Happy New Year

He was an infant a year back,
Now he is grown so old, he can hardly walk,
He is done with his share of joys
And his burden of sorrows

His body's frail but twinkle in his eyes,
A sweet smile and laughing lines,
Furrows on his forehead that
Show how learned he is

As he packs his bags and turns to leave,
He can't help but think
Of all the days that he brought along
And of all the things he taught us

He turns back to take one last look
Of the world that he is leaving behind
And sees an infant in his place
All ready to take on the world
He gives a warm smile, pats the infant
And says "Welcome, 2007"

Another year comes by
And I know not what it brings
But I do know it offers the same number
Of days, hours, minutes and seconds
And I plan to use it wisely

Time to say good-bye

As I take a backup of the required things and clean my PC, I have a heavy feeling in my heart. The place where I spent 8 hours a day, five days a week for more than two years is going to be alien to me. The same place where I could come and go whenever I wanted, will demand my credibility the next time I come here. Funny, huh?

I spent 2 years and 7 months in this place which I call my work place. It has taught me a lot of things. It has shown both the good side and bad side of the corporate world. Not only has it helped me add weight to my resume by teaching me technical jargons, but also groomed me on a personal level. I take people's words with a pinch of salt now. Yeah, you can say I have become wiser.

Will I miss anything when I am gone from here? Certainly not the cafeteria food. I will miss the magnificent view I got from the office terrace. I will probably miss talking to a few of my colleagues. Oh yeah, I will miss the comic books that my colleague used to lend me. Now, that's a big loss. I will miss his witty remarks, his irritating PJ's. But, more than the people here, I think I am going to miss the building, my desk, my machine, my shelf, my phone and my board markers. Ironical, isn't it? People react, non-living things don't. But, I'll still miss these dead things rather than my co-workers.

As I pick up my bags and turn back, I see a place which made me wiser, stronger (and definitely richer), but above all I see a place which I can call my second home.

Adios, friends. Thanks for bearing with me for so long.

Your humble abode, no more?

Of all the other things I did over the last weekend, I visited my Mom's place. It's an ordeal for me. Not because I don't like visiting her place, but it is so far away from my house, that I call it a little picnic. Pack your bag (no lunch required, that's taken care of by Mommy dear), grab a book and off you go for a long, long ride. My husband is patient enough to ferry me all the way and back while I spend the time judiciously reading. I drive sometimes, but that's quite rare.

Nothing special about this visit, but it led to a start realization. A revelation, in its own sense. I was helping my Mom in the kitchen and every time I wanted some thing, I had to ask her where it was. Want a kadhai, ask her. Want the lighter, ask her. Need water to drink, ask her. As this ask and fetch went on for sometime, I felt so sad that this is the house where I spent more than 20 years of my life and now I am a stranger! Yeah, my Mom has moved to her own house now, but that's not enough reason not to know where things are located, right?

The sorrow that engulfed me after that, didn't leave me for the whole day. My husband tried to console me by saying that I have got my own house in exchange of my mother's house.

A girl's life is quite weird in that sense. She grows up in a house thinking that it's her own and one day lightning strikes and it's no longer her house. She has a sparkling new house with new and not-so-friendly faces in exchange, whether she likes it or not. From that day, everything changes.


This weekend, we ran down to Belgaum and back. Not literally, but that sums up our trip quite well, considering that we were in Belgaum for just 12 hours.

We traveled by Pai Travels, Volvo and it was extremely comfortable. No noise of the other vehicles on the road, good, comfy seats with leg support. They even give you a warm shawl. Nice, huh? Talk about customer car. VRL, are you listening?

I woke up to the lush, green fields of north Karnataka. The beautiful trees and the mist greeted me with a wide smile. The road seemed to dance along with our bus and looked like a small kid who is excited to have guests come over to its place. The whole place was covered with light mist, giving it a very hill station look. My eyes reached out till the horizon to take in as much beauty as they could.

I found Belgaum to be a peaceful. laid back city. Not much traffic on the road, all people seem to have all the time on their hands. No hurrying off to work or to catch a bus. What's the hurry, let's take life slowly, right? With Marathi words falling on his ears, my husband felt at home.

