EU Diaries - Where do i begin

(getting this out in parts, since i have given up on being able to chew it whole)

Let me start by telling you what we saw in Rome. In order of appearance, the Indian Embassy, the Swiss Embassy and the French Embassy. Some Italian &^@%!^ stole my handbag on the train from Milan to Venice and that handbag had both our passports. [Pause for effect]. So. Most of the time in Rome was spent in persuit of new passports and Visas. Our hotel in Venice was the worst possible under the circumstances – it had neither a phone nor Internet, so we couldnt reach information and people with information couldn’t reach us. We finished off Venice in one evening (walked to St Marks Square and got back on a Vaporetto) and reported early Tuesday morning at the police station to file our report.

The policeman started out looking like a man with an attitude but turned out to also have a sense of humour. The dude was filling out the forms and hesitated while filling out my birthday. “Isnt he supposed to know that”, asked the policeman and even air-slapped him a couple of times for me :D The keys to my suitcase were also gone with my handbag so basically I didn’t have any clothes to change into. We asked him for a plier and broke into our own bag, with the policeman looking on encouragingly. By which I mean of course that the dude went at it with the plier while I looked on in awe.

With the police report we pushed off to Rome. I felt happy and light, I thought we were at the end of all the troubles. HA!

EU diaries - day 0 and 1

Yes. I am in Zurich in a hotel typing out this post. However, as my alarm says every damn morning - lets start at the very beginning, shall we?

The dude had some official stuff to do in Zurich and he said why dont you come along, we will make it a Europe trip. That was it, that was the starting of the madness. I sqeeed and sqeeeeed, mostly because that would mean my passport would finally have a stamp! And then we got about planning the whole thing. Plans, i tell you, they suck all the joy out of things. Where to go, how long, what to see, transport, stay, food (vegetarian for two) - madness. If he didnt have to go for the office thing anyway, i swear we would have given up the whole thing. We started off with very ambitious plans involving lots of visas and three very excited friends who were very excited to see us and whom we were very excited to see. That didnt work out, so we decided to stick to Switzerland, Italy and France. My very excited friends have vowed to forever hate me for ditching them, for which i am grateful. On the other hand, France has some very excited friends too :)


Day 0

Packing done?
Nope.
Supplies?
Nope.
Money?
Nope.
All of that and much much more, is day 0. After running around (on a Sunday, mind you) in search of banks that will give us a travel card, we finally decide to get Euros at the airport. Bangalore Airport guy says he'll give us a Euro for 75 rupees. We turn our nose up at and decide to get some at Mumbai, where we have stopover.

Mumbai airport, domestic terminal. 77 rupees for one Euro, he agrees to come down to 76. Wth! Mumbai should have more demand and more competition and so better rates no? Evidently, no. We decide to get it at the international terminal.
Mulmai airport, international terminal. 77 rupees for one Euro. We decide to get inside the airport.
Mulmai airport, international terminal, inside. 77 rupees for one Euro, take it for leave it. We take it.

Mumbai airport, immigration line. I am scared, i feel like i am standing outside the principal's office, waiting to be called. I get called. He studies my papers, and asks me - first time? I nod with an excited grin. Going to open a swiss bank account, eh - he says. I laugh, half because that is what one does when the principal makes a joke, half because i think it is funny. Then i abruptly stop and ask him nervously - did i pass? He nods and hands over my passport. I am in!

Mumbai international airport, loo. There are few things in this world that make me feel as inadequate as those automatic hand sensing taps do. Why dont you open? It is my hands? Are they not at the right spot? Are they too... transparent? What? What? What?


Swiss air flight. Freshly minted Monday morning. I should be excited about crossing the borders, but i am completely distracted by all the movies i can watch! I CANT PICK! I settle down to a documentary about FaceBook. Somewhere in there, we cross the border. When the dude points out a map on some screen on the plane, we are flying over Pakistan. Halfway through the documentary, i fall asleep.


