My mood is my desktop

Ever since I got a new pc in the office, I have taken up a couple of new interesting habits. Like, I walk in to the cubicle and paav laagu my pc, nariyal phodo on my desk and aarti utaaru the chair. Then pour some water on the keyboard, put a tikha on the screen, and offer some sweets to the CPU.

Ok, that was a joke and you were supposed to throw a fit of laughter at my poor sense of humor. Since you dint, I shall get into some details of my new 'above mentioned' habits. Previously, I had a old pc which was so old that even the mainframe comps got sharmofied looking at it. It was huge like a 21’’ tv and had greyed with time. The keyboard made weird munching sounds and snaily slow. I respected it a lot as it was elder to me in many ways.

Then one fine day, the sun was shinning bright, the wind was blowing softly, the birds chirping happily, and it was spring time. (You remember that scene from Jism where our Bips babe emerges dripping wet from the waves? Now, I dint know what she was doing there at such early hours, dressed to party?)-

And, I got a new sexy black pc. Now, a seducing black, sleek, and updated Dell babe flutters her eye lashes at me. But she cannot compete with my handsome lappy darling *kissing my lappy fella*

Anyway, with this new pc I decided to cheer myself everyday with something very colorful. All this time, I had a picture of my bro and me in a beary hug as my desktop. It always made me miss home, that too early in the morning when I walked into office. The colorful desktop theme hit my brainy fella and now, my compy talks to me about "me". Eh?

Confusing? Nah, It’s very simple.

1. walk to you cubicle
2. Turn your compy on
3. Open Google images
4. Google for the mood you are in
5. Decide on the picture that best suits your mood
6. Save it as you wallpaper
7. (optional) Change it every time your mood changes

I must confess that it has made my days more interesting in many ways. When I think about the current mood, I try to cheer myself up to get the most bright and colorful wallpaper. I always go for very vibrant colors and themes. It is very interesting to Google for these images too and sometimes I cannot decide the best picture to select.

When my mood changes, I change the pic and it does pep me up to a greqat extent. I try to be cheerful all the time to keep nice wallpaper and that is something I look forward to do. And everytime the screen gets locked I have a very vibrant pic greeting me back. I, kinda feel motivated with this new habit coz it helps me to breeze through my day.

For today I had a very bright coconut tree on my screen. When I was coming to office, it was cloudy and I remembered my rainy days in Mlore. I loved to see the rain drop from the coconut tree leaves. And this tree signifies a lot of things, it is called ‘kalpavriksha’ and it was also my school emblem. It was nice to see this on my screen the whole day.

Yesterday I had bright gerberas on my screen. Pink, yellow, red, simply because I was in a very chirpy mood. I have also had bright roses, blue sea, rainbows, pencils, bikes, ice creams, and other couples of things as my wallpapers. Everything which suited my mood perfectly then, at that time.

Now, I have something fun awaiting me every morning when I walk into the office. Something colourful, something fun, something I look forward to.

So, what will it be next?

Jo biwi se kare pyaar, woh 'cooker' se kaise kare inkar ?

After the prolonged absence from my world of innately insane random thoughts, I am back! (hands on the hip)
*thud*

I am back! (Flapping my arms in Shaktimaan style)
*thud thud*

I AM BACK !!! (tenten teeen..music)
*thud thud thud*

Ok, it’s not a thing to celebrate, knowing, that I will be religiously involved in posting highly not-so-sensible posts, but common, cheering a demented soul brings out the best in her.
Na, says not me, but a certain ancient ‘skanda puraan’.
(I have no clue if we have such puran, but I heard about it in a comedy drama)

Past few weeks have been quite occupying in terms of my social life and office work. With all the extracting extra efforts my dear brainy was left drained of all his otherwise enthu self. Tanhayee was not seen for a few days and bloggy was hibernating. In short, I was off market with not much access to my lappy. *kisses her lappy*

Then I thought, if Lolo babe can give a grand re-entry, so can I. *hmpf* Hence I tried on a entry with flapping wings, colourful attire, bangining music in the Shaktimaan style and a smirky look on my face. Looks like it is not all that grand, next time I will try on the James Bond estyle.

