Iniya Putthandu Nalvazhthukkal**.
Wish everyone a happy and prosperous new year.
Picture from my very first Vishu arrangement.
Yes, we are back. Can’t promise the original frequency of posting though, but we will surely try. I know, I know, you’re all burning with questions (all 8 of you) and I hope to answer all of them here.
I got married y’all! Yeah, with all the fanfare and the traditional rituals. SEV wonderfully expressed his thoughts at the time here. I haven’t been able to articulate everything I was feeling in such beautiful words. The one feeling I know I will never forget was that when the tirumangalyam was being tied around my neck. Everything I had been hoping for, planning for, culminated in that one moment. Memories of our times together were flashing past me intermingled with visions of our future together. The atmosphere at the wedding hall was electric. And as hard as I tried I couldn’t turn around catch the expression on my mother’s face (the videographer captured it perfectly though). Some day I think I will understand everything she was feeling that day.
The 2 weeks that we were in India post-wedding saw us both battling the flu. Of course that didn’t stop us from visiting our relatives or visiting the temples my mother-in-law had planned on taking us to. The feeling of being in a new home and adapting to the ways of a whole new family can be a little daunting at the start. However, the fact that I knew my in-laws very well even before the wedding (advantages of a love marriage you see!) made the transition really easy. I just wish I had a little more time to learn everything from my MiL!
And I finally made the decision to move to live with my husband – I knew I couldn’t make a relationship work with distance added into the picture. Many conversations with SEV, my parents, my in-laws and my friends (who were all very supportive, bless them) resulted in us making the decision to move. So we had a month to pack, dispose of stuff and move. We had arranged for movers and that made the whole experience completely hassle-free. I totally recommend my moving company to anyone moving across states – they were very professional and very thorough.
I must say, the experience of setting up a new home together is completely unmatched. Just watching everything fall into place like it always belonged there is almost magical. I was always told that knowing someone very well and living with them are completely different things. So I went in expecting the worst. But I have to say, I know SEV in and out and he’s an absolute delight to live with! His roommates were indeed lucky. 🙂
A couple of days ago, I saw that a contact on my Orkut friends list had put up this clip. (For those of you who don’t understand Marathi, this clip is an audio transcript of a call from Tata Indicom to a man who expects Marathi to be spoken in Maharashtra by Tata Indicom representatives). Needless to say, my blood boiled over and I gave him a piece of my mind. I reported this clip as spreading hatred and removed him from my friends list. I also galvanized my social network into motion and had all of our common friends report him. He is, of course, no more on my Orkut list.
My question is, if educated and literate people act like this, why won’t there be widespread communal disharmony? What happened to tolerance and a secular India?
I cannot believe I did that. Sorry, blog. Please know that you are not forgotten.
Did you guys know that I’m a big fan of beading? I make my own bracelets – of late I’ve started making my own earrings too. It’s incredibly fun and keeps your fingers nimble. Let me know what you think!
Here’s the very first one I beaded:
A few of my newer ones:
Some of the ones with earrings:
I have not seen the sun in 2 weeks now. In case anyone’s keeping count, gloomy dreary winter days are another thing I officially hate.
I think I’m growing up. I went to a Diwali show here, fearing seeing the one person I have so successfully managed to avoid seeing or thinking about for more than a year. I saw them. And I did not feel or think what I feared. In fact, I felt really confident about going up and talking to them. I would have too, had they not disappeared completely after the show – and had there not been like 2000 people there!
I miss performing on stage. I wish I had some way of knowing that my last performance in school was going to be my last one.
This Diwali had to be the worst one in years. I spent it all alone, battling an unbearable headache, and working through the day. Oh and I ate pizza coz I was too sick to cook something nice.
BTW, do you guys have any suggestions (other than painkillers, which is what I had to ultimately resort to) to get rid of headaches? I tried everything – massages, cold compress, tea, coffee, hot shower – to no avail. Then I took my trusted ibuprofen/paracetamol and took a nap. When I woke up my headache was gone. But I hated having to take a painkiller for a simple headache.
The countdown has begun.
