“Unbreakable imported” Chinaware or Jalandar ki lassi tumbler
Friday workday was ethnic day at office. I reached office a little early than usual…me in a kurtha, jeans and chunri. Strike 9 am and the flow started. Men and women marched in their Patanis, Kanjeevarams, Mundu veshti, Sherwanis, Mysore Turbans…so on and so forth. I am not exaggerating when I say that each one looked as gorgeous as the word could mean and sound. One colleague in his Kodugu gown and head gear caused enough excitement among ladies for their hearts to complain of being over-worked in blood pumping. Not to mention that lady clothed in a Gujarati style saree…so very beautiful. I have always endorsed whenever elders at home discussed the importance of being dressed in our ethnic attires when the occasion arises. I strongly feel that the ethnic attires of Indian women are a celebration of feminine beauty! Anyone who wears those looks so gorgeous. Its just not about the looks, that is just a by-product. Its about colour, about the care and thought with which they have been designed, its about adding beauty and grandeur - grandeur so well blended with simplicity, without having to expose our skin to this atmosphere, this atmosphere whose Ozone is considerably depleted!
We have masses swarming shopping malls hunting for techni-colour tops and patched jeans. Hello! Please throw a glance at that beautiful Sherwani hanging on that stand with such simple majesty!
I was at a shopping mall yesterday looking for a Chinaware dinner set for a relative. The kind shopkeeper dug out half a dozen varieties, he even slammed one against other to show me how unbreakable they were. He even showed me his trump card – chinaware imported from US of A ! Whenever did Uncle Sam become such an excellent potter!!
I was very wary of it all, yet decided to go for it. As I gingerly felt my pocket for the wallet, I heard a wise lady quip rather emotionally in Punjabi, “ You call this unbreakable? I tell you, they can never match the endurance and grandeur of the Lassi tumblers of Jalandar!!..Ahh” The shopkeeper tried hard to hide is endorsing nod, lest he be viewed of breaching integrity to his business.
That very statement induced a chain of thoughts in me – I of course did not buy the dinner set. Instead I walked in to a cyber café to pen those flowing thoughts.
Sunday, October 30, 2005
Friday, October 21, 2005
Chennai Marathon for a cause
The Marathon at Chennai will be held on the 5th of Feb 2006. Check in to http://www.chennaimarathon.org/rules_regu01.html to know about it all.
See you all there.
The Marathon at Chennai will be held on the 5th of Feb 2006. Check in to http://www.chennaimarathon.org/rules_regu01.html to know about it all.
See you all there.
Friday, September 30, 2005
Monday, September 26, 2005
In a vessel upstream
As I walk hurriedly down the busy pavement I accidently overhear a cellphone user, "what the f@#@!! mein(man), I thought you said 5 30...ah.......yup! yup!...chiao meinnn....lets catch up the coming weekend...you rock till then ah! YO!
I walk past him and then it hits me...arre he is our old chum Parandaman!! We are both glad, we give our typical swinging hi-fis(oh, we have not forgotten them..great!).
"Hey da Parandaman, how are you doing now-a-days"?
"Paddy mein , Paddy is the name"
Errrr...gulp. We gulp a quick drink at a coffee joint, exchange contact details and get up to leave. He doesn't shake my hand, instead, puts a queer signal, the forefinger and little finger outstretched and the other fingers folded in. "Yo mein, nice meeting you, keep in touch ah"
Now, Paddy aka Parandaman is the personification of fashion, attitude, hep-and-happening.
We have our hair gelled up to look in all sorts of ways, our jeans is so worn, that it fights hard to defy gravity and stay up there(I once saw a gentleman pulling it up when he thought no one saw him. Uncomfortable that he looked in that attire, nevertheless he had to keep pace with his fashion-breathing comrades!), you got to show you are cool by saying kewl, you will be grunted at if you said ok...its ookkiiee!
This is fashion, this is attitude, this is help and happening.
We live like this because 8 out of the 10 people in our office shuttle bus live this way, or talk about living this way. The fear of being left out of the pack, or looked down upon due to not keeping up with trends, is as intense and perennial as the fear of death. We do all that’s possible to overcome it.
No matter how scenic the downstream route is, how enjoyable and easy the rowing is, we prefer to row upstream because 25 out of the 30 rowers decided to go that way. Perhaps our emphasis of staying in the herd is stronger than the joy of true beauty and comfort.
Now a few observations:
1. Walking down the ramp with your mom makes you look macho.
2. Greeting your Significant Other in your traditional, rich ethnic attire will give him /her immediate goose bumps and sleepless nights of pleasant dreams.
