Trees On My Mind

My mind has been on trees, of late. Trees are a big part of my everyday life, anyway. If there is one thing I like about my work-place, it is that there are trees there by the zillions. Untouched for years, unperturbed by changes, oblivious to college festivals, impervious to faculty-angst, they dig their roots deep, and spread their branches wide.

I gaze lovingly at them as I run past in the early mornings. I peer longingly at them as I drive past later in the day, rushing to and from office and meetings and school pick-ups, and yes, coffee breaks.

I like to touch things with my hands. I surely love running my fingers over books. I like smelling books. I am a very unlikely convert to the Kindles of the world. I do pick up the odd leaf and smooth it over with my fingers. In my garden, I found, two months ago, the fuzziness of the pumpkin creeper’s leaf, and it has stayed with me, an imprint, a memory. But I rarely touch these trees. They look really venerable. And I feel I would disrespect them with my mortal touch. My eyes, on the other hand, swallow them whole.

Chennai is a wonderful city where you will, serendipitously, run into a wonderful neem tree, if you have your eyes open. Yesterday as we parked on the side and stepped out, I saw a forlorn house in a large ground area. “Three grounds” the guy said. The grass was overgrown, and uncared for. The batik cloth hangings in the verandah were dusty, clearly unused for many years. The trees though, were spectacular. One was a wiry little fellow, all knobbly joints and defiant looking, thriving on the Chennai rains. The other was a sedate old matron, all heavy mid-section and a wide canopy of leaves, comforting, motherly. ‘Oh I love it’ I said.

(maybe i had a telepathic thing with dipali and the spaniard, who knows?)

Lists and things

i love to make lists. i usually make tons of lists, i follow some of them. i always pack from a list. except when its a day trip for work, when i just tick the few items (laptop! powercord! mouse! book!) off in my head. i even grocery shop with a list. my cook knows better than to fling item names at me. she makes me write them down and pin them on the fridge. and then when i leave, i forget the list. then i come back for it. sometimes i wing it. i forget half the things when i wing it. i like lists, all of it - making, ticking items off, losing, re-making, looking for the exact right pen for it, using the back of bills and other things (recycle! reuse! not so much reduce!), passing it on to the monster and making her read them out to me (this is tough, my writing is not exactly legible, its like here, how incoherent)....

when i was in germany i decided to start a list. now this is a fun list. things i want to do. sort of like things i want to do before i turn forty. but at work. i am on the cusp of a change. i should make such a list. i need to also make some resolutions. this whole move ought to feel like a big fucking challenge. being the spin-doctor and eternal optimist that i am, it feels to me like an opportunity. people are warning me. don't be too excited! don't think that you will have such a good batch of students every year! but, i am not stupid you know, appearances notwithstanding! i expect no such thing!! don't think this don't think that, they say. it doesn't faze me. i am not thinking those things. i am thinking of what i have done over the past year. if i was to summarise, here it is:

(1) Coffee Breaks

(2) Friday Lunches

(3) Weekday Lunches

(4) Family Parties

(5) Basketball Games

(6) Running

of course none of these were done alone, so imagine how many wonderful people i have met over coffee and lunch. these are the people i will work with. how cool! and when it comes to non-working hours, even if i set aside the bunch of my old friends that i have re-discovered in and around our alma matter, there are the kids! i really did not have so many kids as friends, the past six years as i grappled with everything. i have a long-standing due of a soccer game with two of the boys. i have spent hours over jigsaw puzzles with her. i miss the crazy running around the track with that brother and sister duo, have not done that the past month. although they are so very small (like five), the conversations we have had!

yes, its supposed to be all very challenging for me the next few years. but heck! bring it on! yes, you are welcome to question me on my achievements and stuff. sure! if i had stuck with the momentum i had in mumbai things would have been different. also true that that campus is ahead in terms of changes and new programs (that are relevant to me) in certain ways. i could have ridden that wave. of course. but it doesn't matter! i am here. we have a warm home. monster is happy. i miss my mumbai friends a lot, i miss certain aspects of mumbai a lot, but its okay! overall, i am a happy happy middle-aged aunty with 11 boxes in her office (my office stuff from there).