About the dinner date I had with a friend, I must say it was wonderful. She cooks awesome and I greedily hogged the dishes clean. I literally looked like I had recently immigrated from the starve zone of Somalia. I doubt if she had to wash any of my bowls or plates. I can proudly brim that I can qualify to be the Jim Licker of the year!

The li’l doll (her daughter)kept me occupied with her li’l baby games and I enjoyed making ducky voices. Er, for those unaware of my talented living, I can talk like the tweety bird in the Sylvester cartoons, making “I thot I thaw a putty kat, yeet, I deed I deed” voices. I can actually talk like that for hours and once a new lecturer in my college had a fit when I went quacking around on her first day.

Anyway, back to the baby, shes small (as all babies are), she cute(as all babies are) and very very observing (not all babies are). I did like this coz she kept staring at me for reasons known only to her. Her actions complete with a small frown and raised eyebrow. My conclusion, er, she found me very interesting ?

The best part of meeting them is that I finally found someone who rides a bike on SD freeways. I have been crazily waiting for a chance to get some air in my hair and hopfully my wish will be grnated sometime soon. To add, I was surprised to see a desi family have a bike and a convertible and a couple of mountain bikes. Er, desis here are usually synonym with Honda and Toyota. No offense meant.

And I got a late night drive back on the convertible. The frog in me was so thrilled that he still gives a croak when he thinks of the bikes. On a thoughtful note, I hope the guy I marry will have a passion for bikes; else he will have a mega shock of his life when he sees me drool over those sexy 2 wheelers. Ok, I drool over the Johnny guy too.

Observing my activities of the past few days, I can say that I am emerging into a new ‘cook’ on the block. Yes, I have been cooking, in large scale. My culinary skills are getting better with my stay in US and some distinct fusionary dishes steam in my cauldron.

This reminded me of my first cooking experience as a kid. I learnt it in a primitive way. Our house backyard had different varieties of flowers, fruits, leaves and ants. I would put 3 stones together, assembles few dry twigs, and light a minuscule fire. Then pour some water into a tiny vessel (which was to be used for more domestic games) and add all the buds I could gather. My special dish was fried black ants which I managed to make painstakingly after running behind the ants and getting a few bites. My blissful cooking habits ceased when Ma threatened to replace me in the vessel instead of the ants. Then, I never realised that the huge me would never fit into the tiny vessel. I was such an innocent darling, you see.

Anyway, I did some decent cooking during my days as a Guide. Yeah, the one where you wear blue uniform, tie a scarf around your neck, tie neat pig tails, and salute with 3 fingers. We did dry cooking, wet cooking, camp cooking, and other stuff to earn ourselves a few proficiency badges. I even made some pickle and jam, which was not much edible.

In school, we had these cooking competitions for which I participated with much enthu. I was in a team with 5 other friends who considered themselves budding Sanjay Kapoor. Those were the days of Khana Khazan in Zee tv. Anyway, our Ma’s would pack us all the needed stuff in right measures and we would gladly add everything in pans and try making the best of our limited talents. I still pity the judges who had to bear all our trials.

My best exploiting memory is the way we made the ‘kashi halwa’. The whole pan fell off from the stove and landed on the floor with the raw mixture scattered on the floor. We gathered the whole thing back, every bit, every grain, every dryfruit and made the halwa. Trust me; none of us took a bite even to taste it. But the judges happily munched on the sweet and gave us some real good points. That day I took an oath, never to be the judge in any cooking competition.

My next mega disaster was a Custard that I made. Everything went fine till I added maida and heated it on high flames. The whole thing transformed into a gluey mess. It looked like custard, but tasted more like a homemade starch. My darling dad had some to keep my heart and so did my bro, and for the next two days they were not so fine.

After many such disastrous attempts, I took a few sensible cooking classes from Ma. It took immense patience at her end to tame the implusive me from burning the house down but yes, I did learn. From her, from the cookery shows, from the books and my own trial error methods. Now, I cook decent and report no harmful events.