Day 1

Zurich. Chilly, but nice. The dude leaves for work, i am mostly left to my own device. I hang around the room, eat my breakfast for lunch. The time difference confuses me all day. My stomach decides to deal with the confusion by feeling hungry at both the time zones. I keep eating all day. I glance out of the window and see the sun has come out and the road is sparkling! I get out for a walk. Cause major confusion and cursing at a zebra crossing by waiting for the cars to pass through. By the time i realize that i, as the pedestrian, have the right of passage, around 10 cars have stopped, all waiting for me to cross. I run away from the zebra crossing.

Its the best kind of weather - chilly and sunny. On a circular bench near the hotel, this girl lies down on the bench, her head resting on her violin case, soaking up the sun. I look at her and a big smile is upon my face. I have always wanted to be unselfconscious enough to be able to do that. She sees me seeing her and moves her purse to a safer location!

Evening. We go hunting for dinner. The dude has heard that the city centre has good places to eat. Armed with a map, we go looking for the city centre. It is not to be found. We walk back, it is lateish but the sun is still around. The streets are almost empty, giving the city an eerie look. We spot a McDonalds on the way. Their veggi burger saves our life.

The dude tries trawling though the TV for stuff to watch. I give in to sleep.

A year

or thereabouts, since i introduced the dude on this blog (right, that is how she defines the event, not that she got married or moved cities or changed homes or got into a new family). I figured doing something on what kind of a year it has been is a good to break the silence.
(oh, and after this, stay tuned for breaking news!)
Its been... ordinary. Dont get me wrong, ordinary is good. Especially for two people who spent 5 years in different cities convincing the world and very often each other, that the sky would not fall if this happened - ordinary (conditions, of course, very much apply) is good. The sky has not fallen, world wars have not been waged and almost everyone involved has adapted and moved on remarkably well. Makes me wonder if sometimes we feed our fears more that we should.
On the other hand (there is always the other hand, isnt there), ordinary also means we havent done any life altering things we dreamed we would, if only we could get past the waiting. Mainly because we havent figured out what the hell that thing is. Also, life can keep you occupied very easily, so unless you explicitly set out to do things (with a vengeance, almost), they will not get done.

Except this. I am, right now, in a hotel in Zurich, typing out this post.


Edited to add: I realized i havent actually written anything about the day itself. Which was not the point, but could have found a mention! It was a good one. Last year this time we were the talk of the town, but this year not one friend remembered. Which is not at all surprising. As genuinely excited as i am about my friends getting married, i rarely remember their anniversaries. Relatives remembered though, almost all of them! I had left my phone alone for half an hour in the morning and when i got back to it there were 7 missed calls. That never happens to me, not even on my birthday! Relatives i tell you, rock hard when required.

The dude took me to a Reliance Digital store and asked me to pick the gaming console i wanted. My eyes grew wide and I grinned like mad and then ran away from the shop terrified. He almost bought me an xbox! Imagine! (Apparently, i can be hard to get, but damn easy to please). In return, I almost bought him an ipad. And we lived happily ever after.

Office tales

Inappropriate for you if you are too young or an old, impressionable relative. You have been warned.

There are lots of people from Pune in this office. (I still dont call it "my" office... hmm). Probably the second biggest demographic, after the millions of Keralites. Some discussion sprouts about the Chitale Bandhu near Deccan and as people join in, I discovered more and more people from my city. This one guy says - yeah i am from Pune, i even know Marathi. And then to prove that he really does, says - "Naahi kaka, daaru naahi, fakta cigarette peeli aahe" and i laugh. Someone asks him - what is fakta, to which he explains it means only (sirf). And they share this smile which i dont get at all. The guy continues - sometimes outside toilets there, you find a sign that says "fakta ladies".

It takes a few seconds for me to get it, but oh boy when i do, my world changes. Literally, I can never use that word now without giggling. It was just lying there all this time, waiting for the right pair of eyes to see.

"Gym" tales

The office has a gym. If you can call a room with two treadmills and two ellipticals that looks as if it was built for just that much a gym. I obviously can. This is the story of me and that gym.

A few months ago, my body was threatening to outgrow my most unflattering of clothes. I whined about it and the dude denied everything (he was glad of the opportunity to deny it in person, its sort of difficult to convincingly tell a person on chat – no, no, of course not, you are not growing fat). BUT, clothes don’t lie. So I decided to hit the above mentioned gym. But you cant keep yourself entertained for very long with just treadmills, ellipticals, a radio station that plays more ads than songs and a radio that goes silent every 30 seconds. So I improvised.

