My apologies to those who religiously visit my blog (They being very few, I can’t afford to lose them). Life’s been very busy at work front. My Grandfather once told me that there are two kinds of people: those who work and those who take the credit. He told me to try to be in the first group; there was less competition there. I being the hard worker that I am have not been finding time at all for my FANs ;-) sorry once again.
My mom had conveniently convinced us how we always tend to remain in the same state of mind as on New Year’s Day. If you cry on 1st January then you end up crying the entire year, if you smile then that’s what you do for the rest of the year. If you study on that particular day then you’ll study the entire year. Now this looked like a fair deal. We had to study only for a day and rest will be taken care of.
This New Year’s Day, I consumed calories!!!! OMG! I am gonna do that for one whole year and yes, this is the year when my worst night mare comes true and I grow FAT.
All scared and panicy I went on a diet for a week. But the only thing I lost was the week…. Nothing else. I also vowed never to consume sweets and keep my hands off condensed milk. C’mon! Whom am I kidding? I have guzzled Condensed milk my entire child hood as it was delicious and FREE. Now it's a necessity to keep my taste buds alive.
So dieting was futile. The next best option would be to burn the calories I consume. I made a time table (reminds me of my school days when the only thing I would do was renew my time table). Wake up early morning, jog, yoga, meditate, work, walk, dance, yoga and sleep. The only thing that I am following now is “sleep”. Quite typical me. What was I thinking?
Now, the only option left is, rush to a temple now and pray to god to make all my other friends fat. If you are my friend, I am kidding about the last option… ;-) I am just signing off to WORK.
Cheers
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
While I was away!!!
Gtalk Chat Window:
Me: Hey! I am coming to Jammu on 19th. So come to the Airport to receive me
Friend: tell me about your plan. Wait! I’ll call you
Me: No no, don’t call me. This new office is too small and I have to talk softly
Friend: hahahahaha
Me: ?
Friend: Talk softly? Is that even an option for you? You are so Loud!
My answer to that was, “You have to come to Jammu to see what is loud.”
So I was landing Jammu (Yes! It is safe to be there), after about 3 years. I have missed this place a lot; have missed all my cousins, my uncles, aunts, and all those Jamwals in Jammu who are distantly related to us. Somehow, EVERY person in Jammu has a story to narrate about my Dad’s notorious childhood. After all this is where my dad grew up and left his impact.
Coming back to the point, nothing much had changed there. People still living under the bridges, beggars with torn clothes everywhere (only now they had mobile phones), overcrowded tempos, and no electricity. Even the ditches were at the same place where I had left them (only they grew bigger in size). I headed my home.
The feeling of being amongst your own people is amazing. I have an elongated, extended family back in Jammu whom I haven’t met for the past 3 years. Those 3 years seemed like ages when I first saw my "kido" cousins for whom I had bought gifts from “Weekender Kids”. They have all grown to heights ranging from 5’4” to 5’9”. Somehow, I am the only one who stopped growing vertically after class V. Wonder if I can exchange those “kids” clothes for something my size.
My chachu’s (dad’s younger brother), grey head look took me by a surprise and made me wonder “How long was I gone?”. He who is 12 years younger to my dad has suddenly started looking 12 years elder to my grand dad. Not that he’s not charming anymore. He is very charming, but in a different league altogether.
The cousin, I have played “ghar- ghar” with, the one with whom I have grown up, is suddenly a mom. She was playing all mom duties, feeding the baby, instead of running around in the garden with her mom’s dupatta. She was behaving herself, instead of ringing stranger’s door bells and fleeing. She was a MOM. Those words are still ringing in my mind, and I think it’ll take some time to digest the fact.
The scene during nights was pretty much the same. Everybody comes over, dadima gets busy preparing tea and arranging for snacks, and then starts the “gossip” session. This ever lasting Gossip session is my best part. It makes me feel alive. Everybody shouting at the top of their voices from every corner, no body listens to anyone yet make their point, Dadima shouting from the kitchen, kids running around the room, chachu passing his invaluable comments in between which would crack up everyone and then that laughter (loud laughter) which continues for good about 10 minutes, till the time of next session. Ah!!! I simply love it.
