Friday, August 12, 2005

Proposal rejected! Dejected Robbie takes a break!

My dear blogger friends,

The four months of summer have gone by like a breeze. It seems like I was forlorn and dejected just yesterday, but today I am brimming with confidence ready to take my career head on. I am unfortunately (or fortunately for some of you who detest this “RAANGI”) going to have to stop my blogging activities for a while. I do not know how long this is going to be. I am going to Pittsburgh tomorrow and I will be back a week later, I will keep visiting all your blogs, but don't think I will have time to write anything. I have a busy semester coming up; teaching, studying and research will become my full time occupation. I hope to keep in touch with all of you wonderful people someway or the other. I might sneak in a post or two in-between so do keep checking back.
Orange pixel happens to be my apartment mate and she paints really well, do visit her site often and leave your valuable comments.
I hope to catch you guys sometime soon.
Thank you very much for inspiring me to write,
Bye

Thursday, August 11, 2005

PROPOSAL

picture courtesy: http://www.1st-art-gallery.com
Eyebrows black, eyes deep set,
A beautiful smile rides her cheeks,
Her nose an abberation,
Lips that soothe the imperfection,
Tresses of hair that mystify,
a neck that begs to be kissed,
In totality...
A Poetry in motion,
Will you be mine?

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

THE UNIVERSAL BINDING FACTOR! (smile Mr.Narayanan!)

I got inspired to post this after reading cosmic blobs post on the universal binding factor (click here to read blob's post). I caught this tiger in action when I visited the national zoo here in Washington DC a couple of years ago.

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

Remembering appa...


August 8 1992 will be etched in my memory forever. It was the day I lost my guiding light, my idol and mentor- my grandfather. Ever since my mother gave birth to me, on that fateful day in 1978 it has been my grandparents and aunts who have brought me up. I was left with my grandparents because of a complication I developed to the BCG vaccine. I had a big boil in my left armpit and my parents could not take me with them to Calcutta. My mother left me with her parents hoping to come back and take me with her in a year. For nearly a year I was rendered immobile by the boil in my armpit, nobody could lift me or carry me around; my grandmother tells me that I used to cry all the time because of the pain. My boil finally broke and hell broke loose. I was a very naughty child, breaking and smashing everything that was in my way. My grandparents and aunts got very attached to this incredibly naughty child.

When my mother came back after a year to take me back, my grandfather told her that he would bring me up as his 11th child (my grand mom bore 7 daughters and 3 sons). After a lot of deliberation my mother finally gave in to his requests and left me behind in Salem. I called my grandfather appa and my grandmother amma. They were my parents. To this day I have never felt like calling my biological parents as amma and appa.

My grandfather was a very charming, sweet and an incredibly wise man. He recognized the evils of caste system and treated everyone equally. I observed him with great interest in my formative years. Everyone seemed to respect him so much. My grand mom used to tell me stories of how my grandfather would occasionally eat meat on social occasions with his Muslim friends. He spoilt me with the best chocolates in town. He never forgot to get me chocolates when he came back from work.

My grandfather was a mining engineer. The entire household would be up and awake at 4 AM! He used to leave for work at 5, my grand mom would wake up at 3 AM every day to make him a delicious breakfast and pack his lunch before he left. My grandfather was my alarm clock; he would kick me out of bed, before school. By the time I reached my 3rd grade he had retired from his work and his full time job was to get me ready to school. My school started very early and he would keep yelling my name at 5:15, I would keep tossing and turning in my bed acting like I never heard him. He would finally lose patience at 5:30 and give me a big kick! I swear he would kick me out of bed literally. After kicking me out of bed he would go straight to the kitchen to help my grand mom, cutting all the vegetables for her while she bickered about “issues” or complain about some mischief I did the previous day. I would go to the kitchen after brushing my teeth still half asleep and lie down on his lap immediately. He would cool my steaming cup of “maltova” down while I slept a little bit extra on his cozy lap.

I will never forget the advice my grandfather gave me when my father took me to Coimbatore for the sacred thread ceremony. I detested the idea of wearing a sacred thread and was fighting with my father, telling him that I would never attend the ceremony. My grandfather took me aside and told me that I could remove it as soon as I came back home ( I never went back to my parents, they used to visit me once in a while and suddenly tell me that I had to come with them for such ceremonies, I always disliked my father because of such things).

