NRIGirl

Chimney smoke

2012-02-15T23:15:00.002-05:00

Warning: Something fishy about it!

Grandma had a wood burning stove that was built-in on a raised platform in her kitchen . Right on top of it was the chimney. I loved looking at the sun rays that came down just as the smoke rose up; where they met was a work of art, where you could see the particles dance in mid air.

I was convinced these were "molecules" but no one confirmed it. Papa said molecules won't be visible to naked eye. Then what were they? DNA? I guess that's what it was, because sometimes I could see some ladder like structure with a dot in the middle of each square that connects and this whole structure appears to be moving in the air. But nobody else saw it and so I couldn't continue my speculation any further... (At this Israel laughs saying DNA is microscopic, as if I don't know... didn't know it then!)

The chimney would be the highest point in the house back then and I guess even now. So I would run up the stairs to the terrace for a closer look. It was absolutely fun to see the dancing smoke, the mouthwatering aroma of Grandma's cooking and the smell of roasted chillies that would suddenly leave us with a coughing fit and burning eyes.

From the terrace we could see our neighbor's backyard. This neighbor was a shoe maker or butcher I couldn't possibly tell, but we got a glimpse of the animal skins and horns he would process for his trade. Mom always warned us not to look in that direction but that was enough reason to look. Couple of times I have gotten sight of the drying meat in his court yard and it would send chills through my spine. It was a huge relief for me years later when I heard they have moved out selling their piece of land to Mom.

Grandma occassionaly dried some fish on a string tied across her wood burning stove. For the first few days she would dry it in the shaded sun and bring it in afterwards. As the cooking smoke rose up the chimeny it would mix with the drying fish and reak the whole kitchen and terrace. I remember asking grandma once why she had to do it and she said that it was to preserve the fish for longer days. Though I hated the smell, I loved the curry she would make of it and so kind of learnt to get used to the smell. After all it was not everyday she would do that, only for a week or so and then we didn't see any sight of it till our next visit.

I cherished my visits to the fish market with Grandma. Grandma was a preacher's wife and so everybody called her Amma, including the fish ladies. Though I hated the smell of the fish market I loved to see the different kinds of fish and especially going out with my Grandma. To the few people who ask of me she would proudly say I was her grand daughter, visiting for the summer.

One thing different about the village market compared to the stores in the town (where we lived) was that here they would sell cut mango or cut coconut so you need not buy the whole thing but just enough for the day's cooking, which only means you would return to the market on a daily basis.

Towards the end of our trip, on the way out Grandma would buy me 'javvu muttai' a sticky squishy sugar candy. I loved it.

When we return home Grandma's assistant would set to clean the fish by the far end of the well. I would find a comfortable spot on the nearby tamarind tree, or for an upclose look might find a rock or piece of wood to sit on - close to the person cleaning the fish. I must say these observations came in handy the first time I had to clean the fish few years ago, fish that were caught by Israel and kids from our fishing adventure.

Before long food would be served with the most delicious fish curry and freshly made paruppu kulambu, rice and aviyal. I would happily eat it without any complaints and get back to my play on the terrace or more of my chimney watch!

Next thing cooking would be jaggery coffee... Hmmm those were the days - let loose and carefree...

A Love Story

2012-02-14T22:51:00.001-05:00

Loved this and wanted to share. By our friend and Pastor Matt Monyhan.

Love is in the air. Can’t you feel it?

This morning, I awoke to snow, did my morning ritual of shower and grooming, and kissed my wife goodbye, wishing her a Happy Valentine’s Day in the process. I was out of our neighborhood before I realized that something had gone terribly wrong on this peaceful morning.

I was not wearing my wedding ring.

Apparently, during the night, I took it off and set it on the desk beside my bed. This is not unusual because the fingers can sometimes swell and I will do things during sleep without realizing it until the next day. What is unusual is for me to forget to put my ring back on. I love wearing my wedding ring.

It reminds me that she picked me.

As the morning has progressed, I feel odd. I look at my finger and it seems empty. Even odder is the indention where my ring has obviously rested for the past 16+ years. It looks like I am still wearing my wedding band, even though it is currently sitting on my desk at home. Looking closer, I notice that the skin tissue where this indention resides is actually calloused, almost scarred, into the shape of my ring.