Another part that I totally enjoyed was, everybody coming upto me and telling me how I have lost so much weight and have gone weak. According to some, it was the work pressure, to some I am not eating well, and to some I am worrying about my future too much. The fact they all are missing out is that I have been working too hard to lose weight. As long as, my hard work is showing, I don’t care what label they put to it.
I think the point that I am trying to make is, I loved every bit of being in Jammu (including the cold). For a North Indian turned South Indian like me, minus 5 degrees was unbearable. But I somehow managed to survive and come back alive. Or maybe that was because of the fact that I bathed once on Monday and was done for the week.
It was very cold. I was standing under the single ray of sunlightfrom that single ray, when a stranger walked upto me and asked, “Oh! You must be feeling very cold. Look at your lips, all blue”
Me: “Oh yes! I can’t stand winters”
Stranger: “yeah! People from the south usually cant. Where are you from?”
Me: “Jammu”
I should really visit Jammu often to save myself from such embarrassments.
Me: Hey! I am coming to Jammu on 19th. So come to the Airport to receive me
Friend: tell me about your plan. Wait! I’ll call you
Me: No no, don’t call me. This new office is too small and I have to talk softly
Friend: hahahahaha
Me: ?
Friend: Talk softly? Is that even an option for you? You are so Loud!
My answer to that was, “You have to come to Jammu to see what is loud.”
So I was landing Jammu (Yes! It is safe to be there), after about 3 years. I have missed this place a lot; have missed all my cousins, my uncles, aunts, and all those Jamwals in Jammu who are distantly related to us. Somehow, EVERY person in Jammu has a story to narrate about my Dad’s notorious childhood. After all this is where my dad grew up and left his impact.
Coming back to the point, nothing much had changed there. People still living under the bridges, beggars with torn clothes everywhere (only now they had mobile phones), overcrowded tempos, and no electricity. Even the ditches were at the same place where I had left them (only they grew bigger in size). I headed my home.
The feeling of being amongst your own people is amazing. I have an elongated, extended family back in Jammu whom I haven’t met for the past 3 years. Those 3 years seemed like ages when I first saw my "kido" cousins for whom I had bought gifts from “Weekender Kids”. They have all grown to heights ranging from 5’4” to 5’9”. Somehow, I am the only one who stopped growing vertically after class V. Wonder if I can exchange those “kids” clothes for something my size.
My chachu’s (dad’s younger brother), grey head look took me by a surprise and made me wonder “How long was I gone?”. He who is 12 years younger to my dad has suddenly started looking 12 years elder to my grand dad. Not that he’s not charming anymore. He is very charming, but in a different league altogether.
The cousin, I have played “ghar- ghar” with, the one with whom I have grown up, is suddenly a mom. She was playing all mom duties, feeding the baby, instead of running around in the garden with her mom’s dupatta. She was behaving herself, instead of ringing stranger’s door bells and fleeing. She was a MOM. Those words are still ringing in my mind, and I think it’ll take some time to digest the fact.
The scene during nights was pretty much the same. Everybody comes over, dadima gets busy preparing tea and arranging for snacks, and then starts the “gossip” session. This ever lasting Gossip session is my best part. It makes me feel alive. Everybody shouting at the top of their voices from every corner, no body listens to anyone yet make their point, Dadima shouting from the kitchen, kids running around the room, chachu passing his invaluable comments in between which would crack up everyone and then that laughter (loud laughter) which continues for good about 10 minutes, till the time of next session. Ah!!! I simply love it.
Another part that I totally enjoyed was, everybody coming upto me and telling me how I have lost so much weight and have gone weak. According to some, it was the work pressure, to some I am not eating well, and to some I am worrying about my future too much. The fact they all are missing out is that I have been working too hard to lose weight. As long as, my hard work is showing, I don’t care what label they put to it.
I think the point that I am trying to make is, I loved every bit of being in Jammu (including the cold). For a North Indian turned South Indian like me, minus 5 degrees was unbearable. But I somehow managed to survive and come back alive. Or maybe that was because of the fact that I bathed once on Monday and was done for the week.
It was very cold. I was standing under the single ray of sunlightfrom that single ray, when a stranger walked upto me and asked, “Oh! You must be feeling very cold. Look at your lips, all blue”
Me: “Oh yes! I can’t stand winters”
Stranger: “yeah! People from the south usually cant. Where are you from?”
Me: “Jammu”
I should really visit Jammu often to save myself from such embarrassments.
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