• I played songs on my phone. But it is difficult to keep up the tempo when Bob Dillan is asking you in that tone– How many roads must a man walk down…
• I tried aerobics on the gym floor. To radio ads. Not fun.
• I tried using stuff lying around the gym as weights. Worked brilliantly for a while. These metal things that are used to wall mount TVs? Very good for bicpes and triceps! But then someone had to come and mount the TV. 
• Which was good! So many channels! Non-stop songs! And so much increase in general knowledge. The storage layer in my brain now accommodates Chikni Chameli, Jalebi Bai and Disco going Anarkali. How else could I have met these delightful people?
• I raided the room next door for potential weights. Drums – nope, chairs – nope, drum stool – yay, Cisco APs – double yay! Took two of them. And giggled all the time I was exercising with them, thinking about what I used to do with Cisco APs in my past life. Feedback to Cisco, if anyone is listening – those white APs you make? Not so good for biceps. Put on a couple of kgs and then we’ll talk.
• Next day the drum room is locked. So I look around once more and spot the weighing machine. The one that consistently shows my weight as 23 kgs (damn it, did someone buy the moon-weight machine again?) I pick it up – perfect for biceps!
• I try filled up water bottles, they start out okay, don’t work so well after I have drunk half their weight.

I proudly reported all my innovations to the dude, who, probably in a desperate attempt to stop further conversation on the subject, told me to lift his nephew* for biceps. Which I couldn’t, he is too heavy, what with all the milk he has. Finally, the dude threatened to buy me a box of weights. Which would be really weird, I mean, imagine me dragging a handbag, a laptop bag, a clothes bag, a shoe bag AND a box of weights from the car to the gym. I begged and got a couple of days from him to see if I can make better arrangements. I mailed the office facilities and they said they’ll have the weights by the end of the week. See?? Poochne mein kya jaata hai!

From Monday, it’ll be back to mindless gymming. Who knows though, if someday someone forgets to lock the drum room…

　

*That little fellow may be growing up on the weirdest lullabys ever. After singing ba ba black sheep in all variations I could think of (Ba ba pink sheep, yes sir yes sir, 7 bags full. Ba ba the sheep still ended up distributing 3 bags full only, my head cannot do the distribution math AND sing at the same time, it can however generate a random number between one and 10), I was found singing the national anthem to him. He got all patriotic and "stood" in attention and refused to sleep. People laughed. I don’t know any songs – I whined. Whats wrong with Sheela ki Jawani – the Dude. I ignored him and sang Saare Jahan se Achcha. Even after I had assured him that Hindi hai hum (3 times) and vatan hai hindustaan hamara, he refused to sleep. I had a nagging suspicion that the problem may not be with the content but with the delivery, but I killed it.

Lessons (i wish) driving has taught me

Sometimes when someone right ahead of you is driving as if the road belongs to him, honk! It is very possible he isn’t aware he is blocking you, it is possible he is a nice guy and will move, it is of course also possible he is an ass and will ignore you or that he is doing it on purpose, but poochne mein kya jaata hai?
(Mera poochne mein bahut kuch jaata hai. It is surprising the lengths to which I will go just to avoid asking. )

Its only when you drive a two wheeler after you’ve been driving a car for a while, that you appreciate the freedom and flexibility it gives you! I have become a much more effective "activa driver" since I started taking out the car. Reminds me of this story my mom used to tell us. Maybe I should re-visit bikes, now that gears are not the scary things they used to be.

(Anyone wants to volunteer their bike? Dude’s bike is ancient and requires special handling and Bhai’s bike is huge and also requires special handling).

And lastly, second gear is the man! I have no idea of the broader applicability of that lesson in life, but in driving, it has made all the difference. I am a better driver because of it. Last week for the first time I had a non-family passenger in the car and he didn’t jump off the car or close his eyes and pray or anything! He just sat there talking and giving directions and though I haven’t officially asked for his feedback, I hereby declare another milestone crossed.

Dress the part

(Look who is back! Angsty Aunty – say hi and tell her you  missed her, wont you?)

