Touchin Wood and all other lucky materials

Life's good.
After the hectic pace of the last couple of weeks, it was good to have this nice and slow weekend. Warm and fuzzy feelings abound-feelings akin to hugging a fluffy cloud- and they were brought on by the most trivial of reasons. But hey, there never was a rule for happy moments to be ushered in only by the grandest of causes or the most enormous events. I digress from my never ending travelogue to record the 10 happiness inducing moments-if only, for the fear that a few years down the line, when I'm old and haggard or just plain stupid, I might forget that it doesnt take too much to be happy and content and that bucking the popular theory of judgement by comparison, happiness exists as an absolute, with no need for damn benchmarks.
1. Waking up to perfect filter coffee made by the boyfriend who's now husband but will forever be boyfriend first :)
2. Losing my phone in a cab but gaining a gorgeous E66 as a replacement. I know what a silver lining is-I carry one in my bag.
3. Lying down on a bench in East coast park, staring at the sky & the palm trees, while the ipod belted out my favorite melodies, even on random "shuffle" mode.
4. Taking a leap of faith and straightening my hair-only to realize that I dont really miss my curls and that change can be good.
5. Interacting with the smartest 2 yr old I've ever met and getting about 10,000 unconditional smiles from him :)
6. Receiving an unexpected pay hike.
7. Getting free candy from cabbie uncle, who told us it was part of his daily routine and that he spends 50 dollars a month distributing candy to his passengers-If this ain't Santa, who is?
8. The prospect of a YKY-II in Mumbai, with girlie time, gossip, wine, good food and full attendance.
9. Buying groceries and getting order into my kitchen- well, something on this list had to be about better control, right? Even something as mundane as a 10 compartment spice tray counts.
10. Catching an old snap of me and M and sighing in a moony-eyed way about how he continues to be my best friend. A best friend with benefits :) (sorry for stealing words, Alanis)
So nett, I'm as happy as the babies that you see in Anne whatzername's calendar or closer home, in the J&J commercials. And since I'm heading to be as fat & chubby as those adorable younguns-now's the time to move the "tashreef" and let exercise give me a biological reason to be happier.
*To happiness-may the pursuit keep my feet on the ground even while the spirit's soaring sky high *
ps-Gving myself only 2 more weeks to wrap up the 2007 Europe trip. Hope to honour the commitment. Whack me if you sense a lack of inclination. Conditions apply.

Roma-13th Sept 2007

FIFO. (For those who've been lying in the dungeons of acronym land-First In, First Out)

Am applying this to restore order and to finally finish what I started last year- My Europe travel diary. Other interesting and life altering events have since, taken place but knowing that my memory is only marginally better than Dory, I will keep that narration for later.

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And so, G and I headed to the eternal city of Rome. The train journey was pretty uneventful-of course, there was the unkempt artist who sneaked in a portrait of G and the cheeky steward who spared me a knife and fork and also a kiss on my hand- but then this was Europe and we had heard enough about the Italian penchant for flamboyance. Any gents attempting this in a train in India would have said hello to my heels.

The start was less than perfect- after a 3 hour delay, I realized my body clock had gone cuckoo at the wrong time and to add to the misery, we lost our way- we spent about 15 mins walking in the wrong direction! A heavy bag and cramps can really alter your perception of time and space!!

Help came in the form of two charming Italian guys who directed us to Via Boezio- where stood our abode for the next 3 days.

Colors hostel (http://www.colorshotel.com/) lives upto its name and reputation- It was bright, cheery and well, colorful. The rooms are huge and airy; the bath/toilets-clean and very well maintained. I might sound a little senile raving about hygeine factors but trust me, the privacy of an attached loo and bath was a welcome change after the very tiny and very open Paris bathroom.

G did the groceries and whipped us a delicious salad and pasta. (Colors has a well stocked kitchen and a lovely dining area). That was followed by a walk to Castle St. Angelo, a rather dilapidated building which is now a museum and then along the Tiber.

The phenomenon of generosity from absolute strangers was to become a common theme for this trip-the Bangladeshi porter who refused to charge us for the internet joined the Generous strangers club. He also plied us with his own story and other sordid tales of Italy. He described Italy as a the dustbin of Europe!- something which shocked us when he said it, but gradually struck us a near-truth- the place is full of grafitti, pick pocketing and corruption (there are touts outside the Vatican Museum who let you cut the queue for 40 euros when the standard admission fees is 13 euros). The first impression led me to despair- was this another country ready to neglect everything in the present and content in resting on past laurels? Though not ready to write off Rome- admittedly, my first impression of Rome wasn't all that great. The place seemed to have neither the charm of Paris nor the dynamism of London....And then, we had Italian food and all the above was promptly forgiven and forgotten.

This was G's day-News about the Pasricha Index (http://www.financialexpress.com/news/How-financially-open-is-India/216177/0) travelled far and wide and gave us a superb reason to celebrate. We went to a nearby restaurant and enjoyed a marvellous dinner- Pizza, white wine and Tiramisu. Both the pizza and the dessert were top-notch, melt-in-the-mouth fare. I must rave about the pizza- it had just the right flavors, a divinely thin crust and enough and more veggies to keep me happy-in short, it was, what pizza should aspire to be-definitely not the overdone mass of cheese, maida and ketchup that usual pizza companies serve their sorry customers.

Mood was sufficiently uplifted by the dinner and yes, the wine also played a role. The after-dinner course was an hour of peppy Hindi numbers (baadal pe paon hain etc..), before finally hitting the sack at 1 am.

The Roman holiday had begun.

