Paro – Thimphu, Day 1

26 July

6:15 pm BTT, Thimphu

I was chilling at my room at hotel Phuntsho Pelri after the day’s outing. I had my comics and books stacked on the coffee table and my earphones sprawled on the bed. I wondered what Kevin and Rufus were doing at home and picked up my phone.

“Kevin!”

“Hey! How is Bhutan treating you?”

“Bhutan has been awesome so far! How is the house without me? You miss me, don’t you? And Rufus? I miss you both. The room is nice, but the sandwich wasn’t…oh and I tried archery! Then-“

“Slow down, slow down,” he laughed, cutting into my excited rant. “Now take a deep breath and tell me how your day was.”

*****

26 July

7:30 am BTT, Paro

The Landing announcement already? I had just been on a running marathon since the wee hours this morning and had only sunk in my seat and was hoping for a nice long nap. Contrary to what was printed on my ticket, Kolkata to Paro took only about 40 minutes. I was there already!

The air was cool, the skies were blue…yeah, much like that Westlife song. With a smile, sleepy me walked into the airport. There were two queues for immigration here. One for foreign nationals and the other for SAARC countries. I happily walked to the SAARC queue.

Bhutan is one of those countries where Indians get Visa on arrival. Also, their currency Ngultrum is pegged to the Indian rupee. That means 1 Indian rupee equals 1 Bhutan Ngultrum always. Indian currency is accepted at almost all places (except for those places that already have had the bad experience of getting counterfeit 500 and 1000 rupee notes).

Immigration was done in a Jiffy, local sim card bought and after letting Kevin know that I made it successfully thus far, and I stepped out into the Paro morning. I spotted a smiling face holding a placard with my name. My guide for the trip, Chencho. He was wearing a Gho, like all the natives there. I remembered an image from TinTin in Tibet, where TinTin was sporting a similar attire. It’s like a knee length kimono of sorts, tied at the wait with a traditional belt.

“Ms. Reshma? Welcome to Bhutan!” Chencho welcomed me with a firm hand shake.

“Thank you!”

He led me to our car and introduced me to the driver. Sange. I was pleased to see this happy faced woman, also in the traditional Bhutan attire - the Kira skirt and Tega jacket. She was chewing on betel leaves and opened the door for me. The car smelt of fresh lemon grass.

We were off to my hotel in Thimphu, the capital of Bhutan. We stopped by a Dzong (That means a fortress) on the way, for a quick Photo break.  Before Bhutan was united by its first king Ugyen Wangchuck in 1907, it was 20 separate provinces, and each of them had at least one Dzong.

It stood of with its predominant white and red against the backdrop of the green mountains and the river that we followed from the airport. Prayer flags stretched from its walls to the river banks and they fluttered with the gentle wind. They say the wind can read the prayers and in Bhutan, you’ll see the prayer flags outdoors, almost everywhere. The 5 different colours on the flags represent each of the elements: Green for Wood, Blue for water, white for air, red for fire and yellow for earth.

“Indian Oil?” I exclaimed as I saw the familiar logo at a Petrol pump as we approached Thimphu.

“Yes. We import petrol from India. Also, it was after Nehru’s visit to Bhutan, that we started developing roads in Bhutan, with India’s help. We have a very good relationship with your country.” Chencho replied.

“Interesting”, I smiled.

“Which place in Thimphu would you like to visit today?”

“Hmmm…what would you recommend? I am a little tired from travelling”

“You had little sleep?”

“I had no sleep! I was out since 11ish last night…”

“Oh! Okay. We’ll go only to the Simply Bhutan Museum this afternoon. Make up for all the sleep you lost and tomorrow we’ll have lots of places to see”

“Sure” I agreed.

I checked into Hotel Phuntsho Pelri. Similar to almost all other buildings here, the hotel had the traditional Bhutanese architecture. The part near the roof reminded me of jenga blocks. Food, rest and 2 comics later, Chencho and Sange reached at the exact time as promised and we were off to the Simply Bhutan museum.

“Reshma,” called Chencho as we stepped out of our car, “This is a new museum. It started operating only from 2010. It was constructed as advised by our queen mother and all the profits from this museum is used to rehabilitate the youth.”

At the entrance there was this pretty young girl who introduced herself as the museum guide. She gave me a brief introduction to Bhutan again, while Chencho quizzed playfully.

“Before we proceed in, you need to have our welcome drink,” she said and took out a wooden wine jar.

“This is made from wheat” She poured it out in a small wooden bowl for me.

“It is strong!”

“It is similar to the Japanese Sake,” she explained.

When I handed my little bowl back, she poured me another one, saying a second helping is customary, else it indicates the guest isn’t pleased with the hospitality. Happy me.

This place had a lot of traditional Bhutanese artifacts, wall paintings, a live kitchen… Some of them reminded me of the old kitchen back at my home when we had the ural, ulakka, ammi kallu etc.

I could write pages about how she explained how the wine was brewed, how the festivals in the paintings were actually celebrated, how Chencho quizzed her while she did her job, I tried on a Kira and Tego to get my picture clicked in them…But let’s move on to Butter tea.

Now this is a salty, buttery tea, called Po Cha, often paired with puffed rice. My guide led me to the open restaurantish space, let me pick a table and served me a hot Po cha. I did tell her I’m not a tea person or a butter person but she insisted I try a sip anyways. It definitely wasn’t my cup of tea, but I think all tea lovers should give it a shot.

My guide called some of the other staff at the museum and they all danced to Bhutanese music. Chencho joined in and tried to get me dance too!

At the next stall, there were intricate wood carvings in Bhutanese designs. I saw a person working away with his feet.

“Have you heard of Pema before?” my guide asked

“No”

“As you can see, Pema is differently abled. He had the chance to meet our queen mother during one of the events and she wanted to help this young boy. He was sent to the School of Art, taught to carve and paint and was given this stall in this museum. This is how he earns his livelihood.”

Pema smiled.

I picked up a little round wood carved wall hanging to take back home. Before he packed it for me, he signed it with his feet and put his seal on it too. I have seen how differently abled people do similar things on social media, but seeing it up close, in front of your eyes is a different feeling altogether.

 The next few stalls had traditional Bhutanese textiles and artsy things for sale. The traditional weaving machinery were kept for display as well.

The last stop before leaving the premises was the archery spot. Archery is Bhutan’s national sport. Here, they had the traditional bow and modern arrows. A rectangular wooden target was placed a few yards away.

“Give it a shot,” my guide said as she gave me the bow and arrow.

I took them, aimed and knocked like I had seen Merida do in Brave, and fired.

The arrow was nowhere close to the target.

“You can try again!” she chirped, getting me another arrow. She showed me where to place my thumb and how to position my arms and…Whoosh! No. No luck again.

Chencho joined us now and he took a turn.

“Hey, mine was better!” I laughed as his arrow didn’t hit the mark.

“Watch me now”, he said as he struck a bull’s eye.

“Oh”

“I practice during my spare time”, he said with a smile.

“I don’t think this is my sport,” I said handing the bow over to the museum guide. While she reluctantly took it back, she said, “It’s good luck to hit before you leave”

“Try once more,” encouraged Chencho.

