No, I have not been so busy. I was bored, I was frustrated, I was unhappy....

Well, times have changed :-). I am not bored, not frustrated, not unhappy anymore - and for the following reasons (necessarily in that order):

1. Got a job.

After nearly 8 months of being unemployed, I have begun working again. More than anything else, its is important for me to be surrounded by people. I cannot work/learn anything if I am alone.
I even received my first pay cheque in my new job. Feels good, if not anything more.

2. Looking forward to go home in december

Yes, finally, hopefully I will go home to my mom and dad and to Pradeep and Vini. I am coming home Ma. Don't ever let go of me.

3. Travelling to work by local train

Thats what I enjoy most. Many say I am crazy and I'll get sick of it soon. I hope I never feel that way. Everyday has been a learning experience in the II class ladies compartment. hmm...maybe I should start a new train journey journal. I have so much to say.

Umm...theres more, but I think i'll miss my train ;-)

Be back soon.

Even as Mahesh and I were planning our honeymoon (ok, ok, he did all the planning, hmph!), I was told to look out for Vienna. All my friends, though had never visited the city, had heard a great deal about it from their friends and relatives and wanted me to definitely not miss it. Added to this was our ever-enthusiastic and well learned tour guide Ute. She explained the history of Austria, the complicated rule of the Hapsburgs, their rise and fall, and made our journey to the Austrian capital all the more exiting.

Vienna - capital city of Austria that dominates the economic and cultural life of Austria, is also the home of Sacher torte, Apple strudel and Weiner shnitzel. It is undoubtedly one of the most beautiful cities in the world, followed by Prague and Budapest in my opinion. It is also Austria's most important manufacturing, banking, and insurance center.One of the reason Vienna remains a favourite city is because, Mahesh and I explored the city on our own. We opted out of the guided tour. Armed with brochures, the subway map, and the city map (all these are available in all hotels and tourist information centres, free of charge), we were on our way.

Our first stop was at the Karls Platz or Charles square (Platz = Square), the main city square. The ancient St.Stephens Cathedral stands in the middle of the square, looking magnificient. The area was abuzz with activity. I had never seen so many people at one place in any other place so far in Europe. The road side cafes were full, magazines and souvenier shops making brisk business, visitors to the cathedral, shops displaying painted easter eggs and decorations - Easter was fast approaching. After spending a few euros on some souvenirs(for Mahesh), and yummy chocolate cake (for me), we left this place.

Our next stop was at the Maria Theresia square, the art centre of Vienna. On either side of the square are museums. The ones of interest are the Natural History museum and the Modern art gallery. We spent considerable time in these museums, marvelling the architecture of the place, along with the exhibits. The winter palace of the Hapsburgs who reigned over Austria, Hungary, and most of Europe, is also in the vicinity.

A rather long and enjoyable tram ride took us to Prater, a more modern part of the town. The Giant Ferris Wheel, at this Prater fairground, is one of the famous landmarks of Vienna. The entire area is as colourful as a fun fair can get. This huge wheel standing at 65m, offers a breathtaking view of the city. This wheel was built by Walter Basset in 1896/97, destroyed by bombs during the second world war, and reconstructed in 1947. We had to take a ride on this.

After seeing Vienna from the skies, we headed towards the famous Schonbrunn palace, the summer residence of the Hapsburgs. The palace is the most significant cultural monuments of Austria. Emperor Franz Josef I, is said to have spent the last years of his life here. After his death, the palace became the property of the new republic(in 1918). Today, the palace is a centre of culture and art, with museums and concert halls within and surrounding the Schonbrunn area.

A trip to this art city simply would not be complete without attending a concert. In the evening we attended a wonderful concert by a group of young music students along with some of our other group members. We were treated to a beautiful rendition of Franz Schubert's first symphony and his famous string quartets. All in all, we had a great evening.
(Here is where I tasted my first champagne. "Take half orange, half champagne. Its really good.", advised Melva, the grandmommy of our group. I must say I enjoyed the drink, but give me just fresh orange juice anyday!)

Just one day in a city like this is not enough at all. We were unable to explore the modern part of the town. Hopefully, we will get a chance to go back there someday. We will go, won't we darling? Next time, I will help planning. Promise.

I cry a lot. I cry if I am happy, sad, angry...anything. It must be very frustrating for those who have to deal with me.

