Cloudy Notions

Is it just me, or do the big billowing water-laden, monsoon clouds make everyone so very pensive?
I live right on the sea, my building stands tall at the edge of a small bay, filled with fishing boats that stay out of commission here this time of the year.

Whenever I get done with work on time, I try to make it back home in time for dusk to take a run  along my building track that is literally on the water. I find it very invigorating to exercise in an open space, with clean air and a brilliant view of my city! This is a space that many people enjoy; especially lovers, stealing a moment for private romance and harmless banter. But it is also a haven for other "pensers" like me, who seem to be lost in their thoughts, taking stock of their situations in life.

The Mumbai Monsoons are really quite something - the city does get hit very hard by the often relentless Rain Gods that seem to be trying to convey a divine message with the strong downpour. I think of it as them trying to clean up the dusty, dirty, over-populated city that its citizens take so much for granted - bathing the few trees and green patches that continue to exist, washing off all the grime the leaves are surving under. Trying to wash some of the city's sins away.

Up till my late teens, I used to play with my set gang of building friends every single evening. We loved the mushy terrain that the monsoon season provided. Quite creatively, we would make our own set of the then popular TV show, "The Crystal Maze". An adventure-centric show, hosted by the iconic  Richard O'Brien, set in 5 distinct zones (Aztec, Medieval, Futuristic, Industrial and Ocean), the show featured a group of 6 rough n tough adults, who would have to challenge themselves physically and mentally to finally make it to the Crystal Maze! We did our very own version of the above, using waterbodies, swings, slides, rocks, puddles, ropes....your very own Indiana Jones in the making...

This adventorous streak continues to burn in me. And I hope it never dies. Even though, I am pretty sure that I am not cut out to be your local Xenia Warrior Princess...And recent activities prove the same.

Last Sunday, I wanted to do "something different".

My family cringes every time I use this phrase, (and I use it rather often) because there is no saying what it could be that I want to do. And it is a given, that it is definitely not something any of them want to do! Hence, I will need to "recruit" people who want to join me! In any case, last Sunday, I wanted to do "something different" so I joined my truly super-trooper friend E and her gang, on a day trek to Karnala, on the outskirts of Mumbai. I was told it was going to be an easy, relaxed, misty trek up to the fort. Enjoy the view, eat some healthy snacks, and make our way down. Simple enough right? Told my parents this plan and they looked at each other and rolled their eyes. They knew I had "decided" that I was going to trek whether they would say anything to the contrary or not.

So at 6 am that Sunday morning, I groggily tried to get off the bed and into my trek gear and set off for an enchanted-walk-in-the-clouds kinda day....

Should've known!!!!!!

The Motley crew commenced the ascent at 8.30 am through a thick forest-like terrain. The rain was coming down, making the earth soft and squishy (keechad!!!), there was not a bird in sight (Karnala is a bird sanctuary.........apparently) and we had opted for the steeper, tougher route up, since we are such seasoned trekkers (not!).
2 hours later, we had made it to the top and I felt like I had done a 1000 lunges. The way down had already become a major concern in my mind!
Here are pictures from the venture:

All mist and clouds

Yep, we did this...

View with a view

Wardrobe Malfunction - Notice, the rubberband holding together the sole of his left shoe! What a brave soldier...!

Virtuous Vines

After spending an hour at the old fort and enjoying a bird's eye view over the entire Deccan plateau, we started our way back down. Slowly but surely. By this point, a lot of fellow nature enthusiasts had come too, causing a a fair amount of mountain traffic. I cant say I wasn't surprised seeing these people making their way up, inappropriately clad in flimsy rubber slippers and many even barefoot! I watched an entire family there, with their 3 year old girl dressed up in a shiny bejweled salwar-kameez...and I just couldn't understand how they would manage the trek. Here I was, in my sturdy sports shoes, wearing the "right" clothes and still finding it so challenging. Were they not worried about getting hurt, slipping or falling....There was no paramedic in sight, not even a good ol' first aid box available at the bottom...so the potential damage was great. I definitely felt quite ashamed at my lack of strength and need for material comforts.

