A song

While shifting to Germany, Amma had just one request: to email her songs sung by me. So since my move I have made it a point to record every little tune for her. Even if it's just a tiny bit recorded during my riyaz, she is happy listening to it. Mothers I tell you! 
A couple of months back I found Thode Badmash's (Movie: Saawariya) karaoke. I knew this was Amma's favorite song and couldn't resist recording this for her. 

This song has always been on my list of songs to share here. I hope you like it.
A note before you hit the play button- the recording is hideous. Seriously. The quality is not great at all but my voice is heard (slightly). Despite its flaws I had fun recording.

I would love to hear your thoughts :)

Untangled

Like most kids, I always hated getting a haircut. A pair of scissors snipping away was not something an adorable sweet kid like me preferred. But whatodoo, I had to get them cut. I had long curls. Ha! Now don’t imagine nice, lustrous, beautiful curls; mine were dry, wavy and tough to maintain. I had a mop of hair that made a squirrel jump with joy for having found a home. It is also believed that a certain ‘Baba’ might have got inspired by me. My mom tried various traditional methods to straighten it but in vain. Hairclips got lost sometimes; err well, you know how I like exaggerating. 

In those days, I used to be Raju Salon- For Mens shop’s loyal customer. Appa thought hair styling was not something a 4 year old needed and asked a neighbourhood salon owner, Raju, to cut it short so it wouldn’t grow back too quickly. Alas that never worked. During one such visit, Raju uncle tutted sullenly not believing his eyes, he made me sit on an enormous chair and assured Appa, “Saar, ‘Croff’ maaDidini. Innu yenTu tingLu aaraamagiri saaar” (Sir, for the next 8 months birds wouldn’t mistake it for their nest). He probably meant “Crop” but I am not sure. I also vaguely remember him muttering “devre kaapaaDbeku” (God wonly should help!).

Amma decided it was time she took me to a woman’s salon for a proper haircut. I was scared to sit on a chair that was not bitten by rats. Everything was new- there was no Raju uncle, no random old man reading newspaper and no random people watching cricket on TV, which was fitted on the wall, at far end of the shop; presumably a Solidaire or a Dyanora TV set. The ‘beauty parlour’ was neat. The kind lady smiled at me, she had a stylish haircut. Very impressive. “Oh what a lovely texture” exclaimed the parlour lady once I was seated. She then asked Amma “are you sure you want her hair to be cut?” Amma thought she was being sarcastic. I looked around feeling smug. After what seemed like a decade the lady said, “Ah there you are!” The result shocked us. It was exactly how Raju uncle styled my hair. Same-to-same. Of course the only difference was the parlour lady charged more than Raju. 

My tress tales continued to amuse my family. It was quite irritating when my class-mates (mostly boys) in high-school made fun of how I always cut my hair short. You see, all girls in my class had long hair. Perhaps boys felt insecure to see a girl with short hair. Who cares! What do they know about maintenance? Anyway, by the time I reached college I decided to let it grow. I used umpteen numbers of hair clips and hair bands to make it sit. Once I started working, I visited salons that charged unimaginable prices for a haircut (Trivia: such salons are very easy to recognize- they do not let you read the tariff card; they use exotic smelling products; they offer a welcome drink; they have glum looking employees; the owner claims to have worked with some celebrity or the other). But these so called professionals were also unsuccessful. 

After moving out of India, I thought to myself “*sigh* now there is no hope of finding a decent (not so expensive) salon in this strange land”. But recently I took a big step of visiting a salon. I was hesitant. You too would be skeptical if you noticed “Kill” inscribed as one of the words on the salon’s board. But surprise surprise! It turned out to be just right for me. After so many years, phew! I can finally say that my quest for the right hair stylist has come to an end. I feel elated, really. Now I can visit a cool, bubble-gum chewing, tattooed, blue-green-haired stylist who doesn't talk much, nope no gossiping (unlike parlour aunties) and doesn't suggest expensive hair products either. She truly is a magician! I felt she held a wand and not a pair of scissors in her hands while working.
After all Raju uncle’s prayers seem to be working.

So, what have you been upto?

As always I shall start with my "err let me explain..."

