A close-miss!

A warm sunny Saturday afternoon, friends’, family, me, Ra and my little Aarny too on Times Square and a live car bomb … We all but the bomb got lucky on Time Square last Saturday, May 1st.

Yeah they detected a car bomb, which they are calling amateurish but still it was a planted planned bomb explosive and it did threatened me and a lot others for sure. Investigation is on its full swing and we will get to know more about it very soon, but it was close … yeah it was this close. I wonder … about myself … me my family my Aarny we could have been … lets not say it … umhu nope not at all … Mom says that Saraswati Bhagwaan sits on everybody’s tongue once in a day and so we are not supposed to say anything bad, who knows she might come and sit on my keyboard too, it’s a techno era after all these days.

But it was a close-miss. Thank God for protecting each and every one of us that day at Times Square and NY bomb squad, NYPD … God bless!

Apart from this, life s on a rock n roll … with Aarny, with job and with the “in-laws”. Aarny has become expressive these days, he plays hide n seek with Maa, yeah that’s me btw, waves bye bye to my brother when I make him sleep, that’s his Chanda Mama btw and cries when I go to office that’s from where I am writing this post btw.

I am reading John Banville, the Sea. Going really slow for two reasons, reason # 1, playing with Aarny on the bed is much more fun than delving in to the Sea, sorry John. And reason # 2, I have to go really slow, the language and the book is not that straight, I have to read it like really slow to understand it, John sorry again, but I need to complete few more pages to start appreciating it.

Cry baby cry !

Vidaai, if you are not from India let me explain, Vidaai is the post marriage ceremony when the bride's family and friends bid her a teary farewell, and I mean a really teary farewell.

I am from a family where girls cry it out so hard that they even faint … I am not sure if they plan it that way to get an excuse to fall on their newly wed hubbys’ arms or they actually plan to stay back some more at Mom’s but whatever it is I have seen girls fainting on this Vidaai ceremony. And being one ladalee badi beti from this family my relatives had a lot of expectations from my Vidaai, it was supposed to be one grand Vidaai where everybody was supposed to cry … guess everybody except me!

I and my tear ducts, we have some kind of differences, my tear ducts never ever open up when me or somebody else expects to see it opening, my tear duct follows its own secretive rules which nobody but God or my tear duct only knows. It is not controlled by my brains or my heart … I swear, that’s the only organ of my body which is so truly autonomous. People around me cry buckets and my tear ducts declares a draught, I have that kind of non submissive tear ducts.

During my Vidaai I just kept the veil very low so that people around me assumed that I am crying inside and they accompanied me in that difficult situation. Everybody said nice things to me and everybody consoled me saying that it’s gonna be the same or may be even better and I need not worry, I just listened to them quietly with a wicked grin inside and pretended to dry my already dried out eyes with the tissues that my sis gave me, I was actually about to shed a drop of tear when my Mom came in to the scene from somewhere saying no cries, you will drop off your lenses, I don’t know how she kept following my eyes even from inside my veil, but she was there right when required … Mom … awww Mom I miss you. Mom was crying too and seeing her and listening to her only advice of taking care of my lenses made me cry a little and laugh some more … my sisters … stupid real sisters were both giggling, so even they did not helped me in my “shed some tear project”. And the car started rolling … I prayed thank God, thanks for protecting me from this embarrassment.

I know all the girls out there are condemning me, but what can I do, I am just narrating you the things right from my heart, you can not hate me for not crying, but if you do already here’s one more reason to hate me more, me and my friend S would laugh uncontrollably on mourning ceremonies of our school assembly, I do not know what made us laugh but we did, it was nothing related to the mourning ceremony and we truly sympathized and ask for forgiveness for this evil deed, but we could not control our laughs, I confess.