Last year, same time, I had visited Aamby Valley and had done a 2 hour "nature walk". Now this was amazing!!! There was a lake, a boat ride on the lake, little bridges, amazing flaura and fauna, waterfalls, underwater caves et all..................only later was I told that this was indeed man-made!

So there you have it, I am a pseudo outdoor fan..........but it is is true, monsoons can be more than just mucky. It is a lovely time to get close to yourself, enjoy a nice cup of chai, watch the clouds coming in, move to the beat of the dramatic thunder and lightening and think of the rainbow on the other side.

Rainbow Picture taken by me over the Bombay Gym tennis court - 2012

Life of a Lemur

There comes a moment in all of our lives, when something hitherto unknown happens and we are changed from that point on.

The past 5 years have been incredibly trying for me. I cant be sure why since technically all has been well. But my mind and body have been in a state of permanent stress and anxiety. Plagued with a myriad of thoughts and a perennial stream of worry, I have not allowed myself really look around me and realize that all is not so bad...

But then something happened. And I feel the heavy fog that has drowned my spirits and my beliefs for so very long, is slowly lifting.

I just got back from an incredible trip to attend my friend’s wedding in her hometown -  the great big island of Madagascar. And as usual, whilst planning this trip, the stress bugs set in and offered all sorts of bizarre “what if’s” and “perhaps” to confuse and destroy my decision to attend it. My biggest fear was going alone, and not knowing “enough” of people there. This time however, I fought off all these thoughts, and reckoned that I would embrace all aspects of this trip for better or for worse. And as soon as i decided this, small and simple things clicked and things started to fall into place...

Antananarivo

I will never be able to thank my friend Naima and her (now) husband Shahim, for the wonderful hospitality and graciousness they offered to all 30+ of us, who came from various parts of the world to attend their wedding. They really went all out taking care of us for the entire period  and promising that we had the time of our lives. Which indeed we did.

I found it a fascinating and unusual “Indian” wedding experience. Here are 2 people who come from a very specific and small community in Mada - Naima is a 5th generation Malagasy-Indian, whose forefathers once hailed from Gujarat and left India so many decades ago to fight off abject poverty and improve their circumstance in life. Finding themselves far, far away from India, now in Madagascar, Africa, this community works exceedingly hard to retain and even improve their idea of India and being Indian. Its strange because they physically look Indian, but they speak to one another in French, interspersed with Gujarati. They are extremely well-heeled, and are global citizens, but most of them have never visited India and so it holds as the most exotic and wondrous destination in their minds. At the mehendi, whilst I was dancing the garba (yes, I said garba! Not to forget, another evening of Dandiya!!), I felt all the eyes of the ladies on me. These ladies who had carefully and painstakingly come all dressed up in their desi best - wearing the latest styles that they had seen in the movies and off the internet. For them, it was just unbelievable that i was the only “real” Indian there who had come alllllllll the way from true Indian soil to Madagascar. By default, this made me the leader of the chorus line, and I would often find myself having to “perform” for the curious audience!

Naima and her effortlessly elegant mother spent an entire month in Mumbai, meticulously planning every single teeny-tiny, minute detail of the wedding. Taking into account every aspect of the celebration - from the the invitation cards, outfits, jewelry, to the decor elements and not to mention, gifts for so many people, single-handedly the 2 Meralli-Ballou ladies took the city by storm. By the end of the second week, they knew every gulli-guchi and side alley of Mumbai inside out. This was a real feat - considering they were foreigners preparing for a mammoth of a wedding in such a distant land, from bustling Bombay, with no hindi-speaking skills. Really, chapeau les filles!!

