The Other Side of Life

If I had to describe the year 2016 in one word, I would choose "Meh". That's exactly how it was. Work, which occupies a majority of my awake life, was meh. Sure, we did some exciting stuff, but nothing the way I would have wanted. When I don't use my brains and start agreeing with others' plans, I become meh. As always, there was a lot of travel for work, which was also meh because it was mostly Mumbai or rural Karnataka, both of which I have had more than enough of.  The one thing I always look forward to is meeting more people and learning more from them. That didn't happen much this year. So, another point to Meh. I should have done something to change things, but that did not occur to me till the end of the year. By the time it occurred to me, looking back at the year that was became agonizingly painful. Meh. Meh and meh. On the personal front, Sherlock made some changes to his work, which was good. But we asked ourselves a lot of...

There are some benefits to being a Government Officer's daughter, growing up in Delhi. For instance, the fact that for us 26th January is never just another holiday to wake up late. Its the one day when we are in the middle of the action. Oh, the excitement of Republic Day! Waking up early to catch the Prime Minister's tribute at Rajghat. Watching the beautiful black cavalcade move gracefully on my beloved Rajpath through the foggy, cold wintry haze.  The commentator's invariable comment on the weather. "Aaj mausam ne bhi Bharat ko salaam kiya hai. Dekhiye kaise baadalo ke peeche se suraj dikh rahe hai." And the camera pans across the impatient audience. One swift glance of sweaters and woolens of all colors. The camera's standard zoom in, on the kids section and the commentator's - "Dekhiye bacchon ka utsah. Isi drishya ke liye yeh Gantantra Diwas humare liye itna mahatvapoorna hai." Then the sound of hooves as the President arri...

I have probably never written anything serious on my blog (I just checked the archives. Never). But I had to write this today, to remove that lump in my throat, that just refuses to go ever since my Diwali vacation in Delhi. I stopped participating in debates about cities. Everyone loves the city they grew up in, because that city moulded you into what you are. And so when someone says something about Delhi, I just swallow my pride and ignore, despite the urge to retort about infrastructure (That's what most of Delhites do. Mumbai Local - Delhi Infrastructure. Bangalore weather - Delhi infrastructure. Hyderabad cost of living - Delhi infrastructure) But you know what, I love Delhi. I really do, with all my heart. And now that my parents will move out of Delhi in a few months, it means severing ties with the only city I know as home. This Diwali I spent most of my time in Delhi like a zombie, melting away into nostalgia at every nook and cranny of the city. Nehru Park ...

That was one of the oldest memories of Independence Day. Homework on 14th August always included either an essay on Independence Day or "Nibandh Lekhan: Gantantra Diwas". Needless to say, it was still a special day. Living in Delhi, being a Government Officers daughter, studying in a school run on the principles of the man who proudly translated the National Song into "Mother I bow to thee" - how could we not love this day? I don't remember a single year in the past 20 years (counting since I remember), when I did not wake up at 6 in the morning to watch the Prime Minister's speech, scan the audience to locate my Dad, scribble words from the chaste Hindi commentary to use them in my essay later and stand up in respect of the flag and the anthem. I have vivid memories of the Independence Day of 1997 - the 50th year of celebration. I trudged along with my father to the Red Fort, with dreams of this day being very different from the ones I had witness...

Remember this lady? The Weather lady on Doordarshan? She and I share a special bond. For the longest time, in my devious mind, weather and temperatures were the only measures of comparison between cities. And when I talk cities, I obviously always mean Delhi Versus the hometown, Hyderabad. The rules in my teeny-tine 6 year old brain were very clear. Rule 1: In summer, check the Maximum temperature. It has to be high. Rule 2: In winter, check the Minimum temperature. It has to be low. So like a small little chameleon, I would hang around the TV at 08:20 pm and wait for this beautiful lady to make an appearance and show the magic numbers. In summers, she would pronounce Delhi to be hot at 44 degrees. And then the map would gradually pan South and she would gracefully point to Hyderabad and say 34 degrees. In my head, Delhi won! We had the higher number and so we won! No matter that we would be under a heat reel with loos blowing and not a bit of relief. No matter that...

Delhi is always in the news for all the wrong reasons. Women safety (or the lack of it!),  VIP Traffic, CWG fiasco. Hell, they made a swanky new awe-inspiring airport, and even that successfully crossed over to the negative side thanks to it's extra long corridors. Seriously? Corridors? That's your problem now? Come on. Be nice?  I think what the country needs is a dose of some very good Delhi-isms. Things that would make you fall in love with the city! So here's my compilation of must-do things in Saddi Dilli: Picture Courtesy - The Hindu Culture Curry! - You have missed a lot if you have not delved into Delhi's culture potpourri. For starters, The "Music in the Park" series. This concert by Spic Macay invites some Maestros of music to perform in the splendid Nehru Park, and here's where you'll find the best of Delhites. You can spend an evening of delight in the pleasant months of February and March, sprawled on carpets on the grass, listening ...

