Egg'd on by curiousity!

Thanks a lot, folks, for all ur comments. Golly, your comment really made my day! And that made me decide to share a nice little story!

I have no doubt now that Aditi is going to be a scientist. Her curiousity is mind-boggling!

On Sunday after a trip to the market, we were feeling rather peckish, and decided to put things away after we ate. But after brunch Arun and I wanted to take a break before getting down to cleaning and putting things away. So we decided to watch something on the idiot-box for bit.

It was a nice way to spend a sunday morning. Then alarm bells rang. Why? Because I couldn't hear a thing! I couldn't see or hear Aditi, which is not a good thing at all. I asked Arun to take a look. He just walked a few paces and beckoned to me to come quickly and quietly.

There was Aditi sitting behind the sofa. She had taken some bags out of the shopping cart, and (trust her!) got to the one where the eggs were. There she was with a puddle of broken eggs around her. And before we could react, she took one egg in each hand, and banged them together... SPLAT! and had this really surprised look on her face that they broke and made a icky gooey mess all around. I choked back a laugh, so did Arun. Before we could say a thing, she just handed the broken shells in her hand to Arun, gave a brilliant smile, and said, "Thank You"

And the whole picture was so funny we didn't have the heart to scold her....

Schooling my rants

Today, the irresponsibility of my parenting style was pointed out to me in no uncertain terms!

Aditi will be five in three years! And I haven't enrolled her in the waiting list for admission in a single 'international' school! Apparently I should have done it a year ago! The Aussie school closed their waiting list for 2008. The Canadian one has not. Perhaps if I know a parent who sends their kids to the American school, I might get a place on the waiting list. And why isn't she enrolled in a gifted program? Why doesn't she go to playschool?

Whoa.. wait. Cease and Desist!

Wow... She's not two, not quite potty trained, and I have to worry about something that's going to happen three years from now? I still haven't decided what playschool she will go to when she turns 2.

I found today's observations scary. What are we pushing kids to? Come on, gifted programs at 2? It's nice to think my child might be gifted, but pressure to perform when she's not quite two? This is going to be a rant that's been bugging me a while. So if you don't care, don't read on.

All I remember of school days is coming back home from school, glugging down Bournvita at record speeds, and running out of the house to play with the other kids who lived in the street. Playtime of course was seasonal. When the streetlights came on, it was time to go home, finish homework, eat dinner, watch TV and then crash. The only time this routine varied was during exams, but then too I remember getting at least a small slot to get some fresh air and sunshine.

Today I found out that there are 60 families with kids that go to primary school in this apartment complex. 60 out of 150. Not bad? Well, read on. Guess how many of them I see in the swimming pool or playground? All of 4! The only others in the playground every evening are under 5 years old. Isn't this ridiculous?

I asked one parent who let her child out to play today as a 'treat' for doing well in tests why I didn't see him more often. The answer was simple. There are other priorities. What priorities?? He's only 7. It's so unnatural to see a 7 year old sit by his mother while other kids are running around like their tails are on fire.

I would anyday prefer to watch my little one run around the playground than sit so quietly in one corner. I want her to have fun at school. Not worry about whether her 2nd standard grades will get her a scholarship to Harvard or not. I want her to associate sunny days with a happy splashing time in the pool, not training for the school squad (which again might get her a scholarship to Harvard or not). Maybe these are just pipe dreams for now. But I am most certainly NOT going to waitlist her in schools right away and unconsciously pressure her to prepare for a spot there.

Right now I need to decide on a good playschool. Should I pick the one where the teacher welcomed her with open arms and a smile as big as her heart, or the one with more outdoor play area?? Definitely not the one where the older kids looked smarter and the younger ones cried themselves to sleep!

Maybe my priorities are wrong, but I want her to be happy.

Swan lake??

Here I sit on my gluteus maximus after another round of kickboxing. I can't see any difference after a month without skipping a single session. I still can't fit into THE orange dress (it's still yours for now, Tina) and I can't even look at my jeans. This time I refuse to take the easy way out and buy a new pair. I have broken in this pair well and will wear it again!

Today's session was weird. For some reason the instructor changed the music we normally move out posteriors to. Instead of the usual Boom Boom cacophony she played Swan Lake! I have nothing against Tchaikovsky's magnum opus, but this was crazy. The studio where our sessions are held has walls lined with mirrors. And jumping to the notes of Swan Lake, what I saw was scary! I saw what looked like a Hippo cavorting among the cygnets.