[also, the coffee is SO MUCH better here. my two favourites: Special Coffee (Rs.5) at Campus Cafe & Cappuccino with double shot of coffee (Rs. 30 at CCD, both with no sugar, of course. so give me a shout out y'all, when you want to drink coffee in chennai.... i have not had to drink tea since i came here thank heavens!]

The Good

My list of complaints has been fairly long of late. And it has taken me this long to (semi) sort through them and find the positive side of things.

* Fresh@ is a semi-supermarket in the area. It is literally walking distance from my place, except that the sun is too fierce to attempt it so I usually drive. I have been very disappointed with it because the veggies are not fresh. Especially the spinach & other leafy veggies that I need in bulk every week. Plus they have that ugly roll of plastic in which you fill the veggies and the kind lady weighs it and attaches a small sticker for you. You know. The grocery items are sufficient; there is a reasonable selection of everything, good enough for us. But the veggies thing was irritating me immensely. Thankfully, this past weekend, on Sunday when we went there, the veggies were really, all things considered, reasonable. I had carried my freezer bags - the netted ones - and the lady did not mind at all, was in fact happy, to weigh my veggies in them, and when the stickers did not stick, she did not crib her head off, just gave it in our hand and trusted that we would give it to the cashier (which we did, of course). So yeah. Nice veggies, no plastic.

* The monster is in a dance class. I am keeping it low key, knowing that if I let the family get all over her about it, she will refuse to go. But I did track down 'Ramakrishna Textiles' in Tiruvanmiyur to get uniform cloth and 'Lakshmi Tailors' on Canal Bank Rd for stitching it, and she looks awesomely cute in it. Since its kept completely low key, she is fine so far. I my mind it goes in the category of 'Good Exercise'

* Everytime we enter the campus, we need to fill in some slip of paper with all nature of things and when we get out, hand it back to Out Gate Security. I have been most most annoyed because the security (In Gate ones) speak some hybrid language - possibly Cat or Dog, but most likely a mix of Tamizh and Hindi. They also refuse to acknowledge the existence of the Play School, and one time, when I said 'Creche' the supervisor came out from his little cabin and said 'Oh Cre-ccchhh' which made me think of retch. Anyway finally I sorted this out by a glib lie. I give them my driver's name, and the name of a school (whose existence they don't doubt) that is right next to the dance class place. I switch furiously between Hindi and Tamizh so they now like me. Most importantly, they love the monster peering out of the window and always have a smile and a wave for her. Now I don't hate those boys either, so the mutual feeling of love pervades.

* Most of the repairs round the house are done. I mean, I really hope that all of it is done. We have a reasonably system in place for drinking water. The help is all set, and though their timings are still not formalised as mum is here, I can see a trajectory. The floor has lost most of its stickiness. Curtains are in place. All except one box (consisting of things from the Skoda which is, clearly, not my responsibility) are done away with. Wait, there are couple of boxes that the monster insists on playing with - calls them her boats, but that does not count of course. I find my bookshelves, which used to loom in our Mumbai households, dwarfed in that room. I don't visit them too often because I have hidden away the Tintins and the Calvins there from prying eyes. But, its all good.

* The compost pit is doing well. The garden is a bit bare, I am still waiting on some resolution on my water situation and at least a bit of cooling in the weather, but so far, so good. Yesterday we were visited by a most spirited Chameleon. It was outside the window and trying to climb the glass (it could not, finally). Yellow in colour, with its angry crest, I was on the inside, with glass and the netlon between us and I still jumped back when it bared its teeth at me, the crazy little creature (him, not me). I also have a small garden lizard that is half red half brown. And its cousin which is fully brown. Very young and slim so that I was sure it was a small snake till I saw the legs. A greyish brown bird family visited last week, I took pictures and later saw them in the jungle inside the campus as well, but I cannot identify it yet. A crow has its nest in the tree just outside the house. Mynas abound but for some strange reason I have not found sparrows here.