If you must crap all over my life, I don’t know why you must but I’m sure you have your reasons, can you please not be so nice while doing it? It makes everything much simpler if the bad guys come with an eye patch and an evil laugh and sinister background score. I simply do not know what to do with people who stand squarely in my way, don’t let me go ahead and then with genuine concern feed me so I don’t feel hungry. Until I can get super powers enough to reform the bad guys or beat them to pulp, can they please dress the part? Thank you.

Car, tissues etc

(Random writing again, but how many posts can you call random and what would be the point?)

Car driving goes well (people actually asked me, and here i thought no one cared. sniff). I had gotten pretty comfortable with the whole thing, stopped being a hazard as well as a nuisance, when i realized i was still driving barefoot! Time to cross that bridge, one tiny step at a time. Day 1 with socks - no big deal. Day 2 with chappals. And i went back to being a nuisance - all late starts and jerky driving. Why am i on the bridge at all, i wondered, whats so wrong with driving barefoot? I tried and failed to think of emergencies where i would have to drive with footwear on, or the world would go to pieces. But i guess we are programmed to see things to completion, so i soldiered on. Day 3 was with shoes. Much better, contrary to expectations. Monday i should try military boots?

I have a big problem with the casual use of tissues. Especially to wipe wet hands, i mean can you imagine the waste? Every time someone washes their hands, they waste paper. I see myself becoming some kind of Hermione, starting a Society for Prevention of Overuse of Tissues that no one cares about. Until one day, right in the middle of a world threatening emergency, a certain someone washes his hands and doesnt use a tissue. And we forget the world and live happily ever after. Oh wait, i'm married now. So its going to have to be the dude who does the deed.

My inner voice (by which i just mean the voice in my head, not my conscience) has now occasionally started talking in Telugu. Which is bizarre since hello, i dont understand what it is saying! Its been almost a year since i've been surrounded by Telugu speaking people speaking Telugu, and yet i think i understand about 30%. I never imagined i'd be so slow in picking up a language. Although, i have almost the entire cipher text in my head, the day i find the decryption key will be the day i know it all!

A nice round number

Today I turn 6 bits old.

WTF.

What a good book can do

My reading has gone down considerably since you know what happened and i moved to Bangalore. I might have mentioned somewhere that the dude found a stack of Science fiction/Fantasy books that i drooled all over. Turns out i might have spent more time drooling than actually reading. It started off well, i finished The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms and it was good. Then i moved on to Stranger in a Strange Land, a book i had heard so much about, an author i had heard so much about. I was prepared to love it, even if that meant changing the meaning of love! It was... boring. Not that it didnt have its moments, but the signal to noise ratio was too low, and all the signal got over pretty fast. I trawled through it and then moved on to The Windup Girl. What with the Hugo and all, i'd wanted to read it for ever. But, it was taking too much of effort, and instead of reading becoming relaxing and invigorating (yes, it can be both at the same time), it became something to check off a list - did i read something this week? Tick.
Some neurons in my head decided to go all dramatic, and proposed the theory that maybe the problem is not with the book, that maybe reading doesnt mean that much anymore, that maybe you know what has changed that too. (i know, no one proposes theories with so many maybes, but these are my neurons, for me sometimes, even my name is Vinaya, maybe).
One fine Wednesday afternoon at work, i found a book lying on my neighbours desk. I cant pass a book by without investigating, so i picked it up. Saw the name Papadimitriou, remembered a professor from long ago mentioning him, and maybe even a textbook, and opened it to find a comic book! It was Logicomix - a comic book about the search for a solid foundation for Mathematics! I took it to my desk, and that is all i did for the rest of the day at work - read it*. Somewhere in between, i looked up, smiled at the world in general and felt really glad to be alive. That is what a good book can do.



* Do not ask me at what stage i got so comfortable with the new surroundings to be able to do something like that in full public eye. I have a hundred justifications as to why i did it, but even after 5 years at the last workplace, i couldnt have done it there. Maybe you know what also gives you a thick skin!

Baby on board

Nope, not ours. Thought we've recently done the 9 months so that wouldnt be so much a scandal as a surprise not to mention, well, never mind. The dude's sister has had a baby and he is home! In all his pink glory! We got him all kinds of pink stuff too, thus throwing in our lot with this little girl.

