If one visits certain relatives and friends, one might notice their tendency to always talk of the past, sometimes repeating anecdotes and stories so many times that one's attention starts waning and one looks to change the topic or to slide into a dreamworld of one's own, with the buzzing of the speaker relegating to the background. Only to be roused into reality when the monologue gets over. This is especially with respect to elderly people and ladies in their mid years whose children have grown up and there is lot of free time.
Being a happy and positive person is a foremost prerequisite in order to be a good conversationalist.Here are some notes to remember-

# One should remember that his toothache is more important to him than another's famine/fever/headache etc.
# The past is over and finished and no amount of reliving it will make it change; it will only make one fatigued and depressed. Do not travel excess baggage, be light.
# To do something creative or completely unrelated at hand, will make one feel immediately exuberant rather than brooding on one's misfortunes.
# That, its virtually impossible to change another or what he did. What is possible, is however, to decide what you can do and excercise that choice with discretion.
# Moreover, a genuine interest and love for people not bordering on inquisitiveness and an ability to listen.

Education

I had thought that my blogs had had an untimely demise.People asked me why I was not blogging but alas ! everything had dried up.Nothing was flowing.
I was thinking in that vein, when the other day, my daughter who attends Moral Sc classes was asked by her teacher ‘ What is the purpose of education?’ and she, in turn asked me this question. That set the ball rolling and me thinking. I was sifting through all the answers in my mind- to gain knowledge about the self and the world. To distinguish between right and wrong- not quite what I wanted to say .There are many who intuitively know what’s right and wrong but were not educated, eg. Ramakrishna Paramhansa. Moreover,concepts of right and wrong are relative, not perfect.
To acquire skills like analytical, rational, mathematical, linguistic and work skills. But this might not encompass qualities like kindness, humility, non-reactiveness, humaneness and magnanimity.

To impart what we have learnt to others-but that might at best, make us a good teacher.
Suddenly, I thought that a little girl’s question had made me think and look for an answer.In that sense, my daughter was the teacher and I, a student. And I realized that the purpose of education is to understand that in the classroom of life we should always be a student, learn and move on to the next class. With the enthusiasm, discipline and grit of a student , we can learn invaluable lessons from life.

The Bathroom - A Sanctuary

The bathroom is a utility area as such but if one sees it from another perspective, it is a sanctuary.
It is a haven where one can relax and unwind with a warm shower to soothe one's frayed nerves after a long hard day's work.
It is a refuge for people, who want to vent out or cry which they are unable to do in front of the general public or a house full of nephews, nieces and folks.
It is a hiding place of sorts, where one can hide things from their wives, mothers etc. Its only during the monthly cleaning that these are retrieved and all hell's loose but at least on other days, peace prevails. Its also a hideout for children on report card day or for husbands when their spouses are screaming at such decibels that are dangerous to eardrums.
It is a stage , where amateur singers can find expression with the hand shower acting as a make believe mike. A wanna be actor can mimic appropriate expressions in front of the mirror and get into his fantasy world without the prying eyes of a critical audience.
Nowadays, it serves as a library too, where many books and periodicals are stocked and many ingenious ideas born.
in fact, for many its akin to a sanctorium and the sole place where they can be themselves.

The sari

The attire has become almost extinct in today's world and has been dismissed as being most impractical and cumbersome. Its the age old six yards- the sari.
With the mall hopping culture and the glut of brands like Guess,Esprit etc being easily available off the shelves, the poor sari has lost its importance and finds no space on the counter shelf. The reactions one invites on wearing it are the puckering of the nose and the raising of an eyebrow. However, there are number of reasons why the sari can be termed an extremely useful garment.
# It accentuates feminity and tradition.
# It is a good camouflage for all the tyres that get accumulated due to lack of exercise and overeating.
# It is airy and quite suitable for tropical climates.
# The folds of the pleats can be used to hide things effectively when your toddler throws a tantrum on seeing a chocolate.
# The pallu can be used as a good substitute for a kitchen cloth to pick up hot pots and pans off the burner ( provided the cloth is cotton and the wearer has years of experience). The above feat should not be tried by amateurs for fear of scalding.
# The pallu can be easily torn and used as a bandage in event of a minor accident. ( filmi style)
# The pallu can also be used to wipe the sweat off one's brow in sudorific temperatures.
And such and many are the advantages of this raiment which doesn't buy many takers in today's world.