I have always wondered why. Many times I tell myself to be strong and just hold back the tears, but it has never happened. Ganga, Jamuna, Danube or Rhine if you care, are just waiting to plunge out of my eyes.

I wanted to find out why I cry so much. So I decided to do some research.

Cry :

1. A sobbing vocal exhalation, ranging from soft-to-loud, given as a visceral response to grief, happiness, sadness, or pain.

2. An involuntary tightening of the voice box (or larynx) and pharyngeal muscles, usually accompanied by a quivering chin, depressed lip corners, puckered brows, flared nostrils, tearing eyes, facial flushing, shoulder-shrugs, and forward bowing motions of the head and torso.

Sadness, followed by anger, sympathy and fear are most of the reasons adults cry. According to a study by University of Minnesota biochemist, William Frey, emotional tears contains the neurotransmitters leucine-enkephalin (an endorphin or natural opiate-like substance for pain relief) and prolactin (released from the pituitary in response to emotional stress. These substances were not found in tears shed in response to sliced onions. It is also believed that tears help body relieve of stress, just like, sweat, urine or exhaled air.

But I was hardly like this. As a kid, I was called a Tom boy and fighter among all my peers. Thats one reason why I didn't have many friends. As all kids of my age, I had my imaginary friends and I was happy playing with them :-). It didn't matter to me that I was friendless. I was in a world of my own. As I grew up, I became more and more possessive. Maybe thats why people run away from me and thats also one of the reasons I don't get very close to people. I think I remember when I became a cry baby though. It was about two years ago, around the same time that I went into some kind of a depression. I was inefficient at work and I was even hinted that I might have to leave the company if I didn't improve. I used to cry all day long. Nothing interested me - food, movies, TV, nothing at all. Anyway, thats past now and I am happy its all over.

However, the crying habit has stayed. I simply cannot bear it if anyone says a harsh word to me. It hurts me a lot. I cannot answer back, because there is already a big lump in my throat. I open my mouth, I begin crying. I have noticed that my average crying spell is about 4 to 5 minutes. Crying helps me. All my frustrations flows out along with my tears. My anger is short lived and I don't hold grudge against anybody. I don't remain sad for a long time. In that short span of time, it actually helps me think.

But thats hardly the solution, is it? Isn't there any way I can stop crying? I wonder what would help me stop this. Will I ever be free?

I look out of my window and see lush green trees and bushes looking fresh after a mild shower of rain. Wild flowers are everywhere. Parrots, sparrows and crows are flying busily, going about their business and colourful butterflies are fluttering about. There is a riot of colours. The wind is blowing softly and I can smell the fresh earth. I am filled with happiness looking at all these. But my happiness is only short lived. I am feeling homesick. I want to go back to Bangalore.

But, why does all these have to remind me of Bangalore? I am very stubborn. I refuse to believe that Bombay can also have such a pleasant weather. Bombay can only be extremely hot and humid. All these are mere illusions...just signs indicating that I should go back to Bangalore.

I have lived all my life in Bangalore...until 7 months ago. Then, I was married. Yes, it was exiting to get away from the monotony of one place. But, then I am famous for feeling homesick even if I am only a couple of days outside Bangalore. All my friends/relatives hate me for this.

Bombay is better that Bangalore in more than one way. Public transport is one of the best in the whole of India. Good roads...at least around the place where I stay. South Bombay, the one place I like in Bombay - rich Gothic styled buildings, narrow roads, horse carriages, fountains, rows and rows of black and yellow taxis, theatres, the sea, marine drive, parks, ..it is the one place I love to go. But just that. Its an interesting place to go on a short holiday.

I still want to go back. I don't mind waiting hours for the bus, I don't mind the pot-holed roads, I don't mind the pollution( like as though this place has any less pollution), I don't mind the traffic jams.
I want to be a part of all the festivities and celebrations and family get-togethers, laugh and fool around with all my cousins and friends, pulling each others legs. The Irony is that I used to hate all this when I was there and wanted to get away! I want to stay with my in-laws and get to know them well. I just want to be back at home.

Oh! Why can't I just forget all that and learn to live here like a good girl?

As I write this, I can hear a little voice inside me saying, " one day...one day you will go back. everything will work out like you want it to...just a little patience and tolerance is all you need..."

