I think

Typepad is being a pain in the rear?

Is there any reason typepad has been consistently down during the (Indian) daytime and on during (Indian) nights for the past few days?

Do others have this problem too? Note that the Indian daytime is approximately American Night time and vice versa and regions in between these two fall in different parts of the day and night.

If this state of affairs continues, I might move bag and baggage elsewhere.

What's wrong with typepad?

I am unable to open the full editor in typepad. I don't like this minimal editor. Anyone else with the same problem?

Four days

..is all I can abstain from the internet, it seems.    The vacation stupour is being slowly replaced by this nagging whisper of the one-word mantra somewhere at the rear of the brain - "deadline".   I have been subdueing this voice with self-inflicted inertia, but the voice is getting stronger and I am sure by the time I am back home middle of next week, it would play on Dolby stereo surround sound.

But then, let me enjoy the now.  With whisper and all.  

In many ways, my extended family is cool (is there something I should do to ward off the evil eye here?).  When I visit my own parents' home, my eighty something old grandmom pampers me like I were still her grandchild in knickers. When I visit my in-laws', they, contrary to popular belief, let me sleep-in well into the A.M.  The only reason I wake up is that the darn bladder wouldn't let me sleep any more.  By the time the teeth are brushed, the coffee is ready at the table, and all kinds of lovely aromas waft in from the kitchen.  

One of my friends recently asked me why I keep spending every vacation at Srirangam, instead of taking an exciting or romantic trip elsewhere.   As  I sip a glass of ice cold ilaneer derived from coconuts harvested from the home trees, delivered to me where I am sitting, by my mother-in-law, who reminds me of my plans to visit to my favourite temple today, I find my choice amply justified.

The kid and I make a pact before every vacation. That we would stay off each other's hair from the moment we board the train.  Apart from the few hours at night where she MUST sleep, and the few minutes spent in nourishment and santiation activities, the kid and her local friend have not let the Srirangam sun go waste. When I was like her, my parents and aunts/uncles would wonder what my cousin and I would do all day together, oblivious to the world around.   It seemed a stupid question to ask then, but now, I wonder the same thing of this kid. The kids are either running around the house, making a colossal racket, or making mud pies and cakes or throwing water at each other, and in general, living the moment to the extreme.  I am thankful that she is able to enjoy this part of life as well, she will carry these memories as she grows up.

Dude gets into a different groove the moment he enters his childhood home -  the home built into his memories. I see in him, a very different person - a relaxed, comfortable and at-home person and I know that when we leave, he'll leave this part of him behind.   Hopefully this recharge will work until the next visit.

As for me, apart from the intense physical relaxation that vacation offers me, Srirangam takes me to a different plane of existence.  The fact that this is perhaps the place that I would spend the sunset years of my life gives it a mystical aura.  But beyond hopes of the future, just a walk around the main temple, by myself, taking in the sea of humanity, watching little dramas of life unfold, and just being there, is an experience so far removed from daily life filled with actions arising from responsibility and reason. I know that the life of purposefull activity is just a few days away, and one that I have deliberately chosen and enjoy in its own right, but now, what exists is just this moment.  The air is hot, the windchimes tinkle, I am blogging, my father-in-law is lying on the bare floor, snoring, his son, next to him, eyes closed and mouth smiling, my daughter is burying dead spiders (!), the  mother-in-law is reading ananda vikatan, there is hot kunukku on the dining table, and life couldn't be more peaceful.

There are loads of photos in the cell phone. One of these days I will upload them. Perhaps I'll write more..perhaps less.  But the memories have been captured in mind's amber more vividly than this blog and the cell phone camera and that will keep me going for a while.

 

 

 

 

Summer

It seems that sun god is planning to make up for last year's leniency in our part of the world.  The famed Tamil Agni Nakshatram or Kathri season  begins tomorrow (4th, May) and the past few days have been a glorious preview of what to expect in the next fortnight.

I am a summer person.  I can take any amount of heat.  Or, I can convince myself that I can take any amount of heat.  The moment I feel uncomfortable and irritated with the heat, I automatically remember the few years in Syracuse winter, especially incidents such as this, and I am ready to go dancing in the blazing sun.  A friend and I would argue about which is better - hers being, there is no limit to the number of layers of clothes you can wear on yourself to warm up, but there is a definite limit to the number of clothes you can take off to feel cool.  My argument was that it is much easier to cool both inside and outside the body with something as simple as water, but no matter how many clothes you wear, your nose and eyes need to be bare, and just that much skin exposed to -30 can even kill you. Of course,  this friend was born and bred in upstate New York, while I belong to the tropical paradise of Chennai, so there was nothing unexpected in our viewpoints.

Each region develops its own defense against nature's elements with time.  For example, fatty meat and alcohol are staple in cold countries because of the warmth they offer.  We have our own traditional defense mechanisms.  A few minutes back, we had a dinner of cold dadhyodhanam, a simple curd rice, garnished with cucumber, carrots, mango, cilantro and mustard.  As the first mouthful of the rice reached the stomach,  the body sighed at a perceptible cooling that resulted.