I refined my cooking skills to make decent dishes which my bro liked. I loved to feed him with his favourites and it was a pleasure to see him relish. When I look at my signature recipies I realise that most of them are the ones which he likes. I guess, he was partly responsible for my cooking enthu.

Coming to the US was the last straw in my cooker life ( I want to call myself cooker, any problems?). Being a veggie, my only option was to chew the cud. I dint wanna spend a year of my life on garden burgers and iceberg salads. It was hard to get the desi grocery initially but with a few tips and tricks, I am doing fine now. I can make fried rice to mushroom kurma, hot southie coffee to thick mango lassi, typical amchi curry to stuffed aaloo paratha.

While at it, I must confess that one of my ambitions (yes, I had several and due to the non-coperating nature of my parents, I have not been able to realise any of them), was to have a blue colour 'gaadi' by the roadside and make egg omelettes. Maybe, upon my return I can think of diverse opportunities.

And I am yet to reply to all the comments in the previous posts which I shall do sometime soon. I also need to visit all the fella bloggies who have been updated. And I am planning to host a dinner party for my Mr.Blogs friends.

Please drop-in a note if your Mr.Blog/Ms.Blog will be present. Guests are very welcome, specially any chick bloggy babes.

On duty- Tooty Frooty

If any of the blogizen (city:citizen::blog:blogizen)thinks that I am high on my bipolar maniac disorder and have been scaring the insane people out of their innocent minds, Nah! Thats not the reason for my long absconding abscence.

I am yet to update the comments section of the previous posts, update bloggy with my highly insensible thoughts and yes, the complete update on my blind date. But, everything has to wait for a few days. These days my peanut butter brains is more sensible and projects less stupid flashes in his 70mm. (please note, I said less stupid-that means he still projects a few demented thoughts)

The reason: I am incharge of a li'l angel who still rests snuggly in his(universal ref) mom's care. And his mom happens to be this maasi's friend and maasi is incharge of the li'l angel till his daddy comes back. So, from a few days, I am tented in my friends home keeping myself well-behaved, er, atleast i try to.

I have been feeling his li'l feet do the kickoing, the li'l him tumbling happily and the li'l him trying to do some boxing. Lappy is forgotten, loud songs are curbed, dishum-dishum movies banned, and me sleeping early. Shocked? er, but when I think of tiny bundles of adoring babies, the devil in me sprouts white wings and a goden halo surrounds my head.

Oh, I need to mention the would-be mommy in question somewhere as she has already complained that I dont give her much importance. So, heres for the mommy too,(keeping the dinner in mind) who looks charming with that motherly glow. I have never seen her so radiant and glowing.

So, it will take a few more days for the rough-tough Hero to get back to her adda and get back to her tapori habits. Right now, she is busy doing baby shopping, drooling over the colourful toys, adoring the cute dresses and doing baby talks.

"gaa-gaa-goo-ulloo-chooo-oou-rroo"


Er, if you think why the heck does "tooty frooty" fit into the whole post, nope it does not. It just rhymed ???

Let us leave it with a stop

I could not believe my eyes when I saw the date when the last post was updated. It’s been almost a week and I have not taken pains to scratch a few lines. Nope, this is very very unlike me. This is a very grave matter in hand.

For the normal insane me (er, I know it’s an oxymoron, but I wriggle my nose at that) a couple of posts every week makes sense. To tell honestly, my 70 mm flat plasma screen runs full time disoriented thoughts on a mega scale and every time I get a urge to pull the brakes and key in words at a supersonic intensity to get a highly volatile post.

But, owing to the very disturbing facts and highly unavoidable circumstances I project these urges on some fruitful activities like making faces at the monitor, give random calls to clients, make colorful drawings for my cubicle and take print-out of the Johnny guy. *drool*

Today, I was shocked beyond words. Yes, one week is a real long time even to my lazy bones. So, keying some rumblings to glory. One more reason, now a super sexy black comp screen fluttering her eyelashes at me. Yes, I got a new comp at work, complete with optical mouse, touch keypad, black IP phone and equally powerful CPU. The thrilling part is that the whole sexy dame comes complete with yahoo messenger access.