Take a break

For many, creating a blog may be inspired by their children. But for me, to tell you the truth, it was getting away from them, into a time zone that is totally mine. The most important prerequisite and also a hitch for a parent is to find a niche for herself as a person where she can be herself. Uninterrupted, by the countless questions of her little toddler, undisturbed by the loud bawling of her little baby, every mother must take a time out ,for herself, to recharge her batteries. This makes her plunge again into the duties of a mother with greater gusto and enthusiasm.

My encounter with a cockroach

It was this morning while I was in the bath that our gaze met, though we can't see eye to eye, and we both froze - in fear. It was the six legged brown apparition that suddenly appears on most indian household walls at odd hours - the cockroach. I inched towards the corner of the wall and tried to shoe it away with the waive of my hand but to no avail. Perhaps, it took my waive to be a friendly hi ! I looked around for a weapon to protect myself- shampoo bottles, feet scraper, shower gels but then realised that the creature had wings and if I threw something at it, it could just take off and come too close for comfort. So, I skipped the idea. Instead, I stretched to the further end of the counter to retrieve a tissue paper. I squashed the creature with a tissue (ha!) without an iota of remorse.But it deftly slipped away and I was left squashing thin air and feeling like a fool. I don't know how they can preordain our gestures but I am convinced that these creatures are sharper than me. As if, sensing my feelings, it disappeared on its own volition into maybe, one of the crevices on the bathroom walls and I heaved a sigh of relief.

Hello : I'm back

Hi everyone ! This was a big break. I had gone to Kolkata for my summer vacations and couldn't really access the net there. Kolkata was hot and humid interspersed with a few showers not to forget a cyclone, which brought life to a stand still. So, we stayed indoors and played cards and other games. But what is most amazing there is the food- rossogollas,shondesh,mishti doi,aloo dum, moshla mudi, aah....khoob bhalo. I was really on an eating binge, what with sampling mom's great fares and trying out cuisines of all the newly opened restaurants. However, now its back to Pune and routine, of which blogging is a part that I look forward to.

Ciao and Keep commenting

My lessons at swimming

In the scorching heat of April, the pool at our society premises seemed a heavenly place to be in. But the hitch was that I hadn’t gathered the courage to learn swimming in all of my 30 odd years. And standing sheepishly on the sides of the shallow side , coming in the way of the kids out to have a rollicking time, seemed a wee bit foolish. Just then, my friend told me of a coach who was ready to come at seven in the morning. With a bit of dilly dally, I thought I might as well take the fatal plunge.
So, I marched with a purposeful stride, attired in the appropriate gear, cap, swimming goggles et al on my first day at swimming. There were morning walkers, joggers and gym goers. Smiles and pleasantries were exchanged. A neighbour nodded approvingly and said “ nothing like a dip in the pool to beat the heat”. Another looked disapprovingly and said “still learning”?! But I brushed aside such snide remarks and started walking with greater resolve.
It was a great resolution for a person who believed that she would drown the moment the coach would leave her hand or remove himself from an arm’s length. So with flailing arms and legs, the adventure began. My eight year old daughter told me that I should keep myself really loose in order to float but the harder I tried , the more effort I put, the more difficult it seemed. Everyday, I thought I should quit, but just when I was planning to throw in the towel(quite literally), suddenly I was afloat.
I realized that the coach’s role is so akin to a mother’s. Its finally the child who has to study, concentrate, practice and focus but the gentle support of the hand, the firm reproof, the words of encouragement and the reassurance that ‘ you can do it’ makes all the difference.
Swimming is a must for everyone because it entails conquering one’s fear at every step and rising above it. As they say, when there is a will, there is a way.

The electoral process is in full swing and people are queuing up in polling stations to exercise their rights as responsible citizens of a pseudo democratic state. Where might is right and scruples completely amiss, hungry politicians want a piece of this crumbling cake of power and eat it too. There is a lot of talk on voting rights but hardly much forethought on voting responsibilities. The affluent elite would much rather stay within the comfort of their air conditioned chambers or dwell over their personal problems rather than the matters concerning the running of the country. Notwithstanding the fact, that the privy purse might be dwindling, because of misuse by corrupt politicians, at their expense.
I appreciate the efforts of ‘ The Times’ and other news agencies, be it their ‘ Lead India’ slogan or other such endeavours to create awareness in the youth. Such clarion calls are the order of the day. Especially, the satirical ‘ Bleed India’ skit, with the unctuous politician grinning from the pages imploring citizens not to waste their energies in voting. Young filmmakers are going out of their way by roping in celebrities to awake the conscience of a laid back electorate. Who knows, the purple spot on the finger might replace the tattoo as the latest fashion statement.
I wish merely pressing a button would eradicate all the problems of our country and enthrone a moral government head but nevertheless, each push of the right button would be a small step in the right direction.