So all in all, the list of complaints seems to be shrinking. And about time too.

The Earlier Mornings

That is what we face at the homestead now. Earlier than ever mornings. I have a headache just thinking about how early in the morning I have to wake up now and henceforth till the end of time. Why, you might ask? Well, school for one. The maid and cook for another.

Today, walking along with mum at 5:40 in the morning (a time when the weather is nevertheless pointlessly warm muggy and you could cut with a knife heavy), I was really and truly amazed at how many people were up and about and walking and listening to music (devotional songs apparently) at ear-splitting volumes, and cycling and driving really really fast on side roads. Plus there is so much light, I wonder, did the sun even set? (of course it did not and never will, so what I mean is, has the earth stopped turning or something?)

And now, an hour later I am pondering, while sweating incessantly, about how to fix the motor for the water, how (or why) to bathe, whether to go to Woodlands for lunch, and oh god its white uniform tomorrow to school.

Feck it. Whats the point. Might as well go do the Hindu crossword instead of sweating at the keyboard. This has been quite a vacation, I must say!

Tickle Me Pink

Its like this. I get lost easily. Not in a figurative type of sense, wait, that too. But literally. Really and absolutely. It makes for many funny stories about me, but overall its quite an annoying thing. I can never get myself from point A to point B with any degree of confidence or certainty. But I must say though that while my location is up for grabs, my speed is good. So take that you slow walkers and dawdlers.

The trouble was diagnosed fairly early in life. My sister used to make enormous fun of me because I could literally get lost in going from home (on 6th main) to grandma's (on 13th main; on a straight road out). I finally found a way to get between these two places (and school, and music class, and sanskrit class, and BFF's house, and, of course cavitha circulating center cum library), by taking the same route over and over and over again with my sister and, well, CTM (Commit To Memory. Usually occurs with a small hand on the side in MBD Guide Books and their ilk). To test me, she would start out on another route to the same place and ask me, 'So tell me, which way to turn now?' - I would frankly admit that I had no clue whatsoever. But my sister had her fun I suppose.

In adulthood, the situation is no better. In fact, I would say its worse. I am living in bigger cities for one. Try as one might, its hard to get lost in Mysore (though I have achieved that feat several several times). There is all the crap with flyovers and construction and one-ways, for another. Guaranteed to fox even an internally GPS-ed individual, such as my husband (per his own claim). He is most unaccomodating of this feature of mine, though I have tried to play it as a possible medical condition, he thinks its just because I dont have a penis. This problem gets convoluted with my driving abhorrence and its a big muddle and mess and the source of many fights and arguments.

Of course you might hasten to think, this attitude of my closest has probably worsened the situation. But I will stoutly deny that. I am stronger than that. I will not allow the power of suggestion by them to take over my life. No, I will not, and have not. Heck who am I kidding. You two are at fault guys. Its not me, its them.

I have independently (without jeers jaunts and yelling) contemplated the situation in my own head. It cannot be a general dumbness or lack of intelligence. My IQ is quite high, I mean, it has always been (of course I have tested it many times, in proper pen and paper format when young and on those fake online sites now in computer age). I can feel the neurons connecting, when, say, I am at work. I have several constructive suggestions to people when they approach with issues not necessarily in Chemical Engineering. I manage to hold my head high and answer the monster's innumerable queries with confidence, I rock in interviews and exams and sudoku and what not. I suppose these things mean I am not an idiot. Heck. I know I am not an idiot. Quantified and certified. But my eyes do glaze over when people talk about money and mortgages and the SENSEX and interest rates. (zzzzzz). There is that. Hmmm.