After I complete this course I am definitely signing up for another. But I am going to inquire more closely into a few things. No reflecting surfaces where we practice please! Some things give me nightmares. I want to enroll for a course where the other participants are as... er... prosperous looking as me, or more! It can give a person such a complex in a setup where the others look like Ms Ethiopia!

Perhaps I'll sign for aquarobics. Something done neck deep in water. That way I'll feel better about myself.

Testing Flickr

Testing Flickr
Originally uploaded by vidyanagaraj.

Just testing, folks. Trying to figure out the funda of www.Flickr.com.. If this works the way I think it whould, then I can post pics directly by mailing it to some totally cryptic address with a photo attachment, and you can all see it directly on my blog. This is a test post. So feel free to leave comments. If this works, posting pics is going to be an absolutebreeze!

Changes

I realize that it's been annoying to those who check my blog regularly, (all 2 of you) with all the template changes. This one may look a little bare and un-colourful, but hey, I like it and I am sticking to it. Till I figure out some way to jazz it up, it stays this way. So there.

I've been messing around with the blogger template, to get it to look like something I can live with. I think I messed with pixels when I shouldn't have. If it looks funny on your screen, or if the sidebar isn't where it's supposed to be, please let me know.

Aditi's pics

Finally I got around to posting pics, and I realize how much I have begun to detest Windows! It's like a millstone around my neck. I used the &^%$# OS after 4 months. Yes, folks, 4 months! And life is easier with Linux. I believe in Penguin power! There is no other kind. Of course this means Arun needs to figure out how to upload pics using Linux.

Any suggestions on how I can reduce display size of these pics?

And Aditi's self portrait is now posted here.


Aditi-the-cool: Can anyone see me in here?



Linux baby... May the "Penguin Power" be with you!



Getting her feet wet at the East Coast Park



Rocking With Teddy



At the Animal Resort. Ishaan, Varad, Aditi and (another) Ishaan!



Too big for my boots



Handsome and Cutie

Writing woes

No, this is not about writer's block. It's about how writing is absolutely the pits these days. Handwriting, I mean.

I wrote a letter, after a very long time, last week. And after I finished, and looked at the paper, I was appalled! Was that MY handwriting? It never looked so awful! It should not have been surprising, considering that the only 'writing' I ever do these days is to sign cheques , credit card receipts and other miscellaneous signatures !

I haven't 'written' a single letter since I opened my first email account a decade or so ago. And since then the fine art of letter writing went into a decline. With email, somehow, communication follows simple rules:

1. Send annoying forwards. That way people know you are (probably) alive and kicking because there is activity on your email account.
2. One-liners. Short updates on what's happening in one's life. Not as traumatic as a telegram.
3. Long letters in mass mails addressed to the world at large. An infrequent impersonal update on our lives.

Are there more? Do let me know.

In the good old days, when I wrote, it was to one person at a time, and each time it was written from the heart. Since I was spending the minimum on postage anyway, it would be pages and pages long. With all kinds of news, gossip and tidbits whether relevant or not. There was something so exciting about seeing a letter addressed to me, the anticipation, the actual perusal, and there was something so wonderful about just slipping it into a desk, or a handbag, and reading it again and again, whenever I wanted to, wherever I felt like it.

I loved buying stationery. There were special pens kept aside for writing letters. Reynolds was only for jotting down notes and doodling in class. A nice fountain pen was de rigeur for letters. Wacky letterpads added to the crazy letters to friends; floral, handmade or marbled paper to write to my grandmother and for those occasions where a wacky one wouldn't work; inland sheets for those urgent replies with writing crammed onto every single available square millimeters; spending an enjoyable hour at the friendly-neighbourhood-Archie's-gallery for birthday cards, good Luck cards, get well cards, New Year cards and cards for whatnot, each of which would be crammed with a quick letter on the inside so it could still go by book post.... What happened to those good old days?

I remember how Paati, my grandmother, would tell me to write to her. So what if I spoke to her frequently over the phone. She told me how she would take out a letter, read it, and re-read it as and when she wanted to. It was a nice way to spend a quiet afternoon composing a reply. Taking time to finish it. Add pages and pages to it till it barely went into the envelope. I miss that.