Home is where the heart is but at the moment, I feel home is where the hearth is. The cook has gone for his annual holiday and I'm wondering when do I go for mine. But for now, its running helter skelter in the sweltering smelter-the kitchen, where women spend a good part of their daily lives.
Its breakfast time and the father-in-law needs to be served at the precise hour. A nephew comes hurrying wanting his tiffin to be packed immediately; another comes groggy eyed asking what’s made this morning; and yet another plonks himself on the chair, drumming his fingers and feigning patience. The daughter is glued to the television and refuses to budge inspite of umpteen reminders to brush her teeth. On top of that, the three year old menace spills milk all over the floor. The husband looks on , amused and compassionate, both at once. Sigh! hands heavenwards ; I'm a woman, after all, I say.

The trials and tribulations of a homemaker are worth writing home about. It would definitely stump and perplex a newly wed, not used to such a rampage.
Here are some tips to further their competence-
Plan ahead , preparing the basics the day before and leaving the finishing touches for the next morn(i.e. if you still don’t have an unfinished list of that days work)
Break-up chores into smaller tasks and time them.
Put things to boil first so that while the stove does its work, you can do yours. The point to remember is to not let the the burner free.
Make purees and pastes ready for quick use.
Finally, be thick skinned and switch off from the chaos around you just like the oblivious driver who is deaf to the honking around him, lest he give way to panic.

Though, I was extolling the virtues of the fountain pen, the other day, I was by no means against its rival, the "NOTEBOOK".
Technological advancement has made the world into a global village. Communication is just a button away. Just a click, and the screen lights up buzzing with so many snippets of information. A plethora of knowledge is available to the average student, layman, businessman at his ready beckoning. The home maker is thrilled at the prospect of finding free recipes on the net rather than spend a fortune on recipe books. Children can learn tables and grammar in a play way from educational cd’s rather than the boring and black and white text books.
In a saturated world, where space is such a constraint, a whole array of encyclopedia can be stored in a compact rectangular briefcase, not to mention photographs, medical records, and other documents. The pen has been replaced by the pen drive.
In a fast moving world, where time is a precious commodity, the cumbersome task of writing and receiving letters and the delay in between can be saved by the instantaneous e-mail. And now, we have gone a step further and the briefcase has given way to the pencil box, the new kid on the block-the blackberry.
The most awaited box of the day is the in box.
Long lost friends can get in touch and new friends found. Its a great way to share one’s thoughts with the world and invite comments. And it makes possible for me to do what I’m doing now!!

Ciao and keep in touch,

Yours, gingerly treading lesser known waters of media communication,

Technology

I’ll take up from where I left off. So, for a person for whom the word technology is a nightmare the decision to blog came as quite a surprise but may be the love of writing over-powered fear of technology and the decision was made.
With the advent of the keypad, the erstwhile writing instrument, the fountain pen finds little relevance. It has become a redundant apparatus much to the vexation of the likes of me who likes her i's to be dotted and t’s to be cut at the right place. Now, it is used only by calligraphers and architects for rendering and writing as such has generally become a host of short forms, difficult to decipher for a person not used to this jargon.
Writing for writing’s sake as in art for art’s sake is a thing of the past, a past which was written by greats like R.K. Narayan.

Technology, a nightmare

In this world of fast changing technology, one gets lost in the maze of e-mails, social networking, smss and suchlike.On top of the 24/7 stressful job of parenting and housekeeping, it becomes an onerous task to keep abreast of the latest cars, gadgets, mobiles, laptops, ipods and other such technological paraphernalia. It is a perplexing and complicated exercise , to say the least. But keep up one must , in order to gain the approbation of ones' peers, and also to convince oneself that he is not such an ignorant fool, who needs innumerable guidance on the comp and for whom copying and pasting and saving files in the right folder is a formidable challenge. This ignorance, however, one guards with great guile. Fear of technology, one must muster to master inspite of all odds.Wish me all the best :)

vvroom

Hi! It was yesterday that I decided that I finally wanted to become a blogger.It had been on my mind since quite some time but was not getting down to it.After ruminating on various optons,thought of calling it"Ruminations"-meaning meditating or contemplating about anything in general and nothing in particular. I think blogging is a great outlet for amateur writers and home makers which gives their creativity a good boost and forces them to keep their thinking caps on lest they settle lazily in their comfort zones.So, guys wish me best of luck......here i am....raring to go....