Hehehehe, now that I have my Mona darling, where is the billi?

Just for reference:my lappy is a “HE”-the male, the hunk, the macho; my comp in office is a “SHE” –the dame, the chick, the seductress.
Why??? I don’t know, and I don’t care.

Our office had a picnic by the Mission Bay beach last Friday with loads of games and tons of food. I had to chomp the limited veggie stuff and feel happy with the games. *hmpf* But, hero did have a large scoop of rich choco icy and good share of candies.

Anyway, there was this game where they had a tiny bubble gum on a plate, covered it with abnormal quantity of whipped cream and tied our hands back. We were expected to find the gum with our nose dipped in cream, chew it and make a bubble out of it. The hero did a great job displaying her monkey traits and blew a decent bubble and won a $25 gift card to Macy’s.

*Hero bows with a grin to the whistling taporis*
(er, my nose smelt very sweet later on, owing to the amount of cream iced inside my nose)

With this new comp, I have been yahooing with all the fellow taporis for a good amount of time. Also, it lets me keep a track of my bro’s late night activity. Seems like he is doing too much of “group studies” off late. The members of the group studies remain a complete mystery question. I guess its time for Ma to give him a gyan session.

2 days back, I was browsing around to find an informative site on Konkani culture and I came across this site . I must say that it is very interesting as I have been grilled to it for sometime now. I have been reading a lot about amchi culture and traditions. Now, hunting fanatically for a ‘chaangu amchi challo’ (er, good Konkani boy)

Talking about guys, I recently had some hilarious experience while on a matrimonial hunt for a friend. He gave us some details about himself and ‘desired’ qualities he wishes in the girl. Loaded with that, we began our hunt and hit all the ‘shaadi waala’ sites. The response is tremendous and also, I was surprised to say that I found many of my friends there. Looks like it could soon be a socializing engine like yahoo groups and orkut. Well, instead of scraping, you would be sending horoscopes, sounds interesting.

Interestingly, I am hooked to this movie called ‘Roman Holiday’, a fairytale romance classic from the 50’s staring Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn. Else how would you explain me watching it for the 13 odd times within 2 months?

I liked the innocent princess Ann, who takes a day for herself in the ancient ruins of Rome and meets this charming press reporter Joe and both fall in love. The last 15 mins of the movie is truly touching and one sentence always catches me raw,
“I have every faith in it as I have faith in relations between people."

Hepburn looks stunning with her Belgium looks and British accent, fitting perfectly into the role of the rebelling princess. Peck looks just too charming with his smile and deep voice. *more drool*

The was directed by William Wyler who also directed my other favorite movie Ben Hur, staring the charismatic Charlton Heston. *super drool*

For a person who likes to stick to her ultra senseless Govinda movies with scary songs and jerky moves, watching these firangi movies is a big deal. Anyway, I plan to watch a kannada movie today. They beat Govinda anyway with their moronic heros.

After writing this post, I am wondering what title do I bestow on it. And if you have read it till this line, till this last word, till this very comma, you might notice that it does not make much of sense and none of the topics are related. Well, none of my posts do for that matter. So, let us leave it with a stop.

Red rose on a blind date

After the volatile state of insanity displayed by me yesterday, I am extremely delighted to say that I am in a relatively stable state of sobered bliss. Reading my post of yesterday, the three machas (er, you know them-Bloggy, Brainy, and Tanhayee) made a lot of fuss about me and the need of the hour to make efforts to act balanced.

I said, I was a game, why not try? So from today, I shall act balanced. I said “act” which hints all the possibility of me not acting too, equal hypothetical chances.

Today, I am excited. I am going on a blind date. Nah, I am not gonna blindfold myself and poke the people on the road with my walking stick but I will be meeting someone.
Someone, to whom I have been talking to for almost a month now, whom I was supposed to meet for sometime now, whom I was supposed to join for dinner for many days, to whom I have been updating a lot about myself, about whom I have been telling my mom too.