Teaser

Open Letter to Sheen
Yes.
I will update my blog.
Will surmount the problem of plenty.
Of abundant thoughts and events.
That I simply can't sort or rank.
And if I tell it all in one go.
It will resemble this lumpy mess of a post.
So wait, dear Sheen while I gather my thoughts
and brew something more palatable.
The potion will be bittersweet, even if the wait isn't.

Much love,

QQ

Birthday month tribute

You know you are in your late 20's when:

• You read about someone who's 16 and won a gold medal or invented something cool, and curse under your breath because it's been 10 goddamn years and you are nowhere closer to winning a medal or inventing something cool.
• The only question you ever get asked is "so when are you giving us the good news", which depending on whether you are single or not, could be interpreted as "when are you getting married"/ "when are you producing babies"/"tell us you are confident of your sexuality".
• Everyone around you seems to be questioning their purpose in life-surely it's not to be a best friend to excel sheets or the master proponet of jargon or to sell stuff to people who are doing perfectly well without it.
• Parents, relatives or sundry other do-gooders try pulling off stunts on shaadi.com to "help you settle you down" once and for all.
• Life emerges from the cubicle to pay a fleeting visit during weekends and vacations.
• You find your general likes and dislikes in life have really changed-it could be with the decade or less that's passed by when you discovered and froze opinions in your brain and now.
• Your nieces and nephews are on orkut and facebook or whatever the latest networking site is and say stuff like "wassup, coolio and adios" that totally freaks you out.
• Strangers with kids always make it a point to address you as "auntie/ uncle" and you cringe because two years back, "didi/bhaiya" would not have been totally out of question.
• Your body metabolism ain't what it used to be and a gym membership seems worth it.
• Health in general, begins to establish itself as a matter that needs attention.
• You suffer from intermittent neck/back/muscle pain and have been told your posture needs to improve. Damn the desk job.
• You yearn to study more or change your line of work or if not, emit anxious cribs about assignments and bosses that suck.
• Your hair line is either receding or you have lost count of grey hair. Either ways, a hair stylist occupies the place next to God.
• There are clothes in your wardrobe that you deem "too young"/ "fit for a teenybopper" but yet dont' want to let go of. Not until you turn 30 anyway.
• You have at least one fixed commitment (house/education loan or the likes) that binds you to your desk and your cribs.
• You wonder whether hostels in Europe will admit you. (They will, btw)
• The clock on your wrist isn't the only one ticking away.
• You click on the drop down menu on registration forms and it takes a while to scroll up to the year of your birth.
• More than half your country's population is younger than you. (Not if you are Japanese, though!)
• You regret both the time you spent growing up in a hurry and pretending to be a mature and responsible adult and the time when you yelled at your parents or stormed off in your ugly teens.
• You have at least one "what was I thinking" moment/ incident/ relationship that evokes regret and shudder and acts like an effective block against nostalgia.
• You realize there's so much more to life that you haven't a clue about and yet, that it's okay to discover answers one day a time.
• You joke about getting old and acting senile because you feel safe and invincible in the halo of the "twenty-something" tag.
• You write posts which do little to hide your underlying reluctance to turn older and your gross inability to turn wiser.

(I do think I will like this post when I turn 30. Yikes.)

Glorious 50-Time for a classic

At long last.
The 50th post.
I can't make it about the Bose ipod deck, though I would really like to.
*showing off comes naturally to Dahli wallahs*
Instead, I'll mark the milestone with a link to the song that I adored as a kid. I think I saw the video in 1988/89 as part of some Grammy awards special. Love at first sight. People remember this video for MJ's moves (actually, the gazillion times MJ does the Mithun thrust :P) My associations are a little different and as it turned out a little differently remembered too.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sEU9Q8NlOiY
I saw the video a few minutes back and couldn't help smiling-only the smile had precious little to do with benevolent nostalgia!! I forced myself to remember some reasons on why I remembered loving the video.......

I liked the rhythm of the song and the interlude (ta-da-da-daa-daa)
To the untrained ears & eyes (mine) and the untainted mind (also, mine), it seemed like a cheeky song about high heels & loneliness, set to some really good music. (have noted childhood error in registering loveliness as loneliness-Stupid kid (me, not mine).
I liked MJ and his "aouuuhs". (I still like crazy people.)
I liked people dancing on the streets for no reason.
I liked that the ruffian gang danced so well and that their moves were so synchronized. ( I was proudly learning Bharatnatyam at that point in time.)
To say nothing of the curly haired chick (it was really reassuring to see a curly haired girl being shown as a (gulp)..."product of loveliness"- even back then I hated the fascination, that all people responsible for putting anything on TV, had for the straight hair brigade. I also liked the fact that the curly haired women outnumbered the girl with straight hair who wasn't much to look at anyway. 100 points to you for guessing that I have curly hair.
I was also fairly oblivious to the not-so-subtle hints to her profession given in the video. Not that it would have mattered. But it only seemed fair to list an omission in association. I also did forget to notice MJ's curly locks. Maybe I wasnt a stupid kid after all.

Ayway, don't pay attention to the cynic. It's a classic and you must go watch.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sEU9Q8NlOiY
Dont miss MJ's white belt; the psycho oldie who appears out of nowhere to give a thumbs up to him (for what-chasing a hooker down the street with a war cry?)and how Tatiana (curly haired chick) gets convinced that it's easier to deal with one "aoouuh crying weirdo" than 5 body slapping mutts. The music's good too.
And hey, before you go- this would be a nice time to wipe your shoes on the welcome mat and knock :) Good to know who's visiting.