I happened to be traveling myself on the same night as them, so we met one last time at the airport for a quick hug. Naima’s mum told me that they had over 5000 KG of goodies with them, that they had to courier. A few weeks after they had left, I got a giant parcel at home - it was addressed to me, but it had come from some dodgy-sounding person in Hyderabad, who I obviously didn’t know. My overactive imagination got the better of me, and I tried to guess the (toxic + harmful) contents of that box. As I pondered over whether to call the courier company or the police or to simply ditch the box outside my house, I got a call from Naima telling me to watch out for a parcel that was for her and on its way to my home. It is a good thing that she called me just in time, before I had done something really silly with that package whose true contents were 2000 personalized charms bearing a special prayer on it, that her mum wanted to share with all the guests at the mosque, present for the nikkah ceremony.

Beautiful People: The Bride and her Family

Amidst the twinkling lights, bursts of colour, the cacophony of the guests and the general din of a wedding, I looked around and appreciated  the culmination of all their effort and sincerity, that had come together to make it such a beautiful and tasteful wedding. The table napkins, the centerpieces, the take-away gifts from the functions, the saris all of Naima’s friends wore, they all looked familiar! I had seen them as samples!

The Bridesmaids and the Bride's mom

Colour No Bar

Ladies dinner at the mosque

Kabool! Meet Mr. and Mrs. Madagascar

The Ghagra was a bit too heavy.....

There is a saying, the people make the place and this holds forth since the best part of the trip for me was the people I met. And of course, the fun that we had!

Hotel Tamboho, our humble hotel in Antananrivo (Tana, from this point on), was an efficiently-run property built on a patch of shimmering green grass, and began to feel like home by the end of the trip. For all the other non-wedding guests staying there, it must have resembled a frat-house, given that the small space was spilling over with the lot of us, at all times of the day and night...It was here that everyone would gather around and hang out, drink and smoke too much, pump up the music volume and laugh very,very loudly. Day times were reserved for the pool side and come sun-down, the party would move to the lobby area. For any observer looking at this motley crew, we must have seemed like an advert for the United Colours of Benetton.
Shahim studied in London and in those years found himself a band of brothers from various parts of the world, and their bond was thicker than blood. These boys were all there to support their main man during this life-altering moment in his life, and were sure to make every moment count! It was due to their antics and let’s say, joie de vivre, that the rest of us were integrated into the plan. There was something in the air, that got us all to relax and merge with one another. For those 10 days, we danced, we laughed, we shared.....and some more.

Chileez

Gangsta Trippin'

The Bose Boy

Kukure! Dancing Afrikana style

We managed to take a break from Tana and visit nearby lake town, Mantasoa for a 2 night “camping” getaway, which also proved to be an epic experience! Not to say too much on the internet, but for most of us present that fateful night, I’m sure the highlight was the 2 am skinny-dipping episode, when the dude decided it was his duty to strip and plunge into the icy lake. Not sure why and how that happened, but it made for spectacular entertainment, complimenting the bonfire and starry night so thank you, GG.

Bonfire Time

The craziness would continue in the mini vans that we traveled in and would come with us to all the various places we visited. I suppose the bestest and most x rated times were had by Yanish (The groom's younger brother) and his cronies, in Yanish's gangsta mobile. (I jumped in for a ride just one time, and shuddered to think what nefarious activities must have transpired otherwise!) It was great that no one had an attitude or were judgmental...it was refreshing to just be and act naturally, without thinking about its implications.

Messy!

Pure Evil

So the days literally flew by in this happy bubble and it wasn’t until my second last night that that the “je-ne-sais-quoi” feeling creeped in. Still in Mantasoa, under a dazzlingly-clear sky, I was catching shooting stars with KK and Naima's dapper cousin brother, Karim. It was nice and nippy outside, and I felt fresh and alive! Temperatures were rising back inside the restaurant, as the rest of the troops moved on from dinner to drinks. Chammak Challo was banging and people were stomping.

