Welcome...

....Hari Mavayya into my little world of Blogs.

I sometimes wonder what my Great uncle (Everyone, My great uncle Mr. Janakiramayya Mocherla had writted an english dictionary and he is Hari Mavayya's dad!) have said if I'd had an opportunity to share my blog with him!

So here goes an official welcome to my uncle Hari Krishna, the son of a Legend in his own right !

And here is ' Jamican farewell ' by Harry Belafonte ,that my uncle sang for me in one of his many letters a good decade ago.

I hope you feel well soon and we should get to talk sometime :-)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uX5mNnJUcRY

Childlike.

Unruly steps

Unclear words

walking the length and breadth of the world around.

Talking their minds off in an attempt to make their point.

Infanthood's drool and rolling around

Try to pincer grasp the many wonders surrounding

A discovery named childhood

In a frenzy to be independent

Stand alone

And think as a little person

Free, full of fizz

And Fun.

Freeze a frame in the frail heartbeats

That keep going strong and long

Drinking the elixir

Of Watching a child

Being one!

Pet Peeves.

Okay Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls - It is cribbing time. Get a soda and get started.

I could possibly get crucified for this, but why do Indians as a culture, Like comparisons? Why can't something be left alone without drawing a comparison with something else? I see that this is more predominant in Indian culture than any other culture, and as an immigrant, I did see quiet a few of them.

Whose kid is taller than every other kid around? Whose hair is longer (or shorter) who is fairer? Oh, who is slimmer? Who is richer? It happens all the time. Which actress is better, which singer sounds the best? ...The list goes on and on.

Sometimes, you are compared to yourself, of course a much younger and vital yourself. I'd seen recently in a gathering a lady comparing an older lady to the older lady herself. Why would anyone compare a 7o yr old to her 50 yr old self? Hello People - there is something called time and it shows ware on everyone and everything around. Why can't "you aged so well" or "you look great in yellow" be an ice breaker instead of "You look so bad now, What happened to your legendary good looks?" One can never understand.

Then come Arguments. Some random topic about politics, entertainment or even religion. The arguments continue sometimes cutting close to getting physical. Nothing comes out of them though, except raised voices and strained vocal cords, ear drums and unfortunately enough - feelings!

Why does someone need to know if they look tired or fat or dull or old? Will it help them from being more tired, fat and dull and old??? Curious minds ponder. Didn't these peoples' moms and dads teach them not to say anything if they do not have something nice to say???? Alas!

Why is everyone that is smarter than you a geek and why is someone that is dumber than you are a loser?

Why is a person with liberal spending habits extravagant and a person counting his pennies a miser and why does someone having fun in life branded as having no grip on their priorities and someone not having that much fun as being devoid of fun?

And then comes judging. Oh, that guy is good! Yea, this one is a confirmed thief. Oh, they are very selfish! Ah...the bad karma of someone suffering. I just fail to get all this.

And the grand finale of my peeves - Why can I not just do away with washing dishes????

And Laundry?

And Ironing?

Okay, I'll stop now!

Attraction

What was I thinking? I don't know. Sometimes I act like a 2 yr old. Last week when I was at the pedicurist (for the second time in 9 years) Aarti had to be dragged along with me for obvious reasons. The pedicurist, Diana from Vietnam, offered to paint Aarti's nails. I would, on a sane day, say no to a 2 yr old's nails, be it toe nails, being painted. On this particular occasion, I had to give in since she needed a bribe for behaving for one hour while I got myself pampered in the whirlpool of warm water massaging my feet. So, guilty but half hearted, I let Aarti choose a color. What does she choose? A bright neon green that would normally be used for labeling garage sale stickers or stick em notes. Luckily, she got diverted by the time it came to painting her nails and I walked out thanking my lucky stars for having missed the thrilling opportunity of seeing my toddler's toe nails painted a gaudy, cheesy neon green.