The best part of the town is the military camp, of course. The camp spans over a wide area (I don't know the exact figure, but it sure is huge). British military were based here in those days and this area does have a very regal look. It's green everywhere, houses peppered here and there, one black road runs in between as if ripping the greenery apart. Houses have a vintage look, black stone walls, red roof and so calm and quiet as if nobody stays there at all!

Wouldn't it be nice to stay in a place like this? You bet.

What is the time, Mr. Software Engineer?

What is it about software industry and punctuality? When the software industry was born, was there a deal made with punctuality that both of them can't exist together?

I myself am in this industry and the one of the few things I hate about it is tardiness, not being punctual. Meetings are scheduled at 10 AM and it always starts atleast 10 minutes late. This not only reflects in the professional life, but it also sneaks into personal lives.

Movie starts at 6 PM and you reach the theater at 6.15. You fix a time of 10 AM with other people and you end up coming half an hour late! You don't even bother informing those waiting that you will come late.

Why do people take others' time for granted? All these sloppy people should spend a month in Mumbai. When they miss trains by seconds and lose pay by minutes, they will realize what time means. They will understand the fact that time can be measured in seconds and not only in minutes (or for some people it's in hours).

It's time people respected others and other's time.

A touching gift

For our second wedding anniversary, my husband gave me a wonderful surprise. He bought a cute little barbie for me! Yeah, I know I am 20+, but a toy won't do any harm.

My family was not very well off. I wouldn't call ourselves poor, but we didn't spend money like water. Every penny was accounted for. If I wanted to buy a pencil, I was never denied one, but my parents would ask me an account of what happened with the rest of the money they gave me.

Coming from a family which didn't earn more than 5K a month and which didn't believe in lavish life style, it was natural that I didn't spend my childhood among barbies and stuffed toys. I grew up in a small village where there were no shops dedicated for toys. Well, I don't think there were any good toys in the general shops either.

I had never touched a barbie in my life. None of my cousing, none of my friends, nobody I knew owned a barbie. I would watch the delicate barbie dolls and the cuddly stuffed toys on TV and dream that I too will own one of those one fine day. And that dream of mine has come true. Thanks to my husband and my dear mom.

My mom bought a cute, cuddly bunny for me from Singapore. Mr. Bunny has a cute pink nose and a pink bow around its neck. My husband bought me a dancing barbie, Genevieve with a little barbie called Lacey. Lacey spins and barbie twirls. They even have a pet cat called Twyla.
It shows the drastic change our lives have gone through. There was a time when my Mom would think twice before buying me a Rs.35 frock and now my husband went to a shop, picked a barbie worth Rs.1,500 and didn't even think once if it was really worth it or where that money was coming from.

All thanks to the education that my parents and my husband's parents gave us. Without our education backing us up and without our parents' blessings, we wouldn't be here where we are. I hope we end up giving our kids such a bright future and lovely life.

Hunting business

I am at it again. 18 months back, I did once and I am doing it again. What? House hunting. With time, we change jobs and with jobs, we change houses. Ad mag has a lot to offer. I can query by property type (independent house/ apartment), sale type (rent / sale), area (JP nagar, Benson Town etc.), requirements (2BHK, 3 BHK, with car park) and voila it gives a neat list of items that match my query. It even has a camera icon next to properties which have photographs! Neat, huh?

It's good time-pass to read the descriptions. Some ads have good descriptions like 2BHK, pooja room, 2 fans, 1 geyser, 1 bathroom, 1 car park etc.Some have weird ones: 3 bedrooms & 4 bathrooms (You people bathe more often than you sleep?)Some are terse: 2BHK flat jayanagar. Good location. Call immediately.Some owners go on to include a nifty photograph of their proud properties.

I have short listed some of them, picking the 'Brokers excuse' over the 'Brokers welcome'. Next step is to call each of them and find out if the property is still available and if yes ask questions that are not answered in the ad.

That's scheduled for today. Let's see how it goes.

It's your head, dumbo

With the helmet rule still on in this side of the world, I see helmets everywhere. Helmet on a luna, helmet on a bullett, helmet in a car... no the last one is not true.

There is a floating rumor that this rule might go away. Reason? The rule kicked in, peole bought their share of helmets, helmet shops cleared their stock, in short, mission accomplished. People think that the main reason the helmet rule came into being is to increase helmet sales. Hello!! I think you are forgetting one teeny-weeny fact. The helmet if for your protection. You wear the helmet, you save your head if you ram into a divider on a drunken night.