Magic.
The last night was an elegant sit-down dinner and reception, I was hit by a wave of unexpected melancholy at realizing that in a few hours, I would be home-bound and back to my “real life”. This youthful, carefree time had come to en end, like all good things. I left with a heavy heart, but a happy heart, knowing that good times were around the corner. The winds were going to blow in my favour...What will be, shall be!

Dashing!

Under the Lights - Reception

God is in the details

Tonkeeeeeees

Until we meet again.......

Fly High!

The Horizontal Times

Meet my boys - Hank, Harvey and Brody. These 3 boys have been monopolizing all my time in the past few weeks. Each one of them is amazing in his own way - dashing, good looking, accomplished, successful, hard working...what more can a girl ask for in a man? And the best part is that I enjoy myself so much with each one of them - they make me laugh, they teach me about the ways of the world. It gets better - they don't even know about each other! How often does a girl find herself in this deliciously sticky predicament?

The answer my friends is...

Never!

And that’s just it: my romance with these 3 chaps is virtual. I have to get over the fact that they are just mere characters, that will never ever exist in the real world!

Hank Rearden - Brooding Industrialist, Steel Magnate and visionary - a la The Fountainhead. Harvey Spector - Hot-shot lawyer, ace heart-breaker and the great-hair-guy - from the sitcom Suits; 
and lastly, Sergeant Brody - Afghan War Hero and possible Jihaad leader, red-haired and freckled -  from the sitcom Homelands

And there you have it. I am plain lame! Knock yourselves out...I am troubled by a fictitious love rectangle, all in my head! 

Normally, I am not such a couch potato, who enjoys uninterrupted hours of telly or plans movie-marathons, with great gusto. So for me to be spending so much time watching back-to-back tv shows and reading a heavy book; implies something is not quite right. And alas, this is the case since I hurt my back doing god-knows-what three weeks ago and have been firmly instructed to lay flat as much as possible. I am going absolutely crazy trying to keep straight and restful, as has been prescribed to me. Sure, it has been fun, being able to legitimately be a vegetable and have breakfast-lunch and dinner in bed. But enough already! I am missing my sneakers, I am missing the sweat and I am missing the happy endorphins that come from physical activity.

I feel about a hundred years old whilst popping a cocktail of pills or when wearing a ridiculous waist brace, and generally, clutching onto my back every time I feel a sensation of throbbing pain. Physio is the new Pilates class, the it thing to be doing...If you are truly cool, then you have at some point or the other in the last 3 years suffered some sort of a back issue. It is incredible how many of my friends have unfortunately been riddled with a back problem of late. I look at my parents and their friends, who lead extremely busy lifestyles and despite being in their 60’s, continue to have very productive lives. They work, they run homes, they travel and they exercise. I don’t find them groaning and moaning over their hips or their knees or their backs (touch wood!). 

All these “modern” lifestyle-related health issues are worrying, as they trouble so many of us. What is it about our mental state of minds, that we cant seem to effectively keep stress at bay? We definitely have less responsible and more comfortable lives with the good fortune of being endowed with a lot more than our parents had whilst growing up. 

We have all read various news stories and articles on this subject so I wont jump into a motherly sermon. All I can hope for now is to get back into business and into my usual routine. 

Hmph. I should get busy again, shouldn't I? After all, I got to keep the boys in check!

Helter Skelter Aru

I genuinely don’t know how the past few months have simply flown by. I have been here, there and everywhere - and yet, no where! does that make any sense?
Strange, but i have grown even more listless than usual! My mind is constantly distracted by a myriad of conflicting thoughts.

I sit here gingerly trying to make friends with the keyboard once again and reclaim a hobby, i enjoyed so much - writing on this blog. This little space of mine in the crazyclustered virtual world, has previously given me much happiness and contentment. And I am sure this and the next few blog entries might appear a bit shaky, but i resolve to steer it back on course!!


                                                                           ****

So, I just got back from Doha....a city which is still more dust than development. A city of the future lets say, and a truly dazzling future at that! This trip makes it my third visit in the past year and a half, and I have in inkling that there will be several more to come.