All he does so far is
- sleep at the wrong time
- wake up at the wrong time
- distribute all fingers he can find all over his face. At ant given point he usually has two in his mouth, one up his nose, one trying to dig out his eye and a couple inside his ears. As if, if he doesnt hold his organs together, they will leave him and run away.

But. I love little kids., always have. (Ask her, i dreamt of their kid being a musical prodigy and singing patriotic songs before i even saw him). Plus, i get to be this little one's maami. When i was a little kid, maami == fun. She taught us games and sometimes even played with us when no one was watching, who gave us birthday gifts, who i was surprisingly comfortable with, given how awkward i was around most others, probably because she lived next door for most of my life. Unfortunately, these folks have a different naming convention and so, though the dude becomes a mama, i become an athai. Not that there is anything wrong with athai, athais are fun too, but i am already athai to 3 kids (all of whom call me by name, but you dont know that, do you) and this is the only kid in the universe who can call me maami. My master plan involves bribing the kid until he calls me just that. Or Vinaya.

I wish he would grow up enough to have a name. Until then he be Babloo* to me. And then grow up enough to smile. And crawl. And walk. And talk. Basically hurry up, become interesting and then stay there!


* If you are the dude or Monu or anyone who studied under Anne Joseph Madam at KVGK, shut up about the history of that name, will you?

The end

of the year, haha. I am not going anywhere, sorry to dash your hopes.

Yesterday was my first 12 hour day at work, which means i'm settling in? I'm not, though, and when people ask me i tell them nope, not settled yet and then they dont know where to look. All crazy people, lots and lots of Malayalees (not my fault if you correlate the two). The only reason i mention that again is that my inner voice now speaks with a Malayalee accent. Most irritating it is (its not personal, you understand, Malayalee accent is one of my favourites), but its my inner voice, you know. This one time when i was ODing on American TV shows, my inner voice switched to an American accent. I was terrified it would come out and then I would be one of the people with an unnecessary accent that i laugh at.

My back has given up again, i cant wear a helmet without feeling that my head will wobble off. So on most days, the car it is. And since the dude refuses to get a music system for it, i drive to my inner voice running a live commentary on the idiocy of my fellow travelers. The mad way they honk and yell if i take 2 seconds to start my car - oh shut up &#^^%$ dont you remember a time when you were just starting to drive? Or if they wait patiently for me to move - dont you patronize me you *&^@*$&^, if i'm being a nuisance, tell me. All in a Malayalee accent. Fun.

I have today and Monday off, i didnt ask why. It just stopped drizzling and the weather is glorious. There is a cook who is doing the cooking (she speaks English! I dont know how to process that). No one has asked me about "new year plans". Life, is good.

One week later

Well, it only been 3 days, but i'm not complaining! Weekends are most welcome anytime. (In theory. In practice, i still dont know what to do with them.)

Bullet points (since i'm all over the place and dont think coherence will come)

- Teething troubles, as expected. Although at the end of day 1, i did get to get home the best laptop i've ever had! Which, if you've met the laptops i've had, is not saying much. I'll try that again. At the end of day 1, i got to get home a good laptop.

- I'm like a small town girl seeing the big city sights for the first time, as far as free stuff in the office is concerned. It'll be a while before i get used to It'll be a while before i stop grinning stupidly at my laptop or the headphones or the rows and rows of biscuits or the fruits or the fridge.

- They have two buildings across the street from one another. There is the safe boring way of crossing over (by taking the overhead bridge) and the unsafe interesting way that involves crossing the two halves of MG road and climbing over 3 feet walls and wading through trash. Obviously, i do the interesting. The problem is, the moment i stand at the side of the road, all autowallas in the vicinity rush to me, because obviously a girl will not be stupid enough to try to cross over. I have to keep shaking my head at them.

- Did you know that autos and rickshaws are two different things? I use them interchangeably, and if i had a rupee for every time someone explained to me that rickshaws are a thing of the past, well, i'd probably be able to buy a polo.