I feel much better.

For now, home is definitely not where my heart is. :'(

At the stroke of midnight, 14th august 1947, tens of thousands of people celebrated all over the nation, only minutes after the country's first prime minister Jawaharlal Nehru delivered his famous speech "At the stroke of midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India will wake up to life and freedom,..." .

Just a few hours earlier on the morning of 14th august 1947, the first ceremony to mark the transfer of powers took place in Karachi between Mohammed Ali Jinnah (who became the governor general of Pakistan at midnight) and British Viceroy Lord Louis Mountbatten (he was to stay as the Governor general of India). Mr. Jinnah assured the world that Pakistan would work to preserve peace...just as Nehru did in India.

Along with all the celebrations, there was also a fears among people that night. Soon there were stories of violence, riots, bloodshed, attack on trains and bloodstained trains arriving with dead bodies. As soon as the new borders were known, millions of Hindus, Muslims and Sikhs fled from their homes on one side of the newly demarcated borders to the other side.

From what I remember from my history text books, the establishment of a seperate muslim state was advocated in the year 1930. But, it was not until 1940, that this theory was adopted by the muslim league. Mohammed Ali Jinnah, the leader of the muslim league called for a separate muslim state fearing that the country's Hindu Majority would subjugate the Muslim minority of the country. A plan was put forward by the British government for Hindus and Muslims to work together. But it did not succeed.

Finally, in the year 1947, Lord Mountbatten proposed his two-nation plan to Nehru and Jinnah and this was accepted by both the parties. By the midnight of 14th august 1947, the states of punjab and Bengal were partitioned in such a way as to leave a majority of muslims to the west of new punjab (now Pakistan) and to the east of new Bengal (now Bangladesh).
The word 'pakistan' is said to have been coined from the names of those regions that make up this nation - Punjab, Afgan border states, Kashmir, Sind and Baluchistan.

Kashmir was free to accede to either India or Pakistan. The then Maharajah of the muslim-majority Kashmir, initially wanted to remain independent. But, when a Pathan tribal force entered Kashmir illegally with Pakistani backing, the Mararajah decided to accede to India.

East Pakistan broke away and proclaimed sovereignty of the Republic of Bangladesh in 1971.

55 years and two wars later, the issue of Kashmir remains unresolved - one of the many results of partition that has left many families divided, millions injured and dead.
Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee on his Independence day speech said "...Kashmir is not a piece of of land, it is a test case for Sarva Dharma Sambhava(unity of religions). India has always stood the test of a secular nation. J&K is a living example of this. And this itself is Kashmiriyat...". Bah!

This one landed in my mail box claiming to be the shortest story. Just 55 words.

"Careful, honey, it's loaded," he said, re-entering the bedroom.

Her back rested against the headboard. "This is for your wife?"

"No. Too chancy. I'm hiring a professional."

"How about me?"

He smirked. "Cute. But who'd be dumb enough to hire a lady hit man?"

She wet her lips, sighting along the barrel.

"Your wife."

I did my first long distance journey by local train alone yesterday. Nerul to Malad. Three trains to change. It was raining the whole day and I seemed to enjoy every bit of it.

A large group of women from Kerala boarded the train. Each of them had huge suitcases and bags with them. (I still wonder how they managed to put all that luggage inside an already over-crowded second class ladies compartment in less than 15 seconds!!) They had piled all their luggage at the doorway and were a big nuisance to all others who were boarding or alighting the train. In all that confusion, a young mother got off the train and her little girl was still in the train, stuck between all those bags when the train started moving. The girl started crying and nobody knew what to do. One elderly lady offered to get off at the next station and take the girl back to her mother. I do hope the mother and daughter were re-united. A big fight followed and one of the passengers was so angry that she almost threw one of their bags out of the train. What is surprising is that the same lady softened after sometime and helped them to put some of their bags on the luggage rack, pushed some suitcases under the seats and made some place for people to stand comfortably!