Anyway this is a different, albeit persistent problem. However, I do well when reading maps, which means I don't have dysgraphia, really. I take a bit of time in orienting myself in a map (might just be a natural average amount of time, not sure how you all operate), but once I am on, and I have no distractions, I can navigate well. I have pored over miles and miles of US maps back in the day and except for one unfortunate Orlando trip where I made the driver (oops, husband) take four or five U-turns, I have been a rock-solid, reliable navigator. Or navigationalist, as I prefer to call myself. Hand me a sextant mateys.

So anyway to cut a long story short, I think google maps is awesome. In some ways its perfect for me. Armed with it, I never need to know the way to anywhere a-priori. Just have to follow the 'dot' . Apart from a few errors which are obvious if you research a bit, it has been really, a lot of fun and quite a life-saver in the past month. I don't have it on my phone (though I am contemplating an upgrade to the dreaded and most hated device of all; sell my soul to the devil why don't I along with it). So I sneak up on the driver(oops, husband)'s 'device' and try to figure it out. Or else, I do what every geek worth her salt would, I do my homework well in advance. I use googlemaps on my desktop, write down the salient points in my notebook (they would go clear out of my head if I tried to remember); talk to enough local people (i.e. auto drivers) to know what to call what and how best to provide crisp directions, find out phone number of place I intend to visit, harass them and ask them for nearby landmarks, and, unashamedly pay extra if I have mistaken something they said.

Thus I have found, on my own (with just a little bit of help from the internet and the phone and the blackberry dot and simply by paying auto drivers whatever they ask for, which is never within reason):
1. Nearby grocery store, and am 1/2 on this (meaning went twice got lost once but eventually found it Rs.40 later).
2. Gas Cylinder stores (Both Govt. and Private), and, though I stressed a bit about it, I did not get lost getting there a second time.
3. Nilgiris and Ambika Appalam branches in nearby areas (merely for future reference).
4. Bus Ticket place in two nearby areas (yeah am leaving tomorrow on a weekend trip).
5. Crossword & Landmark stores (for gift type things and well, you know, could not resist a few myself).
6. E-zone (per WJ's advice, bought a new hob since piped gas thingies).
7. Bata (school!!!).
8. Sugan uniforms (2/3 on this - got lost once) in Pondy Bazaar (reputed and only approved supplier)
9. Kesavan Tailors in Nadhamuni St. (the pinafore is BELOW the knee, horrid).
More pertinently, I am now confidently rolling off my tongue, TTK Road and Venkatnarayana Road and Nandanam Signal and heck, even Venkatesan Road. For now I can get to those places as well. Knowing me, I will forget everything in about a days time, and that is when I really hope my newly discovered crutches (and notes thereof) will help.

And meanwhile, what I find is that in case you possess a penis (or are a woman unknown to my husband but possessed with superior direction sense - my sister thinks she does have such sense but there have not been situations enough for my husband to comment on this matter, and, since he has gotten lost enough times in getting to her place in New Jersey, and vice versa when she visits me in Mumbai, they don't like to talk much about this matter to each other), then this whole GPS business is actually a bad thing for you. Because it makes you get out of the habit of having mental images of places and routes and makes you rely on following a dot (or listening to gawd awful peremptory TURN LEFT IN 3 METRES type commands - heavens what IS that they affix on unsuspecting cars), and eventually, over the years, will dumb you down. I, meanwhile, will be waiting to get my revenge, beware.

Musing Still; Missing Some

Oh Feck it! I will still muse from Mumbai. What the hell difference will it make to anyone? I mean, ludwig tells me, in a frank admission of sorts, that my Hindi is 'atrocious' - though he had to accept that he could not illustrate with anectodal examples. Demmit. My tamil, by my own admission, is worse. So I suppose I could speak Hindi in Chennai and be considered a pundit of sorts. But wait, you have to have passed all those 'Yek Gaon Mein Yek Kisaan Raghu Thatha' type exams to be a Hindi Pundit in Chennai.