Hey, it has nothing to do with romantic candle lights dinner or a walk along the beach on a full moon night. It’s nothing to do with displaying my ever dying love for food, or my random profile markings in shaadi website. Absolute nothings.

It’s a SHE, my mom’s friend’s- friend’s daughter (note the close knitted relation) who stays here with her husband and her little kiddo baby. She has been eager to meet me even since she got the news that I was running around untamed along the freeways of SD and she as been so generously inviting me over. I was pretty much excited with the fact that I had one more Mlore fanatic person around. On my first instinct I wanted to land my arse at her place at the first given chance. But, I was held up with my usual hula hopping tricks that I never actually made it to her place.

Today, I finally made up my mind, called her up, and finalized on meeting her. And, she has invited me for dinner, amchi food and all. Now, any hot tongued amchi staying miles away from home will drool shamelessly over the thought of well-cooked home food. So, here I am, from the early twilight of morning, seeing stars, chirping birds, planets on their axis and all excited to meet her.

Er, she has asked me to stand at the bus stop with a red rose. Does it sound too weird?

High on desi raat

Bohut din hogaye aur Hero ne kuch likhaich nahi. Hero thoda din underground tha. Apun ke bhai ka happy birthaday ka postich lasht tha. Boletho full senti tha na, tho herone kuch likhaich nahi, khopdi mein 70mm challaich nahi.

Public thoda natak kiya aur Hero ko pucha ki who teen sadele mister log (Tanhayee, Peanut butter brain and Bloggy) kahan margaye. Who teen maamu log apun ke chaddi yaar hain, aur jab woh pulti marte hain, apunka upper chamber ek dhum khaali hota hai. Fultosh blank.

Apun ko thoda tension hua. Waise apun usually tension letaich nahi, sirf detha hai. Who bhi apunke boss ko. Who kya hai ki apun ke boss ko apun ke upper bohut pyaar aaya hai aaj kal, boleto bahut kaam deta hai. Tho apun bhi uska waat lagatha hai.

Ab yeh teen maamu log gahas chabaane gaya hai, nahi,,, sachhi, John bhai ki kassam. Isliye apunke paas likhne ko no matter hai. Tho apun aaj, apna dil khol ke bindas maamugiri karega, aur no topic likhega. Tere ko nahi panda hai to mat pad, office mein sooja, nahi to boss ke naak ke baal gin, nahi to computer ko ek puppy de, par mujhe gaali nahi deneka.

If you are wondering what in the name of the divine devil is wrong with me, nah munna nah, no worry karneka, apun ko maamugiri ka jhatka laga hai. Specially after watching the movie of Munna Bhai, I have bells ringing in my head with all maamu waali talks.

Coming to US made me mend many of my not-so-feminine antics. I shifted from khadi to tees, from pani puris to burgers and from tapori hindi to accent waali English. Aila! Now, after watching this movie yesterday, I have this new surge of taking out a bandana, ripping a few buttons off my shirt, folding my sleeves, untying my shoe laces, walking with nose in the air. Typical Sanju baba mafik, but er, I cant, I Cant, I CANT. And this makes the frustrated hero in me to atleast post a rapchik wajjandhar bematlab waali post. Not to forget the tapori mails those have been flying between the inboxes of my friends.

There was a desi daaru party on Friday night for celebrating “happy birthaday” of 3 friends at Bani’s. Now, when I say “Bani’s” its not some fancy pub or hangout in SD downtown with skimpy babes hanging on poles or some macho hunk sporting his six pack torso; it’s the big time adda for the young desi people and Baniji is our host. She is this very sweet, bubbly girl with loads of energy and enthu to host such regular parties.

Well, on friday night it was full of desi people (abe dhakkan, desi party mein ‘desi’ log nahi honge to aur kaun hoga? gali ka raamlal?) and the pura mahol was desi, this time with a load bunch of new entries. And there were people who were friends of friends and thei friends. Samajhme aaya, itne log the.