I find the G.C.C a truly interesting zone; as it holds much allure to me. Similar to my feelings towards the former U.S.S.R - Ukraine (I went to Kiev last winter) and Russia (Can’t wait to visit the land of Faberge and Putin).
The local Emirati has a life completely and utterly unknown to anyone who is a non-Arab. it it a world shrouded in mystery and moolah! Whenever I am in a mall, I am riveted at the sight of all the “floating people” - elegant ladies in their beautifully fashioned abayaas with stunning kohl-lined eyes and strongly defined eyebrows, with a shimmering clothing perching strategically off their coiffed hair. And the rugged men in their whiter-than-white, crisp dish-dashes and head gear, with the neatest shaves, their eyes wildly dancing about at everything around them. In these long robed outfits, they glide through the malls, fulfilling their daily cardio requirements, leaving the insignificant others standing, in a cloud of their heavy attar trail....

I find them all beautiful creatures - almost mystical. I wonder what goes on behind the private confines of their homes and hearts. They are not like us, that is for sure. But how different can they be, is what i am interested in.

The mood in Doha is moderate; set at an ideological mid-point between decadent Dubai and severe Saudi. The tiny population of 250,000 people enjoy the safety of their country, from the plush confines of their souped-up Bentleys, Maybachs and Rolls-Royces. Business seems to have moved from pearl-fishing to real-estate. Sitting on top of a huge oil resource, the rich locals have a lazy life dedicated to travel and prayer. Presently, the  city boasts little in terms of entertainment avenues. There is a cute little souk area in the old town, a noteworthy museum of Islamic art, the high-end Pearl project and so on....And as for all the thirsty expats that have now made Doha their home, all roads lead to the W Hotel or to La Cigalle, to quench that thirst. The lobby of the W hotel was crawling through out the 3 days that I was there. Wahm! and Crystal were thronging with gyrating people, enjoying the house-beats till the wee hours of the morning.
I went for a peak-a-boo with darling Clement, who was there on work as well. we enjoyed a few silly moments like the one below:


Doha has a mammoth jewelry exhibition every year, which is now in its 10th edition. It is mammoth not in terms of the size of the exhibition; but with the sheer inventory up for sale.
With the oldest and finest jewelers and watch-makers present there, to try and sell their most rare and coveted baubles. It is said that just the immediate Royal Family (Al Thani family), allocates a $20 million budget towards this exhibition alone.

WOW or WHAT?!

As I went on a 2-day mystery shopping adventure, I had great fun being entertained by most of the booth owners, who thought me to be in the market for some thing big, beautiful and expensive. Although generally, all their attention was focussed on the more realistic business opportunities provided by the Sheikhas!

This time, i got to see some truly incredible things - particularly at JAHAAN, Cartier and at the Christies Private Sales salon. I saw the most incredible collection of emerald beads - so beautiful - that one could be fooled that they were glass marbles! I also saw the modern-day version of the Maharaja of Patiala bib - undoubtedly one of the greatest jewels every created!

I leave you with this beautiful image and a long, long sighhhhhhhhh.................

Laurent of ARUbia

I cant contain myself any longer, and now that the opening weekend has passed, iI’m able to spill the beans on English Vinglish.

To begin with, let me answer most peoples’ first question: Yes, Sriji is absolutely terrific. Miss 420 delivers a real, honest, believable and strong performance in her come back movie. She plays Simple Shashi will utmost grace and dignity, being true to her age and stage in life. It would been trying to say the least if Sri had decided to return to  the big screen as a a chamak-dhamak cheez, clad in a tight dress and wearing tall heels. It would have been easy for her to have believed that she could have pulled off such a role too, given her real-life avtaar is ultra-glam - she still has a “fab bod” with those lissome limbs, the glossy curtain of hair, clear complexion and those big, bright, animated eyes.Those very eyes, that got Laurent at first sight. 