The foundations of my best friendships have been cemented with letters. I still have all of them filed away. Last time I was home, I spent a quiet afternoon reading through old letters and cards. And I cried. No ever writes to me that way anymore.

Email was supposed to make communication faster and easier, but has not necessarily made it better. With the best of intentions, even a birthday wish to a friend is conveyed with the barest minimum of words and an excess of flash animation. The personal touch is missing. There is no fun in reading an old email, the way there is in reading an old letter.

I am going to write a letter this week. So if you get an email from me asking for your address, do reply at once, and wait for the post man to ring..... (twice??)

Perhaps there'll be something in my postbox too that isn't a bill or addressed to occupant. And I won't make any cracks about sucky handwriting if you won't.

Father's day out

Today I convinced Aditi that it was the done thing to take her father out someplace nice to lunch, so that he doesn't have to spend a nice Sunday afternoon helping with the dishes. Also because it was father's day! We decided to help Arun pick a new blazer too while we were at it.

We went to Rang Mahal, a nice restaurant, but I don't think I am going back there in a hurry. I draw the line at having nice desi food served a la Sushi! Think of it, 2 pieces of papdi chaat served in one big fancy plate! I guess it's supposed to be visually aesthetic and all that jazz but it looks like the last canape on a large tray! I seriously think Indian food was never meant to be pretentious in presentation.

We heard some percussion music in a mall and followed the beats. We caught the tail end of Tavlin Singh's performance with 2 other Aussies in a percussion ensemble.

A nice 'father's day' out for Arun, I'd say. Maybe Aditi should be convinced to take him out to dinner too. It's his day after all!

Miscellaneous jottings

For once I must agree with Axe when he cribs about people leaving anonymous comments on blogs. People, just leave a name. Forget trivial details like email or link to you blogs or homepages or whatever. I'd like to know who my replies are being addressed to.

Dear Anonymous, (see how daft that sounds)
I did not see Kingdom of Heaven. For the very simple reason that Arun and I got slightly fed up of watching Orlando Bloom playing the role of a medieval swordsman/archer. You know what I mean. Think about his major roles to date- Legolas in The Lord of the Rings Trilogy, Will Turner in Pirates of the Caribbean, Paris in Troy. If he carries on in this vein any longer, he might end up going to his shoots on his trusty steed (literally!) wearing a sword and armor! So whoever saw Kingdom of Heaven feel free to leave a review for Anonymous.

Aaaagh.. that felt like talking to an answering machine!

PJ for the Day..
(I am really sorry, but I just could not resist doing this)
Star Wars 3 more or less focused on the marriage of Anakin Skywalker and Padme Amidala, right?
Should it have been named Mr and Mrs SITH??

And with that I wait for comments!

Batman begins....

I sat through the movie with Aditi fast asleep on my lap, which is why I couldn't get up and shout out in protest. For the price of a ticket, I at least wanted to see Batman.... but all I saw was an el cheapo imposter dressed in body fitting kevlar and latex who didn't do justice to the costume the way Val Kilmer did in Batman Forever.

See, the thing is, I saw batman in my college days (an entire decade ago) and Val Kilmer looked so HOT in that costume. His lips were soooo sexy! Since then, no Batman fit the costume! No other Batman has had sexy lips like Val Kilmer's.

The movie was general timepass. Some of the action scenes were shot with a very shaky hand holding a very shaky camera. Reminded me a bit of the action scenes from The Bourne Supremacy. It was rather annoying after a bit.

And Christian bale does not bring to the role the charisma that Val Kilmer and Michael Keaton did. Even George Clooney was a better Batman than Bale. I kinda thought he was plastic. The Significant Other, however, was too busy admiring the Oscar worthy talents of Katie Holmes to make an intelligent coherent remark on Batman.

Liam Neeson was brilliant as Ducad/Ra's Al Ghul (oops, slight spoiler happened there). But again he seemed a little too immured in his role as Qui-Gon Jinn from SW1- The Phantom Menace. When you get around watching the movie, pay a little attention the swordfighting scene on the frozen lake. Has the look and feel of a lightsaber duel. And their costumes are kinda reminiscent of the Star Wars Jedi garb. I almost expected Neeson to say, 'feel the Force around you, young Bruce', or something like that!

