This whole shoe throwing business is getting out of hand.At this rate,press meets will soon be akin to places of worship – ” Please leave your shoes outside”.
Footwear will soon appear on the things-not-to-be-carried list aboard flights.We’ll all be travelling barefoot on planes.
I see a real shoeless future.
One of the contestants in Femina Miss India ‘09 had something of this sort to say,about herself – “I not only have a healthy body and mind ,but also a beautiful and caring heart”.
How can one say this with a straight face,that too,on camera ? And,isn’t there a limit to gloating about yourself ?? How do you know if you have a beautiful and caring heart ??! Shouldn’t other people be the judge of that ?
Ennamo ponga.The things people say to win a crown,I tell you..Atrocious.
Why do most Hindi-speaking junta presume that every other Tom,Dick and Harry can speak as fluently in Hindi as them ?Why do they insist on carrying on a conversation in Hindi with a south Indian Tamil-spouting lady ,who has made it quite obvious in the first few minutes of the conversation that she’d rather converse in English than in Hindi ?
What would they feel if I just went on and on in Tamil the first time I meet them ?
Funny.
It doesn’t really matter.Bad habits,hard-to-throw-off habits will somehow find their way back into your life.Like the time I was ranting about how my handbag was always used like a trash can ? Ever since I got here,I have barely used my trash can.Backpacks are more suitable for the cold weather.However,I realize that hasn’t helped me get over the trashing habit.Now its not the handbag,but the pockets of my winter jacket that bear the brunt. Grocery bills,unused Pizza Hut ,Mc Donald’s tissue papers,sugar sachets,coffee-to-go stirrers,pepper sachets,what not.
This seems to be a congenital problem.Habits don’t die hard.They never die.Especially the ones you seriously want to get over with.
Eleven months in Deutschland and I am yet to utter one complete sentence in German.But,but,but, that has never stopped me from watching German TV programmes.The TV is hypnotic.Even if I don’t understand a single word of whats being said,just turning it on turns “house” into “home”.”Loneliness” into “lazing happily on the couch”. And thats precisely why I actually do watch a few German programmes here.One of them is a cookery show.The show is called “Das Perfekt Dinner”.A reality show in which 5 contestants are pitted against each other to make the bestest dinner ever and win the prize money of 1000 Euros.
On yesterday’s show,there was this one contestant who had decided to cook an Indian meal.The menu was as follows :
Yea,just Urad Dal.I was wondering what she was planning to prepare.Was it going to be Medhu Vada dipped in Yoghurt or something of that sort ? The dish served was plain pressure-cooked Urad Dal with turmeric.And a whole bowl of that.How can one finish that off ?
Again,fried potato,cauliflower and paneer soaked in water boiled with turmeric and salt and chilli powder.Served with plain rice.Worse still was watching her prepare the dish.We Indians are so used to the tadka i.e., the mustard spluttering when you drop it in oil that we barely notice it.It was only yesterday I realised how brave Indian women are to face this “mustard spluttering” without fear.The contestant was so petrified that the mustard was going to splutter all over her face,she was standing with this shield all the while she was cooking.
Luckily,she had stuck to some non-Indian dessert that she probably knew how to prepare.And oh yea,our dear Pillaiyar was sitting on the table as a table decoration.You poor Pillaiyar,the amount of respect you get in India and ,there on the show,you were sitting on the table as a little toy .And so ended the perfect Indian Dinner.And,surprise surprise,she ,on an average,got 8 points out of 10 from the others.If I had known,I could have possibly got the 1000 Euros with a simple rasam and curd rice and poriyal and semiya payasam.I missed my chance.Damn.
P.S : I really felt pathetic after watching this.If you don’t know a thing about a particular cuisine,just don’t dare to try it.To me,and especially after eleven months away from home, nothing can beat Indian cuisine.And she made mincemeat out of it yesterday 
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How can one be prepared for the worst when one really has no idea what the worst would be like ? Silly,no ? Or,Silly me.
Somethings wrong with me .Theres this particular song I like.So much.So much that I have listened to it continuously for almost the whole day.And I’m sure I’m going to be bored of it by like tommorrow.This happens to me always ,this Repetitive Listening Syndrome.Happened with Alaipaayuthey .Now I just don’t have a single Alaipayuthey song on my playlist.Too much of a good thing,I guess.And of late its been Tum Se Hi from Jab we Met.I hope I don’t tire of this one soon.
I realise I am not a very moderate person.Everything is done in extremities and it takes the fun out of it after a while.Sigh.
I might die sooner than I might get an appointment with a doctor here.Or so it has been ,so far.An appointment, that was requested two weeks back, has finally been fixed for the next week.Luckily,I am not on my death-bed ,so I can manage to stay put for three weeks,but I wonder what happens to people who are like,you know,in dire need of immediate medical care.This apart,giving your details is a nightmare.Especially your name.Definitely something like Satyanarayanan is not a very familiar word to a German receptionist.As both mine and my husband’s name are relatively long , my total name is quite huge now ,at least by my standards .Its got around 22 letters ,I think.Poor spouse spelt out this name thus on the phone.S for Spain,A for America,N for Nigeria,G for Germany ..and so on.He took around 10 minutes to spell out my full name to the poor German lady at the other end.He must have used atleast half of the countries on the world map.She must’ve freaked out. Lesson learnt-Don’t pass on the burden of long names at least to the next generation.Keep it short,and sweet.Would save them a lot of trouble.
“Rain rain go away.
Come again another day”
What wisdom ! Rain looks good only in the movies.And only when pretty heroines are prancing around or chocolate-boy heroes are dancing about it. I fit neither category.
One can’t step out. And even if one does,the rain makes you all soggy and slushy.Just can’t stand it.
Next,this chill weather.Freaks me out.Everytime I got to go out,its a ritual.First the sweater,then the woollen scarf,then the winter jacket,then the winter cap.Then the socks,the shoes…Sigh.Tired even before I step out.
Nothing like the heat-stricken cities of India.Can’t wait to get back there and get roasted.
Preparing to go on a vacation is way too hectic.Paranoia strikes after you read about the umpteen instances of pickpocketing and thefts that take place at your destinations.Then you start to read about how to carry your belongings safely.Its when you read other travellers’ accounts that you realize,thankfully,that you’re not the only one who is over-cautious while travelling.What can I say,there are people who’ve stuffed money down their socks ! Paranoia is finally replaced by exhaustion when you decide its just not worth getting so worked up about,just,a vacation.Then comes the checklist.What to take.What starts off as a simple half -a- page affair elongates and prolongs like our TV serials.Then the getting charged part.Charge,charge everything you can get your hands on.Cell phones,camera batteries,ipod.Thats when you realise it would have been better to be living in the Stone age.Next,print.Print everything you can get your damn hands on.Flight tickets,train tickets.hotel confirmations.
Too bad we grew up.It was easier just holding my Dad’s hands and walking to the train station for a vacation.Or I could console myself that the Colosseum and the Leaning tower of Pisa is worth this Paranoia 
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