I miss my two ladies. I curse them. They irritate me endlessly. They don't sweep behind any furniture, they make baigan sambar with baigan subji. They borrow money endlessly. But I miss them. We nearly cried at our parting. Although its for a year. I would have brought them I think but I would been more irritated by them as they would be fully dependent on me. Plus they don't talk to each other already and so they would fight as well.

I miss using my bad Hindi and getting the house fixed up. I did it enough number of times in Mumbai and got in to a groove of sorts with it. Here its not the same. I mean, its never fun, but here it is less and less fun. Plus my legs ache from climbing up and down the stairs one million times. And still no sign of internet. Today a water heater fell down on the floor and spouted water. A gigantic water heater. Hateful thing.

Election day here today. The drivers tried to tell me that people are vettufying people and can I please chill at home. I had just returned from a useless trip trying to find a damn bookstore open in this city. I suppose they used an aruvaal and vettufied. One guy tried to involve me in a deep political discussion on ruling party versus opposition. I used technique no. b (hmmm. Yeah. True. Aaama Aaama. Yenna Kaalam)

Why does the monkey speak like Arshad Warsi? I just don't understand. But I do wish a Pashu Pakshi Kendriya Vidyalaya would actually exist so I can send my daughter to it. She will fit very well in there, the monkey (despite not speaking like Arshad Warsi; nor even being able to dance like him).

I am not yet living in my own home. I mean, I cannot manage without Aquaguard water (srgntpepper, say what you will, I am NOT drinking tap water, nor am I going the other extreme and buying Bisleri to bathe in, lets say this is my middle ground). Today Kumar(x) - his name might be Bala - said, madam, the water tank should be cleaned. I was like ewwwwww wonder what is in it.

So anyway I am off again. Destination: New England & York. I hope the monster behaves itself. I am planning on using serious technique on it. I have several friends offering to cook for us. Why? I mean, might as well eat out right. Pizzeria Uno. Yumm. I have to see if the husband (unadventurous eater to beat them all) will still eat the same old Spinnocoli.

Chill people. Now rhinos and hippos are eating. Poor shamsher singh. (I must be hungry, all this talk and thought of food. Thank heaven for this guest house I am living in).

Reflections on another trip

Jet airways sent me an ominous email last week. "We see you have not used our services for more than two months now" or something like that. For a moment I stopped and wondered how that could be so. I mean I am a consultant's wife dammit. Then it occurred that in late December and early January when we took our holiday we tried other airlines since we booked so late and holiday prices were so crazy. Indigo we tried and regretted immensely. Go Air we tried and it was bad but no so bad although I did eat a sandwich (which I bought of course) on the flight and lived to not have typhoid from it, on second thoughts, luckily enough, and good on you Go Air. January was busy with so much. February was when I was sick for a big chunk of time. And then there is March which we are at right now.

So Wednesday night I fought long and hard with the website and booked our tickets. The screen refreshed three times and I had to begin at the beginning and thank heavens I don't have a blasted middle name but gosh I wish I could just remember my Jet Privilege number stored on my mobile ever since I lost the blue membership card, and child, can you please not talk when I am so tired and having to enter credit card numbers so many times. Anyway they SMS confirmed my booking. My email took the opportunity to fail at that juncture. So I had the PNR but no copy of ticket. I called them and they helpfully suggested I get it at the airport when I show up. I absolutely thoroughly HATE that because you have to budget extra time for such things. I finally managed to pull the ticket up from the web-page and print it out at like 10 pm. Thankfully I was all glowing and pleased since they gave me 10% off for travelling on women's day and being, you know, of the feminine gender.