“Okay, last shot,” I said taking the bow and an arrow.

It was no bull’s eye, but I did hit the target board. I could now leave the museum happily.

*****

26 July

6:35 pm BTT, Thimphu

“You sure had an interesting day,” said Kevin when I gave him a pause to speak, finally.

“Yes!”

“Good. Try something new for dinner.”

“I will! I’m going to read for a bit until dinner. I’ll tell you how it was.”

“Okay, then. Bye. Rufus says bye too”

I glanced at my stack of comics wondering which one I should pick up.

 My ringtone interrupted me. It was Appa.

“Hello Appa!”

“Hello Reshma…eh? You’re going on a trip sometime?

“Huh? Appa I’m already in Bhutan like I…”

“Oh…It’s Kevin’s gift? Mol…looks like Reshma might leave on a short trip…it’s Kevin’s gift”

Okay. I see what he’s doing now. He hadn’t told Amma yet, and now he’s trying to make it sound like I miiight go on a trip sometime in the near future, just because the husband wanted to give me that experience as a gift. Well played!

That thought strand had not even completed in my head when I heard:

“Rajetta! What did you just say? Where is she? (Takes his phone) RESHMA???”

“Yes, Amma?”

“Where are you going?”

“Um…I…it’s…”

“You cannot go! Go anywhere you want to with Kevin, but you can’t go alone!”

I kept quiet. She hung up.

I called Kevin.

“So Amma just called me!”

“And? Has your dad told her yet?”

“I don’t think so, he was trying to do this trick call thingy…”

“Hey, give me a minute, I’ll call you back”

6:10 pm IST, Bangalore

Our Balcony. Kevin chilling with a can of beer and Rufus at his feet.

"Hey, give me a minute, I'll call you back", he said, as he took the incoming call on his phone.

“Uh…Hello?”

“HELLO? Where is Reshma?” That’s my mom.

“She…She’s out”

“Out? Out where?”

“Uh…Bhutan?”

“Bhutan?? When is she coming back?”

“Monday”

“Monday?? When are you going?”

“I’m not…it’s her trip”

“But. It’s her birthday in two days, you are going, right?”

“No…”

“Surprise? Is it a surprise?”

“No…”

“Oh! (Aside) Rajetta! How long were you in on this???”

6:50 pm, BTT

I had settled with a Jughead comic when Kevin called me again.

“Your mom had called me…”

“What? She called you? I was trying to tell you that Appa hadn’t told her yet and that we were trying to do this...”

“She knows now. I think you should call her...”

He told me the content of their short call.

“Guess I should call her, then,” I resigned.

“Good Luck!” he smirked as he hung up.

What was exchanged in our call can be summarized like so: She accused me of shortening her expected lifespan by 5 years, and I lost my appetite for dinner.

But then, it was relieving to know that she finally knew and that nothing’s going to change the fact that I was still in Bhutan. I went back to my books for the night and made up for all that lost sleep.

The (First) Solo Trip – Prologue

25^th July, 2017

7:30 pm

"Hello, Appa! Are you busy?"

"No, tell me"

"I'm going somewhere tomorrow..."

"Again...um...did you just say 'I'?? No Kevin?"

"Nope. Just me. Solo trip to Bhutan! You tell Amma, okay? Bye!" 

There. It was done. Whenever I go/do something I'm sure my mother wouldn't approve of, I'd take the easy way out and let Appa know instead. Telling her becomes his problem. He would get the initial heat and I would get a slightly mellowed down version a little later.

This time I was off to Bhutan for my first ever solo trip. Yes, I'm married and 30 is just two more trips round the Sun, but I don't think that changes a thing for Amma.

Kevin is cool and he helped me with all the travel arrangements. "Do it, please and get it out of your system," he encouraged. His mom was amazing too. Though she sounded a little apprehensive about me going all alone, she wished me a safe journey.

26^th July, 2017

1:30 am

Kevin saw me off at the Bangalore Airport with a tight hug. I had to fly to Kolkata first, and then to Paro at 6:30 am. Since I have this amazing history with phones that I kept losing, I was armed with two this time, only to wake Kevin up at 5:40 am for this:

“Kevin!”

“Hey…are you all set to board your flight to Paro?”

“No!!! The flight was delayed, the Paro flight is in 50 minutes and I still haven’t got my check in bag….What do I do?”

I was the first person to reach belt 1 to collect my bag. Only no bags were on it yet. I kept looking from my watch to my phone to the belt frantically, hoping it would start moving and that I’d spot my red bag.

This was my first time at the Kolkata airport. I had to get my bag, figure out the way to the International Terminal, collect my boarding pass, go through the Immigration Counter, get my cabin bag scanned, go through security check and get in the flight, all in 50…no, it’s 40 minutes now.

When I finally saw my bag, I could literally hear the Hallelujah chorus in my mind. How I reached the international terminal dragging it along, only my feet know.

I saw “PARO” on a counter and shoved my e-ticket to the person there.

“Ma’am, this is not your airline, yours is Drukair. Please check for the right counter from the display board,” he said pointing. Of course. I should go to the Drukair counter.

At the right counter, the Drukair official was mildly scolding two other girls from the same Kolkata flight I had been in, for reaching late at the counter. I saved them, because all his words were for me now.

6:10 am

“How can you plan to reach so late? What if we had closed the counter? Do you know what the time is?” he went on and on, like a concerned uncle.

I stood there meekly, without a word and grabbed my boarding pass as soon as he printed it out.

“Go straight to the Immigration counter and get to gate 11 quickly!” he said, as I bolted.

“Kevin, I’m in the queue to the Immigration counter, I think I might get in!” I had to let him know.

“Good! Now let me know once you land in Paro.”

I wondered if I had a window seat by any chance and was reaching for my boarding pass, when I realized I didn’t have it in my hand.

“Kevin, I’ll call you back, Bye!” I said, as I hung up quickly, hunting through my bag and papers I held.

I had it in my hand, I did not have enough time to put it in the bag. So it should be…As I looked towards the Drukair Counter, I could see something on the floor, and I ran out from the queue towards it.

“What is it, Ma’am?” asked the official who was chiding us for reaching late. I couldn’t look at his face as I picked up the boarding pass from the floor and ran back to the Immigration queue, but I sure could hear him shouting.

This time there were 10 people ahead of me.

6:15 am

“Drukair announces the departure of its flight KB500 to Paro. All passengers are requested to proceed towards Gate 11, I repeat gate 11 immediately, thank you.”

“Sir, that’s my flight, please can I go ahead?” I asked the person allocating counters for people at the queue.

“No, no, it’s okay. There is time.”

I inched along.

6:20 am

“This is a paging announcement for Ms Reshma Raju Emmatty travelling to Paro on Drukair. Please board the aircraft from Gate 11, thank you!”

“Sir! Sir!” I called waving my hands up in the air this time.

“That announcement was for me! I need to go now!”

Somehow that worked. He let me pass. Bag scanned, security check done, I ran past it all to Gate 11. And guess who is at the counter? The same person who has been scolding me all morning.