By then, two hijras (eunuchs) got into the ladies compartment and stood next to me. They were dressed in garish pink and yellow sarees with cheap jewellery to go with it. It may not be anything new to mumbaiites, but here, the eunuchs were new to bombay. They were looking out of the train and were fascinated by everything they saw..huge buildings, slums, drains, the sea, the fight in the train...just about everything. They looked very exited and were greedily absorbing every bit of what they were seeing. The train slowed down a little and we saw that the tracks were submerged in water because of the heavy rains. We could see knee deep water on the adjacent road and children enjoying themselves in the rain. Water was overflowing from the drains and the stench was unbearable. One of the Hijras looked at me and asked,

"इतना पानी !! किधर जाता है ये सब?"
("So much water! Where does all this water go?")

"गटर में...और कहां ?"
("Into the drain, where else?")

"ओ..."
("ohh...")

After sometime, suddenly, "गटर भर गया तो ?"
('What if the drains gets filled?")

I just smiled and they smiled back. Just as I was about to get off at my stop, she asked me, "ये train वी.टी. जाती है ना?"
("This train will go to V.T. (Victoria Terminus), won't it?")

I nodded and as I was getting off she said, "तुम बहुत अच्ची हो ...जियो"
("You are very good. Live a good life"( or something like that)).

I didn't have a chance to turn around and acknowledge that.

Something else happened on the train on my way back home. So sad..so grotty...I can never forget it. The incident makes me sick and sad at the same time. I can never bring myself to say it out. Atleast not when its still so fresh in my mind. Maybe some day I will write about it...as soon as I can get it out of me. sigh!

"I am going to sing a hindi song on stage."

"WHAT?!? You must be joking. Are you really going to sing a hindi song?

"Yes. Will you be there when I sing?"

"Of course."

He did. He sang "Humein Tumse Pyaar Kitna...", the popular number by Kishore Kumar and dedicated it to me!
There were more than 400 people in the hall. After he announced and began to sing, my friends, soon recovered from the initial shock, and teased the hell out of me in the next three minutes that followed. Lecturers who knew me gave an understanding smile. All eyes were on me. Others who didn't know me were trying to find out who I was. Everyone said I was blushing. I must have been and I don't deny it. I can never forget that day.

Six long years have passed since this happened, but it only feels like it was yesterday that Mahesh and I were in college, very much in love with each other. Mahesh had been finding it difficult to learn hindi and was trying hard to get his language option changed. I was very surprised at first and amused later when he told me he was going to sing a hindi song. I knew he had been listening to hindi songs lately and particularly songs by Kishore Kumar. He didn't tell me which song he was going to sing. I thought he was going to give up after trying to practise for a few days. He didn't. Thats him - doesn't give up too easily on anything.

Today, he is knows enough hindi to make his own hindi keyboard and write his journal entries in hindi.

Mahesh, darling I love you.

Incidentally, on the day he sang for me in hindi, he also sang a Tamil song and dedicated it to Ash! Unfortunately, she was not around.

The following year, both of us went up on stage and sang a hindi duet. That, of course, is a different story all together...

[Mahesh, beware of the consequences if you ever happen to mention anything about it to anybody]

Narthaki is a Bharatanatyam dancer. She was born to dance. As of today, she has given more than 1000 performances and has been honoured with various awards including the Nayaki Bhava Ratnam, Natya Priya, Natya Gnana Varidhi, Natya kala Ratna and many more.

Narthaki is a Hermaphrodite.

"My birth certificate denotes my sex as male, though all my life I have considered myself as female. I was born with underdeveloped male sex organs. I did not have female sexual organs, but at the age of 15, I began to develop a bustline". says Narthaki.

Her family, friends and society ill treated her. Her brother drove her out of the house when she was just 16. He could not bear the humiliation the family had to face because of her. Narthaki, along with her friend Shakti (also a hermaphrodite), left home. Both of them were fond of dancing. After much struggle, they found a guru in Kittapa Pillai (the dance teacher of many famous dancers)who would train them to be Bharatanatyam dancers. Narthaki worked hard. With dedication and discipline, she mastered the art of Bharatanatyam.

Today, she is a Bharatanatyam dancer, a woman, who like many others has struggled to be where she is today. She has gained back the respect of her family, friends and soceity.

But, it is not always the same case. On the bottom rung of the social ladder, transvestites or Hijras(hermaphrodites), scrape out a hard existance. Hijra means a Hermaphrodite in Urdu, but most hijras are homosexual transvestites. They earn thier living as beggars, dancers and prostitutes. The hijras are both feared and pitied, feared for their supposed abilities to place curses and pitied for being the outcast children of God. Most of them leave families around puberty and join the Hijra community for life. Some of them go through crude sex change operation and earn a living as prostitues. Some others earn their living by begging and by dancing at carnivals and wedding ceremonies. Sometimes they are even paid to give their blessings to a new born child.