Chennai was hot as ever. I am still not at my usual levels of energy so I ended up being dog-tired every single day. But it was all fun. Met with our friends. The little girl gave me a bunch of flowers, for you Maami, she said. I asked what flower it was and she said Frangipani. Now I know what that is. This is why I love children, they teach you so many good things. Saw my little niece. Who has more hair than I do. Who curled up in my lap and slept off cutely. Who oozed cuteness even when she completely refused any food that was offerred and also threw up on my jeans. And who cried her guts out at the sight of my husband till he spent fifteen minutes completely pataoing her, and then reserved her giggles, smiles and all nature of coquetry for him for the rest of the visit. Monster and I spied a KINGFISHER bird. A real live one. I was hanging out drinking tea in the morning when she clackety-clacked down the stairs and started chattering. I was half-way paying attention even when she claimed she was looking at a kingfisher outside. But then when I turned around and saw it, I almost fell out of my chair. What lovely colouring that bird has.

One of my college friends' kids thread ceremony yesterday. Tired and thinking of flight in afternoon, I went anyway. Kid was cute in his dhoti and so on. Friend in her nine yards, every inch the responsible, proud mum. Good for her! Her mother, whom I knew from our college days, was there, bubbling with energy. Me in my sari nevertheless received comments that I had hardly changed from back then. But part of that is the typhoid. Blouse was loose (I dislike that but since pregnancy it has been a constant problem, both ways, tightness and looseness. And now I cannot do anything about it till I stabilise in terms of weight. Gah). I had to leave early and the monster ate up most of the big murukku I got to take back home. I used my time there usefully to play with a little girl from Bangalore (monster was home with her cousin, I went alone), who wrote all the hindi vowels for me on the back of my Jet Airways ticket, and then proceeded to draw stick people whom she coloured pink - which was the only crayon I could find in my purse. But then it matched with the Alpenliebe I gave her from my purse for having a birthday on Saturday. So it was cool (and yes, the hall was air-conditioned as well).

Went to a bunch of schools. Hated the fact that they took my baby away and made her give tests for up to forty-five minutes each. "Cut the cord Kenny" was the husband's response, though I am sure he felt it too. Felt relieved when one of them agreed to take her in I standard. Watched in horror in one school when my opinionated and head-strong monster stomped out of the room when the lady (Vice Principal) said, she is too young for I standard, I can only take her in UKG. "I will NOT study in UKG again" the monster said (thankfully not overly loudly but I am sure Vice-Principal lady heard her) and took off to play in the slides and swings outside while I smoothed the lady's feathers and commended her on her unique school and gushed about how excited I was at the possibility of being admitted there. Its all a big racket. Everyone insists their school uses unique methods for teaching. I am cynical about it all. I mean I was cynical two years ago when I decided to avoid all the hip and happening schools of the area and put her in the campus school. And nothing has changed.

In a sense I am glad to be back. I still have some way to go in terms of recovery. And I am really liking my new place here with the flowers and what not. And mum is here though she is incessantly on my case about our moving again and what not, the food is yummalicious and everything seems a little easier. My mother-in-law has strongly suggested I quit worrying about my cholesterol and eat well and gain my weight back, which I am using as an excuse to indulge in chocolates a little. But now its time for lunch so off I go.

Oh! There was an agenda!

Apparently, the annual alumni meet is supposed to shake the world. Yes, such are the delusions prevalent in my alma matter to date. At least, knowing it as I do, the alma matter could care a rat's ass but the well-placed alumni feel this is an occasion to pontificate at length and have panel discussions and other such jazz, and, at the end, breathe a collective sigh of contentment and exclaim on how effective and wonderful and wondrous and so on the whole thing was. 3000 people attended! Nine parallel tracks of discussions! Unbelievable number of ideas were generated! Such like. ludwig of course has it absolutely right when he calls it the wtf of the century.