And look at the strange twist of fate - I get attracted to a pair of the most gaudy Birkenstocks designed by Heidi Klum, yes guys, the same well endowed, mom of 3, Victoria secret model with a kick ass bod! And I realise that Aarti's color choice is after all, a genetic disorder, since the metallic neon green sandals with the heaviest embellishments and the flashiest adornments do no justice to the picture put up for your consideration. The conventional birki style looks like the illegitimate child of Birkenstocks and Joan Rivers Junk jewelry. The hefty straps overwhelm my dainty foot and make it look kind of funny and stuffed. Just this evening I show them off to my friend Sneha and she had this perplexed look on her face. "And you are roaming around in these for the summer?" She asked with an expression way too complex, for I cannot say if it is shock or a mock....at the choice of a thirty something housewife.

Even my young kid bro with and adventurous twist and off beat fashion sense is not seemingly thrilled! "Look at how comfy you are" is the first thing he said upon eyeing those monsters on my feet. "very" I replied with a put on confidence . "Then it's all about how bravely you can carry them off" he added. Now..that is the key. Am I really the two year old that would not care a spit in the toilet about what people would think about her neon green toe nails?? May be not! So off they go to give me the pleasure twice. First the pleasure of buying and next, the pleasure of returning. That's one of the reasons I love the US. The return policy is a boon for fashion blunders like the one I'd just committed.

I'll get the dusty pink flip flop style ones instead. My 'do not notice me' counterparts of Birkenstock sandals. But I am happy about thinking like a 2 year old. Sounds cliched, sounds old - but isn't age just a number???

I still am attracted to shiny, gaudy stuff deep down within and it makes me happy to make a public confession of my sometimes unusual taste. Now tell me, is neon green and metallic blue paired with some serious bling on a toddler carrying mom's feet going to make you go "what a wacky sense of style?"

Just when I think I have a block....

I want to think again!

Who was the king?

Scottish??

Robert Bruce????

I'll stop the abuse of the question mark for now.

May be my memory is failing after getting on the wrong side of Three 'O'

Substitute.

Today I thought

I'd write a thousand words.

Today I fail.

Wait...

May be not!

Value

Taking things for granted is probably the biggest mistake we commit. When I was in school, the kids used to maintain pin-drop silence in a teacher who was a tyrant. The one teacher that relaxed all the rules and was more in the mode of "I'm-not-your-teacher, I'm-your-friend" never got the assignments in time for correction. Her class was never quiet. Her instructions were never taken seriously. At work, the boss who shouted at every one was taken very seriously. People were extra careful to come in time and finish their deadlines in time. When it came to the boss that was more lenient, there were unexplained late arrivals, unfinished tasks, unruly work hours and unapproved leaves.

The friend who understands you more is often neglected. "She'd understand" we'd presume and ditch her on the date to a movie. The one who'll be mad and throws a tantrum will never be ditched on a movie date or any activity for that matter.

Is it not unfortunate that we walk all over people that are nice, understanding and easy going while we suck up big time to the ones that are the exact opposite?

I know a person with a huge (I mean huge) attitude. The person would neither have a genuine smile on nor would value any thing or anyone. The conversations are usually condescending. The humor is more like " I am laughing at you, not with you". And to top it all, the person would bring up the most delicate topics to converse just in case the person would decide to converse in the first place.
I have one word for such people - Duck Odd. ( I know I mix up my "f" and "d"s) but unfortunately there are many people that yearn for a validation from that person. And the most pleasing and pleasant person around would not even get a second glance. "He/She is nice" we'd think "He/She would not mind if we are not nice in return!" Yeah, sad! Yeah, True. So we continue to pull the leg of the person who never ask us to duck odd. We arrive late to dates with him/her. We never return the things we borrow from them and we seldom treat them with the niceness and warmth they treat us with.

I hope that people will learn to value nice people. The smiling sales person will often get cribs about how poor the service was. The one that has a poker face will not even be approached. Right?? The adjusting child will not get attention, the demanding one will never be ignored.