In November 2011 India witnessed few exhilarating and some run of the mill kind of events; grand prix finally happened, an airline company owned by once-upon-a-time-king-of-good-times faced terrible financial turbulence, solar energy generation reached new heights (no, seriously :p) , the media obsessed over Sachin’s 100th ton, Arnab Goswami continued to yell, not letting any of his guests speak in the newsroom, and of course Bollywood celebrated birth, stretch marks, mommy-hood and baby names.

Amidst all these proceedings, I too had my share of attention. Well you see I tied the knot in November 2011. And no no... none of my wedding pictures got sold to any of the newspapers or magazines (hmpf). Nonetheless my family and friends pampered me and showered me with all their attention. Trust me, I was indulged big time. Amma cooked one special dish that I liked every day, as the wedding day approached my sister made sure I didn’t forget anything (this space is too less to cover what she listed out for my wedding), and the men in the family were always ready to take me anywhere I wanted to go. And on the D-day my friends took such good care of me, I can’t thank them enough.

The wedding preparations were always action-packed- right from the wedding card brain-storming sessions, to discussions on food menu. The endless shopping, cooking lessons, shopping (yes, again), tears, laughter, photographs, some more shopping, what?-only-one-week-left-for-the-wedding-realisation, music, dance, last minute shopping… oh I could go on. The need to enjoy every moment became all the more important to me since I was moving out of Bangalore with ‘S’ (the husband).

So my friends, all in all, that kept me busy from blogging. I hope to be more regular from now on. I re-located to a new place and since then have been busy setting up our new home and I have also been travelling (future blog post alert).

Since I have more free time now, I am currently catching up on reading and music; I have also been trying my hand at cooking and baking. Don’t you snigger; I did mention ‘trying’ in my sentence. Honestly, I am a lot closer to achieving some success in baking than in cooking. I do make myself useful in the kitchen and amuse ‘S’ with my cooking abilities, or lack thereof. I hope someday I shall master the art… some day. Till then pliss to be checking out this picture collage I made. The baking bug seems to have bitten me and looks like the effect is going to last for a long time.

From left to right: Marble cake (the very first cake I baked), Blueberry muffins, Chocolate & Hazelnut Truffles, and  Chocolate cake.

Don...Don...Don....

As quoted by a world-famous common man who gives motivational speech standing next to a lamp-post near Malleshwaram grounds- “time barbeku saar time-u” (translated: what ees the right time, sir, please?), this blog-post too was waiting for the right time. Whatte beautiful wisdom. Profound.

Teehee okay I’ll stop my out of context talks. So as I was saying, this post has been waiting to get published for more than a year now. Yes yes I know it isn't surprising, I have a master degree in procrastination. But like Mr.world-famous-lamp-post-man says, time saar time-u.

Last year, when fellow-blogger-singer Vimmuuu, and I were generally chatting about songs, singers and AR Rahman (not in that order), he suddenly suggested -"aye why don’t we record a duet?" It got me very excited as I have always wished to record a duet number. Thus, we immediately started hunting for songs and finally, aaj ki raat (movie: Don) seemed like the right choice (I hope you people agree :)). I first sang the female vocalist's lines and mailed it to him. He later recorded his lines and tadah! the song was ready. Well, not quite. Vimmuuu then worked on the post-recording/mixing bit, all techie stuff, and made it sound all professional. Both of us agreed to post the song simultaneously and hence had to wait for the 'right time'.

So finally the auspicious day has arrived heehee.. Also, Don-2 is all set to release tomorrow. By re-visiting this song, I hope Shankar-Ehsan-Loy (some how land on our blogs) reminisce their Don-1 days and help us live peacefully by not scoring atrocious music (such as Don-2 tracks). Yep now you understand the context.

Presenting aaj ki raat, for the first time (simultaneously) on two blogs. I hope you have as much fun listening to the track as we did singing it.

Please do let us know your feedback; brickbats and bouquets are welcome!