I strolled in, monster in hand, and found this bloody ten foot board of small print indicating the various activities one could indulge in. The only relevant one was conveniently kept off the board of course (i.e. could not proclaim to the world that among our other important traits, as a unit, we are alcoholics). My eyes promptly glazed over. The monster took this opportunity to start scratching in the mud. Really. I mean you could have knocked me down with a feather. Never known her to do such things. Mind you, I had books in my back-pack, which I of course was not going to release as yet. She scratched in various colours of mud, and since thankfully her father was away some where, I just let her, only having palpitations when she got too close to the main road as she was playing.

Several frantic messages later I was joined by our girl gang and their paraphernalia. I vetoed all suggestions of attending sessions, made all of them hang out in the coffee area, encouraged the children to follow my daughter as she jumped up and down some yellow bean bags in the exhibition area, and happily drank some juice that one of the kindly husbands bought for all of us. Then was lunch. Which was a nasty combination of unpalatable things. I sat next to a three year old budding IPS officer from Kadapa, and marvelled at his adventurousness in sampling all the shady things that were included in our box of food. We then loped slowly over to our hostel to hang out. It was really beautiful. We all felt really nostalgic, but in a happy sort of way. We talked schools and kids, and of course, all the vague things that we remembered from those long ago days when we queued up there to brush our teeth.

The kids were awesome. I could not play much with them because really, Chennai was too hot for human consumption (even for a semi-Mumbaiite). It was a pleasant surprise to find the husbands so cool and accomodating of our madness. Of course I also met a lot of my husband's friends many of whose names I promptly forgot. Plus I had a long-ish run (the idea was to run 20 k but I chickened out after 8 k thanks to foot); an excellent game of basketball (which improved my foot's condition somehow :-)), both on campus, and another short but fast run of about 6 k outside the campus. Met with our Californian friends (who have returned home to roost in Chennai), visited the most beautiful campus of The School (just too awesome), had an official meeting (where I got immensely pained because, get this, some one slimed into the office as I was having my meeting and refused to leave, plus he kept talking, idiot, I wish sometimes that I was blunter than I am), drank some poison called Kalyani Black Label (and regretted it immensely; give me my Kingfisher any day), showed off my hostel room (from the outside) to the monster, and of course, mom-daughter used the hostel loos (and lived to tell the tale).

One afternoon, while everyone was busy networking and whatever the shit they were doing, a bunch of us sat our asses down on some chairs in our usual coffee shop place. Nothing has changed there. He was even using the same nasty paper plates - the super flimsy ones that make Maggi Noodles spill out ignominously. People came and went. We just could not get up. Several suggestions were made. Lets do this. That. Or the other. But inertia ruled. The monster, thankfully, found full occupation in an emaciated kitten and its mother (who seemed to be playing hide and seek with each other). I gossiped a bit with my girl friend. Mainly things like who we are fatter than and who we are not fatter than. You know, the usual. Another of the girls came over. She tried to compare her beer belly with one of the guys. Yeah, while being dressed very primly in a major salwar suit. Totally crazy.

Finally since we were staying with friends and they had to go back to get their child, we forced ourselves to leave. But slowly. And having planned to meet a few more people over dinner that night. I got a lot of rest the next day, and although I did not even attend anything at all the entire time, it was all very awesome and completely jam packed. It was really nice to see all the familiar faces and compare notes about children. And the children themselves were all so absolutely darling. Unlike this whiny boy who was on the flight with me just now and who kept going 'DADDY DADDY' in the world's most irritating voice. Grr.

Back at the helm, as it were, damn tired and eyes bugging out though. Its too damn hot ya. Meanwhile the husband has come up with three important points to consider regarding Chennai:
1. Booze is not to be had by ringing up at Two-Five-Seven-Zero-One-One-One-Nine. No sir.
2. The weather. Seriously. Should borrow some Bangalore into the city (minus the LPG fumes).
3. Gas Cylinders (As if the man cares about this, really, but he objects. They offend his sensitive eye).
And has dismissed my points such as (a) Salwar Kameezes (help!) (b) People waking up and talking loudly at 5 am (c) Unnecessary traffic and fly-over type situations.