Two posts. From two very special people. I’m going to let the posts speak for themselves. 🙂
This one is from Rayshma:
if i were to describe G and my fr’ship in one word.. that word would be strange.
it’s strange how we got to know each other. it took alice’s blog for me to discover her existence. then, we realized that we’d lived in the same town for years, but met saat samundar paar.
i’m usually VERY reserved when it comes to personal space. that never seemed to matter with her. she whizzed right past defenses. strange, again.
it’s strange that we exchanged gtalk id’s just a few weeks after we became regulars on each others’ blogs. stranger still, that we chatted for hours daily after that.
it’s strange that she flew down all the way to texas for my bday. stranger still that vin took leave *something neither of us are usually in favor of* to go drop her back to the airport.
it’s strange that she felt like family even though we were meeting for the first time.
it’s strange that if i ever had a younger sister, i’d hope she’d have been exactly like galadriel. a younger, taller, leaner, meaner version of me!
it’s strange how she is an awesome mix of wit and silliness, sarcasm & kindness… maturity & complete madness! strange how she is SO much like my closest pals, and yet, she’s her own unique self!
it’s strange how though she’s younger… i’ve never felt the age gap. okay… maybe that has to do with my IQ levels… but well, i’m writing this… so I can say that it’s coz SHE is wiser than her years!
it’s strange that despite all that closeness, we’ve spoken on the phone 3 or 4 times in over two years.
and it’s totally strange that i should do a post on her blog to wish her a fantastic bday and a great year ahead. esp when i have nothing to write about on mine.
but well, life is stranger than fiction.
and she sure is stranger than her blog-name! 😛
but, life’s like that!
hope you have a wonderful bday. do have an extra slice of cake for me!
love you loads, gurl! MUAH!
This one is from Dewey:
She likes Ravi Verma’s paintings. That was what cinched it for me. Because until then I had (of course) heard about her incessantly from Her Madness and while it roused my curiosity, it took Ravi Verma to make me pipe up and speak to her.
I had intended to write a funny post and entertain her, make it a nice li’l giftie seeing as how it is her birthday and all but I find that a funny post is rather beyond me. It could be that I am an unfunny person but I guess when it really comes down to it, people who you care about can only inspire posts that are true to your feelings to them. So this is me saying I care about you and I want the best for you, all your life.
And so we sing Happy Birthday while Koi Shaque blares in the background, all the while dressed in outrageous 80s bollywood inspired outfits and toast you with Sambhar!
All for the girl who, on reflection, could only be compared to one thing: a Ravi Verma painting 🙂
Thanks girls! Truly made my birthday so so so special. MUAH!!!!
I just finished reading my very first Tamil novel, Kalki’s Alai Osai. I have never read a full fledged Tamil book before; my reading of the language was limited to reading those bit-jokes in Ananda Vikatan. And now I realize everything I have missed out on all these years.
Kalki’s Alai Osai is an exquisite creation. A magnificent work of art that has no parallels, no comparison, that is quite unlike anything ever written. The free flowing language, the beautiful descriptions of pre-independence India, the little villages of Rajampettai and Devapattinam – all bring forth the magic of the simpler life. And yet set against the stark backdrop of the British Raj, they drive home a harsh truth – one that spanned a 100 year long freedom struggle, causing the deaths of thousands of innocent people who voluntarily or by circumstance laid down their lives to usher in India’s freedom.
Kalki’s characters are sketched with such clarity, that it is difficult to believe that what you are reading is mere fiction. At no point are you made to think that one particular character is good or bad. Everyone has shades of gray and they all make decisions that are only as sensible as the situation permits. Seeta’s vivaciousness, Dharini’s surreal grace, Lalita’s all-too-simple devotion to her friend, Raghavan’s monstrous desires and Surya’s ever steady ideals – all make for a collage of very distinctive and memorable characters that won’t leave your thoughts for a very long time.
Kalki brings alive the cruel reality of human nature, one thought, one action of ours that affects the lives of everyone around us and those of our future generations. He makes you realize that no matter how noble one’s intentions, the repercussions of one impulsive act can be catastrophic enough to haunt them for the rest of their lives. He depicts the contrasts in his characters by embellishing their similarities. He takes you on a sepia-tinted journey to the far-flung corners of the country, starting from a tiny village post office to the vast streets of Mumbai to the banks of the Hoogly in Kolkata to the buzz of activity in Karachi, all the while making you aware of the unrest in the country and its eventual culmination in the barbaric riots of ’47 and the subsequent partition.
As a story teller he remains completely neutral throughout and never allows his personal opinions to jade the narrative. Hence the events of the time remain in the background, affecting the protagonists but never trying to send out a social message of any sort. He also remains extraordinarily detached from his characters, never once lapsing into pathos-evoking descriptions of Seeta’s hardships. He just narrates. You decide your feelings for her based on what he has told you. He builds up the narrative with such ease and class that before you know it, you are possessed by an insurmountable curiosity to know the climax which is sure to leave you shattered and numb. Not because it comes as a surprise to you, but because you realize how futile it all is. And how realizing your mistakes may just not be enough, and if even a little late in coming, may be too late to really do anything about.
I cannot help falling in love with the book over and over again, with every chapter, with very line. It is indeed a pity that a writer of his caliber is not recognized anywhere outside Tamil Nadu.