hear eyeryone's heart beating faster at that moment...when he had yelled to his content he got back to his seat and told us his name...MARTIN...and immediately apologised for his behaviour. What followed was a well-rehearsed speech of safety details and one more 'very sincere' apology. The tension was palpable in the coach when I heard someone saying 'Lagta hai beewi se jhagad ke aaya hai...nahin yaar! saale ki biwi hogi hi nahin' and all was well again :-) No Martin or hot food policy was significant enough to ruin everyone's plan!

A 2-hour drive later we reached Portsmouth where the 'much dreaded' light rain welcomed us. I thanked Martin and finally saw him smile and he actually looked cute. By the time we boarded the hovercraft and reached our destination, Isle of Wight, the 'light rain' had turned into a 'not-so-light' rain and everything was a shade of grey. I looked at S and he, mustering all his positivity, assured me that BBC says that next day has sunny intervals. That's the peculiar thing about weather forecast here, it can make or break your day...things are so much simpler back home...you just go out without even once thinking about weather!

Our walk upto the hotel was also no less than dramatic! Remember Miss Binoche and her daughter walking in the French village in 'Chocolat'...it was just like that with lots of rain, a very very wet map and an inside-out umbrella that flew from my hand more than once! The entire scene was so comical that I was laughing out loud but my cool-as-cucumber husband was not amused at all! Well, let's just say that the expletives were not as bad as the ones that come out when those 11 men play badly!

After a very wet walk, we reached our hotel and from then on everything turned out as planned (to our relief)! The weather was not bad at all, sure it was cold but its kind of pointless complaining about that in this part of the world!! The quaint little town had eateries and bars with names like Fat Harry's and Sailor Joe and the quitessential part of all sea-side towns, the pier. I always find it amusing how every bar and restaurant in the beach towns have notices such reading 'Shirts/Tops must be worn at all times in the bar' :-)

I love the postcard stands that piers usually have where you can place your head through the wooden cut outs and pose as mermaid or sailor. This town too had these but there were no mermaids or sailors here...there were outrageous forms of female anatomy that were hilarious!

Next day started with a sumptuous breakfast. The sun was out and more importantly (for all the Indian men) the clothes were off! Didn't I tell you weather can make or break your day here :-) In the town centre there was a local 'haat' selling everything possible under the sun! I was totally engrossed in shopping when an English man dressed in Victorian regalia announced 'Here Ye Here Ye'. Wait a minute! Is that a 'town crier'...do they still exist?? I found out that in this town they do :-) I couldn' ask for anything more!! It was time to bid farewell to this town and explore the rest of island.

We made the most of island's extensive bus network and roamed around whereever we felt like! Sometimes having 'no plan'is the best plan! The sights and sounds of this beautiful island were exhilirating...from pretty tea houses to much hyped'Needles Park' and from vast expanse of greens to sandy and pebbled beaches...there were picture post card visuals, stuff that memorable holidays are made of!

A good friend of mine had told me once that places that are near water can connect with you in a special way! Sitting at the beach and looking at the waves I understood what she meant...the background noises, people posing, kids playing everything becomes a hardly noticable blur when you are staring at those magnificent play of blue and white! Well, I guess all I can say to that beautiful isalnd is

I've still got sand in my shoes

And I can't shake the thought of you!!

Here is hoping for more such holidays and wishing to meet more interesting characters like Martin :-)