There was a mega keg of beer which was surrounded by guys, big time. There was loads of desi food, desi music, desi gaalis and desi hugs. For a few hours, it was back to some normal ‘aabhi-hum-young-hain’ kinda parties back home. There was a full-time intro session to know who was who, who was whose friend, who knew whom and who did what kind of stuff.

The mega attraction was the golgappa, nope, not the ‘pani puri’, it was “daaru puri”. In a big bowl was a purplish mixture of all the drinks hands could lay upon, soft drinks, fruit juices, punch and liquor. Now, the challenge here was, you should drown the whole not-so-appealing thing down your throats. A mandatory welcome snack I guess. The person in charge of this whole idea personally made you gulp it and one person gladly clicked photos of you choking on that unearthly thing.

Anyway, this puri thing sucked big time with the foul taste. Eks.

It was fun to meet new people and do “ki ki”. Nope I am not drunk, but kiki happens to be some kind of weird laughs these guys do. I was equally surprised and unsure for the first time but I guess kiki is an inseparable event at ‘Bani’s’.

You walk in- do the kiki
You do the intro- do the kiki
You smile at someone- do the kiki
You dance to some Govinda number- do the kiki
You are eating- do the kiki
You crack a joke- do the kiki
You are drunk- do the kiki
You see yourself in the mirror- do the kiki

Bohut ‘kiki’fying experience I say!

Sunday ko apunne ‘lage raho munna bhai’ dekha. The theater was brimming full with Indian crowd, all hyper to watch the movie. This desi lot which acts ultra sophisticated otherwise, throws all the courtesies and mannerisms in midair in such instances and there was a hell lot of a pushing and pulling for the seats. At this point I must mention that in US, we don’t have allotted seats as in India. We just walk in and plop down on the seat that catches our fancy. So, there were desis throttling each other to get the peeche waala accha seat.
Such typical desi habits, uh.

After some point, there was some disturbance on the screen and the whole crowd honked, whistled, screamed, hooted and shouted. I guess, even in India we don’t act so untamed and wild. It was fun howling after all these months. Er, for those in eternal bliss of ignorance, Hero likes to whistle to glory upon the entry of her choicest stars. And when I say ‘whistle’ its with an intensity that half a dozen around turn their heads to give her a ‘oh-ladki-hai?’ look but she does not care. Hm, too much talk on desigiri?

The dinner was also very Indian at ‘Tandoor’, a very nice eatery joint which makes the best naans in SD. I also love their mango lassi and masala onion salad.

On a happy note, I tried making mixed veggie soup today which turned out to be okish. Now, I can say my husband is a lucky man, boleto apun uskeliye soup banasaktha hai na aur woh apunkeliye dinner banasaktha hai.

With all the crap tapkufying from this post, I am not sure if anyone reading this is still winking with sanity. Anyway, for all those sleeping,

Subha hogayi maamu!!!

Happy B'day bro

17 years ago my Ma placed a li’l tightly wrapped bundle in my li’l arms and said he was all mine, he was my li’l brother. Today, this li’l darling of mine celebrates his 17th b’day.
And he is not so-li’l anymore, he hovers tall above me.

It’s the first time in 17 years that I am away from all the celebrations, hence this post, wishing my darling- MANY MANY HAPPY RETURNS OF THE DAY!!!
Sept 7, 1989- I was excited coz everyone at home was excited about this mega arrival of this much spoken new baby. Oh, I did wait for him, yes! I had waited for him all those years, pinning my heart for a little thing at home. Every friend of mine had a bro or sis to boss over and play with. I just had my cat –munali which did not take much to my bossing. I wanted a bro, not sis, only a bro.

I was excited about going to the hospital to inspect the new fella and I dressed myself so well with all the make-up that my mom and dad had a fit when they saw me. I looked like a clown. And then, my Ma gave me this thing which remotely resembled the baby monkey in Kadri park with his pink face and I wondered if this handful thing was really my brother. *Me a princess and my bro a frog?

He then opened his little eyes and man; I fell in love with this fella.