- People in the office are actually friendly. Which is unexpected. When confronted with a new joinee, my natural reaction is to ignore them and nod politely when ignoring is no longer viable. Under no circumstances do i try small talk, because i run out of it after sentence two and then we are in a far more awkward position that before. Of all the things that terrify me in life, running out of things to say is pretty high up on the list.

- People in the office are also Malayalee. And given that i absorb accents and mannerisms like a sponge, you will very soon find me speaking Tamil with a Telugu accent, Telugu with a Tamil accent and English with a Malayalee accent.

- People in the office also think nothing of singing Kolaveri out loud for no particular reason.

- I still need a gym.

Employed

This doesnt feel like news, but since i announced my impending unemployment from rooftops and then went on and on about it, driving a van with a loudspeaker through your head, i suppose i should also say that i have a job. From tomorrow, i'll be bringing home the bacon. (Which, if taken literally, might be as useful as the money i bring. No one seems to want my money. Not even me).

So, yes, job. I cant get excited about it. Probably because the process was crap. And it didnt exactly end well. But, its taught me stuff. Never again am i going to be so unprepared that i will need two months just to get confident enough to go for an interview. I now know that i am not as bad at them as i thought i would be. Oh, there are things i need to get better at, and this process has shone the spotlight on them, for which i am grateful. But as the dude says, this is only the beginning.

What the hell is wrong with me i dont know. I was more cheerful when i was unemployed!

On flying

Confession: If you get the feeling that the crap here is crappier than usual, you might not be entirely wrong. I get the feeling that i have lowered my blogable-material threshold. This might be because i happened to look at the blog archive and discovered that this is my worst year, quantity wise. Or it might be because i am jobless. Whichever it is, kindly adjust.

In all my life i have never flown as much as i have flown this year. (Hell, i have probably never traveled as much as i have this year). What all that frequent flying* has done is make me realize another aspect of the awesomeness of trains. See, if i  were traveling to Bangalore by train, it'd take me 18 hours or so to get me here. All the time in the world to get used to the idea that i am going to a different city, different people. I'll have time to mentally prepare myself to be Vinaya@Bangalore. Whereas by flight, all i get is an hour and a half, and i spend most of that sleeping. I've done this to and fro so many times now, but even now i lose about a day orienting myself to my new surroundings. Instead of feeling i belong to two places***, for a day or two, i feel like i belong nowhere. 


* This travel website says i get a free ipad** if i make two more bookings with them by the end of the year! Not that i particularly want an ipad, but for free? I'll take your used chappals also happily.

** An ipad has casually entered at made itself at home at my Pune-home. I dont know when we became those people. In fact when i landed, my dad opened the door with the ipad in hand! He had been trying to book flight tickets for his 82 year old friend. I took it from like a big know it all, booked the ticket, and then discovered that there is no way to print the ticket from it. Not a big deal, you want to tell me, you can get tickets printed at the airport, but try convincing an 82 year old to go to the airport without a ticket. Not happening without DNA transplant. I called up bhai to yell at him (all Apply product failures he is of course personally responsible for), but he got extremely defensive and asked me to shut up and throw the ipad away if i didnt like what it did.

*** Reminds me of my second favourite story about this cousin of mine. When she was young, she went and demanded of her mother - "why do you call my father's mom and dad as mom and dad? Dont you have your own mom and dad?" To which her mom explained that after marriage, women get two sets of parents. She digested that for a bit and came back with - "So if i marry two people, i'll get three sets of parents??"

I want my money back!

Statutory warning: Rant. I wash my hands off it. Take it seriously at your own peril.

Its not fair. Not only does he get to be in another country, he gets to meet long lost friends like the Statue of Liberty and this madam, who then proceeds to invite him for lunch! Whereas me, who hasnt seen her since 2006 and the statue of liberty since forever, gets to sit in the same old country and there is no way to end that sentence without including positive things about my life right now, which would take away from the sting of the rant, so i'm going to put a full stop right about now. There. And my friends, who made me write teary eyed farewell mails, who gave me goodbye cards with heartfelt wishes (like - "good luck wishes"), who insisted they will miss me, who havent seen me for a whole month now, cant even decide whether to meet me for breakfast! (Aaha! Lightbulb! So this is what "you will be missed" means - even if you come back and we have a chance to meet, we will miss meeting you. Hmpf). I have decided to drown my sorrows by watching Rockstar and Tintin. I tried getting some nephews and nieces and cousins to come along, but somewhere between the time i was in 10th standard and now, watching a movie that will go away in another week at the most has become less urgent than studying for board exams more than 3 months away. To top it all off, i have the prospect of an interview or four hanging on my head ALL THE TIME. It all depends on how well the guy i sent some code to two days ago (two days ago! how long does it take to look at code, yo?) likes it, and so if i were to be the prudent and responsible version of me, i should be preparing for the future i want, not whining about the present that isnt.