For all you dodos who make up reasons for the helmet rule and pray to God that the helmet rule goes away, I have just three words for you. "It's your head, you idiot". Yeah, yeah, I know that's not three words. So what?


This post was due on Children's Day. Better late than never.

Why do all people like children? Because they are innocent, they are non-judgemental, they are unbiased and above all, they are just lovable. The main difference in an adult and a kid (and which is why kids are kids) is innocence. The why's and what's that trouble adults, their assumptions, their mischievous smile - everything is based on the pure innocence. What if this main ingredient is taken out? Will you continue to like kids? I found that my answer to this is 'No'.

My niece-in-law, I mean, my husband's niece is 5 years old and she had recently visited us. She stayed with us for a fortnight and over these 15 days, my feeling towards went from love-like-ignore-dislike. I wouldn't use the word hate, but it came close to that. She compares herself with me, who is like her mother. She wants everything I want. I wear make-up, she wants it. I wear gold bangles, she wants it. She thinks looking beautiful is the most important thing in life.

Fairness is another obsession, which in fact is a side-effect of the first one. She wants people to tell her that she looks good and she is fair, which in fact, she is not. But, who cares? I would like the same even if she was pitch dark. She looks jealously at the neighboring kid and asks me, "Why am I not as fair as her?" I was flabbergasted. At her age, I didn't know fairness even existed, leave alone wanting it.

Gold. She wants to wear gold and feel important. She wants to decorate herself, admire herself in the mirror, walk the ramp in front of all the family members and won't quit until everybody gives her a nod of approval and a praise or two. She is god damn FIVE years old!

All this goes back to one main cause. Television. That's her biggest obsession. She is in front of the idiot box for as long as she is awake. And what does she watch? You name it and she watches it. Cartoons? Yes. Movies? Yes. Movie songs? Yes. Serials? Yes. Yes, you heard it right, she watches Ekta Kapoor serials. She adores all those saree clad, gold adorned, make-up smeared barbie dolls and that's the inspiration for looking good and looking fair (no, they don't go together. You need not be fair to look good and vice versa).

I tried explaining to her what kids her age should do. Didn't understand. I tried telling her how unimportant is looking good. Didn't understand. I gave up. This should explain the emotional wave of love-like-ignore-dislike, which almost reached hate. No, I don't blame her at all. Her parents, her care takers have made a terrible mistake for which she is paying the price.
This is the age where kids see a photo of Gandhi and say "Munnabhai". I won't be amused if people look at a photo of Bhagat Singh and then face a dilemma of naming that person Ajay Devgan or Bobby Deol.

People, please, don't deprive the kids of their basic right. Innocence.

The decision

All I can say is 'Thank God it's over'. After a lot of grey cells grinding, nail biting, saree end twirling, hair splitting, I finally took a decision. It was a dilemma. It was either my dream or my responsibility. And, many would find it shocking, I chose my responsibility.

I let go of my dream and decided to fulfill my duty. I know if I let it go now, I will never be able to make my dream come true. It's now or never. And still, I decided to stick to the latter. That does say some things about me. That I have finally become a family woman. I care more about my husband and his wishes over mine. I choose him over others, including me.

I just hope to God that we both continue to love each other in the same way. May this love never cease to exist.

Firefox 2.0

Firefox released the latest version. So did IE and so did Opera. I do not use the latter two browsers and I am a great fan of Firefox. The best thing I like about Firefox is the flexibility it provides to the users and the developers. Users can download any extension from the myriad available extensions. There is an extension for every possible thing that you can do with Firefox. Same way, the developers are given enough freedom to hack Firefox and add any feature which they deem as necessary.

With the latest Firefox released, I can't help but regret installing it. The only reason: most of my extensions are broken. Agreed, Firefox is smart enough to catch compatibility issues and inform you what extensions will not work and quietly disable it. It even searches for updates regularly and the moment any extension is upgraded, it informs you. But, why not inform the extension creators and ask them to upgrade the extension to be compatible with the latest version? After all, all it takes is a change in the maxVersion number, isn't it? At least, that's what I did for a few extensions to make them work.

With this complaint, I continue to use Firefox and admire it. Let's continue to fire the fox.