“You’ve been running all morning, Ma’am, now please just walk through slowly. Take a break” he smiled

At 6:31 am, I was the last person to board KB 500 to Bhutan. But I did board that flight. With that happy thought, I sinked into my seat, hoping to wake up happy at Paro.

Aswan

June 22

Cairo > Aswan

If there's one thing I didn't like about this trip, it's the wake up time. Well, can't blame ém coz they were doing their best to give us all the places to see, so no complaints.

We drove from Le Meridian to the Cairo Airport. I took one last look at the Pyramids and smiled to myself. Today we were off to the city called Aswan. It was a short domestic flight and as always, Thomas Cook agents were ready and this time it was Emad who met us at the Aswan Airport.

We were taken straight to our cruise ship. And suddenly everything was small. Kinda like how Alice felt when she had the cake and grew big. The room, the loo, everything. But of course everything was great, only small.

We left our luggage in our cabin and were on our way to the high dam over Lake Nasser. It is the largest artificial lake in the world. Our guide there was Mortez. Emad had left after dropping us at the cruise and introducing us to Mortez. Mortez could read the cartouge I had around my neck. That felt good.

After the dam, we went to the Philae temple. It was on an island, so we went by boat. I wonder how it would have been if my mom was there, she completely hates the idea of boats.

It was lovely to see the temple from the boat as it looked larger as we approached. This temple was dedicated to Isis. The walls were full of hieroglyphs. It was partly destroyed by ancient Christians calling it a pagan place of worship.

Mortez told us how the Christians had hid here during the Roman attack, how the side were the Nubians used were less destroyed, about Hathor's smiling 7 faces, how the temple was rebuilt two times and moved to the current location...

We went back to the cruise. It was still at the dock, so it was like the floating restaurant in Cairo, only, this time we were in the basement so through the circular windows I could see water above my head. It was a buffet, okay-okay types.

We could rest for the rest of the day. But the mission for the day was to find fresh dates to take home for Amma. Of everything we had in the buffet, nothing was as good as the dates. I've had the fresh dates that we get back in India, but these were different, really juicy and great. But sadly, the crew didn't understand the English word dates so we took one from the buffet table and asked them were we could find dates like these.

They gave an attended Mahmood to accompany me and Appa and we were off to the Aswan market near by. Here too, people magically recognized us as Indians. I seriously don't know how. There were a lot of spices in the stores, a lot of sheesha kept out of different shapes and sizes and you could see small groups of people having a little conversation while slowly exhaling the sweet smoke.

One thing in my to-do list in the cruise ship was to have champagne. That couldn't be done. Dinner was buffet again in the same basement restaurant and after that we went to the upper deck to see the night lights and click some pics.

Sleep came really quick because we had woken up early that day and also because we had to the next day as well.

Cairo, Day 2

June 20

Writing this after a very long gap. I had made it a point to jot down things things I saw and did each day during that week I had in Egypt and to put it all here I guess I grew too lazy. Anyways, here goes.

Second day in Cairo. Enid Blyton breakfast repeat :P.

The Cairo museum is where we spent most our day. That place has thousands of years of history spread across its halls. According to Sam, we could distinguish the artifacts of Egypt by their look- if the statues had a dignified look about them, it belonged to the ancient period. The ones from the middle ages were grim and dark. The modern ones were fair in nature.

There were sarcophaguses of stone and alabaster at every turn and corner. Sam told us a lot that day. About Ka, Ba, Hathor, Horus, Isis and Osiris, false doors, embalming, Hatshepsut, Tutmosis, Ramesis...I could travel back in time through his stories and the things I saw there. Honestly, you'll need more than a day to walk leisurely through here and see all the wonders exhibited.

My younger brother can act like a spoilt brat at times. But in ancient Egypt there was a 19-year-old who could cover himself with gold. Yeah, I'm talking about King Tut alright. There was a whole section dedicated to his belongings. On his body, they found 143 gold objects wrapped in the linen coverings. The gold mask alone weighed 11 kg! His solid gold coffin was placed within 3 other coffins (like those Russian dolls), which in turn was inside 4 concentric rooms. His ornaments weer adorned with carnelian, lapiz lazuli and turquoise.

Then there was an ancient Egyptian ornament section. I'm somebody who hates wearing gold just because of the shiny yellow colour and the boring patterns I've seen. But looks like I could be game for the ancient Egyptian kind. There were really pretty, fashionable ones that I absolutely loved. The earrings were too thick, the holes in your ears have to be really wide to put the ones here on.

Another thing I remember from here is a birthing stool. The ancient Egyptians believed the crouching position was the most healthy one for birthing and had special stools with a hole in the middle for this purpose. Other things that caught my attention were a queen's bed, her metal pillow and her slimy internal organs still preserved. A duplicate of the Rosetta stone.Ancient writings, magic spells, charms....

Then there was the mummy room where we saw 12 mummies resting since about a 1000 years. We could still see the hair and nails.

I seriously cannot sum up everything I saw in there. You have to be there to get how it feels. History all around you, all about you.

The day's lunch included Kobeba and beef kofta.

Next we went to St Mary's church. It was a hanging church, placed above wooden beams on an ancient building. Legend has it that Mary had appeared in this church several times. They also say that  Mary and Joseph hid here while travelling to Bethlehem while King Herod was hunting for baby Jesus.

This church had a lot of interesting symbology.The fish shaped tile, the 13 pillared pulpit...

We also went to a market that day. Full of hustle and bustle, people saying Namaste identifying us as Indians, calling out Amitabh, Shahrukh, Amir. It really is a wonder how they knew we were Indians. Yes we are brown skinned, dark hair, dark eyes, but there are a whole lot of other citizens who look like us, right? Pakistanis, Sri Lankans...

Anyways, we said bye to Sam that day. Had an early sleep too, coz the next day was supposed to start at 3:00 am.

Cairo, Day 1

June 19^th

Alexandria > Cairo

Fresh fruit and fruit juice, grilled tomatoes, cheese, sausages, bacon, French toast, honey, waffles, pancakes, scones, Danish, yoghurt.. Remember the spread Julian, Dick, George and Anne used to have? Breakfast in Radisson Blue reminded me of them. One of the best breakfasts I’ve ever had! I’ve not mentioned the complete list here, coz there were tables and tables of things and I could sample only so much, but you get the idea, right? Anyways, this post isn’t about food, so let’s move on.

After breakfast we checked out of Radisson Blue and we were off to Cairo. 3 hrs road trip. Did I mention that Thareeq stopped a truck loaded with fresh tomatoes so that he could get some for us the day before? Well, he had. It was so nice of him and we enjoyed having it. But we weren’t too keen on having tomatoes after breakfast, but Thareeq stopped a Tomato van and a Grapes van on the way so that we could taste them.

Somewhere in the middle of the journey we stopped at a small motel kind of a place. There was a souvenir shop where everybody went to. Thareeq went straight to a tabled and settled down with a hookah. You don’t see much of alcohol out in the open in this country, but smoke, yes, you see it everywhere.  Of course I couldn’t resist when he offered me, so I had to try :P (It was amazing!)

