A cursory glance on facebook and it’s easy to delve in the wave of wedding updates. The delirious setting gets still creepier when the question gets popped out to you of unassuming corners. At office cubicle, over a cafeteria conversation or an impromptu conversation, there is always someone who wishes to inquire ‘when’ as if the gyrations of the planet depend on a matrimonial.
And I feel great 
Not worried about the 30s looming ahead, I’ve no clue why. I’ve heard just too many of my friends worrying about being close to turning 30. Just finished chatting with a cousin, who said she’s terrified she’ll be 30 in two years 
Well, so will I; but I’m not bothered. No worries at all, about having turned a year older. In fact, I don’t even feel 28. I still feel 22. That’s when I first got out of the comfort of home and hometown, and stepped into a new city for good, and joined a college for my post graduation course. Ever since, it’s been a string of “new”s…be it cities, companies, job roles, people, situations. So, every new thing that comes along, makes me feel what I felt when I was 22. I’m stuck there, and I like it
So, on to the birthday news…
I got wished close to 18 hours in advance by Hobbes. For some reason I just don’t understand, he seems to think I have a special kind of birthday that extends from start of 1st Nov to end of 2nd Nov. Interesting. Anyways, when I laughed at him for doing this every year (well, last year he was in the U.S., and he said it was because of all the timezone disorientation 
), he said he was in Goa, and time zones work differently there because of all the alcohol in the Goan air. And also, that he just wanted to be the first one to wish me, that’s all. Veenidathu kidannurundu, athra thanne.
I was wished at midnight by the husband, and given a massive, pretty cake with icing in the most awesome colours I’d have liked to just freeze that cake and keep if forever. I had already tucked myself in to bed, and the first thing i managed to say (signature style) is “Gosh, you shouldn’t have! This is where you went off, in the name of a haircut!?”. Then I dragged myself out, took a couple of pictures, promptly blew the candles off, cut a tiny piece, helped myself to it, gave a bit to him, thanked him, and jumped back in under the covers.
The Queen of Subtlety, when I texted her last night saying I’d be working from home today (for obvious reasons, birthday and work), threw a fit saying I was lying, that she knows I just want to avoid office on the second of November. Well, we all avoid office on our birthdays, she also did. So I was a little baffled by all the accusations. Anyways, after that she sneered at me with a “you wont be awake at 12, I presume”, to which I let out a deep, long sigh and quietly said “lol, yes I will. pls call (to wish)”. I was falling off my chair by 11 itself, but I thought I should stay up and wait for Her Majesty’s call.12 came and went. 12.01 came and went. 12.05 came and went. 12.10 came and went. 12.15 came and went. Well, you get the drift, right? So, me being me, called HER up. And guess what? She did not pick up So I called again. This time, after the 4th ring-ring, she answered. This conversation followed:
She: Hello…
Me: What behaviour IS this!?
She: Ehe ehe…I am so sorry, I slept off. Happy birthdayyyy.
Me: Yeah, I thought so! After making me stay up, you useless [in my mind I added 'piece of shit']
She: You won’t believe it…I stayed on till 11.45, telling myself it’s just 15 more mins…and next thing i know, there’s drool and my phone is ringing…ehe ehe
Me: Yeah, I figured!
She: But I still love you.
Me: I’m supposed to be telling YOU that!
She: Ooops.
Me: So much for being surprise queen, you bloody…I’ve never been THIS surprised before. I’ve got to be the first one to call someone to make them wish me! Pffft.
She: See, this is what happens when you don’t like surprises…this was all planned, this was my surprise for you.
Me: Realllly?
She: Damn, I should’ve said this earlier. AND. This does NOT go out to the public.
Me: I can’t wait to call the other two and tell them this.
She: Fiiiiineah! Be that way! [it is at this point that she sounded like herself; till then, there was a thick coating of embarrassment blanketing her voice, making her sound like a tiny little butterfly crushed under the weight of 3 quilts and 4 pillows!]