Ruffled because of Shuffle

My beloved Apple iPod breathed its last today. I bought it exactly 14 months ago and as predicted by hundreds of users online, my Shuffle died its last before it completed even a day more than 14 months.

If you google for iPod shuffle I/O error, you get so many pages and all the pages have users ranting about the same problem. My shuffle died, restore doesn't work, what do I do? It's quite obvious from all this that something has gone horribly wrong with Shuffle. How accurately can you goof up a product where it dies exactly 14 months after its birth? Yes, you can expect this kind of accuracy with Apple alone!

Know what tops all this? Apple knows Shuffle is faulty. The moment you step in to an Apple service center and show them your now-dead Shuffle, they will quietly replace it for a shiny, brand new baby on the spot. No questions asked. Even if your warranty is expired.

That says a lot about Apple and how much it values it customers. Why not withdraw the product from the market altogether instead of replacing the faulty ones?

Dream jobs?

A 10-day long vacation. All I did was cook, eat, sleep, watch T.V, play games and read books. The best holiday ever!

Life was so peaceful in those 10 days. My appetite was good, my sinusitis was under control, my stomach never grumbled and my head never ached. I have to go to office on Monday morning and I have all the problems I can think of. My stomach decided to act crazy, my nose imagined itself to be a fire hose, my sinus swelled up and before I knew it, I had a banging headache.

Why can't life be simple? Why do I have to work when I don't want to? Why do I have to do something which I don't like?

If I don't like what I am presently doing, what do I want to do? I want to own a library. Lend books to people and read a few books myself. Run a play home for kids. Play with them, enjoy their non-prejudiced, non-judging company and forget the evil, outside world. Teach. Yes, I have always wanted to teach and I am pretty good at it.

The truth is, I am not doing any of the above things. I am sitting here, in front of a dumb monitor, ranting about my life and hoping that it would be better one day. Hope, that's what keeps us alive, isn't it?

Death Penalty

I watched a good programme on TV last Sunday. Rajdeep Sardesai had Kamini Jaiswal (advocate), Seshadri Chari (BJP), Ashwini Kumar (Congress) arguing over Mohammad Afzals's death penalty. As the nation waits for the President to announce his decision, I couldn't help but think what my stand is.

I want Mohammad Afzal to be hanged. I do not believe in euthanasia. Why are the two connected? Becuase both of them boil down to just one question (at least to me): Does a human have the right to take another human's life?

I am totally against euthanasia and I don't want to get into justifying it. Let's stick to the death penalty question.

If a man rapes and murders a 4-year old girl child, should he be given the death penalty? 9 out 10 people will say yes. This probably was an act of instinct, desperation or just plain lust. It's still not justified, but the point here is that the crime was not planned.

If a group of people plan for months and carry out that plan which could have resulted in the complete wipe out of the top level politicians of a country, leaving the country's law and order to dogs, should they be given death penalty? If these people knew what harm they were about to cause, then? And when they were caught, if these showed no sign of remorse or guilt whatsoever, then? No, I do not want revenge. These guys were cruel enough to plan such a heinous act and stand by it instead of feeling guilty. His family is putting forth his innocent son to evoke sympathy in the hearts of Indians. That same son will grow up and become a terrorist himself.

It's time India shed its peace loving, non-violence worshipping nation and show its enemies that if we can suffer mutely, we can as well stand up and hit back with equal power. It's time we abandoned Gandhigiri and embraced Hitlerism. British were humans, Pakistanis are not.

I say hang Mohammad Afzal and hang every single terrorist who gets caught.

A new achievement, so to say

Ever been in a situation where your head is strapped down to a bed with metal rods and bolts and you are shoved into a metal cylinder which is so small that you can't move your hands around and your only company is a pair of screws that mockingly stare at you from the metal rod that holds your head down and the music to ease your boredom is the weird noises that the cylinder is making?

I was; for full 2 hours and I wasn't amused. It's as if I was being punished for some mistake and I wasn't even asked what my last wish was. It was not a death sentence, I know, but it was close, so damn close.

The technician who strapped me down and turned me into a guniea pig was mad that I revolted against being in this non-enviable position for ten whole minutes while he checked the images! He said I could use some patience. I wanted to tell him, "Yeah, you lie down here and I will strap you down and shove you into the cold furnace. Let's see how much patience you have. Lend me some if you have any."