When we reached Cairo, Sameer a.k.a Sam, our guide for Cairo joined us and he quizzed us a bit about Egypt. He wore a locket with some hieroglyphs that caught my eye. He explained that it was a Cartouche. Pharoes got their name written in oval brackets to protect them, as a symbol of power etc. And if any common man dared to wear one, it was “off with his head!” in those days. I made up my mind to get one for myself.

He first took us to a Papyrus shop. Guess everybody knows that papyrus was the first form of paper ever, made from the papyrus reed. We saw how it was being made. And do you know why the papyrus reed was used? The cross section of the reed’s stem has triangles (Triangles>face of the pyramid>ray of the sun)! There were a lot of replicas of ancient Egyptian paintings here for sale. The judgement day, Tutankamun, Nefertiti, the Egyptian calendar, Horus, Cleopatra, Nut, Isis and Osiris...they even had Christian imagery on Papyrus. These people do know their tourism industry :P

After that was Pyramids. What I reaaally longed to see. Sam kept saying things about it as we neared it, but I was too busy gazing at them to hear much of what he was saying. He got us the tickets and we were walking out in the Egyptian sun towards the Pyramids.

You don’t realize how huge they are until you reach quite close to them. They look as if they are made up of small stones from a distance, but the height of the lowest array of stones is almost up to my shoulder and weigh tonnes. And they are arranged in perfect symmetry with no mortar or cementing, just placed one on top of the other.

There is more about the three great pyramids of Giza. Do you know Orion’s belt? The hunter that appear in the night sky with three stars that form his belt? The three pyramids of Giza and the three stars in Orion’s belt are aligned in a way. The biggest pyramid is of Khufu, the smaller of his son Khafre and the smallest of Menkaure. Khafre made his smaller than his father’s out of respect. So his son menkaure followed suit and built his a little smaller than Khafre’s.

The entrance to a Pyramid is small, narrow, and people with claustrophobia were advised not to enter. Because it is a small narrow tunnel which you have to crouch and climb down by wooden plank steps, walk straight a bit and then do the crouching –climbing thingy up to see the Pharaoh's sarcophagus.  I went in.

This was the tunnel through which the Pharaoh’s body was taken in by the priests and mourners to be placed safely for his afterlife. The small room up had the cold stone sarcophagus. The coffin and mummy were taken elsewhere, you could only see the ancient king’s resting place made for him millenniums before. This room held all his treasures and belongings. This small room was the reason for the gigantic architectural marvels.

How the pyramids were exactly built is something Egyptologists are not too sure of. True, there are theories, of rolling the stones over logs, lifting the stones manually and bizarre ideas of aliens helping them out, but how they could build these colossal structures with each stone that weighs tonnes in an age so ancient and create it so perfectly?

After the Pyramids, we went to a point where the three pyramids could be seen together from a distance. This is where all the songs scenes that involve shots with the pyramids are taken. Then we saw the temple where the mummification was done. It’s a 72 days process. First thirty days is purification and the next forty days is mummification. In the purification part, the body is cleaned, the internal organs are taken out and salts are used to cleanse it. The 4 vital organs according to the ancient Egyptian tradition that are required in the afterlife are the lungs, stomach, intestines and stomach. They are placed in 4 jars. You must’ve seen it in The Mummy, right?

Then the body is embalmed with oil and essences, armed with amulets and other magical trinkets and placed in the coffin. Mourners, musicians, priests and people carry the Pharaohs body into the pyramid and place there all possible things he might need in the afterlife. Sam said that grave robbers opened the graves mainly for food. Gold and treasures were sought after that.

Next we saw the sphinx. Human face and Lion’s body. Khafre’s face to be exact. Like a guardian of the great pyramids. Its nose was smashed by a ruler who wanted to prove that he was powerful than Egyptians.

After taking in all this, we went for lunch. On the Nile! It was a floating restaurant. Food was Egyptian again coz we wanted to try that. Chicken cooked with their special spices, kebabs, meat rolled in grape vine leaves, salads and desserts with dates.

Then we checked in at Le Meridian, Cairo (Yes, I got to stay in there!).  After nice long rest we went back to the Pyramids area again. But this time, we were there for a light and sound show. No walking around. It was presented like the Sphinx telling a story. It talked about Egypt’s history, stories from the past, the pharaohs of the pyramids and the glory of the ancient Egyptian civilization. It was a lovely sight. And there was a cool breeze and it was pleasant to sit out there and watch the show.

Dinner was on a rooftop restaurant. Food was great as usual, not going into details. I could still see the outline of the Pyramids from where I was sitting. I still had one more day in this city, close to the place I’ve longed to see.

Alexandria

Prologue

Is there one thing that you always wanted to do? Something you kind of dreamt of since forever? For me it was Egypt. My folks still find it crazy, but even as a kid that is one place I wanted to visit. 

Now, my School's library is in the new building that connects the Lower school to the Upper school. Back in the ancient times when I used to be a school girl, it used to be right next to the Office room. There, near that window which overlooked Lourdes Cathedral, there was a shelf with an awesome book on Egypt which some of my Egypt crazy friends and I used to read up and be amazed. The glory of the giant pyramids, ancient stories from an age old civilization, the details of the mummification process, names of their multitude of gods- I was under the spell of the Gift of Nile. 

June 18^th, 2014

Cochin -> Mumbai -> Sharjah -> Alexandria. 

It was a really bright and sunny morning when I landed at the Alexandria airport. Not many people would be overjoyed about leaving the air-conditioned airport to face the hot dry weather, but I couldn’t wait. I was finally at Egypt! Think happy, and multiply it by 1000. That’s the kind of feeling I’m talking about.

As soon as we stepped out, we were met by a chirpy, bubbly Shima, who was our guide at Alexandria, and Thareeq , the ever smiling driver. Though we all were tired and sleepy after some 12 hrs of travelling, Shima didn’t give us more than 20 minutes to quickly freshen up and go for the city tour. She was as proud of Alexandria as I was of Thrissur, so it showed when she talked about each place she pointed out.

First stop was lunch and we wanted to try the local cuisine. I forget the place’s name, but what they served was simply wonderful. First was Koshidi- A blend of rice, noodles, and pasta topped with tomato puree, fried onion and chick peas. Then we had Shawarma. Not the fast food types you get on the streets here, the real deal. Beef. Was lip smackingly good.

After lunch we were off to see the Citadel of Alexandria. It was originally the site of Ptolemy’s light house. But after an earth quake destroyed it, they built this citadel there. By the way, a citadel is a fortress on top of a hill. Next stop was the library of Alexandria. Though we were still full from lunch, Shima insisted we try ice cream from one of her favourite stores nearby. And since her favourite flavour was vanilla, I had to get a scoop of that plus what I wanted! But I don’t regret it. It was one of the richest, creamiest Vanilla ice cream scoops I had had.

Still holding ice cream cones in our hands, we reached the library. It was an elliptical dome. Shima, a PhD student talked about how cheap the membership fees was for students and how helpful she found the place, about the types of books and artefacts in the library, about how Alexandria got its name from Alexander the great...There was a sun dial and a planetarium in the premise too.