The in-laws called in the morning and wished me. Soon after, I called my mom to remind her it’s my birthday. Guess i know her just too well, she’d completely forgotten. Again, “What behaviour is this!? I have just one birthday every year, and you forget that!?” And then comes an apology, a round of laughter and the “Happy birthday” Oh, this happens most times, and I make it a point to remind people to wish me Then i teased them all for forgetting Pumbaa’s birthday, and now mine too. Anyway, that shows that we’re both treated equally in the house Which is a good thing. Comparing me to him is always a flattery. Like how she once saw a picture of mine and said “Pretty. Almost as good-looking as Pumbaa. Almost.”
Then came the gifts! Two pairs of shoes, hand painted by a sweet friend. One featuring my favouritest being on earth, Pumbaa, and the other featuring my favouritest being-I-wish-existed, Calvin & Hobbes. I guess the husband wasn’t sure which one of these I love more, and decided to go ahead with both. of the two pairs, I must admit I love the one with Pumbaa more Thanks tonnes, Biji Let me endorse Hue Fetish here! And, after a full ten minutes of receiving and jumping up and down at the joy of having those shoes, he asked me if it occurred to me to thank him at all Which I then did like a meek child. Ahem.
Ok, that’s all for now. I just HAD to write down the spectacle that The Queen of Subtlety is, before I would forget that brilliant midnight conversation 
but I did not want to dedicate another entire post on her, or she’ll start thinking too highly of herself
Thank you, everyone, for the wishes. The ones that were never expected, turned out to be extra sweet. And, thank God for the Internet and webcams
And while we are at it, Happy Birthday, Shah Rukh Khan
Now, I really have to get back to work :-/
…don’t really get along too well.
I don’t like talking on the phone much…and if you have a problem with that, I’m sorry I can’t help you. Well, perhaps I can (by attending your call), but I don’t plan to I guess I owe many people this explanation (though very few of these people read this blog ; the other option is to text them all. And they may call back. Uh oh…)
I really am not avoiding you, okay? I’m just avoiding your call. Ouch — no, I’m just avoiding having to talk on the phone. Leave me a text message, leave me an offline chat, leave me a mail. I’ll respond, almost instantly, unless i’m sleeping, or unless the phone is like hidden under the cushion, pushed int here by the naughty lil’ Pumbaa. But if I see an SMS, I WILL respond; I cannot guarantee that about a missed call you leave me I just don’t like the mobile phone much.
Not that I hate it or don’t use it. Just that I don’t use it for what it is meant. A mobile phone, for me, is essentially just a replacement for Gmail chat I am a person of few words…I talk very little even face-to-face and I generally prefer “talking” to someone through “chat”or “sms”. And on chat/sms, I can go on for hours together
You wont believe it, but I ALWAYS rely on a text message to communicate with someone, before having to actually call that person up. Including emergency situations like being on a busy highway, at the signal, and wondering if we must turn left or right to reach that person’s house And when I’m blasted for being so dumb, I dial the number, press “Call” and instantly stick the phone to Suraj’s ear (or whoever else is driving)!
There is just ONE person (yes, person) with whom I can actually talk non-stop, for hours. And that is Pumbaa Well, he can’t talk back, and one of us has to do that. So, I happily do it
There are very few people with whom I can talk non-stop, for hours, on the phone. One of them is Amma. The other is my brother. Then there are a couple of close friends. Recently, after a rather long conversation (if I may call it that), Hobbes asked me if I were “the same girl who hates talking on the phone?” Well, that did leave me mumbling for a bit.
And I can’t tell you just how many times I’ve got into trouble with Suraj for never picking up his calls. Well, how will I know he’s calling when the phone is (eternally) on silent mode? [Who puts it on silent mode? Uh...I do.] Even before getting married, this was a constant problem. I guess it was the ONLY reason for our quarrels. He would call, I wouldn’t pick up. He’d call 10 more times. Then he would try my mom’s number, but I’d be at the aunt’s place. Then he’d call the aunt’s number — but by then, I’d have run back home (having realised that the phone has been abandoned somewhere, undoubtedly on silent mode, and that Suraj would be trying to get through to me). Finally, he would get through to me and blast me. I would silently hear him out, ask him if he’s done, and then hang up and go my way.