People around me find it entertaining when I narrate my experience. They ask me stupid questions and when I answer with utmost seriousness and high emotions, all they do is laugh. I don't think that's funny. Not at all.

For people who don't know what I am talking about. This is called MRI (Magnetic Resonance Imaging). Wish none of you ever need to get this done. Ever.

If you ask me how it feels to be given this opportunity of being MRI-ed (that's my addition to the English dictionary, no other word can describe how it feels to get an MRI done), I can sum it all up in just one word. Claustrophobic. That's exactly how I felt.

Mental tussle

I have reached a stage where I have to choose between two wishes. Both wishes are equally important to me and I can't imagine letting go of one for the sake of another. No matter how much I try to defer this decision, I know one day I have to sit down and say I like wish A better than wish B and go with it.

Its sad to know that I have reached this stage at all. Could I have avoided it? Yes. Did I? No.

If I choose Wish A: I am happy that I went with A. Hubby is happy too. I am sad that I didn't go with wish B.
If I choose Wish B: I am happy that I went with B. Hubby is not all that happy. I am sad that I didn't go with B.

If you see the above situation, anybody would suggest that I should go with A because lesser number of people are sad. But, I can't go with A because if I let go of B now, I can never have that wish. Never again. That's not the case with A. I can defer it for sometime, of course with some risk involved.

I have further complicated this situation by telling my hubby about my mental state. He is sweet enough to say that he will support me no matter what decision I take. Even if he wants me to go with wish A from deep down his heart, he won't say it! He is so so so sweet, its all the more difficult for me to see him sad.

The bottom line is, I am in a fix. And I don't know what to do.

If you think I am talking gibberish, that's probably because I am.

That which we call a rose by any other...

Humans think they are the most powerful. To believe that we have the power to decide whether a ball of mass is a planet or not: what a cheek! Who are we to decide whether Pluto is a planet or not? It will remain the size and color regardless of what its title is. I can't fathom how we can declare that 'Pluto will no longer be considered as a planet'? That is pretentious, to say the least.

I can see God reading the Times of India, chuckling to himself and saying, "You forget a teeny-weeny point, my children. If I want, I can wipe out your planet. Are you sure your planet will exist tomorrow?"

And do I hear a far cry of "We are a planet"? And why do I feel they are strange, green colored creatures?

More on Orkut

Further to my previous rant about orkut, I found how someone can exploit orkut to make money.

I got a call on my office extension today. Here is the excerpt:

Phone rings...

Me: Hello
He: Am I speaking to Anamika?
Me: Yes
He: Hi, I am Sankalp. I am a consultant.
Me: Ok...
He: Can you give me your mobile number? I will call you in the evening and brief you about the requirements.

Me: Why don't you give me your mobile number and I will call you back?
He: I can't give you my number because my mobile is provided by the office.
Me: Then how dare you call me on my number which is not only provided by the office, but is within the office campus?
He: Give me your email id atleast, I will send you a mail.
Me: Who gave you my name and number?
He: Some reliable source. Can't disclose the name. (Yeah right, I am Britney Spears and you are paparazzi)
Me: Why not?
He: I can't. Give me your mobile number.
Me: What the ? Who the are you?

Beeeeeeeeeep......... He hung up.

After a lot of thinking and logical reasoning, I somehow feel that this information was procured from orkut. Well, if one has the patience to scan through plethora of unfamiliar faces and their unreadable scrapbooks and note the name of the person and the company he/she is working for, one sure is desperate: not to change one's job, but to make sure somebody else changes their job.

PS: His English was nowhere as good as this. His words were smeared with coconut oil. He was a Mallu.

My new found group

I became a member of the elite community orkut recently. I see my friends from a different angle. It's as if we all put up masks and play different roles when we are on orkut. The moment you log off, you are back to your original self. Strange, huh?

How many of these are you guilty of?

You put up the best of your photographs -- the more modern you look, the better.

You scriblle in your friend's scrapbook hoping that your freind's friend notices you and sends you a friend request.

You disable profile updates and sneak into all your close friends' and not so close friends' profiles to see if they have uploaded their fiancee's or girlfriend's or spouse's picture.