Then we visited a mosque. I had never been inside one before, so it was something new for me. There was a section for the ladies and another for the men. A Quran recital competition was going on when we entered. The wooden ceiling had beautiful carvings. I saw the side of the mosque facing Mecca.

And now Shima declared that the scheduled places at Alexandria were done, but if we wanted to go anywhere else, she was game to take us. But as rest was inevitable at this point, we headed back to Radisson Blue where a hot shower and a huge bath tub beckoned me. I wanted to be up and about the next day, for 19^th June, 2014 is when I would go see the Pyramids.

Children's Day Rant

Chilly breezes have started making their presence felt, making waking up a really hard thing to do, making me think of Christmas already.

There's one other thing that this autumn breeze reminds me of- the 'thud's of closing brown windows back at school.The way we used to keep stones so that they wouldn't close(later on the latch thingies were installed). Half yearly exam at school would be sometime in December. And a bit before that we'd have Children's day celebration. Like today! 

I recall being a Nurse, a Teacher and Mother Mary for the fancy dress competition held in school as part of the Children's Day celebrations. Also that skit we performed in Class 4 on child labour. With Simi Miss as our Class Teacher. For which we won the first prize.

Children's day itself would have only a few little things like this for me to remember of. But spending my childhood at NMCS was awesomeness. The kids now don't find school as great as it was for us. But that's because we had all the fun, we broke all the rules, so yeah, sorry, you kids don't get to do things that we did.

A friend of mine here from Pune holds that his Boys' school was way more fun than any co-ed school. I simply do not agree. I mean, how can it be? You have boys, you have girls. You have all the fun with your girl/boy gangs, plus you get the fun of being together!

Like, at first, if you chatter a lot, you'd be warned by your teacher that you'd be made to sit in between boys. But in a few years, that would be the sweetest punishment you could get. All those years of growing up together, the teasings, the gossips, the fights, the groups, the crushes...and most importantly, the friendships :D

Appa has a gang of friends from college whom he still meets. I do too. From, school. The strongest, the closest people I have are still from school. Those idiots next to whom I sat in class 8 always, how hard Jihan Miss tried to shuffle the Class. we'd be togther. Some how. 

Canada, Pune, Chennai or Thrissur, when we meet, we just become our usual crazy selves. 

Well, childhood is something special for all of us. And we all have a little kid within us (And some of us still kid around a lot :P ). No matter how we hated homeworks, exams, assignments, those occassional 'caning's, we'll still remember school with a little smile. We really grew up there. Together. And there's no dearth for stories once we start talking of that place.

Reality Check

Life gives you issues, problems, situations that you can't deal with. And then it gives you reality checks. I didn't know Chintan Buch too well. But he was the second person I met on my first day at campus. And now he's no more. Sahil too.

Suddenly the things that you thought were big and huge becomes trivial. People who were with you are no longer there. People whose lives were entwined with theirs are going to have a real tough time. I hope they find the strength to cope up with the loss.

Who knows if tomorrow is yours? Each day is a gift, a blessing. you never know what might happen the next day, the next hour. You may plan a lot of things but life...how do you know how long you have?

I wish I hadn't wasted days and time away. All that we do in the time we have on this earth is the only thing that counts. And what we do affects others- their time on the face of this planet.

People wants to know the future, go back to the past but just forget to live in the present. It never made sense to me before. Now it's starting to. We're all here for sometime. We're blessed with a set of people who share the kind of same time line. It would make that short while pleasant for all of us if we only be nice to each other. Silly fights and bad blood doesn't seem to make sense. What if you never get a chance to apologize later? What if they don't get a chance to make it up with you?

Today I see Chintan's face on many people's DP and cover pic. People are trying to hold on to the good memories, cherishing the time well spent. One day it would be yours. Mine. Life is a wonderful gift. It should be enjoyed to the fullest before the curtain falls. 

Phase.

If it wasn't for darkness we wouldn't know light. So it is alright if things are not always alright, right? I was one proud and content and deliriously happy person and suddenly it's all gone down the drain. Suddenly it's all cold. And it's not November that's making me feel chilly. But if all that happened before was just a phase, all what's happening now is just a phase too. I'll be fine. Won't I, honey?

"And I Say, thank you for the Music!"

This be another fresh Sunday morning. I’ve woken up with a great mood, feeling completely pleasant and content. Gayu is in the kitchen already and I’m sure some delicious aroma would waft this way in a few minutes. Eli and Jumi are at church.

I feel quite thankful to the big guy up above. Thankful for being able to share Giggles, aka HOME with these three. It’s been about a year that we’ve started staying together, and this has been one of the best years of my life.

The only thought in my mind after joining work was to get away from here, ASAP, look for a job that’s closer to what I’d learnt, get away from a place with silent, monotonous people who are glued to computers for most part of their lives, and now I find that I feel differently.

We still run around in the Aakashganga society. Run around as in hold our hands and literally run around the place. We still walk down the roads singing songs and laughing loudly. We still manage to get into silly misadventures and laugh ourselves to sleep most nights. One year at Infy does not seem to have rubbed on its ‘silent-serious-monotonous-people’ effect on us.

Even my Infy hours are fun these days. I’ve started playing badminton again. Thanks to Madhu. I’ve picked up quilling, something I’ve grown to love. Giggles is a 100% quilling basic literacy achieved home. I’ve also joined the Poona Musicale choir, so now even on my weekends I get to do something really worthwhile and enjoyable. Music, you be such an awesome thing. If life can be a song, currently, mine is a soft, smooth, happy one. Not a great classical piece, but something like a good pop song from sometime back that’d bring a smile on your lips when you hear it after ages quite unexpectedly.

Though things haven’t always been great, I know I can feel alright pretty soon coz of the people I’m with. People do have that kind of an effect on me. I was supposed to be the first one to leave Giggles, now it looks like I’ll be the last. I’m quite happy with the way things are now,  and when Jumi and Eli speaks of moving, I feel uneasy. Now I understand how Gayu must have felt when all three of us, me especially, used to speak of moving.

Some phases in life are simply too blissful that you’d want time to stay still. I know it wouldn’t, and that time would fly by. But if it could stop here for a while, I’d be only too happy. Giggles will never be the same without all of us together. Just like the Harihar Nagar series wouldn’t be the same without the 4 main characters.

But life will move on. None of us knew that we’d be working at Infosys, of all the places, when we took up Journo, Vis comm. or literature. But Infy happened. Giggles happened. Something better will happen to all of us. And even after that, when we meet, I’m sure the madness will remain. 

When Death comes home.

Ever known death up close? i hadn't. Death used to be in movies and books. In other people's houses. Far away from me and my world. Until June 12th.

Started writing it ages ago. i don't think i'll finish this one. Coz when i try, i see her face on a poster against the wall. Inside a mobile feezer in our hall. In the coffin at the cemetery. And i go cold and numb. I miss you mammy. 

Back to Pune. This time, at Giggles.

 At Mysore they pampered us. They gave us the best of everything. And then they parcelled us off to Pune in a 14 hour long bus journey.