Except with Amma and my brother, I think I switch to listening-mode with most others And happily too. I’m better at listening than talking. Some people make it tough, because most of the ones who matter knows me well enough to continue doing the talking without much expectations Unless I’m completely comfortable with the person on the other side, even being on listening-mode is a pain. So, avoiding calls is the easiest thing to do.
I really don’t know why I talk so little — in general, and on the phone. There is one friend who calls me a chatterbox (really!), but well, I admit that I talk a LOT to him; well, I used to. To others, I think it is mainly because I keep thinking whatever I have to say or talk about will not be of much interest to the listener. Seriously I don’t know why I think so, but I do. I don’t say a lot of things, thinking it won’t be of any interest to that person, only to listen to something very similar coming from the other end And well, by then, whatever I could have said would have become stale Well, I get into one of my PJ moods when some of my brother’s friends call…and I go on yap yapping for hours, till they hang up on me, threatening to kill me next time they see me.
So, basically, for me, a mobile phone is essentially just a replacement for Gmail chat And Winamp! I use it to text, and I use it to listen to my favourite music tracks. That is about it.
My first one was a Sony Ericsson w810i. I bought it because it came with the cutest, tiniest pair of external speakers (which incidentally wasn’t working, and I still have not used!). I loaded all my music into it, and was always plugged to my phone through earphones. An incoming call in the middle of a favourite song would piss me off — and I’d just disconnect the call! Yes, I used to be that bad. I was sooooo attached to that phone that despite being gifted a 160GB iPod, I refused to part with the walkman phone. I did not use the iPod for almost a year! I used this for over 4 years (it looks MIGHTY sad now, considering the number of times it has gone bouncing down the stairs, into rain puddles, on to the road, blah blah!) It served me verrrrry well, though
Finally, Suraj convinced me that I baaadly needed a new phone I refused to exchange my w810. I would always want it, I said.
I bought the Sony Ericsson Xperia w8. Again, for the music. I HATED the fact that it was touchscreen! Texting someone became an ordeal. I actually began calling people! Bah. And then I got used to the touchpad, and now my phone is back to being a walkman, and a Gmail chat alternative And I like the fact that I can access Gmail chat also on it That’s about the ONLY reason I appreciate a smart phone now. It is quite smart Well, the w810i was smart too, but I wasn’t smart enough those days 
Poor thing, Suraj. New phone and all that, but it too has the silent mode thingy in-built! Oh well, I’m still the same, I guess. I still do not pick up calls Living in the same house makes it a little easier for him, I suppose. [And it does not help that he calls to remind me to do the many chores he assigns to me every morning, which I promptly forget 
Listen, if I forget it, perhaps I really do not want to do those ]
I still remember, how when we went to Coorg over a year back, there was no mobile connectivity at the homestay we stayed at. Was I thrilled! It was a real stress buster. No one called, no one texted, no one could contact me at all. Absolute “Yay” it was!! (Not that I’m always getting calls/text messages, but still) I was at peace, while Suraj freaked out.
So why am I blabbering about all this now? Because recently, a couple of old college friends ganged up against me (okay, I’m exaggerating, but it was akin to ganging up alright. Bah!) for not keeping in touch. Well, I’m ALWAYS online — and none of you are! If you’re all always available on phone, why not give me a call? Er er…I mean, send me an sms Anyway, after explaining myself and brilliantly emerging as the innocent angel that I am, I’ve decided to give the single “ring-ring”s in loving remembrance henceforth
However, all said and done, I have to say: the mobile phone and me…don’t really get along too well. And I might even forget about the ring-ring agreement after a while. You are always in my mind, just believe that Was I any different at all when we met last weekend?
Edited to add: Yay!! I’m not alone. She may be my soul sister I could easily have written this post!!
My blog is recovering from 50,036 hits since 13 June 2008! Bah, folks. So you go ahead and see the “since 13 June 2008!” part? Now whose fault is that? Yours! If you all had kept crazily clicking on my blog every other day, I’d have reached this milestone a loooong time back Oh, so I have to write as frequently as well? Hmmm…whatever.
Well, honestly, it does not matter to me. And I noticed it only because a friend pointed it out (snickering, saying “valla vidhavum athrem oppicheduthu” — literally translates to “finally you managed to reach that much”). Yes, such friends I have. Sigh.