I also cannot forget Thursdays, for it was saibaba day and my grandmother used to make delicious sweets as prasadam. On one such Thursday my grandfather gave me a beautiful surprise. I was in my 7th grade then and was involved in a number of cycling expeditions in and around Salem. I was using my uncle’s old bike then, it was nearing its death and cycling was becoming a pain. It was a Thursday morning and I was leaving to school on my rotten bike, my grandfather stopped me and asked me to show him my bike. He took all the time in the world to have a close look at it and then suddenly realizing that time was ticking by, sent me packing to school. I came back home after school tired and excited to find out what my grand mom had made as prasadam. My grandfather was waiting for me at the gate, he told me that my grand mom had made delicious gulab jamoon and that I had to wait outside till she finished making it. I was surprised at this because I was never stopped outside the house for something like a gulab jamoon, I pushed my grandfather aside and ran into the house straight to the pooja room, there in front of me stood a brand new all terrain bike. I was yelping with joy, hugging and kissing my poor grandfather, nearly strangling him.

I want to end here before I break down remembering the last few years he was with me. Those memories will never fade. I was in my 10th grade when he left me forever.
Appa, I don't know where you went, or where you are, but I will always have you in my heart...
I love you pa...

Monday, August 08, 2005

Is this bliss...?

pic courtesy http://www.searchforlight.org
I can’t get enough of it I thought,
Will I get another day?
Another minute, another second,
Just looking at her beautiful face,

Sadness dwelled in her laughter,
Lines that remain from days of sorrow,
Does she realize that I am admiring her?
Maybe...but it doesn’t matter.

It’s this moment that everyone wants,
A moment to relish the rest of our lives,
When a song about stars made her smile,
It doesn’t take much effort to smile does it?

AHAM: FOOD FOR THE SOUL

pic courtesy http://www.tendreams.org/rassouli.htm
I think its time I write about one blogsite I love to visit more than any other in recent times. It is Swahilya's blog. It is a pity that not many people visit her site and enjoy her succint well thought out posts. Let me try my best to describe her blog site. She writes about anything and everything but with a spiritual bent of mind. I know that I have raised a few eyebrows here by calling a spiritual blog my favorite despite my strong inclination towards science. Every time I visit her blogsite I come out having learned something or the other. Many a times I have personally requested her to write on different topics and she obliged every single time. I will run out of superlatives if I try to describe her writing style. I request all of you visiting my site to also visit hers. I would like to include a sample post from her blogsite. I had requested her to write on "HARNESSING THE MIND" a few days back and this is what she wrote...
Harnessing ...the Mind
The Mind. Man. Manas. Manu. Manidan. Manushan. Manush. Manisha. Manishi. Mansi, Mana or even Manam Pochu! It's an ocean in which we live and die. Just as fish are born in water and die and are again born and die. Man is born in the ocean of the mind and the cycle continues...till he gets out of it into the quiet expanse of stillness.In Manikkavasagar's Tiruvasagam, now made famous by Ilaiaraja, there is a beautiful verse: Pullagi, Poondagi, Puzhuvagi, Maramagi, Palvirugangalagi, Paravaiyai, Pambagi...vallasurar agi, Munivarai, Devarai...ella pirappum pirandilaithen. more...

Sunday, August 07, 2005

Kavya's reply to Tamil Brahmin guys!

I woke up at 4:00AM and found this reply to my previous post. I loved it so much that I decided to make it a separate post:P.
Thanks Kavya!
I got such a comment for my previous post when it was meant to defend women:P.
hey robbie,
ni santhya vanthanam panriya...ella la:) ioio solra madri kulikarthey ellai....ponnunga mattum (brahmin) ennum daily thala kulichutu...kousalya supraja nu thulasi madatha suthi varuvangala....nenapu than onakku...ni non veg sapdrathu ellaya...ponnunga sapta enna thappu...Excuse me...mothalla ni kalyana anathu aprom..pakathu vittu ponna site adikama eru...aprom talk abt infidelity...R u a virgin.??????????ask u r friends too...i know a lot of brahmin guys who goes to strip bar...as anonymous pointed out...Last this post is senseless please remove this and ask apology to all the brahmin girls...onakku goal ellati free a vidu....as u said mothalla onna clean panikko....u made me angry at 4:00 AMKavya

Saturday, August 06, 2005

A Conversation about Tamil Brahmin girls!

pic courtesy: http://www.twainquotes.com
Seems like I have been posting some very depressing poetry the last few days and for a change people want me write something light. Since, I am not a natural at cracking witty jokes, forgive me for what I am about to write might particularly not vibe well with feminists.
Recently I was in conversation about a hot topic with two other friends of mine, whose identities I do not prefer to reveal at this time. Remember, I was the one who wrote about anonymity? Okay! Before any of you decide to guess what the discussion was about, let me confess that it was about women and in particular Brahmin women.
What was the context?
Well, according to my friends Brahmin women these days are very sexually liberated, and that they in their blog sites discuss everything from how they started their day to how they ended their day including intricate details about how they made their sambars or their rasams. The other complaints were as follows
1.Brahmin women do not want to marry Brahmin men anymore they prefer macho “nonbrahmin” men.
2.Brahmin women have a craving for anything “nonbrahminical” including non vegetarian
3.Brahmin women do not follow the age old religious rituals or customs anymore
4.Infidelity is on an increase with Brahmin women
5.One cannot be sure if a Brahmin woman is a virgin or not before marriage.