P.S. I couldnt tell you what my 10th standard was like in the rant, because again, it wasnt fitting in with the theme. Mine was a wake up at 5 a.m. everyday to study kind of 10th standard. I dont know what i did waking up at 5, but whatever it was it didnt feel like enough. There were rumours of this guy in the other section who woke up at 3.30 to study. And who had already finished the syllabus by August or some such ridiculously early month. TV and movies were things that happened to other people. But, good times all the same.

The folks less travelled: Coonoor

I have a confession to make. More to myself than to anyone else. I'm not a travel person. I love the idea of getting away from it all, for sometime being someone else someplace else, who doesnt, but the actual details of when to go where to go how to go put me off. To top it off, the husband (who shall hereafter be called the dude) is the kind of person who needs all reservations signed in triplicate. And my meticulousness stops miles before that stage, i can take off on the promise of a bed and breakfast. In short, details are the devil.

I'd been toying around with the idea of going somewhere for a few weeks. More by accident than design, i'd been traveling every month since i got married and September was about to end and i hadnt gone anywhere! I couldnt just let that be. So i bought out my 52 weekend destinations in Bangalore and flipped through the pages looking for possibilities. I skipped past Ooty several times, i mean, such a cliche, but then i remembered Bhai (who shall hereafter be called Bhai) raving about this place near Ooty he'd been to with Black Swan. I called him for details and he got terribly excited and all i could make out was Coonoor! Jose! Kotagiri! He had Shishir call me some time later who was fortunately more coherent. He gave me a few options and then asked if Bhai had talked to me about Jose's place in Coonoor. I said he might have been trying to. Shishir said, its a homestay, one of the best. A bit over your budget, but unbeatable. He went as far as to say if you dont like it, i'll refund your costs! I called up Bhai, who was still not very coherent. For his sake, we decided to go to Jose's.

And ooh my God. Whenever anyone tells you about Jose's, they will probably tell you the same thing. Its a house on top of a hill. With a 360 degrees view. During the day you can see green hills all around. And during the night, you can see lights from 3 different cities - Coonoor, Ooty and Kotagiri, each on their own hill. But words dont do justice to the view. At least mine wont, so i'll just say its unbelievable and stop at that.

We reached there in the afternoon. After a delicious lunch cooked by Jose's wife Sindhu, we made big plans of what to do with our two days. We decided to go see the dam after a short nap and then go down to Coonoor. Right. Overnight journey followed by awesome lunch, short nap indeed! And to top it off, it started to rain a few minutes after we went into our room. I cannot tell you how much i love lying on a bed just staring out at the falling rain. Apparently not more than i love to sleep, though. When we woke up, it was evening. So we ditched the dam and went to Coonoor. Lower Coonoor was noisy and crowded so we escaped to Upper Coonoor. Walked around and had random things for dinner. Jose picked us up on his way back from somewhere and deposited us home. Where hot Ooty tea and roasted cashews were waiting for us. We stayed out for a very long time, enjoying the distant city lights, the silence, the night sky (this is where the dude introduced me to Google Sky and for the first time, i fell in love with an App), and each others company.

The next day was the day of the dam. We overslept. Again. But that didnt stop us from going on pre-breakfast walk down the hill. Got back and did full justice to Sindhu's appam and stew. And then we set off for the dam. Despite asking for directions from many people, we just couldnt find the damn thing. But everything was so pretty, we really didnt mind. Finally, following authoritative directions from some locals, we followed a track in the woods. And came across a clearing where a really tall tree had gone horizontal. There it was, lying across the way, welcoming one and all to sit on it. And we did. Well, the dude did. I lay down on it, looking up at the blue sky, at other gently swaying trees, who to tell you the truth, appeared slightly drunk. And i learnt that i need to learn to shut up at such moments. Every few seconds I'd get terribly excited, grin like crazy, shake the dude and tell him - this is so awesome!