So back to my Vidaai ceremony, it was almost ending, the car started rolling and I felt as if I am missing something, what I did not know, so in the state of some kind of confusion we reached almost up to the gate of our marriage hall, and there I saw Papa standing alone and waving me a good bye with a smile on his face, I couldn’t see his eyes but I knew they were wet, and this time I needed no tantrums, my tear ducts opened up generously … and I saw my sisters from the rear view mirror, I knew they too were crying, though hiding from each other but they both were crying, I knew and I cried more … I cried … I did … but my only complain is NOBODY SAW ME CRYING, EXCEPT RA, WHO WAS NOT AT ALL SUPPOSED TO SEE ME CRY!

So this is how it is, why I remembered this episode is because my in-laws would be leaving soon and even they would expect me to cry when they leave and my tear ducts would again ditch me I know … can I just take a print out of this post and give them to read while bidding them adieu … may be they would forgive their no heart bahu!

Taanki !

Sometime in Nov, 2006, day when the brand new driver of our brand new Toyota Corolla needed to refuel the car for the very first time. We both were absolutely new to the US roads and at the same time utterly panicky, somehow we managed to find a small, barely busy gas station, no actually not a gas station, it used to be a Patrol pump at that time for us.

We took the car inside, luckily an old Sardar jee was working there at that night, and we felt little comfortable seeing a desi face at the patrol pump.

We asked him to fill the tank, but he smiled back and said something which sounded like Taanki, we both did not understand and we smiled back saying what, he was now little irritated he said again “Sir Taanki”, and the clever couple understood him this time, but we did not understood why he is saying Taanki.

Ra murmured to me saying that Sardar ji’s patrol pump is probably empty and he is waiting for some Patrol tank to fill the gas station, we asked him ok when is the Taanki coming?

And this time he literally shouted on us in hindi “Sirji, patrol tanki doosari taraf hai, gaddi ghuma ke laiye”.

And this is how we got patrol in our car for the first time in this country, and this was the level of our intelligence when we arrived here … are we a level up now, Ra what do you think?

Bangaloe Bangalore !

Holi kab hai, kab hai holi? Anda banayi khayi aur aayi … paichaan kaun? Bhaktjano … bhavnaao ko samajho! Ratan Noora, Gajodhar Bhaiyya and our LG TV at Bangalore!

Bird watching at the Forum … aloo parathe at that Rajasthani bhaiyya’s corner side shop and those were our gushy mushy evenings at Bangalore!

Days of extravagant MNC’s and Nights of Sukh Sagar, China Pearl, Chandani Chowk and those were our good ol days at Bangalore!

Bangalore Bangalore … Oh I missed Bangalore and a lot more when I watched Raju Shrivastava last weekend!

Goals after becoming gol gol ...

its vanished … yeah the Goals … goals in double quotes (imagine me doing the double quote thingy sarcastically)… my once upon a time high aimed goals … career, personal … physical and all types goals have gone astray after I became a golu molu Mom !

All I aim for these days are to bring my lil Aarny on solid foods after his stage 2 food, to see him achieve the next milestone (which currently is to see him standing by his own) and I aim for my work to get over so that I can run … play some peekaboo with my lil Aarny ! I aim to pick right toys in affordable rates … and I aim for … you already got the idea didn’t you!

Actually one mishtake … I still have one individual goal glued to me tightly and I think it will be with me till eternity … that one is unloading the sack of my tummy. Wao how interesting!

So it was yesterday night, sleep time for us and for my lil monster, the most active play time, it was then when Ra standing in front of our Goals chart (that we made some decades ago), started asking me about my Goals and I would have shot him on his head … had I owned a gun that time … I was just this … this much close. But no worries I killed him with my words that night. He wouldn’t even dare to say the word Goal in front his gol gol wifey I swear!

So the above explanation goes for my exile from this blog post (as if I have got any other reader apart from myself duh), this was one of my Goals to write something at least once a week when I created this blog, and then eventually it became once a month and then it just became whenever you get some time start typing … so I want to go back to once a month stage, let s see if I can make it … and then in future if I can make it to the Bookers :).