(Long Sighhhh)

Lover boy Laurent, one of the main supporting characters cast as the classic French lover and as Shashi’s biggest classroom fan. And as the sigh might have implied, he is a real dreamboat. Playing a French chef, who finds himself in mid-town Manhattan, cooking at a restaurant but struggling with communication as he can’t speak “the good English”. Laurent encounters a nervous Shashi at the cash till of a cafe, struggling to order herself a sandwich and a coffee (all she wants is a humble Nescafe, but she is offered instead is the choice between an Americano, a Latte, a cappucino or a mocchacino). Shashi is bring given the third degree by an increasingly angry big momma at the counter, at her in-ability to place the order fast enough. As the scene unfolds, Shashi is found stuttering, mumbling, stumbling and rushing out of the cafe in shame. She goes to a bench some distance away where she breaks down and is sobbing.

Enter Laurent.

“Madame, zees eez your cappucino that you order” (please note the pronunciation and grammar). Shashi looks up and their eyes meet. Still dumb-founded, she takes the cup of coffee that he offers and they part ways...and as they say, the rest is history. 

Well, not really because this isn’t your usual hindi movie jahaan kuch bhi possible hain...So as it goes, Sridevi is in the Big Apple, to help her widowed sister plan a changla Maharashtrian wedding of her daughter to a godd Amrikan mulga. This is the first time that the largely unexposed and inexperienced Shashi finds herself far, far away from home (Mumbai), all alone in a big city and apart from her only life (husband, kids and amiable mother-in-law). If not stating the obvious then, Sridevi’s character doesn’t speak a word of English and has faced sufficient humiliation by her little daughter and annoying husband for this, over the years. To make it worse, she is now here, and can’t get around because of it. She is however in the loving company of her sister, who was also like her once upon a time. But life and circumstance smartened her up in to a perfect NJ mother of 2 bubbly and attractive girls. Shashi’s younger niece, is a sensitive and loving girl, who understands her maasi’s need of emancipation from her own inhibitions, particularly that of her disability to speak English. Together, they share a little secret, and Shashi enrolls into a 4 week crash course in learning English. It is in the confines of the classroom and in the company of her classmates, that the character of Shashi comes into her own. 

The first important breakthrough is her being called an entrepreneur by her professor, when she describes that she makes and sells ladoos from her home, back in India. It is for the first time that she has been regarded with a molecule of respect - a feeling she has never known since her kids and husband made her feel like nothing on earth. She is merely a lady, performing her duties as a home maker - a role so very important to the fabric of family life and society at large - but regarded as thanklessly by the people she has devoted her life to.

Essentially the movie highlights one of the most important human needs - that of respect and dignity from the people one lives with. 

In a matter of 6 weeks, Shashi’s character experiences life hitherto unknown to her. She changes a lot, but not that dramatically that she is suddenly transformed out of saris and into sneakers and playing a cool Americanised soccer mom. But the changes are shown subtly, delicately and believably. As I said in the beginning, Sridevi plays the roll of this lady poignantly and perfectly, never going out of sync with the character. This is wonderful to see, and I am sure that the highly talented writer and director of the movie, Gauri Shinde had a lot to do with this. Gauri Shinde has developed the character of Shashi from her own mother who faced similar treatment. Once Gauri had grown up, she had realised how often she must have hurt her mother...this premise was strong enough for her to be convinced to make a movie based on it. Perhaps this is the reason why Gauri has got all the little details in place - even small gestures, nuances and character traits have been woven in so beautifully into the script. To add to that, the casting is excellent, with not a single character out of place or over-done (least of all Laurent, sigh again). 

My only grievance was towards Shashi’s husband and the lack of explanation towards their reason of union. One wonders what he saw in her to have married her, given the great difference in not just their personalties, but even in their educational qualifications. Perhaps, it was her culinary skills? But this is just an assumption.

The tender tale of Shashi’s parivartan will have universal appeal - for there is a Shashi in all our lives. I would urge as many people to watch it as it is never to late to recognise the value of the Shashi in his/her life and treat her differently - the way she deserves to be. 