You improve your vocabulary by adding the word 'scrap' to your 2-page-dictionary. The first time one of my friends said, "I will scrap you", I cringed in disgust.

You can't take 2 minutes off to shoot a mail to your best friend, but can find enough liesure to login to orkut (Man, is it slow!) and wade through the list of your friends, find the one you are looking for and then scribble something. Oh yeah, I forgot that the point of scrapping someone is not because you want that person's attention but somebody else's who is on that person's buddy list.

So, why am I on orkut? Because I met some of my old friends who I wouldn't have met if not for orkut. I am not against orkut, I use it to keep in touch with few of my friends whose email ids I don't keep, because they are not that close. I use it to see what's happening in others' lives, just to see if something interests me.

But, when it comes to talking to my best friend, I don't scrap her. It has to be a long e-mail or a live chat or even better, pick up the phone and talk to her. Sad that she is not accessible on phone. I hope she finishes her MS and comes back soon. I miss her.

Steve's irony

The news of the death of Steve Irwin, the Crocodile hunter spread like wild fire. As soon as the words 'Croc hunter is dead' fell on my ears, my brain cells automatically deduced that he must have been killed by a crocodile. What else? He spent all his life amongst deadly crocodiles and alligators! His life was at risk every time he stepped into a lake or a sea, or touched an alligator or cuddled a crocodile. For someone whose life hung from a crocodile's sharp tooth, to be killed by a creature which is termed harmless, is a big irony. I guess he would be have been proud of himself, if he was killed by a crocodile. He would have imagined himself being gnawed by hungry reptiles, but I bet he wouldn't have even dreamt that he would be stung by a stingray. What an irony.


It tempts me and beckons me
It's always preying me
The more I close my eyes
The happier it is

It doesn't let me eat,
It doesn't let me play,
Nor can I read,
Oh, I am it's prey

I am starved at times
Of food and play
No eating and no reading
And I'm dazed all day

If you are wondering,
I have fallen in love,
This is worse, my friend,
I prefer to be in love

This is called sleep
And it can hit any time
You surrender to it and sleep
And when you wake up, you weep.

Oh, you insomniac,
you are the blessed one

Shehnai is silent

A few days back, the musical world lost a gem, Ustad Bismillah Khan. I remember him as the person who sat in our old tape recorder and played for us in the wee hours of Narakachaturdashi (Diwali) every year. I enjoyed the soft music that played in the background while I reluctantly got out of my slumbers and joined my Mom for the arati. I also remember him as the man who threatened to return the prestigious Bharat Ratna because he felt he was 'ignored'.

I know him as the Muslim man who stayed in a Hindu dominated place and worshipped Allah and Krishna with the same love. I know him as the man who lived in Varanasi for the whole of his life and wanted to die in the same place and did it. A person of a minority religion stayed in a place which is the religious hub of a rival religion, crossed the barriers of religion and hatred, and managed to win the hearts of people. He proved a point and that point was evident when Hindus and Muslims alike thronged his house on hearing the news of his death.

The master, with his Shehnai, managed to do something that the leaders of the nation couldn't. May be it's time to coin a new proverb 'Shehnai is mightier than the Prime Minister's power'. All I can say is, "Wah, Ustad".

Hats off, cop!

What comes to your mind when you hear 'Police', that too 'Indian Police'? A middle aged man in khaki, with a pot belly and a lathi in hand? If you are south Indian, you might visualize a thick black moustache and if you are Maharashtrian, your police might be chewing paan.

Whatever be it, when one thinks of police, one rarely visualizes efficiency, alacrity, co-operation or a friendly face. This site changed my view and it might change yours too. This blog is maintained by the Dakshina Kannada police Superintendent, Dayananda B. The blog has records of the crime rate on a daily basis. One can find a detailed list of the number of crimes, their type and who the victims were. Pretty impressive to see something like this that too from a segment of the government which is known for its corruption and poor quality of work.

Coopersblog is a UK based blog which keeps track of police blogs across the world. This site has praised Dayananda's blog as the best cop blog ever. That is one recognition Mr. Dayananda will be proud of.

Its time people back home took notice of Mr. Dayananda's efforts.

Baby, it's a dog's world

Living in one of the posh localities of Bangalore has its own plus points. I get to witness such weird things at times that I start wondering if I am on a different planet altogether.