Of course, I should mention that the movie does get around to explaining why Mr. Bruce Wayne decided to become BATman as opposed to CATman, DOGman or PACman. Generally entertaining and a good movie to kill time. But Christian Bale is NOT Batman!

Off with her head...

No, no. Nothing gruesome here. Well, slightly gruesome, but depends on your point of view.

Aditi got a Barbie kind of doll as a gift a few weeks ago. And she wouldn't look at it all this while. Earlier this afternoon, she brought the doll to me in its original packaging and asked me to take it out and give it to her.

So far so good?? No, Not really... The real fun starts now.

Since I gave her that un-naturally-proportioned-anorexic-blonde-doll, we've been playing a rather macabre game. She goes to her playmat, takes the doll apart; limb by limb! Then she brings me one limb at a time, then the head and finally the torso. And asks me to put them back together. As soon as I do that, we are back to block 1. She goes sits on her playmat and makes a decapitated-quadruple-amputee-Barbie for me to put together. I tried telling her that I don't really care for that game, but she hasn't taken the hint so far.

On the bright side, like me, she too can't stand Barbie dolls. Good genes do show.

Yet another Star Wars 3 review

Just about everyone seems to have reviewed Star Wars 3: The Revenge of the Sith, and I decided to get on that bandwagon too.

Mostly cribs here. I feel complete and all that jazz. So let's get to the crux of the matter.

The last installment in the prequel trilogy comes across as one big convoluted effort on the part of George Lucas to explain how Obi-Wan Kenobi got his hands on Anakin Skywalker's lightsaber (the one he passes on to Luke in Star Wars 4: A New Hope). It's just a filler between movies 2 and 4. Bollywood uses song and dance sequences instead.

What was with Ewan MacGregor? His failed attempts at a Brit accent did not make him a young Alec Guiness. Alec Guiness who?? The REAL Obi-Wan Kenobi. And what was with those cheesy James Bond kind of one liners anyway?

But still as a die hard fan of the series, it was a good time pass movie. It will never be a classic like the original 3, but entertaining anyway.

Aditi's not-so-latest Pics

First of all, Thanks a lot, Axe! I owe you a big chocolate cake.

This is Aditi at the store cupboard, and she did open this bag of cashewnuts by herself!

I love this one taken at the outdoor concert at the Singapore Botanical Gardens.

More pics will follow. Just don't ask when.

Mr. & Mrs. Smith

Aaaaagh.....

That's the sound of dreams merging with reality. I'm now forced to grow up and look at real life again! Brad Pitt doesn't look hot anymore.

Where, oh where, is that drop dead gorgeous man I saw in Se7en, Meet Joe Black, A River Runs Through It and Legends of the Fall? Or even the Achilles-in-a-sexy-mini-skirt from Troy? Who is this thoroughly average Joe (not Black) trying to impersonate that handsome hunk?

Now that we're done with my key gripe, let's get to others....

The movie was a bit letdown. The media went on and on about the chemistry between Pitt and Jolie. Unless I went to the wrong Sri and Smt Smith, I guess we are not talking about the same movie.

It just didn't live up to all the hype. Now that Brad Pitt isn't lechable anymore, I tuned out half way through the movie. The plot was thinner than an anorexic supermodel, and more vague than SmithaVarsha at her most lucid. (sorry Smi, I couldn't resist getting that dig in!).. It's not a James Bond kinda thing which the reviews led me to believe.

Give it a miss folks... Save it for HBO. Shouldn't be too long before it gets there anyway.

Lots of chocolate for me to eat

That's what I call wishful thinking!

I want lots of chocolate. Dark bittersweet chocolate.

But then reason takes over. Mind over matter, literally. There's way too much matter around (me) anyway!

This is the onset of withdrawal symptoms. Thanks to the custom of never returning an empty container, a dear neighbor filled it with lovely chocolates. As a test of will power, I've left them right there in the open. I SHALT NOT EAT CHOCOLATE.

Yes, I am serious about dumping some excess 'matter'. (Tina, watch out! I will fit into that orange dress again)

Now I understand what temptation is really all about.

The cheese in the fridge is for Aditi. So is the ice cream. And the custard.
The cheese in the fridge is for Aditi. So is the ice cream. And the custard.
The cheese in the fridge is for Aditi. So is the ice cream. And the custard.