So well, I’ve seen people posting such milestones. And for want of anything else to write about, here it is.
Yay!
The officer at the Driving License counter asked the lady “What is your occupation?” The woman seeking renewal of her license seemed to be puzzled. So the officer said “Ma’am, are you employed, have your own business or…….. The woman replied “Oh, yes!! I have a full time occupation. I am a mother.”
Officer: “We don’t have ‘mother’ as an option for occupation. I will write it down as ‘Housewife’. That takes care of all questions.”
This had happened long ago, and was forgotten. Years later when I went to get my license, the Public Relations Officer was a somewhat pompous woman. “Your occupation?” she asked in a rather authoritative tone.
I just had an inspiration and replied “I am a researcher in the field of Child Development, Nutrition and Inter-personal Relationships.” The lady officer stared at me in amazement. I calmly repeated my statement and she wrote it down verbatim. Then, unable to conceal her curiosity, she politely asked “What exactly do you do in your profession, Ma’am?”
I was feeling good about having described my occupation so calmly and confidently. So I replied “My research projects have been going on for a number of years (mothers never retire!!). My research is conducted in the laboratory as well as in the field. I have two bosses. (One is God and the other is my entire family). I have received two honours in this field (a son and a daughter). My topic is considered to be the most difficult part of sociology (all moms will agree!!). I have to work more than 14 hours every day. Sometimes even 24 hours are not enough and the challenges are tougher than many other professions. My compensation is in terms of mental satisfaction rather than money.”
I could see that the officer was thoroughly impressed. After completing the licensing formalities, she came to the door to see me off. This new viewpoint about my occupation made me feel much better on my way back home. I was welcomed by my 5 year old research assistant at the door. My new project (my 6 month old baby) was energetically practicing her ‘music’.
I had earned a small victory over the Governmental red tape today. I was no longer ‘merely a mother’, instead I was now a highly placed functionary in a service vital for mankind – Motherhood!!
‘Mother’ – Isn’t it a great title?
P.S.: Thanks for this forward, UmaS I felt this was too fabulous to not share! Please, share this as much as you can, as widely as you can. No one will book you for plagiarism
And to the “mother” who said all this: you are fabulous!
Disclaimer: I drafted this post a day after I published the previous one — but well, all the pics were in my brother’s camera and he left the transfer cord at his friend’s place in Kochi. I waited and waited for two weeks before I got it couriered by him. So, here the post is with the pictures…
After many things ancient in Goa—Fort Aguada and Old Goa on Day 2 @ Goa—we had decided to keep aside Day 3 @ Goa for the modern And on top of the list for the day was parasailing!
A few weeks prior to the vacation—after making the list I forgot to take along—I happened to read a blog called Passion For Road Trips. The author, Subu (who i recently discovered is a much-admired and much-respected friend of my friend!! — small world, huh!?), had been on a recent trip to Goa and had a fab travellogue put up on his blog. From my research for the list, and reading through this blog, I had made up my mind to go for parasailing, scooterboat ride and something called a banana ride.
But after spending all that time at the Colva Beach on Day 1 @ Goa, I had decided that the scooterboat ride was too bumpy for my already bummed spine; and that the banana ride was not all that interesting—except that at one point of time, you’ll be toppled over into the sea and then have to climb back on to the banana-shaped floater which is pulled into the sea and back to the beach by another boat.
But parasailing…it looked awesome, exciting and was sure set the adrenaline soaring. The day we went to Colva Beach, we were approached by guides who offered to take us parasailing for Rs 800 per couple. We bargained, saying it wouldn’t be more than Rs 150 
Finally, they brought it down to Rs 500 per couple, but we still did not give in: the main reason being that I’d come to the beach in a skirt
Anyways, 31 December in Goa—for that matter, at any place—is a costly affair…and parasailing was no different Once again, we were at Colva Beach, bargaining with guides who refused to reduce it even by a penny beyond Rs 800. The final one who came to us quoted Rs 800 as well…and to him I said in a voice filled with despair and disappointment “it was 600 when we came yesterday…this is unfair”, blah blah. When he saw me sulking, he relented and agreed for Rs 600. I was then chided for having blurted out 600 instead of 500 (or even 400!)…but well, I just wanted to parasail, no matter what In fact, I’d still have gone ahead and done it even if they stuck to Rs 800!