3. Fashion, style and attitude are in the heart of the wearer and not in eyes of the audience.
What do you feel?
As I walk hurriedly down the busy pavement I accidently overhear a cellphone user, "what the f@#@!! mein(man), I thought you said 5 30...ah.......yup! yup!...chiao meinnn....lets catch up the coming weekend...you rock till then ah! YO!
I walk past him and then it hits me...arre he is our old chum Parandaman!! We are both glad, we give our typical swinging hi-fis(oh, we have not forgotten them..great!).
"Hey da Parandaman, how are you doing now-a-days"?
"Paddy mein , Paddy is the name"
Errrr...gulp. We gulp a quick drink at a coffee joint, exchange contact details and get up to leave. He doesn't shake my hand, instead, puts a queer signal, the forefinger and little finger outstretched and the other fingers folded in. "Yo mein, nice meeting you, keep in touch ah"
Now, Paddy aka Parandaman is the personification of fashion, attitude, hep-and-happening.
We have our hair gelled up to look in all sorts of ways, our jeans is so worn, that it fights hard to defy gravity and stay up there(I once saw a gentleman pulling it up when he thought no one saw him. Uncomfortable that he looked in that attire, nevertheless he had to keep pace with his fashion-breathing comrades!), you got to show you are cool by saying kewl, you will be grunted at if you said ok...its ookkiiee!
This is fashion, this is attitude, this is help and happening.
We live like this because 8 out of the 10 people in our office shuttle bus live this way, or talk about living this way. The fear of being left out of the pack, or looked down upon due to not keeping up with trends, is as intense and perennial as the fear of death. We do all that’s possible to overcome it.
No matter how scenic the downstream route is, how enjoyable and easy the rowing is, we prefer to row upstream because 25 out of the 30 rowers decided to go that way. Perhaps our emphasis of staying in the herd is stronger than the joy of true beauty and comfort.
Now a few observations:
1. Walking down the ramp with your mom makes you look macho.
2. Greeting your Significant Other in your traditional, rich ethnic attire will give him /her immediate goose bumps and sleepless nights of pleasant dreams.
3. Fashion, style and attitude are in the heart of the wearer and not in eyes of the audience.
What do you feel?
Friday, September 16, 2005
Pain!...its thought-provoked??
For the last 3 days I have been brooding about problems that have been plaguing my health, rather insistently. Besides that sickly weak feeling and the lose of appetite, its the disappointment of losing the rythm of running 6 kms everyday, which I took weeks to establish. Now I pant and heave even when I climb a flight of stairs!! Ahh, depressing.
But hey..wait a minute, its not been 3 full days of disappointment and resentment. These bouts of problems have been well punctuated by long sleep innings. They have been a welcome respite from the brooding.
So, why does sleep put me out of this despair? I did exsist in sleep, still none of these pinpricks touched me. A little retrospection shows that the only thing different in sleep is the non-exsistance of thought, thought that is attributable to the intellect and ego.
So is the feeling of pain and despair, a mere game of perception? A game where the ego is the judge and intellect, perception and expectations the jury?? Does pain exsist, and if it does should it bother us and our routine to any extent at all? Do we really have to stand in the court of ego awaiting a judgement on whether a particular event should give us happiness or sorrow?
Extrapolating, are all positive and negetive emotions at the hands of our discretion? and if so, is it possible to always choose the former?
Your views pls.
The thoughts that flowed into this piece were triggered by an article in the blog - bhartie.
For the last 3 days I have been brooding about problems that have been plaguing my health, rather insistently. Besides that sickly weak feeling and the lose of appetite, its the disappointment of losing the rythm of running 6 kms everyday, which I took weeks to establish. Now I pant and heave even when I climb a flight of stairs!! Ahh, depressing.
But hey..wait a minute, its not been 3 full days of disappointment and resentment. These bouts of problems have been well punctuated by long sleep innings. They have been a welcome respite from the brooding.
So, why does sleep put me out of this despair? I did exsist in sleep, still none of these pinpricks touched me. A little retrospection shows that the only thing different in sleep is the non-exsistance of thought, thought that is attributable to the intellect and ego.
So is the feeling of pain and despair, a mere game of perception? A game where the ego is the judge and intellect, perception and expectations the jury?? Does pain exsist, and if it does should it bother us and our routine to any extent at all? Do we really have to stand in the court of ego awaiting a judgement on whether a particular event should give us happiness or sorrow?
Extrapolating, are all positive and negetive emotions at the hands of our discretion? and if so, is it possible to always choose the former?
Your views pls.
The thoughts that flowed into this piece were triggered by an article in the blog - bhartie.
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