Eloquences of a NRI daughter ...

Papa you know my colleague Denis got a brand new shimmering red BMW Series 3 equipped bountifully with ten speakers, ABS ... and I got a opportunity to relish the extraveganza of his ultra luxury car this afternoon on the streets of Manhattan, New York, lucky me! My lunch time was almost entirely devoured by overjoyed Denis and the endless descriptions of the never-ending features of his BMW Series three ... ohh how jealous I felt of that guy and his BeeeeEmmmDoubluee.

But as he went on and on, surprisingly this green-eyed monster within me went down and down ... down the memory lanes of our first car, our first "second hand" Green colored Maruti800, I do not remember the numbers of my own Corolla which I drive daily here but I do remember the numbers of our Maruti800 which you never allowed me to drive. I know I too will be driving some BMW series three four or whatever someday, but this complain of not being allowed to drive your Maruti800 will always be rooted deep in my heart. Such was the ecstasy of that Maruti800 unparalleled with Denis's ruby red opulence.

Smell of our Maruti800, still so fresh somewhere within me, no other car freshener can discover the same aroma of fragrance, I bet ya! The car had no air conditioner and we drove it in the temperatures above a hundred degrees in the blisteringly hot summers of India, it had no music system, no seat covers even, it was a bare car, which could offer the only luxury of travelling little more comfortably with all the five members of our family togather. And still it was the best car I ever rode ... I couldn't stop myself from telling this to Denis.

• We get saturdays and Sundays and almost a half of Friday but this all seems less fun than one single sunday of yours Papa.
• I have witnessed five farewell parties but none of them were as grand as one and only farewell party of yours.
• All my companies were fortune500 (a big deal that I will always be proud of) but I never could build the same repo and same relation as you had in your small Aluminium Plant.
• I get a fat pay stub but I never get those sweat smells from my shirts that you always had in all the seasons after your office hours, will my kids ever believe that I had a real hectic day at office?
• I am exposed to a much larger world than yours but still I have less number of real friends.

How uncool is that Papa?

Yeah it was a bare car Papa but the FOTM is it was the best one I ever had. Me and Deniss' and lot of others like us strive here and there back in India to afford these luxuries but we often forget that the best ones were the ones that we already left behind. Big things comes in small packages, how true is that. I came to New York with some of the very demanding career and personal goals, to grow a level up from what I was before, but these levels are never ending, I achieve one goal and from the next day itself I start starving for another one, this race has no finish point and this race has no winners.

And I still keep wondering that why simplest of the things gives biggest pleasures. And still why we run after the big and more biggger pleasures leaving behind the simple and the simplest ones.

History repeats ...

Papa is using internet since last couple of months and he repeated lot of customer care jokes, and I would like to pen down one here …

Me: Papa, open your yahoo messenger.
Papa: Where is it?
Me: well... it should be on the bottom right corner of your monitor.
Papa (after 5 minutes or so): No I can’t get it.
Me: okay let’s try to find it on your desktop.
Papa: I only have lots of fishes swimming on my desktop, I still can’t see yahoo messenger.
Me: fishes … (grrrr) you have a screen saver on. Papa, move your mouse a little and then try to find yahoo messenger on either bottom left corner or on your desktop …
Papa (gets his desktop hidden behind those cute fishes that my Mom likes so much): ok still I can’t see your yahoo messenger.
Me: ok Papa, what all you see in your bottom left corner ( I thought this will be faster than identifying all the icons on the desktop)
Papa (goes like this): 10:30AM, E, W … blah blah and finally one Yellow laughing face with white teethes.
Aru: ok gotchcha …that one yeah Papa that yellow laughing face, that is the one we morons call Yahoo Messanger.

That yellow laughing face… hold it tight …yeah scold that tight … as you used to scold us few decades back, during our homework sessions … Do you also hate my internet classes as much as I hated your spelling and math classes?