So, we finally agreed for Rs 600 and waited in queue to be the next for sail! The rides were coming to an end for the mid-day break and we were the last ones in queue.
As the couple in front was strapped, buckled and then sailed away, a million butterflies came to life in my tummy and I had second thoughts! The parachute went up to such a terrifying height…there was the sea below…and I didn’t even know to swim—as if it would help at all. Was I still sure I wanted to go in? I turned around to look at the husband and ask if we should back out…he wasn’t very interested in it in the first place.
:) Almost about to parasail!
But alas…when I did turn around to ask, there were two guides on both sides, strapping a life jacket and buckling it up, strapping us both together on to another buckle, the other end of which was fastened to the boat—and before I could say “hey”, we were moving! At 12.45 pm, on a sunny scorching New Year’s eve-noon, we were parasailing!
Up above the world so high... -- pic courtesy: my bro
Almost about to land -- pic courtesy: my bro
A parachute -- a pic I took
It was one of the best things I’ve done in life. The take off was as smooth as one could imagine it to be…there was no air rushing up against or out of me…and the feeling of being in flight, like a bird, was spellbinding. I really and honestly CANNOT describe it. To have to do it to know it.
And the sight! Oh my god, the sight from up there cannot be described! Perhaps if I were a poet, I could have done some justice. But well, I honestly think (and I repeat!) if you really want to know, you must try it someday!
As we sailed up, I began howling like how we do on one of those giant wheels at the theme parks. But I stopped it as soon as I started it: because it was so calm, it was soooo calm and smooth, I realised there was no NEED to howl or scream or even break the silence. All we both did then was gush…. “Oh, wow…look how…” “Ah…this is just…” “Awww…how small those people…”
The vast expanse of the sea beneath, the endless blue sky above, and a wonderful, wonderful sight of the shore, with palm trees lining one side and the virgin white beach seeming to be covered with people the size of mere ants!
Oh my god. I’m still getting goose bumps as I write this! The husband, who had to literally be begged to join for the adventure, was the one who perhaps loved it more that I did! He was glad he did it; it was thaaaaat good. (See, this is why you should TRY things out, darling! )
Again, being one of the last ones in queue, we had a pretty much shorter ride than the ones who went before us…we seemed to have gone up and touched back ground in a matter of 30 seconds. But it was worth every penny we spent!
Happy, content and satisfied of having had a wonderful trip so far, we headed back home to change, have lunch and head to Panaji!
I had no clue that an awesome sight awaited me—one that would leave me as breathless as this one did. Day 3 @ Goa had just begun!
Like I wrote here, I had also participated in CB‘s story-finishing contest – Finish it to win it. I finished it to win…these following awards. Well, my story was so lame, but I had fun participating, writing, commenting and then commenting again on the first prize winner’s post
Here’s the link to the first half of the story. And here’s what I wrote, the second half Bear with me (and the story).
And here are what CB gave!!! Yey!
For participating...and writing a story
...and for guessing who wrote which one
IHM and Swaram have tagged me to list at least ten things I ever wanted or did which my gender is not supposed to.
So, here goes !
- I love being the engineer in the house..and dive right in if there’s technical things to be rectified. My bro calls me Benchineer (B.A + Engineer) and the husband calls me Miss Technology
- I’m most comfortable in my jeans n T and sneakers
- I hate pink, lipstick,nail polish and gold!! Hate wearing necklaces, bangles, etc.
- I work, travel alone, have lived alone.
- I love travelling and I do not care if it involves getting dirt splashed on to my white shirt
- Have fought with auto drivers, thretened to report them for asking excess fare. Have made peoplethrow ciggies away, for trying to make me a passive smoker.
- Love my phone, camera and laptop And i prefer figuring it all out myself, han being taught. I’ll walk into any dirt, to get that perfect shot.