I couldn’t help laughing at all this, I was wondering about how cheap we have all become to discuss women in such vein (I include myself in this category). I was born a Brahmin but I never had it as a goal to marry a Brahmin woman. My brother who was brought up by my parents with the most orthodox habits fell in love and married a “nonbrahmin” girl and he doesn’t regret it one bit. I wonder why we (the Brahmin community) separate ourselves from the other communities. I am sure many of you have counter arguments for this, but I can only look to clean my house before I point a finger at anyone else’s cleanliness.
Finally, I would like to include a very humorous post written by Raagarupini , Hope she won’t mind me publicizing her post.

Of astrology,the best homosexual couple I've seen and Chennai
Ahh...now that makes for a pretty mismatched title huh?Now,I just met these two guys who hail from my native in interior TN.Both middle-aged.Pretty typical conservative types.One is an astrologer S who promptly saw my jadagam (horoscope) and proclaimed that I was a caring,considering person who trusts people a tad too easily.No prizes for that Einsteinian prediction.But he did tell me that I will not lack for anything.Yeah well,is that a hint that I'm waaay too spoiled?I think so.First my parents,now my man.S says "aval amoham aa irupall.Avaluku enna kurachal".Can't translate that.Just means I will live a pretty decent life.The other guy C has a girlish voice and sells sarees and jewellery from home.He cracks amazingly funny jokes in Tamizh with a rod straight face.Kinda like Will and Jack from Will and Grace.But the difference is ,these guys are a couple.And they have been so from their days as youngsters.Even when they lived in the native (village!).And no one dares to question their relationship too.I don't know whether it's because no one thought of it that way or because both of them just don't give a damn.But it works.Very beautifully .Or so my mother says.Ah, now coming to Chennai ,where I moved recently-it's hot,it's humid,I have no air-conditioning at home (ancient house,rewiring will cost a bomb) and my PC is well,a Piece of Crap.It goes off promptly if I try to attempt any activity that goes on for more than fifteen minutes.Let's hope I can fix that.But, one thing I noticed and something we were told in our orientation course in college is that the traffic is miserable.No no,let's not talk about any other metros for now.B'lore even when I travelled recently has some lanes in residential areas especially where there is some semblance of calm.Bombay is raucous but it's four wheelers mostly.In Chennai-it's two wheelers,cars,buses,lorries.Everything that can move seems to be on the road!And on every possible lane.Not even the gullies in remote residential areas are spared.And the reason I know what I'm saying is right is because, -as the historian who lectured today pointed out,- most of the city's development was over within a certain span during the Raj.After that,a lot of expansion happened internally,as opposed to other cities where suburbs developed substantially.This has created a lot of hungaama in the heart of the city.The suburbs have caught up but much of the damage has been done internally.Let's not even get started on the lack of proper water supply.But actually,in toto,it's pretty decent.Home is on a main road.A tad noisy but I have every facility nearby.I have my two wheeler to cover short distances.The buses are bad but with a little juggling between auto,bus and my scooty I will do fine.But the acme of my ten month stay in Chennai will most definitely be college.I loved the place and my course and everything about it.Plus,doing journo and that too broadcast journo in a city with this much history will be a pleasure.I hope to be a busy busy lady. :)As always I look forward to this new chapter with childish inquisitivity,zeal and lots of joie de vivre.Only thing is,as per that guy S's predictions I will be married by next year.:D



Wednesday, August 03, 2005

Frozen memories...

picture courtesy: http://sprott.physics.wisc.edu/
It was a dark autumn night,
The leaves had dried out,
A silent wind blew in the cool breeze,
The birds were sleeping in the warmth of their nest,
A distant sound was sweeping in,
An owl crept close to my window,
It put its ear on the glass as if eavesdropping,
Its dark eyes peered into my room,
I opened the window
It didn't move
I was surprised at its ignorance,
It was looking past me into the emptiness that surrounded me,
Tears seemed pouring from its expressive eyes,
It suddenly flapped its wings and took off shrieking loudly,
I turned around and looked at the blur which was now clear,
A beautiful apparition was there in front of me
I gasped for breath suffocated by the sight,
She stared at me in bewilderment,
Walked up to me and whispered those words into my ears,
My brain froze as if in a coma,
Searing pain shook my limbs,
Lightening struck and lit up the darkest patch of dry land,
It was the beginning of a silent storm of...
FROZEN MEMORIES