And thank you Vimzy boy :) Hope to sing more such duets with you :)

Aaj Ki Raat by Full_Meals

p.s. Contact us for birthday parties, ladies kitty parties, anniversaries, naming ceremonies, wedding reception.. what? Really. heehee nah. Just kidding. On the other hand, if your party budget is high then we may re-think *wink wink*

p.p.s. You can read Vimmuuu's post here

Kapaki

My 1 year 7 months old niece (aka Puttudu on Full Meals) and I were busy arranging building blocks (our favorite game) today. While building a particularly difficult tower we heard crackers being burst. Her eyes widened when she heard 'dham dham'

Me: (sounding excited) Yenadu? (translated: What is it?)
Puttudu: grins and says "dham dham dhamaar"
Me: yes correct. Thats pataaki. say 'pa'
Puttudu: 'pa'
Me: 'taa'
Puttudu: 'taaaaaa'
Me: 'ki'
Puttudu: ki
Me: Pataaki
Puttudu: Kapaki

and thus began the Kapaki chant.
This is just the beginning of my deepavali celebration with Puttudu. I am loving it!

All you lovely people have fun. I wish you a very Happy Deepavali :)

Kilimanjaro

All characters/properties mentioned in this post are NOT fictional; they live and breed among us. If you raise your hand and yell “I know!” while reading this post, then you, my friend, are a victim of corporate drudgery; you have no place but your workspace/desk/2X2 cubicle to rot.

1. Receptionists/front office ladies:
Re-cep-tion-ist
noun

Traits- Age: 23-ish
Appearance: Maroon lipstick. Dark blue eyeliner. Straight hair. Purple lens. Sits next to another receptionist. Traits-30-ish. Appearance: Maroon lipstick. Dark blue eyeliner. Straight hair. Purple lens.

The spinal cord of any organization.
Nah! They are the ‘acting’ owners of your organization. They ‘act’ as though they own the whole dam(n) place. They also own the employees who work there and so naturally own their time as well.
Scene 1: Unfortunately you are in a situation where you need to contact your HR *tut tut*. Say, for example, the company’s internal attendance tool was *cough* under maintenance *cough* and now you don’t have the stipulated number of working hours in your kitty *giggle* Oh alright sorry. No giggling. But it is funny ha ha ha..

For reasons known only to the HR folks, mortals like us are not allowed to enter their workplace. You have no choice but to seek help from the kind reception lady. You say -“Hi. I need to see the HR-chick-who-wears-the-shortest-of-the-short-skirts-and-is-seen-posing-for-pictures-on- Family-Day-next-to-the-COO”. And the reception lady gives you a “can’t you see I’m busy playing solitaire” look and says ‘please wait’ with a sigh. But then she forgets to inform the HR-chick-who-wears-the-shortest-of-the-short skirts-and-is-seen-posing-for-pictures-on- Family-Day-next-to-the-COO or so you think. Big mistake. You wait for 5-6 minutes. Remind her. She nods or just stares at you. You read Economic Times (spot errors and silently laugh at their editorial team). You remind her, again. She ignores you. You read Bangalore Mirror. 25 minutes and you have had it. You say “I have been waiting for 25 minutes!”. Receptionist lady replies - “I told you no, she is on leave today” and spits (I added the last bit. Too crass no? teehee). And you just look back at her mika-mika blinking your eyes. Well I have a theory, you probably fell asleep while waiting and she came and whispered in your ears or something.
“After all a noun in the English dictionary” you might say, but the noun rules your life my friend.

2. Stationery folks:
Sta-tion-er-y
noun
Not to be confused with stationary (adj): Not capable of being moved
It’s a tad ironical. Really. These folks are perpetually on the move. You don’t find them at the stationery counter when you need them. Yes yes I’m talking about the Chitraguptas’ of our organizations. They keep a tab on our every move. In short they know our life history. We cannot run away without signing that little book of theirs. If we do forget to sign *evil laughter*remember, he/she is THE Chitragupta. We’ll be sent to hell, mark.my.words.

Sample this-
Employee number 007 –12th August - 1 Notepad (signed-by 007)
Employee number 007 - 12th August - 1 red marker (signed-by 007)
Employee number 007 - 1st September – 1 Notepad (signed by 007)

Look look, in less than a month you have already taken two notepads *gasp*. The stationery bhaiyya will scowl if you go past the counter. Of course you can hardly blame the guy if YOU scribble so much on those flimsy notepads. Scrawl on post-its and stick it on your forehead. DO NOT take another notepad for rest of the fiscal year.