Yes, I am writing lines. Writing lines is supposed to increase discipline. So says the master, PG Wodehouse, in all his school-based books. And if the great one says lines will help, then lines it is...

It worked! I didn't give in!!! *burp*

How soon they learn...

When we bought our Canon PowerShot G3 two odd years ago, it took me a couple of hours to figure out basic operations, and more than a month to acquaint myself with the assorted settings.

Aditi sat on the chair next to me while i was writing to Viji. She saw the camera there and wanted to see 'Beeby', which is what she calls herself. I showed her a few pics, and got on with my writing. I heard a click and saw a flash. Aditi had just taken a picture of herself. Before I could drag my jaw away from the floor and react, she had taken two more pics.

I'll post Aditi's maiden self portrait here as soon as I figure out how.

I still cant believe she did that. My mind is still in a state of shock.


Aditi's self portrait

Lousy weather

I like to look out of my window first thing in the morning and look at clean skies. Storm clouds before sunrise somehow put a damper on the grand scheme of things. Rainy mornings mean that Aditi cannot go out to play. Rainy mornings mean that laundry accumulates. Rainy mornings mean no walks around the neighborhood.

My idea of the perfect way to spend a rainy morning? Curl up with a good book and a hot chocolate. But with an energetic 2 year old bouncing on my tummy, that idea will have to be put on the back burner for now.

On the bright side, rainy mornings mean I can sit in the balcony with a nice hot cuppa and not watch the world go by. On days like today, visibility is a joke. I can't see beyond the expressway, and that's 50 mts away. I can't see Bukit Timah, or that stretch of green beyond the station. I can't even see the station. Poor Aditi can't see her 'Trains' either. So I have assured that her that as soon as the sky clears, we can walk to the market and play with the cats (or like Aditi says, play with the 'Miyya')

I had a nice long post in mind, but I can't hear Aditi. That means somethings up, and that is likely to be something I don't like!

Foot-rules

This is so funny that it will boggle your mind. And you will keep trying it at least 50 more times to see if you can outsmart your foot, but you can't!

1. While sitting at your desk, lift your right foot off the floor and make clockwise circles with it.

2. Now, while doing this, draw the number "6" in the air with your right hand.

Your foot will change direction!!!

I told you so... And there is nothing you can do about it.

Nyah Nyah Nyah Nyah Nyah

self inflicted torture

No.. there's nothing kinky here. If that's what you are looking for, go elsewhere!

I've set myself a target... lose 10kgs, or else.... and to help myself achieve this commendable target, I have taken up kickboxing. And yes, it's rather punishing!

I have had a few valuable brilliant flashes so far:
1. I am never likely to be able to touch my nose with my knee (while standing upright.. go figure)
2. Chinese have martial arts in their genes (never watched a Jackie Chan movie?)
3. I think pepper spray is more effective self defence, failing which...
3a. ... I could sing 'That's all I ask of you'

But seriously, the sessions are punishing. After the first session, I ached all over! Even my cheeks and eyelids hurt. Now its better. I can bat my eyes without too much trouble!

Today's lesson was a total disaster. I got slightly mixed up, missed a call, and kicked my neighbour. I have this feeling that I am going to be kicked in the not too far future. And she's really good at this!

If I can still move my fingers after the next session, will blog some more!

Boarding school? or a day off...

Are there boarding schools for mothers?? Mothers out there would echo the sentiment, especially if they are having one of those days. I somehow don't think my little one is ready for boarding school, but I sure as hell am!
Working mothers have it good. (Here's where I open the proverbial can of worms). You get weekends (or at least a day and a half) off each week, sick leave medical benefits so on and so forth. Us stay at home moms dont have that much fun after all. I get to see the house, the kitchen, the kid day in and day out ad infinitum ad nauseum. I need a day off!

No. Not the best or easiest of days. Still haven't figured out why I need to start a blog at all. Maybe somewhere down the way I'll figure out why

Completely clueless

This is really one of those days. I have no clue how to go about my day to day life today, and no energy to do it once i figure it out. Sigh... welcome to my world.

Why am i blogging? hmm... I don't know. I dont even have a clue. I dont know what to say. And I can't think of a single person who would be remotely interested in what I am likely to say. Welcome to the story of my life.