It just made me think of what I would do if I bear a child like that. I don't want a child like that. The very thought gives me jitters. But then again, what would I do if I were to face such circumstances? I still have to find my answers.

This is what Narthaki has to say - "When parents find their male child exhibit feminine characteristics or vice-versa, do not force them to become what you want them to become. Get to the root of the problem. Try to understand them. Do not make them live a lie for the sake of the society. When they reach a point where they feel they cannot live those lies anymore, they run away and join millions of other eunuchs or enter prostitution. If you give them a chance to live, encourage their talents, they will achieve something in their lives."

Hmm...thats something we all have to learn.

[her·maph·ro·dite: Person or an Animal that has both male and femal sexual organs or characteristics.
trans·ves·tite: A person who dresses and acts in a style or manner traditionally associated with the opposite sex.]

I recently found a library close to my home and the very first book I borrowed was The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy.

She won the Booker Prize for this piece in the year 1997. I finished reading this within a day and I found that I liked it a lot. I liked the way she writes. There are controversies that Ms. Roy copies Salman Rushdie's style of writing. I cannot comment on that because I have never read any of Mr. Rushdie's works.

The God of Small Things is a rich fairy tale of a novel that covers the lives of a pair of twins who experience loss at an early age, and find redemption as adults. The storytelling is excellent. The prose is fun to read; it deals with the darkest of content, mixed with light humor.

The story begins in June, when the monsoon rains sends the Province of Kerala, into a fertile frenzy. "The countryside turns an immodest green...Pepper vines snake up electric poles. Wild creepers burst through laterite banks and spill across the flooded roads..."

Behind this lush life, however, something rots. Rahel Kochamma, one of the novel's twin protagonists, returns to her family home in Ayemenem(this is the same town where Arundhati Roy spent her childhood with her mother), a small town in Kerala and decay slithers out to greet her. The house walls "bulged a little with dampness that seeped up from the ground. The wild, overgrown garden was full of the whisper and scurry of small lives. In the undergrowth a rat snake rubbed itself against glistening stone..."

The story itself is not in a traditional narrative order; one scene may be from their childhood, the next as adults. The story jumps through time, making its way through Rahel's memories and attempts at understanding how fate dealt her family.

The past, specifically a chain of events set in motion on *a skyblue day in December sixty-nine (the nineteen silent)...* when the twins' half-English cousin, Sophie, came to visit them. Two weeks later Sophie was dead, drowned in Ayemenem's river, leaving behind a shattered family and a terrible secret. The narrative eddies along toward the secret of Sophie's death, but ultimately it flows into the drowning depths of history.

The book made a wonderful reading experience. It is a story of forbidden, cross-caste love and what a community will do to protect the old ways.

Its about time I started blogging. I created a live journal account nearly two years ago, but never got to updating it. Reason? Simple enough. I thought I could not write and express my concerns and opinions clearly (not that I am highly opinionated or anything. I normally accept things the way they are). I used to read the journals of Mahesh, Radhika, and many others, and I thought I could never write like any of them. They all write so beautifully. Surely, it was not a thing for me. No way! I was never going to write. I have even tried maintaining paper diaries a couple of times, but have always ended up tearing those pages soon after. I hated to read what I wrote.

All thanks to Mahesh that I am here today. He encouraged me to write, offered to design my homepage and even hosted it on his website. I have no idea how often I am going to update this journal. I don't even know what the general theme is going to be. But, I know for sure that I don't want to write usual things like what I cooked for lunch today and how the prices of vegetables are soaring. Maybe if I have an interesting recipe, I will post it here. :)

Why down TO earth?

If I didn't have any idea or theme in mind, why did I decide to call my journal down TO earth?

This journal has nothing to do with any environmental issues. down To earth because I think thats what describes me best.

Earthly, realistic and simply down to earth.

I like simplicity. I don't appreciate dramaqueens and they don't appreciate me.I respect people with plans. When someone has their head on their shoulders, I know that they can see straightforward and keep their eyes on the mark.

I can go on...but I'll stop. I am very down TO earth, you see. :-)