In the afternoon, the kid and I, not wishing to waste sun god's bounty, chose to check out South Asia's largest library, located a hop, skip and jump away from home.  On our way back, we walked and walked for what seems like kilometers, in search of a bus stop.  What saved us and a lot of people like us from sure heat stroke were the many vendors lined along the sidewalk, selling ilaneer (tender coconut water) and water melon.    When we sipped the refreshing drink, straight from its shell, I realized that while coke and pepsi can hoard the "kewl" factor, they can never come anywhere near a simple ilaneer for true "cool"ness.

The only thing that bugs me about our lifestyle in this hot weather is the clothes we traditionally wear.  I suppose "traditionally" is a wrong word to use here, because before the ancient foreign invaders corrupted us with their personal standards of morality, our clothes, as can be seen in the many sculptures in traditional temples, were skimpy. Of course, even if you factor in an element of hyperbole for erotica in art, reality would not have been too far off.   As seen in the sculptures,  both men and women were bare chested, and wore wispy pieces of cloth at their hips. 

Then came the Muslim and British conquest of India. The chest became a bad part of the body that needed to be covered and now, here we are, wearing neck-to-ankle covered salwar kameez or the modern 5 meter saree draped multiple times around the body, with its many layers of blouse/underskirts/underwear underneath.

If the ancient invasions ruined our dress habits that were designed so well to face the tropical weather of the country,  the recent invasion by the West has replaced our natural food habits that were designed to suit the weather here.  So, now pizza, coke and junk food have replaced dadhyodhanam, neer mor and panagam, and we walk in and out of air conditioned enclosures, thereby muddling the hypothalamus and messing the body's natural response to heat.

At least the ancient invasions were by force. The newer invasions have been by our own choice.  There is nothing wrong with adopting alien practices, but when it messes up with our natural proclivity, we need to think and act. 

With that highly egotistical statement I conclude, wishing co-Tamil Nadu dwellers a safe Kathri season.

Stay cool.

 

 

Like it, like it not

In the course of a conversation, dude asked the seven year old kid to list activities she likes, and those that she does not, in order of importance (see her blog post here).  Her likes were more than her dislikes, and she took longer to think up the dislikes than the likes.

As a digression, "boys" don't qualify as an activity in my eyes, but she had them in her dislike list and "monkeys" belong to the same list - go figure.

That set me thinking.  Off the top of my head, I could list activities I dislike far more easily than those that I like.  The first activities on my "like list" came out instantaneously and of course, I pursue them even now, so they probably qualify as "passion". I had to think a bit on the rest on the list, and realised that I don't pursue them regularly in the humdrum of daily existence. I need to find time to do the things I like but have not really not been doing.

Some of my dislikes are very strong - qualifiable by "hate" rather than dislike.   So, here is my list.

THINGS I LIKE TO DO (in the order in which I like them)

1. Writing

2. Reading

3. Drawing/painting

4. Playing volleyball

5. Handwashing clothes

6. Singing

7. Spending time in the beach by myself, sitting on the sand, watching waves come and go.

8. Doing artwork with my kid.

THINGS I DON’T LIKE TO DO

1. Cooking (that activity alone qualifies as "hating" "detesting" etc.)

2. Talking

3. Arguing

4. Watching television

5. Attending parties

6. Shopping

A few years back, when I started blogging, there was a practice of "tagging".  For newbies in the blog world, it was a process by which a blogger tagged a fellow blogger to write about something in particular in his/her own blog. The "taggee" will, at the end of her post on the tagged topic,  in turn tag other bloggers she knows and the tag would thus grow as a meme. I am not sure if the practice is still alive, and if it isn't let me attempt to resurrect it.

Those that visit here and have blogs of your own, consider yourselves tagged.  List the activities you like and dislike.  You cannot spend more than 2 minutes per list. If possible link back to the blog that tagged you.

 

 

Cookalogue: Yogi or Rogi? The Choice is yours.

The ocean of milk that yielded the elixir of immortality also produced the halahala. While food can be medicine, it can also be a scourge to the human body. Bad eating practices can make the body and mind vulnerable to a wide range of diseases - as a tamil song goes - eating one meal makes you a yogi (saint), two makes you a bhogi (connoisseur), three meals make you a rogi (diseased) and four meals make you a drogi (wastrel).[...]

via cookalogue.blogspot.com

News and Views

News item in the local newspaper today:

[...]

Facebook has, well, virtually changed the way people connected.

[...]

 

Total population of the world today: 6.9 billion

Total people in the world with internet: 2 billion (=29%)

Total people with internet who are on facebook: 0.5 billion (=25% of internet users, 7.25% of entire population)

According to facebook, 50% of facebook users login daily - 0.25 billion login daily (=3.6% of entire population).

Facebook has, well, virtually changed the way 3.6% of world's people connected.