P.S -It seems we may see more of Shashi aur Laurent ki jodi : 

http://articles.timesofindia.indiatimes.com/2012-09-24/cinema/34060714_1_mehdi-nebbou-english-vinglish-gauri-shinde

Mellow Yellow

My heart bursts with pride...mama De is painting the town yellow!

What better way to flag off the "festive season", than with my mother receiving the Veuve Clicquot Tribute, this Friday evening? It is not enough that she has been a constant source of inspiration for me and my siblings, but also to countless nameless and often faceless women all accross India and Asia, over the past four decades. But she receives this very special honour from VC in the category of 'Inspirational Women of the World'.

Ladies and Gentleman, please do read the official note below:

Without sounding too gushy, this is truly an important moment in her life time. I feel trmendously proud of her. She has worked so hard and so sincerely and has contributed to society in the best ways known by her, and with the resources in her means.

Working out of our home, with the family dining table as her office, the perenially broken cordless as her dedicated hotline and with the services of our semi-literate home help as her "personal assitants", my mum has furiously and prolifically carried along. Never fussing as a creative or glamorous person usually does, she has done her work with all her heart and soul, over the din of kitchen sounds, the dhobiwaala and the phonewalla.She has always been this way, as far back as I can remember. Never comprimising on her family life and valuing us in her life, she manages to balance all the worlds that she has chosen to be a part of.

When I was younger, there were many times that I would be irked that I would have to share her or our time together with people who were mere strangers (intruders?) to me, who would come to visit her. I was always encouraged to hang about these meetings, and being the chipkoo little girl that I was, I would stay just put, sponging in all that I heard.
All kinds of people from different parts of the world and various walks of life meet with mum and the case usually is that they come to her with the force of a homing device to its base. It takes just a few moment after meeting her that these people enjoy a "volcano moment" and simply erupt their thoughts, their troubles, their ideas, their hearts...
Through these interactions, I have learned so much about the lives of others and it is only now that I can value those experiences. I have been fortunate enough to meet some truly great and wonderful people and particularly some fabulous women, whom I could have never met on my own. So I am glad that I was that chipkoo creature, clinging on to her and never feeling too shy to stay in!

Now as I attempt to forge my own path in life, I find myself in amusing situations when people "realise" that I am her flesh and blood. The colour in their faces change, their eyes brighten and I know that they are looking at me in a different light. Without skipping a beat, I follow suite and play the part to the T! But it is so amusing...because she is just my mom, sitting at home in her kaftaan, in front of the laptop going clickety-clack and awaiting the return of her absconding children, even if they roll home at 5 am! But to them, she is a role model and a figure of motivation.

I can't say she is a regular mom, and thank God for that! I have enjoyed life's best moments with her or living vicariously through her.

As I get ready to celebrate her moment this Friday evening, my only thought is that I hope to have even half her effervescence and joie de vivre.

Chin, chin folks and drink up your cup of life.

Mum in Reims at the Shobhaa De vintage patch of VC champagne

The girl who went missing

 

Hello? It's me. Yes, I know I have been away. I was traveling, but I didn't get too far. I hope you don't mind, since I have just shown up here, completely out of the blue. It is a little late; but I wanted to check in with you none the less. It feels good to be here. So please may I stay, just for a short while?

So much and yet so little has happened since my last blog post...where do I begin? There were so many times that I was dying to write and then the feeling would pass by quickly. I have been thoroughly in-disciplined about it.Truth be told, I have developed cold feet too. I thought it would be difficult to move on from this long period of silence. As I type, I'm hoping for my fingers to warm up slowly yet surely, and let them do the work.

I have been traveling a lot for work and today I find myself hurrying (as usual), to make my train from Delhi to Ludhiana As I sit here on the train bound for Prosperous Punjab, I am hopeful. Hopeful that the exhibition goes off well and we do well. Not sure this place is all that it is cracked up to be, but sure as hell hope so and hope is all we have right?