I adored my bro, he was the cutest thing for me. Everything about him was li’l, lips, eyes, nose, fingers, legs, and a real cute tummy. He had the softest curls and the chubbiest smile. I loved his soft buttocks the most and his gurgling voice. I would spend hours playing with him, doing stupid faces to see him smile, make sounds, I loved everything about him.

I never needed dolls as I would dress him up in frilly frocks and bows. He never objected for a few years till he realized what I was up to. He had a cycle on which I sat and he pushed me around. Once I dressed him so badly that my Ma took a week to get rid of all the kajal and lipstick. I loved to carry him around, give him piggy rides and just cuddle him.

It was a nice growing with my bro, especially with the huge age difference. I got to see myself in him time and over again. We went to the same school, same teachers taught us, we went to the same tuitions, we share the same interests, and we have trekked together. And every time it was great to hear people tell me how smart my bro is.

Yes, he is smart and bright and now, very good looking. Heard he is quite a hit with the girls and I am sure he will grow to be quite a hunk. The amount of girls in his friends list and the calls he gets, gets me a bit concerned. Uh, gets even my Ma concerned. I guess, I need to keep a track on his activities.

Its 8 months and all have seen of him is in photos and webcam. I miss seeing him grow, growing tall and taking strides towards life. I miss cuddling him around and him beating me and chasing me and he hates me kissing him. And I love to do just that.

Every morning when I walk into my office and switch my comp, a loving photograph of my bro and me in a hug greets me. I never knew I would ever miss someone ever so much. I never knew that –that li’l thing- could ever change my life so much.

Over the years, we have bonded as friends. Maybe the age difference did have its toll, but we always shared many things together. He always made me laugh when I was in my low, always had a hug for me, scared the shit out of me, laughed with me, teased me and made me spend my money. (It’s very hard to make me spend MY money-I trust my dads ATM)

Now, when I hear people tell me about him, I feel proud as a big sis, I know I did a good job (time for some back patting) in guiding him. I know that he will grow to be one wonderful person and I know we will be there for each other all our lives.

Hey annubabes,
I donno if you ever read this or not, but I just want you to know that you are the best gift I ever got and I love you a lot. I wish you a wonderful b’day filled with loads of success and a year filled with joys and many reasons to celebrate.
*Your gift will be upon my return*

Note: I tried to call my bro at 12am to wish him and his cell was engaged for almost an hour before I could finally get through him. Hm, looks like he is growing real fast!

I have no clue if this post makes sense, I am all senti today coz I missed babas b’day

To my teachers with love

“Guru brahma guru vishnu guru devo maheshwaraha
Guru sakshaat parabrahma tasmahi shri guruven namaha”

As a student in Canara, we always started our day with this prayer along with other prayers. We were taught that teacher was a reflection of god who imparted his knowledge to us. He shaped our future and guided us to have a better life. He held our hand and moved us from darkness to light. Much was taught in our moral science classes too.

I remember each teacher of mine from my kindergarten to university, maybe the face is not that clear but do still remember their names and the subjects they taught. I was not very fond of couple of them, gave many a hard time, was not-so-ideal-student, but I was absolutely crazy about other few. Many of my teachers are still in touch and I make it a point to wish them every year.

This year, I thought I could write about my 3 darling teachers who made a difference to my life, to whom I owe a greater part of my success, to whom I shall always be indebt, to whom I shall always bow my head with love.


Vidwan Belur Narayan Tantri

He taught us Sanskrit in school and I was kinda scared of him. He was one of the strictest sirs in the campus and his class meant no fooling around (ah! Now you know why I was scared of him). He always wore a neatly pressed white shirt-full sleeves and a white panche and neatly oiled, combed hair.

I was never good at Sanskrit or understood half the subject matter or bothered to learn anything from the books or did well in the exams. I was in his class because he spoke about values, morals, religion and traditions and I loved listening to his elaborate explanations. His class was always rich with information on our heritage and rituals and I always clinged to every word he spoke.