Rich people have their own priorities and they nowhere match mine (No, I am not rich). A typical rich woman will look like this: weird clothes, streaked hair, some garish colored lipstick, wrinkles all over and the nose so high up in the air that it almost chokes on ozone and the most important accessory - a puppy. The uglier it looks, the better. Even the puppy may have lipstick on it sometimes -- that comes from all the mushy kisses it gets from its owner. So, she will walk down the road, with this haughty look, her purse in one hand and the puppy in the other. Just a few steps behind her, you will see lady who no doubt is her helper/maid/servant and she is carrying a kid. The kid doesn't really belong there, because it's very obvious the baby is not the helper's but the owner's! Let me get this straight - you need a helper to carry your baby around, but you can carry that stinking puppy all around? You don't care if the baby is hungry, but the moment your poodle barks you are ready with a feeding bottle?

I know what the baby must be thinking: "Baby, it's a dog's world. I wish I was a dog."

Murphy at his best

Having spent three wonderful days lazing around in an awesome place, sitting here in the office and actually working sounds like a death sentence. One can't do much about it and hence I am trying to console myself by doing something fun - blogging.

Kodaikanal is a great place to chill out - literally! The place is unique in its own way - it has a perfect balance of commercialization and isolation. A tourist who wants to be treated like God - travel agents running around him, shopkeepers trying to lure him and 5 star hotels making him feel like God-- can be contented with what Kodai offers. On the other hand, a tourist who wants to be left alone, far away from the mad crowd, to be one with the nature and its serenity will find Kodai as the place to be in. Quite contrasting, yet true. The lake which is in the heart of the city is the perfect example. One can sit on the lake side with a book in hand and listening to the soft music played by the lake water and still can see the real world on the other side of the lake - crowded shops, buzzing people and the luring shopkeepers and be happy that one is not part of that mad world.

This was one memorable vacation. Murphy was at his best - everything that could go wrong, went wrong. Even then, this trip is close to my heart.

To go or not to go

Just when I was thinking of the lush green views and the peaceful hours and the break that I was going to have from the routine life, I am down with fever. I was all fine until a few days back and suddenly--bang! "Hi there, we are your new neighbors - fever, cold and cough. Hope you enjoy our company." The only question that comes to my mind is, "Why? Why me?" (Well, those are actually two questions.)

To go or not to go is the question. Should I risk my health and go ahead and take the much needed break (even if that means sitting within four walls of a posh hotel on a beautiful hill station)? Should I think of all the sufferings that I would have to go through after coming back and just stay at home and take rest?

After giving it some thought (a lot, actually), I have decided not to be a chicken! Instead, I will ram like a bull and take the risk as it comes. Misty mountains, here I come.

About Me

As I begin my journey in the blogger world, let me attempt to make a few things clear.

What is Soul Kadhi?
For starters, it's the title of my blog.
It's a dish made in the coastal areas of Karnataka (and Maharashtra, I think.) It's made of Amsol (or kokum) which has a sour tangy taste like tamarind. It's usually eaten with rice. I am waiting for the day when I get to taste this dish.

Why Soul Kadhi?
Because I do some soul searching and some sole talking. Actually, there is no reason why I chose that name. I just closed my eyes and thought of a title for my blog and this name popped up. I didn't want to upset the name, I decided to keep it.

Who are you?
Anamika. Anonymous. Nameless.

Why do you want to be anonymous?
Why do you need a name for all the words that you read here? You are going to read the same words whether my name is Anamika or Madonna. (Actually, the latter may get more hits to my blog). So, does it matter what my name is?

What is this blog about?
Good question. Next question please...

No, serisouly. What is this blog about?
Well, this blog is the visible form of my thoughts, my opinions, my feelings... my life.

Why should I read this blog?
You don't have to. I write for myself. You are free to read it, if you want to. Comment, complain, praise, accuse, throw a tantrum about things that I write here. I may choose to ignore them. Ha!

If you are writing for yourself, why not keep a diary?
Good point. I do keep a diary. The reason why I am putting it out for the whole world to see is that some soul might connect with what I am saying and might resonate. To evoke emotions, reactions, thoughts in people who care to read what's written here.

Ok, enough questions, take me to the blog.
Right. http://soulkadhi.blogspot.com