It has been a long time since I've been anywhere on leisure and my mind keeps wandering to places that are calling out to me.

On my dream wander-list is the holy city of Benares. A city I have been longing to visit for a while, but particularly so, in the last one year since I learned about the wonderful festival of Dev Diwali (Diwali of the Gods), from a friend of mine, who has celebrated it there last year and had had the most enchanting time. The idea got reinforced when my mother was working on an initiative to rehabilitate and revive the dying art of the gorgeous Benarasi weaves, as part of a project spearheaded by the TATA group. Watching the priests perform the aarti on the faux ghaats, created in the ballroom, I got lost in the smell of the powerful dhoop, that filled the space and created such a serene atmosphere. If I felt so strongly in this setting, I wondered how I would feel when I actually was at the edge of the Ganges, preparing for my virgin dubki into the holy water! Clearly, it felt as a bulaava, which I am sure will be realised some time very soon.

 
From the Ganga to the Seine....Ooh la la, Paris is calling - the glorious October skies, the sharp nip in the air, the wonderful fleuristes lining all the streets, and of course, the pungent smell of a mix of cigarettes and heavy parfum, all around! Oh! how I crave for a week in the city of coffee and croissants so, so much. Especially since so many of my besties are visiting there right now.

Ms. Groover has left us behind in Mumbai and is merry-making and embracing her new life at INSEAD. Her present life goes something like this: study, group meeting, drink, party, recover,eat, drink, sleep, study, recover.  You get the idea? And when she is done with that, she jumps into her car and whizzes into Paris. And after an adequate city fix, she zips back to Fontaine Bleu - the land of Napoleon. I believe this French Miss is getting set for a weekend in Switzerland...on a school assignment, she says. I think otherwise!

If that sounds like too much of work, then Naima's plan, may be more up your stream...she is back in Paris, after a giddy-heady 2 months in her home town of Maddy (Madagascar), where she has gotten engaged to her long-time beau. What better way to prepare for a life of marital bliss, than by honing the art of sweet-toothing! Chapeau, Naimu, the smart girl has figured that the surest way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Lucky guy! I have not only had the chance of sampling many of her culinary delights, but have had the greater chance to watch her whipping up a storm a la cuisine, back in her delightfully sunny kitchen in Paris. Who wants Nigella, when you have Naïma?

The good ol' days

And finally, Ms.Melanie Shah is getting set for her first visit to Paris and has Gotham, for good company. Mils has approached this trip with scientific precision, not leaving much to chance. 2 months ago, she was facing a massive confusion in her mind on which hotel to pick, and sent me an SOS email to help her clear the confusion. I said yes of course, and soon received an excel file, with a list of short-listed hotels, with various rating scales and a 'final comments' column for additional info. Wow! This was definitely more analytical than many of the projects I did at work, but I made it through and sent her back my 2 top choices. At this moment, we get on the phone to finalise The Hotel. It all boiled down to one simple quandary : should we pick the famous one in chic St. Germain or go for the one in convenient Opera, which includes a free bottle of wine as well as a museum pass?
Obviously we picked the latter!
If I were in Paris right now, what would I like to do the most?? Well, I would definitely grab the museum pass and visit the Van Cleef & Arpels, Haute Joaillerie exposition at the Musee des Art Decoratifs where 400 pieces that have made the fame of Van Cleef & Arpels since 1906 are being showcased. Truly a spectacular and extremely special collection of some of the finest crafted jewels!

Although I am most certain that the City of Lights will bewitch Mils and G, it now seems the only thing left to chance is if Mils gets time for some retail therapy, and this one Gotham decides!

Well, so where does that leave me, I forget? Ah right, back to longing and lusting. For the moment, I guess, I will have to make do with the land of kulchas and cholle. And perhaps, a patiala or two, will knock me out of my state of nostalgia and reverie!

Back to the train ride, iPod in hand, song for this moment - "oye lucky, lucky oye!"