Just to put things in perspective,

Total number of people below poverty line (<$1.25/day):  1.4 billion (=20.3 % of world's population)

Number of people in the world that suffer from malnutrition: 0.5 billion (yes, the same number of people who use facebook) (=7.25%)

And here we are, writing 20 words about how social networking changed our life, to gain tickets to the premier show of "The Social Network", whose tag line apparently is "You don't get to 500 million friends without making a few enemies", which in plain speak translates to "It is ok to screw up a few people to win 500 million users".

Sigh. I wish I had a switch that turns off my brain the moment the word "facebook" comes into my line of vision.

 

Ramble

On my way to pick up the kids from school, I stopped at our pet bakery to buy some snacks for them. While waiting for the cashier to fix his mal-functioning printer for the bill, I sat at the adjoining cafe. 

A girl, probably in her twenties ( I cannot guess people's ages from their looks anymore), was seated at the table opposite me.  She had a plate of blackforest in front of her, a cup of coffee next to it, a Daniel Steel in her hand and the most intent look on her face as she was halfway through the book.

That moment I knew what "dimensions" was all about.  This girl was in a whole different dimension from mine.  It was as if our worlds are mutually exclusive and all I can do is look at her like I would do, an alien. 

I have been through that dimension. I have visions of myself sitting for hours in Borders (and later, Barnes and Nobles) with a cup of cheese cake, Irish coffee and a book at hand.  Was it really me ? Or was it a dream?  Did my day have that many hours in the past?  If so, what happened to them?  Why is it that when I sit with a book now, just after the first page,I am worrying about the tiffin I should make in the evening and the elusive proposal idea, obsessing about the milk I forgot to curdify, the empty pantry,  the clothes that have to be brought in before the rain,  the logistics of the next project presentation and the vessels in the sink that needed washing more than the Wodehouse needed reading ?

Is it just me?  Dude can still get lost in his book (or whatever else he is doing) sans distraction.  Am I naturally scatter brained as I am now, or is this the collateral damage of responsibilities that I willingly took?    Or perhaps , it is a female instinct? 

When I saw that girl at Adyar Bakery, I thought to myself - one day, I will do just that. Leave my cell phone at home, not even boot my computer, leave the kid with the dude, and spend hours somewhere, just sipping coffee and doing nothing.  I doubt if I can do it, but no harm dreaming, what?

 

Typepad's future?

It seems SixApart has been acquired by VideoEgg and will cease to exist.  Does anyone know what would become of Typepad?

I was just getting comfortable with typepad. Thankfully I still have my wordpress blog for backup..but I'd like to know if typepad is on shaky grounds. I'd like to switch before I am kicked out unceremoniously like last time.

Mylapore Musings

You don't even realise how much of a rush life has become until one fine morning, you do something different, purely by chance, that you have not done in years.

Having had three months of non-stop deadlines that took a temporary break yesterday with the delivery of a first draft document to a client, the mind clamored for a break from daily routine.  So, when the mother-in-law asked if I would like to accompany her for "Kolu shopping", I jumped at it.  Bad idea in that it is a couple of weeks too early for kolu and the tam-bram bastion of Mylapore is just about waking up to the festival, so we did not really have the variety to choose from.  However the commute was an eyeopener.

Being at the awkward time, too early to reach the destination, but too late to take the detour to the in-laws' house to join them before they started, I decided to take the local metropolitan bus to Mylapore and wait for them there.  The last time I boarded the bus was at least three years back, an experience I did not quite relish because my little one was littler still and the route and time I took was not really conducive for point-to-point commute and most of the entire one hour ride (which would have taken 15 minutes by other modes of conveyance) was spent answering the single question "are we there yet".

But today was different.  The kid was at school. Dude at work. No urgent deadlines.  Contrary to expectations of peak time traffic, the 5B route at 9 AM was relatively easy.  The bus was not too crowded, in fact, beyond Malar, I even got a window seat.  The weather was glorious - bright and cheerful. The mind instantly calmed down - I felt a knot in my stomach, that I had not even realised existed, loosen. Kid, husband, work, ageing elders-worries took a backseat and I was intensely aware of just myself, the bus and the passing scenes.  

I reached Mylapore in 10 minutes flat and Rs. 3 - the auto rickshaw I had originally planned to take would have costed me Rs. 50. I even had 15 minutes to visit the Kapali temple before my in-laws turned up, having been squeezed to juice in traffic between Mambalam and Mylapore.  And wonder of wonders, even the temple was relatively empty.

Despite not accomplishing what I had planned, it was a very satisfying morning. Perhaps I do need the few hours to myself now and then to realise how much I am rushing through life and to slow down. And to understand that even though this is the life I love and want, knots can form without my knowledge and I need some breather now and then to unravel them.

Some random pictures clicked using my cell phone:

The bridge over the Adyar river

Coconuts at the busstop.  Thirsty just looking at them.

College girls waiting for the bus

 

An out-of-focus signboard at a bus stop.

Rushing to work

Roadside temple

Road side vegetable vendor

Road side flower seller

Unexpectedly empty roads

Street house in Mylapore

Roadside Utensil seller

Temple tank