The Pune ECC was welcoming enough. It was the actual hotel hotel. Here, all of us, boys and girls were put up in that one same building. Of course the amenities were awesome too. But we were busy with a different task now. No, not the job.

House hunting. We were shown around houses of all kinds in the little area of Pimple Saudagar. I fell in love with Aakashganga the minute I saw it. The others wanted to make sure that we had chosen the right option so they went around to a lot of other places. But finally we ended up at Aakashganga.

By the way, ‘others’ include Jumi, Elena and Gayathri. Jumi, AKA Sleeping beauty is kinda like me in many things. She would sing out, do the valips, thinks similar, talks the same words I do exactly at the same time as I do. She’s nice and jolly.

Elena dear is the sceptic. The perfectionist. My companion when it comes to leaving late from work. Ever caring, ever helping.

Gaya is our very own Appukkuttan. That look-that untimely giggle-that’s all that takes to set us all off. By the way, our house, no, home is named ‘Giggles’ coz this is where we are learning to live the fun way.

A few months back, I never knew anything about cooking, the value of money, adjusting, responsibility and the like. Living at our own apartment has taught me a lot of things. For starters, one needn’t wash rice grains for half an hour. Also, if the electricity bills are not paid, the power gets cut. And that it’s okay to sleep on the floor for a few months before you’ve saved enough to buy a cot.

There are a lot more things I need to learn though. I’m still a shellfish. May in due course of time, I can be better and make our Giggles even more warm?

‘Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forward,’ One of those ‘though for the day’ lines we used to read out at the morning assemblies. Things are starting to make sense. Things do happen for a reason. Everything happens for a reason. I’m glad they do.

Mysore DC- The Place to Be

"Did you find your room?"
"Yes, Appa."
"Do you think you can come out to meet me in ten minutes?"
"um....i'm not sure...This whole place is a maze...i don't think i'll find the way out in.."
"Okay, then, i'll see you next time. I've gotta head fot the bus stand."
"um...Okay."
"You alright, right?"
"Yep. Bye!"

With a telephonic bye, i was stranded in Mysore. No, Mysore DC- the place to be.

Finally, after all that waiting , i got my call letter and on the 23rd of July (yeah, just a week before my B'day) here i was ,in Mysore.

The place looked as if it didn't belong to the usual India that we see outside its gates. Spick and span roads meandered through lush greenery where architectural masterpieces mushroomed. Everything i saw was different. Magneficient.

The hostel room was more like a hotel room, complete with A/C, TV, coffee table, two huge wardrobes and anything else a fresh trainee would need. You could mess up the room however you pleased, but it would always be made for you. They simply pampered us with facilities over there.

Do you want to play, at Mysore DC, you had cricket fiels, football fields, basket ball courts, badmiton courts, squash courts, table tennis boards, lawn tennis courts, swimming pool, a complete gym, aerobics classes, yoga, snookers, rock climbing, bowling alley...you name it, it was all here.

The DC was also armed with 7 food courts which housed a variety of counters which served a multitude of dishes that promised to satisfy any palate. All at a subsidized rate.

It was one awesome place- If you had the time for it! At Infosys. you learn. Learn as in educatge yourself, books, tests etc...that happens a lot. That happens quite consistently and strenuously that you'll be amazed at yourself. Even people who never bothered to learn in schools or colleges would find themselves at war with sleep struggling to finish assignments and learn more- For the TPI.

The TPI , or Training Period Incentive is that wonderfull extra 5000 that they promised if we get straight A's for all the tests and assignments conducted(which eventually nobody got but everyone struggled for).

For the first time in my life, i compromised my 8 hours of sleep. There was no way one could get that with all those assignments and tests and the Compre...oh my God, the Compre!

I ceased to see daylight for most of my stay in the DC and familiarized myself with the nightlab- the wonderful long hall with lots of computers where you stayed up after 11pm to learn (and slept off uncontrollably despite the security guard's scolds in kannada...)

Mysore seems to be ages away now.

A lot happened in the short span of 11 weeks.A hectic, busy and wonderful 2.5 months.

Of the 30 people in our batch, 13 turned out to be Malayalees. The whole batch was a mad lot. Fun was never ending.

Mentioning class would never be complete without naming Lijasa and Deepasa- my group mates. These guys changed me from "Do-not-disturb-me- while-learning" types to almost a normal human collage going spirit.

I guess the very first thing i've said to Deepn was to stop playing music while i did my assignments as it disturbed me. But now, i love working working with music. Especially Mombasa.

Both the 'Asas made my class time so much fun. I've never been scolded by any teacher in my entire student life for disturbing the class in any manner. At Mysore, we were always caught for talking, giggling, and other class time "no-no"s.

Fruit Ninja became my addiction during this period. How i would battle hard with Lijasa to win the highest! (I still win, btw. Except maybe the zen mode :P)

A lot of good times happened here, Purple haze, Onam, My b'day, Krupa's B'day, little outings, night time singing, all time madness, sometimes lonliness, no time to call home...

I really wish i'd started writing my diary in Mysore. It would have been the first pages of a wonderful new chapter in my life. Mysore DC- The Place to be.

Missing Home :(

I miss home.  ‘Home’ as in Room #623, Girls’ hostel, Symbiosis knowledge village, Lavale. Lovely Lovely Lavale. Two years back around this time I must’ve started my SIMC days. Anxious, hopeful, happy and content. I just got my dream. And I just wish it was still going on.

That place was truly heaven on earth.  Monsoon brought the hills alive, colouring it green and the air cool and misty. Also with the little insects of vibrant colours, the frogs that came inside the hostel to eat them, followed by the snakes who came in to fulfil their role in the food cycle...

Getting drenched, getting sick, ending up wrapped in a blanket on bed, timely checks by friends, going to the campus doctor, getting pissed coz he prescribes only one single pill for all known diseases...Gosh...I am beginning to miss even the stuff I thought I hated there...

I’ll miss the creaky cycles sans bells, pedals, breaks and the way in which someone else would race past me to grab the one last cycle on the stand when I’m in a hurry to reach class.

I’ll miss getting ready long time before the bus timings and hurrying any poor soul that chooses to come along with me so that we get seats to sit for the 40 minute journey downhill to the city.

Dear mess, I know I’ve talked shit about you endless times, complaining, whining and hating coming into you for food (especially lunch) but, please accept my apologies. I don’t mind if there is no aloo in my aloo paratha, I don’t mind having roti and dal all day every day, I just wish I had more days to spend there, eating whatever you had to offer me. I’ll miss my 8 sachet coffee. I’ll miss that wonderful feel when I see veg burger and omelette, my favourite breakfast combo. I’ll miss having gulab jamun from both the floors, having both paneer and chicken on the non veg days in the same way and I will seriously miss getting in happily at the sight of hot tomato soup on a cold rainy day.

 Thrissur now RMCO and I tried it. Big, huge treadmills they have. But nothing beats walking down the hill in the evening with music in my ears.  I know the hairpin bends by the trees and plants I see. I used to know the exact locations of appoppan thadi plants and when the pods are about to burst. My white fluffs. I’ve never blown so many appoppan thadis, to my heart’s content. I dearly miss you my long curvy path.