- Do not think cooking, cleaning and serving is the way to please anyone in the family/to get a name for myself. In fact, wile i love cooking, I do it ONLY if I have the mood. Else, I make sure the husband offers help/make him help
- Love books more than tailoring, embroidery and crochet (donno any of these) !!!
- I hate gossipping (unless it’s the funny, harmless ones) and wasting time reading Femina, etc.
And of course, I love home shopping, pani puri, cooking, mehendi, lovely kurtis, mangoes, cuddling up, sleeping, bathing It’s a good mix
As for tagging, I hink I’m the last person to put this up Anyone whos reading this, can take it up.
In fact, all of us seem to be the same. It’s all just a good mix. There’s nothing that man must do and women must do. “Can”/”Will” is a different matter.
Till we actually set off for Kochi on Friday evening, I was dreading it’d be called off any minute. The couple from Dufaai Dubai might drop out, the couple from Kochi might want to stay back with the baby, the couple from Bangalore (me n the husband ) might miss our bus and not reach…etc. But we did reach Kochi at 5.30 am on Saturday. And it was raining like the skies had gone crazy! Anyways, the tempo traveller came to pick us up by about 10.30 am, and off we went. The tempo traveller had seats that were swaying like a boat. And a whacko for a driver So, when we started the climb towards Munnar, it was almost a 4D experience Well, we were moving in all 4Directions and even moved from within, by the pathetic PJs of the driver
Of the initial 10 enthusiasts, 2 had dropped off. Well, it was 4 couples plus 2 single guys. So, when one of the guys dropped out, the other declared he’d be too left out So, it was the 8 of us: (pic of us all) And of us 8, five were classmates. So, we were a bit anxious about how the other three would feel. We had back-up plans for everything else, but not if these 3 felt left out But well, it was all like the proverbial eggs of the same basket Probably why, the trip turned out to be as great as it was! Oh my. How much we laughed. All that laughing plus the boat-like motion in the bus finally made us all sick! Well, maybe it was also because of the 60 Ferrero Rocher chocolates that vanished in less than 10 minutes…mainly gobbled down by Gulfu, Jaya and me
We reached Elysium Garden Resort by 3.30 or so, because of the heavy and constant rains. We all trooped into all the 4 rooms and made all of them equally untidy And almost instantly, the cameras were taken out and the posing and clicking began
When I clicked a pic of the three girls, Merlin said “Priya, you don’t even know how to take photos. Give me the camera. I’ll take.” And she clicked this one
Every time we went out on to the balcony to click a group pic, it’d start raining and the winds would drive it in, right into the room. It was like the rain had signed a pact against us…and would make sure we stay indoors all the time Well, we weren’t complaining. It was quality time we spent, getting to know each other, having limitless fun. And, we had packed playing cards and Pictionary and Ludo and all. So, finally, we settled for Pictionary. And my god, the fun we had. There was just so much cheating and screams and finger pointing and red cards and yellow cards and everything! Hehe…here are a few snaps of what the words were…and how they were sketched. (For those who do not know the rules of the game, CLICK HERE! You should play it sometime…if possible, with a big group. It can be the best fun ever! High scope for cheating and calling names )
Well, it was fun! Prashant saying “oh…ithenikkariyaam…Aamayalle? Frog Frog Frog!”; and for “surfing the net:, drawing a cloud to indicate “foam…surf detergent…and surfing…” ; and Leena slyly pushing their token two blocks ahead every chance she gets; and Jaya slowly writing the word itself next to her sketch (but me the dimwit still not getting it right ) We had about 2-3 hours of pure fun!!!
There were times when we all laughed out so loud, it was deafening. Like when Prasanth ordered “naalu chappathiyum oru chakan curryum”; when Jaya kept asking “adimaly ethaaraayo” too many times, that Prasanth finally said “Ho! Enthonnithu. Ethumbo ariyikkam ”; when Ragesh kept making the weirdest statements which we kept connecting with the gay community, like “Da, nee kaalukal ingane veche…njaan kaanichu tharaam” ; when Merlin said, in a most serious tone “…Why do you all keep calling him Rakesh? It’s Ragesh…as in RaGEYsh”; when Leena asked “Pavaroor kalava ethiyo?”; I can’t think of anything I, Gulfu or Suraj said…but am sure there were enough and more Especially from me
And then, after another round of photo shoots and everything, we all went off to sleep. Planned to wake up at 6 the next morn and go for sightseeing. We all slept through right till 8 o clock and woke up to constant rains again. Went back to the fun thing: photo shoots.