We had to leave. Much too soon. We did see the dam and few monkeys but it was an anti-climax. We got back, picked up our stuff and said goodbye to Jose, Sindhu, their two boys and the star of the trip - their home. I wont tell you the story of their home, it is much more interesting hearing it from them, but i'll tell you this - it showed me the difference between constructing a house and building a home.

Interviews!

Prospective employers seem to read my blog. (Which may not be such a good thing in the long run, but i'm going to pretend this run is short). The interviews have begun! Just got back from my first job interview in 9 years and my throat is dry and my body parts are shaking and i cut and ate a whole musk melon by myself but all that only shows that i am alive, right?

The dude has flown to the US for god knows what so i am home alone. (Well, as alone as you can be with a houseful of people). But as long as there are interviews to prepare for, (i dont want to say the next part but its true) who cares? All i do is use him as a cheat sheet for questions i am stuck at, and that i can do with him sitting there too. I really really want this phase to end so we can start figuring out what to do with "free time".

Okay, i will now go bury my head in the Internet and prepare for the next one. Wish me luck, y'all!

I might regret this

Dear prospective employers,

I write this to you just in case you are not sold on my loaded with awesomeness resume (which seems to be the case, not even an interview call, what the hell is going on?). I really need a job for the following reasons:

1. I need a free gym to go to
The ones around me are insanely expensive and not suited to my lifestyle which at least until now included long vacations trips to Pune. I am bloating up! And i have never been great at the do it at home yourself kind. Come to think of it, the only kind that has worked for me is the kind where i pay through my nose, so i'd rather not think of it.

2. The kitchen needs to see less of me
Really. All sorts of things have been happening to it since i got here. I have been explaining them away as coincidences and unfortunate accidents but i think suspicions have take root.

3. I need to not get used to afternoon sleep.
See, you will employ me, one day or another. Better do it now before i get used to afternoon sleep and spend two months on the job trying to get rid of the habit.

4. I need a social life.
Well, i dont really feel the need for it, which is scarier if you ask me. So, gimme people before i give up on them altogether and become a kitchen hermit. Please.

I hope this letter argues for my case better than my resume did.

Thanking you,
Yours sincerely,

Vinaya


P.S. I hope this letter finds you in good health and cheer.

Random

Metallica was here yesterday. So was bhai on his bullet. Guess which of them i got to see. I did briefly consider going to see the band, but when i couldnt name any song other than Nothing Else Matters, i decided to leave them alone and stay at home. One concert, one live concert is all i'm asking of you, stupid Bengalooru! That, and a job, of course.
On the same day, i graduated to playing songs on the keyboard. Sun oye Metallica, you might have a lead, but its not going to take me very long to catch up. Twinkle, twinkle little star, i will rock you like you have never been rocked before! As soon as i figure out which finger goes where.

The job hunt is not going places. I alternate between telling myself i will be patient (its only been a week) and applying for a delivery job at the nearby Dominoes. Which i might not get, given my knowledge, or lack thereof, of the streets of this city. Its all 5th Cross and 6th Main and oh, how i miss names like Vainu Bappu marg and the 2 Senapati Bapat roads i crossed to get to work.

The kindle is back in action! A huge collection of ebooks has been discovered by the dude, and if only i didnt turn into such a complete wreck at the very idea of giving interviews, i would right now be deep into one of them. Or many of them, i cant pick! I want all! But, no. As soon as i am done with this post, i shall go back to K&R. Which is why you might find me rambling a bit more than prudent.

I dont remember when i last read K&R, but i have underlined and drawn stars and written things in pencil all over it. Most of those things i now know, so it makes me feel like the years have added up to something, after all. I may not have bought about world peace, or improved lives or even figured out what to do with mine, but i do know why *++argv works. And you cant take that away from me.

I am going to, today, for the first time ever, lads and lasses, get a car out on my own and go pick up the dude! Wish me luck, wish the car luck, wish Bangalore luck, but most of all, wish him luck!