The helipad, I loved for the view. But the amphi...you know why I love you don’t you? On cold starry nights, to sit on the topmost steps and see both the city lights and star lights is one mesmerizing sight. One has to be there to know the feel. And you have another special reason...just like the fourth tree.

The canteen with its chit-money, the Delhi chat and its chicken chilly cheese roll-my comfort food, the store stacked with noodles of all brands, the ice-cream shop, the coffee shop with its cold coffee strong, Peach iced tea and sour plain mosambi I just loved...

And that ledge from which I lost my phone, the other one on which we used to sit late night, the one near the frog pond, the frog pond itself. Phew! So many many memories have this place given me.

And people. I’ve met all kinds of people in this small place. I don’t boast of making oodles of friends, but I have a handful, and they are true. And when it comes to people, this place has gifted me with someone I never never expected (More on that later).

I can’t wait to go back there, even if it is just to collect my mark list, or convocation, or alumni meet. I just have to go back. For that place has made me feel so much more home than anywhere else and it is the one place where I have been so totally free.

I am glad I went to SIMC. Those of you who has never been a part of it- Oh you poor poor things! You’ve missed the most awesomest campus in the country- and the one college in which you could enjoy  it fully.

The Girl who was never 'caned'

By the time you're in Class 8,if you are a 90s kid, you'd have been 'caned' at some point of time in school. That scary feel which comes when you have to open your palms wide for the brutal stick to fall on it, is something we must all have gone through. But not Serah. She had never been caned.

Pious Sir walked into 8B that day with his tattered old map. And tattered old map always held a cane within. So when he stated calling out roll numbers that day (he never called kids by names, only numbers.), there was that usual nervousness in the class.

Anjo ,Shreshta & I held our breath, crossed our fingers and prayed that our numbers wouldnt be called. God answered our prayers and called Serah instead. The poor thing stood up and tried answering ,but somehow words didnt make sense.

Usually ,Anjo would whisper or scribble the answers on the table for me & Shreshta , but as Serah was one row behind us, that couldnt work. I tried opening my notebook for her to peek, but i guess my wonderful handwriting looked like a bunch of squiggles to her. She was still stammering.

Well, his patience was running out and he walked forth towards Serah, asking her to extend her hand. But Serah had no intentions to taste the cane, so, surprising the whole class, she started running away from him!

Now that was something we had never seen, and never expected to, in Class 8.

'Stop running and show your hand ,or I'll hit you wherever I can reach!' he threatened

'No, No, Sir! Don't beat me! I'll write imposition! As many times as you say!'

The cat and mouse game inside class couldnt go on forever, so Pious Sir gave up and gave her a tonne of imposition to write. We all had a jolly good laugh and were happy that we lost quite a few minutes from the dreaded 45 minutes of history. And the girl who was never caned, remained uncaned.

May be the way i've written this won't make things seem as lively as it actually was. But way back in 2003,when this happened in a morning history class, it was one of the hilarious things that ever happened. :)

Missing the sheep...

December has that distinct Christmas flavour. In school it used to come with the winds that knocked the windows shut loudly.Those little shopping sprees for christmas cards, the whole 'christmas friend' excitement, school carols, the crib making competition.... Later, thanks to Philip uncle, the best part of my christmas became the carol competitions across Thrissur.

I don't wanna write about the beauty of four part singing here. You've gotta experience that yourself. Around a month before christmas we start practising. With the famous chaya and parippuvada combo up in the church balcony or library hall.

This is where the 'V' club(just for valips) was born. With wonderful members including Linu Babu, George Immatty, Joseph Abbey, Abhijith Charles and yours truly...Either we open our mouths to sing, or we open it to let out the next big valip of the year.

How we managed to practise in the midst of valips, cackling laughter sessions, food adi, discussing the uniform etc remains a mystery. But we did. Though I doubt if Mr George Frederick Handel is pleased with our renditions.

Here on the Lavale hills I miss christmas. It has the wintery feel, chilly breeze etc, but my dear warm Thrissur seems much christmassier than here. I miss the infinite number and varieties of cakes that amma would bake back home. I miss those little glasses of wine we sip when each guest comes in. I miss going for endless practices on my Flikky. I miss going to each new stage and the tension before each performance, the anxious wait before the result, the joy of winning, the gloom of losing, the food therafter...

Christmas might be a holy religious day for some. It could just be another international holiday for the others. It could be the family get together time for yet others. But for me, the whole of this season speaks of harmonized notes and mellifluous sounds. And all of the sheep.

Back to that Hill...

I remember that hill slope. The barbed wire fence that went around has rusted now. A few years back, only a single line of wire had broken. And it was through that little opening that he and I raced to the top of the hill.

It was a clear sunny day. Like the old songs said, the grass was as green as you would want them, soft to our bare feet , the sky a brilliant shade of blue so pleasing to look at, speckled with fluffy white clouds. Little flowers grew here and there on the hill in varying shades. It was here that we made a banquet for ourselves with yet another lot of stolen food- A loaf of bread, a couple of oranges and that chocolate bar which had slipped off the hands of a little girl...

Life had taken a quirky turn when I met him. I gave up my dinner table with a spread that would never leave me unsatisfied. I gave up my wardrobe which would house any cloth that I chose point my fingers at. I gave up the softness of my bed and warm blanket. When I had to choose between all these and him, my heart whispered his name, and i was out in the wilderness with him.

I loved him a lot, but he loved me even more than that. Though I no longer had the luxuries of home ,I was still happy. In fact, more than happy. It was all an adventure for my 17 -year-old self. Everyday we walked on further. New places, new people... Sometimes we did small odd jobs for money.And other times we just stole the food we wanted. Some times we made a cozy little tent to sleep in. And at other times, we slept beneath the starry sky. We were happy,content, satisfied. We had each other.

This grand old tree down the hill is now bereft of its leaves. When a guard shood us away in the middle of our lunch that day on top of the hill for tresspasssing, it was under it's shade that we took shelter. We lay side by side in the aftrenoon sun holding hands. The little rays of sun peeked in through the lush green and yellow leaves , but they were soft, not disturbing our heavy eyelids.

He hummed an old folk song ,my favorite and I smiled, turning towards him. He was looking up at the sky, enjoying the picturisque beauty surrounding us. His eyes had their distinct twinkle. I could see those little black lines inside the brown iris. I could see the wind ruffling his hair and his smile. He put an arm around me and I felt good. Safe. I could now sleep blissfully.

Though a lot of things have changed here, the brook is still the same. It still sprays and froths. It rushes by in its hurry. The water is icy cold and fresh. It sped on over the jagged stones untamed by the brooks hurry.

He was looking at me when I opened my eyes from my sleep that day. He showed me the little mud path he'd spotted on the other side of the brook. We were off again.