Leena had planned to have a black-n-blue and white-n-blue themes and everything….so we got all that done Gulfu, or professional photographer, was driven to madness by me and Jaya, making him click pic after pic of us both, till we finally got a snap we both liked
Gosh! We were having so much fun that we forgot to do the one thing girl-friends supposedly do the most: gossip! So, on the way back, when we stopped for lunch, we had a proper gossiping session as well. It was a laughing riot at the Maria International Hotel, Kothamangalam. But we got bored of it in less than 5 minutes. So we went back to what we were best at: making stupidly funny statements, one after the other.
Like Suraj kept telling me before we left Bangalore, the day we were doing countdowns for and waiting ever so excitedly, just slipped through our laugh riots…and we were back in Cochin before we even realised it But not before we planned out next trip: Malaysia in May 2011. Yes, it’s a doubtful month (one that sounds skeptic), but we WILL go And then, little Ananya would be with us too! Yeyyyy!
We reached the same rainy Kochi that we left behind the previous day, at about 5.00 pm on Sunday; hugged, kissed and separated and went our ways—everyone back to where we belonged. And, on Monday, back to work. I couldn’t stop giggling now and then, even at work, thinking of the many funny incidents. I still am giggling! Next time, we’ll make sure we carry a tape recorder along, so that the funnies can be recorded for later laughs
A few good outcomes:
Between me and Jaya, we know why I say it’s a good outcome Sad though, that it wasn’t accepted Oh that was one true-blue vacation. A real fun ‘meet-up’. The best fun trip ever. I can’t justify the fun with words. The rest of the gang who missed it: you guys missed a lot. And we missed you too!
Mission Malaysia May 2011
Yea. So, the vacation I had was not just about fun and beach and yummmmmy food and unwinding and more beach and everything. It was also lectures on and admonitions for not saving money…and being callously spendthrift
Ok…I must give my poor dear in-laws their due: they were real darlings about it
There. Now, that done, let me tell you, we had long siesta-turned-discussion stretches on how to save money. Hehe. Apparently, all the while, they’d thought I’m careful with that thing. Turned out, money leaves me more quickly than it does the husband
Anyways, after we shot down suggestions of buying a house now, we settled on the topic of cars! All this while, instead of even thinking of buying one, we’d been shamelessly cruising around on the Matiz which the dad-in-law gave us when they moved from Kochi to Chennai for a year and half. That year and half is over, and he’s retiring end of this month. So, the Matiz has been called back for duty at Kochi.
At the cost of gifting us the down-payment for a new one So, we happily said yes to “investing” in a car.
The husband had multiple options in mind. Ford Figo; Hyundai i10 and 20; Chevrolet Beat; Maruthi Swift.
I was hell-bent on a Maruthi Swift. Both set of parents said it looks like a frog. But well, who cares
The dad-in-law suggested the Ford Figo; my dad agreed too. The common hatred of the Swift bound them both closer than fevicol ever could!
The brother said “Never ford or chevvy; high maintenance”.
Finally, the husband and I struck a deal: I get to choose the car; he gets to choose the colour. [Yea. The husband swore never to buy a car unles it's a black one! Sigh! Bowled over my complaints of it getting heated up, saying there's auto climate control these days ; so then the other option was to let me choose the car.] So well, it was decided we’re buying a black swift.
Many test drives, comparisons, features, costs, EMIs, loan providers, opinions, likes and dont-likes, and colour-arguments later, we dumped all these options. There was one more babe in town.
We went. We saw. We fell (in love). With tuscan wine .
And the opinion was unanimous. Only the colour was a problem. But when the wife likes tuscan wine, the husband can’t whine!
She’ll be home in 3 weeks!
The tuscan wine punto.
The Tuscan Wine Fiat Grande Punto Emotion 1.2 (Petrol)