So we seem to have a choice here...We should either stop giving all that 'bhaav' to undeserving people and shower it on the ones that are really nice, like being silent in the nice teacher's class and finishing the work of the nice boss or may be being attentive to the nice, undemanding spouse or child. OR we should just be jerks so that others cease to be jerky with us....

May be it is time we act and value the things that are valuable!

Godliness.

When I was in 5th grade, our messy classroom sported a quotation etched out of black velvet on white card board.

"cleanliness is next to Godliness" it read!

Space.

Attempts to create, to etch an image of memory on the canvas of passing time.
Efforts to accumulate wealth, wellness and well wishers in the odyssey of life. Dreams to conceive, goals to achieve. Battles to win. Journeys to begin. All things rosy, All things pretty come and fall in the lap of living. A void remains.

A haunting fact that exists in the disappearance of the missing world when the eyelids of ignorance close on the eyes of knowledge drives home a point We all miss - There's nothing without when the identity of truth ceases to exist within
and what we see melts into oblivion, reminding us of the illusions we live in.

Recur.

Aarti seems to have taken after me on many fronts, except loving food of course (and her dainty frame explains why) And one of the many fronts that she has taken after me, is the love for music and the want to listen to some favourites on repeat. The song Turtle Dove, for some weird, unknown reason makes her very calm and meditative. She can be in her worst "I am going to throw a tempest like tantrum" mood and Turtle dove can make her take and about turn to " I am the sweetest, most manageable toddler walking on the earth" mood.

Just a few hours ago, she lulled herself to sleep in the over sized leather rocker listening to Turtle dove playing in BOSE lifestyle. I had a break clearing up the kitchen and doing the dishes. The moment I popped the CD into the player , her tender face wore the expression of eternal bliss and she could care less about cuddling, reading a book or listening to a story like she normally does before going to sleep.



Fare thee well my dear I must be gone

And leave you for a while

Though I roam away I'll come back again

Though I roam 10 thousand miles,

My dear Though I roam 10 thousand miles....



A see a personality, a little person with a big signature of who she is and what she likes and dislikes. Love for music, love for lip balm, nail polish, flowers, babies, black olives, aquariums, gold fish, french fries, apple wedges, curd rice, sunshine, outdoors and the list goes on.

More than all these things, the one thing that surprises me is her love for freedom, for individuality. No matter how clingy she gets when she needs me, she always tries to tackle her little chores and cares all by herself, independently.
Now I am not sure where she inherited that from - probably form her dad or her maternal aunts, definitely not from Mom.

Things seem to play in repeat here in our household, from music to blog entries, Love repeats itself - sometimes in the form of an English folk song and sometimes donning the costumes of words, love revolves around repeats - recurs that only get sweeter with every time they circle infinitely in the loops of life.






















Fare thee well my dear I must be gone

And leave you for a while

Though I roam away I'll come back again

Though I roam 10 thousand miles, My dear

Though I roam 10 thousand miles

Repair.

"C" pops out falling prey to little fingers - curious, destructive or plain bored. No clue why! I collect the bits of the key like a little girl treasuring her tooth to barter it for some moolah. On a different note, tooth fairies are morons! Don't you think? I place all the wee parts together. The key doesn't seem to find its usual spring. It gets stuck in an awkward angle printing "x" or "v" instead of itself. So "c" ends up in an identity crisis. I interwine to do something about the situation. The look and learn, I pry out "b" and break its dainty back. Now I grapple with both B and C. I grapple in present continous tense.

For the time being, my laptop looks like a young girl with two alternate front teeth knocked out. The keys with the delicate skeletons sit on the night stand carefully placed on the top of a bottle of Tylenol hoping for a laptop fairy to come and trade them for some bucks. I wish to wake up and find permanent keys grow back :-)

Wishful thinking also calls for wishing not to create one problem in hopes of solving another. "Re-Pair, Re-Think"