3. Room Fresheners:
Freshen-er
noun
Side effects: Claustrophobia. Migraine attack. Slight drowsiness

Now, what’s the deal, do tell me housekeeping ladies? Do you and the makers of the awful smelling fresheners (normally rose or jasmine scented) get combined sadistic pleasure by spraying the fragrance all around the floor? Can you imagine the amount of stress we go through while you spray the dreadful substance *shudder*. The thought itself makes my migraine crawl all over my head.

4. Jargon:
Jar-gon
noun
Speech or writing having unusual or pretentious vocabulary
(I so agree with the ‘pretentious’ bit)

Jargon is the key to your survival in any organisation. Years ago, as an innocent fresher, even before I could say ‘sodexo coupon’, I was thrown into a meeting room full of people who looked extremely angry and worried about some client feedback. 40 people kept throwing jargons at each other and all I could think was – “so, err..come again? What was that? Touch base-aa?” *giggle* “Why is it so cold inside this room?” “Why isn’t anyone sitting on the chair?” “And the guy in blue shirt isn’t all that cute, is he?”

5. Tea/Coffee at office:
Enough said!

All you experienced corporate slaves go ahead and add to this list I say.

Let me explain...

So, THIS is a blog. THIS is how people type. THIS is how people delete the opening sentence and type again. So this is .. err what was I saying? OK have patience. Time please. Hmmm ... err …. Oh yeah, right, blogging. So after my epic 56th post, I lost my memory. (Anxious readers can relax. I cured myself. I hit my head against an ancient tree next to my house and tadah! here I am, this is me. True story). This is a valid reason for not having blogged, no? Yes yes of course it is. You folks can snort. It’s tough, coming up with reasons and all. People need professional qualification to list valid reasons. But not many people have it, now, do they? *evil laughter*. So all you bloggers out there who find it difficult to come up with reasons, don’t fret, coz The Great (non) blogger Shruthi is here to the rescue.*drum rolls* Presenting *trumpets* Top 5 Deadly reasons for not updating your blog *drum rolls*. The mundane- too much work, need to feed fish, facebook-ing, tweeting, Ikebana classes are passé. Without further ado, here goes the list:

Reason #1: Amnesia. Also known as “Main kaun hoon? main kahan hoon? syndrome”- a syndrome, due to which a blogger forgets everything- right from computers, internet, log in id’s to bluetooth, android, google and thus blogging.

Reason #2: Dog ate my blogpost. This is not my kinda reason, but there are dogs that gobble blogposts. Let me explain, blogger Pulakesi overhears his colleagues gossiping next to the coffee vending machine. Excitement! Harman Baweja! Himesh Reshamiyya! Shashi Tharoor (but of course his life is bollywood-ishly entertaining)! Pulakesi notes it down on a tissue paper. He comes back home. Gunda, his pet dog, finds a tissue paper lying next to Pulakesi’s blackberry. Pulakesi hates Gunda’s drool on his Blackberry. And for poor Gunda it’s a moment of ethical dilemma. Blackberry or tissue paper. tissue paper or blackberry. Gunda decides to keep the flag of his clan high, and eats the blogpost.

Reason #3: Blog Rehab. So says a blogger- “oh it’s a long story. My shrink thought I was addicted to blogging” *gasp* “hard to believe isn’t it? And he said I needed a break from blogging. *double gasp* I had to get my pocket knife out. Well the scene after that got pretty ugly and I was put in a blog rehab. Now you know why I went missing” *aww*

Reason #4: Zandu balm. Blogger comes home after a very tiring day at work. Switches on the idiot box to catch Priyanka Chopra (PC) in hot-pants (only if it’s a male blogger. A female blogger on the other hand might watch it to LOL. Everything about Khatron ke khiladi is hilarious- the way PC sways while anchoring (she THINKS its cool), PC’s perfectly manicured nails, milind soman's beard, tattoed anchor guy, PC looking terrified of snakes/roaches/spiders/ropes). Sorry I digress. So blogger switches on TV and lands on “le zandu balm hui darling tere liye.. Cinema hall hui, darling tere liye” whaaa? Who writes such stuff? Blogger is excited. He *thud*... falls unconscious. 5 weeks. no blogging.

Reason #5: Miscellaneous- Traffic jam, bank holiday, Lehman collapse, Bangalore rains, dinosaurs and of course CWG.