He knew my aversion to the language and my reluctance to learn the subject. This Sir, of whom I was scared for all those years, whom I thought, disliked me for scoring less marks, called me one fine day before my 10th final exams and made a detailed plan to coach me. I was surprised beyond words and scared beyond death. For 1 month, under his strict supervision I really learnt Sanskrit for the first time, grammer, linga, sandhi and stuff. Our sessions were filled with interesting discussions, Indian history, hindu values and I was in love with this subject.

He spent time off this schedule to help me learn, knowing the reputation I had for being eh, not so easy student. I passed my board exams with a whooping 120/125, something I would not have dreamt in the luckiest of my dreams and Sir was the happiest. I remember bouncing to him with joy when the result was up and he gave me his best smile.

I owe much of my spiritual knowledge and religious beliefs to him. He unconsciously nurtured the traditional values in me, made me practice a few disciplines in life, respect my religion and be a better person. Everyday when I say my prayers to god, I remember him, because today I am able to understand the essence of these stotras and tell the, with all my heart.

“Dhanyawaada Shriman”


Prof.I.V.Rao

His students will always say that he is the best Sir under the sun but I could say that he himself is the sun to the students in the dark. A look at him and your heart fills with respect and love, such is his presence. His smiling face and graceful strides makes anyone aware of the powerful aura around him.

Sir teaches physics and I used to go to him for my physics tuitions for 2 years during my pre-university. For me, he taught me much more than just subject. He instilled in me the self-confidence when I needed it the most and stood by me when I had lost hope in myself. Such was his impact in my life.

He guided me even after my college, to select an area of study which was not much experimented in those days. I would always go to him with any doubts I had and just a talk with him made me feel geared up. We used to have lovely discussions on many topics, science, education, life and life after death, religion, many things. With Sir, I could talk for hours and yet have loads to tell him.

Even after 7 years, I rant nonchalantly about everything to sir and he always listens with a smile on his face. The animated me will tell stories about studies and work and Sir with laugh with me, a laugh about which I am dead crazy. For his 60th birthday, I was asked to write an article on him for a book to be published. I remember to have sat for hours with tears and not write a word. Those tears were of gratitude for this Sir who blessed my life with his trust.

As I called Sir today morning to wish him, he immediately recognized my voice. I was over joyed at his immediate response when I wished him. In spite of loosing his sight, Sir remembers each of his students and I was honored. I could never ask for a better blessing.

"I love you sir"


Sudha Baliga

I could say I was her first student. 8 years back she did not teach, I literally forced her upon the recommendation of some family friend to coach me for maths. Now, she runs a full-time tuition class filled with really bright students. ( I guess I was the dumbest of her lot)

She coached me for maths during my pre-university. Now, when I say maths, a chill runs down my spine and I get convulsions. So, it is understood that it was a Herculean task to get my count the numbers. And she did it with patience and love which made me forget the hatred I had for the subject and study it with tolerance.

She made me understand the subject so much so that we started from the 5th grade books, tables and basic maths. Everyday, she would patiently teach me many things over and over again and I would dutifully forget them the next day. I managed to study maths because I dint wanna disappoint her and did well in the exams for my standards. It was then I pledge never to touch another integration and calculus all my life, me or my kids.
(well, I ended up studying it for the next few years, HR and MBA).

Maths tuitions always came with chocolates and food and lunch and cats. Every year for my b’day I get whole lot of Temptations and a pen. This year she called me up to wish me and my bro said that she distributed sweets in the class. I was moved beyond words.

She trusted me when I was lost and guided me with love. More than maths, she taught me that plain and simple trust and a word of encouragement can make wonders to our lives. And she did to mine.

"Thank you ma’am"


Years have passed but I still remember my teachers with gratitude. A word of encouragement, a comforting hand, a smiling face and a trusting heart is all that made me what I am today. For me, I could not be more blessed than have their loved presence in my life.

They say that god created gurus to remind us of him. I shall never be able to repay any of my teachers who sailed me over these years. I may not be able to meet many of them ever again or thank them personally. But I shall bow my head with deep respect to every teacher in my life for their blessings.


Happy Teacher’s Day!!!