PS: Thanks to a template change, I lost 45 comments on this post. Fear not. I have those comments somewhere on IntenseDebate.com. Will figure out a way to get them back! :) <<Rant Alert>> I know, I know. My last post was just two days back and it is uncharacteristic of me to post so soon. But like I mentioned above, this is a rant. So, I be excused. It is not fair that I have a bad day *just* because I woke up 10 minutes 45 minutes too late in the morning. It is not fair when I need to be convince my poor little body clock that at 12 degrees maximum and 3 degrees minimum, it still does not get that few extra minutes in the razai. It is not fair that after a mad rush and a fight for the geyser with the maid, I still miss my office bus by 5 minutes. It is not fair that the Auto I take charges me 20 bucks extra because there is no change and well, it is too cold to argue. It is not fair that thanks to frozen hands, I could not feel the vibrator of my phone when a sweet col...

Remember the early days of summer when I had written a whole post on why I love summers ? We felt a sudden nip in the air yesterday and in a display of uncharacteristic maturity and balance, I decided to share with you why I am looking forward to winter too . The reason being, every season brings with it some schmaltz and it is only fair, that we enjoy all of them!  So, here's to some nice, chilling winters? Where we can look forward to: Winter-wear, here we come! Yoohoo! I just love winter-wear. Long-coats, sweaters, mufflers, sweatshirts. All of it. When we were in school, the excitement was a different level altogether. The morning assembly would distinctly smell of the crispy, white new shirts and grey woolen wear. There was also the comforting odour of naphthalene from the blue blazers and sweaters. Sigh. I miss school. Cuddling in the Razai in the sun, on weekend afternoons to read books or watch Greys? Priceless. Add to that a hot water bottle, lodged between the two fee...

*Warning: Another CWG post! Leave, if you are bored already!* Are you watching the Games? Please tell me you are! I am absolutely having a blast here! And this post, is of course about some of my thoughts on the Games.. **** The tickets were so totally worth! I had SO much fun on Saturday at the Tennis finals. My hands are still hurting from all the cheering and clapping we did for Sania Mirza! Too bad she didn't win, but to her credit, she actually played well! Till the last ball. With the crowd cheering her for every shot, there was little else she could do, but hey, she didn't disappoint us. The audience was fantastic, to say the least! My Dad kept pointing out how silent the Wimbledon audience are and how noisy we are, but in our defence, if we don't get to be noisy in Saddi Dilli, where else do we get to? Hmm? Bolo?  The poor Aussie counterpart had a rough time, complaining to the referee about the booing crowds, especially when the collective sound of "Once Mo...

Did I mention that one of the Search words leading to my Blog is "Commonwealth Games"? I guess that goes for the number of times I have written about them here! ;) And since the damage has already been done, and I have been tainted as a CWG Blogger, I guess another post won't do much harm! Last one. I promise. *My Fingers are crossed. La la!* So, I gather you have seen all the media reports? Are you absolutely aghast at the sad state Delhi is in? Are you wondering how us poor Delhites are putting up with this mess? Are you wondering if the Games are going to let us down and embarrass us in ways we can't imagine? Are you wondering why Abhishek Bachchan's Idea ad is SO stupid? This is where you will get the answers to all your questions (Except the last one. Beats me too.), ankhon dekhi khabar, infused with oodles of optimism! That's right! After months of contrived hysteria and exaggeration from the media, I have realized the only way out of this mess is throu...

I am SO tired, it's not funny. I could have avoided writing anything at all today, but I can assure you if that happened, the blog's existence would be a serious concern, considering I haven't written in SO long. So, despite being tired enough to happily sleep with those dogs on the beds at the CWG Village, I am going to attempt to write! Cheers to that!  Before I go any further, please do a Chandler Bing style "Param Pam Bishh" for the dear blog! We just turned 50 posts old. The baby's growing up. Sniff. This is the worst possible way to usher in a moment like that, but this Blogger's block I tell you, is a desperate witch. Anyhoo. This is the point where I actually start the post. But considering I don't have much to say, imagine an awkward silence here. There is a lot of discussion on the CWG. I could add on to that hullabaloo, considering I am bang in the midst of all that, but I won't. Because there are other things that caught my attention...

I am so disgusted and angry even as I am writing this, I know for a fact I will regret this post. But if I don't write this, I'll just start crying, which will look very odd in office. So.  I have never said this, in the 22 years of my life. I am saying this now. Do not come to Delhi. For the Commonwealth Games. Or ever. Coming from a die-hard Delhite, this is a huge deal. I feel stone-hearted saying this, but don't come to Delhi unless: Unless you want to look at infrastructure like subways and think to yourself how awesome they are, then go inside only to find them flooded with sewage water. And cross through that very sewage water to make it to the other side of the road, because the only other option you have is jumping over the very high divider on the main road, put up so as to dissuade pedestrians from using the main road to cross , instead of the superbly awesome sewage water filled subway. Of course, followed by reaching office, washing your legs thrice and still f...