The stones were sharp beneath my feet. I still hadn't gotten used to walking barefoot.I'd never realised how much slippers and shoes meant to the human kind.The water was knee deep and the bed was uneven. The stones showed no mercy at all. It was hard to walk across with the rushing water and the jabbing stones under my feet. I tried not to show it, but I kept slipping and sliding and he could see shades of red and purple on my feet. He came closer, held my hand and helped me walk. It was a relief to feel the sand and grass.

The mud path gave way to an old rickety bridge that swung lightly with the wind. There was a little village ahead on the other side. Dusk was setting in soon and the breeze turned chilly. Momentarily, goosebumps arose on my hands. He ran his hands on mine and hugged me tight. We stood on that old bridge like that for a while. Little orange dots in the distance showed us the village in the increasing darkness now. He wanted us to walk faster, before we were left stranded on the old bridge in the darkness.

He walked on ahead , gingerly, testing each step for me to take. I followed, holding his left hand, which he'd held out for me. I didnt realize what happened when suddenly he pushed me back. The bridge was shaking, and i was sitting on it, and I was holding on to thin air. It was completely dark now and i couldn't see him. I called out his name but all I could hear was my own voice echoing from the deep valley. Frantically , I tried feeling about for him in front of me, and my fingers felt cold as they traced a gaping hole right in front of me. He was gone.

I must have screamed out loud because some traders near the bridge's other end coming from the village rescued me. I never thanked them for their kindness. I was shouting out for him. But I knew it was in vain because I could hear them talking about how deep he must have fell....how he couldn't have lived... I screamed. I wanted him back. I couldn't live without him. My sweet traveller, my love, my all.

But I lived. He'd taught me to. And I went on to more places, met more people , learned the ways of the world. I'm not the innocent little 17-year-old anymore. I've changed. But he never changed inside me. So when the roads I chose brought me back here years after, I still feel him. The hill, the tree, the brook....they light up my memories- bring him closer to me. And tonight I sleep alone- beneath the old tree, wishing upon the stars above to show his smiling face in my dreams.

An Angry Rant

He's six years younger to me. Why does he get to do things six years before I could?

I had nothing against having a baby brother. Sure, I wished for a little girl with whom I could play "Barbie" & dress up. But I was cool about him being a boy.

It's a story told again and again, but still, why did i always have to let him win? Did I choose to have a sibling 6 years younger to me?'Isn't he younger to you?' Is that my fault in any way?

It was never okay when my report card showed marks less than 90 %. But when he brings home a mixed bag of Bs and Cs and Ds it's always Okay.

It's alright if he goes to the corner store at night to buy anything he likes. And I should plead with him to 'accompany' me? I'm not scared of the night. Or the 'creatures' of the night.

I've always wanted to go out with my friends, watch movies,eat out go for little trips. And the permission was never granted. And he gets to go and do all that.

In the first post i wrote about my first adventure. About my first bus ride. I realise it is way lame. WAY LAME. Because my baby brother has been there,done that and more ,4 years before i did.

He can leave his plate on the dining table and leave. He needn't put his dirty clothes into the Washing Machine. The idiot gets to choose what he wants to learn and where he wants to go, when i couldnt with all that marks i had.

All because he is a BOY?

Note to self

1. Follow Lejin's DTA

2.No masks. They were only for him and it's over.

3.Think of what u've come through,then u won't feel bad abt anything.

4.Someone LOVES you a lot.YOU.And that's never gonna change.

My Duet with Celine Dion

'And you're heeeeeeeeeeeeeeere in my heart and...my heart will go oooooooooooooooon and oooooooon......How's it Georgetta?'

'nice....but you need to put more...'feel' into it.'

Georgetten's my cousin. My first Photoshop teacher. My music helper.My guinea pig when i buy a new flavour of Tang.My Yellow Rose.

Oops! before i go on being sickly sweet ,let's get back to the story. I was in Class 11 and i was gonna perform for the Charity Day Event at Chaldean Centre.Of course you know what i was going to sing.Georgetten had come home to help me out-give me tips,correct me,make the whole thing sound better and all that.

'Why do u make dat sound? did u bite a chilly?' i asked kuttan(my brother)

I was trying hard to do this thing perfectly,and this idiot was sitting next to me making these stupid sounds.

'Di, i was trying to give the 'feel' sound. Georgetten and amma laughed.

Kuntham. Why can't i get this 'feel' thing? I was trying really a lot to make that come.But the 'feel' never did.

And no one's taking me seriously. Hmph! I'll show them when i actually sing the damn song on the stage.

*****

The hall upstairs in Chaldean Centre is huge. So is the stage. I was wearing my 'Juliet' costume to get the 'feel' which i was missing all day.My mom was sitting with all her 'women's youth' friends from where she could get a perfect view of me. She was already telling them about what i was going to sing.

I walked up the huge stage and i could see people backstage staring at my dress. Ofcourse. This is Thrissur.What is this 'big kutty' doing wearing a 'dress'?

'Next we have Reshma Raju Emmatty singing the 'Titanic song' 'said the compere and I switched on the mic in my hand.There were lots of people by now. I could see Amma clearly.And Georgetten was right down the stage putting the Karaoke CD in for me. I was supposed to give him a nod to let him know that I was ready. And i did.

The intro music started.I tapped my feet to the rhythm, cleared my throat away from the mic, took a deep breath and started singing.

I amazed myself. I was awesome! Take that ,ppl! I could hear the 'feel' in my voice.It was here! And every little slur was perrrrfect. It was like i was singing just like Celine Dion! Wait a minute- am i sounding exactly like her?

Rewind.

Georgettten and I had got two CDs - one with the original track for me to listen to and learn and the other one from Kalyan recordings with the Karaoke .

Play.

Did Georgetten just put in the original Cd???

I tried lowering my sound a bit...to check . And i found my fears were true. Georgetten had put the original song and i was singing along with Celine! no wonder i sound great. What will people think when they find out???

Gulp!

but my gulp never affected the song. Why would Celine stop for me?

From then on, it was a battle between me and Celine. I tried to be louder and still keep in sync so that people wouldnt find out about this mix.

But when the track reached to the 3rd stanza, Celine beat me. I had problems with the high pitched last stanza and when we reached that portion, Celine and i parted ways. She went on smooth and strong ;I cracked. And people knew.

Every one gave sarcastic smiles when i got down the stage. And cold stares and murmurs. I could see that they were all talking about me- how i tried to do something i possibly couldnt. How i tried to 'cheat' the crowd and got red handed...I could see Amma still not believing Rosy aunty's accusitions about me trying to be 'oversmart.'...

Going to school was a relief next morning. Atleast I would get busy with other things than think about the dreadful time last night. It was languge hour. You could just sit around and chat in that hour if you didnt make too much noise.

we were all doing our usual stuff when Antony Varghese came down and sat next to me.

'Did you guys know, i saw an amazing performance last night,' he started.

I was crossing my fingers.

'It was at the Chaldean Centre. Big hall.'

I'm done for it.

'This girl walked on the stage wearing a big gown sort of dress'

well, the rest is history. Every one in school knew about my 'duet with Celine' too. Ever since that incident, i somehow dislike listening to that song.

And for some strange reason, for that year's Ootty trip, Georgetten made me a CD with that particular song in 5 different versions.