I think about friends and family that have gone through separation and divorce and…I do not understand. I cannot imagine my life without my wife. I realize that widows and widowers have to learn this difficult lesson by no choosing of their own (as well as unsuspecting spouses, at times). But, in my mind, there is no world in which I would willingly choose to be back on my own, rather than part of a union…and not just any union…I am talking about Stacy, my wife.

She is as much a part of me as the callous on my finger that reminds me of her. I was once asked how I knew she was the One. My answer at the time was simple. How could she not be the One? It was a good answer. But my answer has changed.

She is not the One. We are One.

It would be hard to be tempted by another when we are One. It would be impossible to wish for a life as a half when I am part of a whole. Heck, I am sure we will start to look like each other soon.

I used to tell people that I did not have the perfect marriage…I would tell them nobody does…but that is a lie.

If marriage is defined by the ability to “cleave” to your wife, then mark us down as a 10. I am a better cleaver than Ward, Wally, and the Beaver put together (nice Leave It To Beaver reference). What God has joined together, let no man put asunder.

This is our love story.

By our friend and Pastor Matt Monyhan.

What a girl really wants

2012-02-10T22:16:00.009-05:00

Love is in the air! I can feel it all around. It was fun to watch the guys at work hurrying for quick lunch breaks to buy the cute little something for their sweethearts. One of them even told me what he got for his wife: a quill pen with an inkwell and some chocolate! Isn't that cute?

Now, for others scrambling for last minute ideas to please the special girl in their life, thought I could share some tips. After all a girl knows what a girl wants!

It is true we love the exotic stuff like red roses, strawberries dipped in chocolate, love notes, heart pendants, and of course the quill pens, but our heart is in the little things - things you take for granted - things you would miss out completely on - things you won't even understand - things that are dear to our heart... okay, you got it! For those who didn't, here's the list:

1. Show genuine interest in how our day was, instead of going on and on about how yours went.
2. Respect our parents; allow us to buy them whatever we like to; never ask why and never ever say no.
3. Yes, bring us a full glass of water; we are so busy keeping your house in order that we often skimp on nourishing water.
4. We love to eat out; so take us places.
5. Walk with us - with your hands around our shoulders.
6. Make us laugh.

Now go ahead and get us that quill pen if you must; we will take it along with the rest of the list. If you don't care for the list, you might as well keep the quill pen; we care the least for it anyways... But the roses we will take - with or without the list - that's about the only exception!

Elbow wars

2012-02-08T18:27:00.006-05:00

Hi there! How have you been? I am writing this post while riding the bus on my way home from work. It is 5:50 pm on Wednesday, Feb 8th.

The day was good - before I knew it it was time to leave for home. I like days like this. On the other hand I would prefer the nights to take to a slower pace, but it hurries by only faster. It would seem like I just closed my eyes but soon the alarm goes off. But then it is really a blessing considering horror stories of sleepless nights tossing and turning.

I have come to like my bus rides better than the train. It is faster and I board it right by my house. Also I get an extra hour of sleep in the morning. Evenings too I could sleep if I wanted to, but I normally don't.

Mostly I get the first row seating on the passenger side which gives me ample view of the passing scenes. Oh! The New York skyline is a sight to see from these panoramic windows. The bus has an advantage of height over the cars which gives you a theater feel, if you will, of things around. And the car dashboards look so sophisticated from the bus and every single car seems to run by smoothly as if in a commercial.

There is one issue though. There is no elbow rests in the middle of the seats which means that unless you get a window seat you can't rest your elbows. More importantly you have to watch it from straying out of your "territory" into your neighbor's space. Even as I type this post in my blackberry I am elbow rubbed by my neighbor's jacket which is spilling into "my space". I often recall my days in the outskirts of Trichy where I have witnessed some very interesting elbow fights in the local buses...

Okiedokie, let's call it a day. It was nice sharing with you. Few other thoughts that have lined up in my mind for possible posting are: Fly away hair, chimney smoke, conversations in the air etc. The problem is I can't quiet put my thoughts into words; at least not yet. Hopefully I'll overcome the shortage soon.

My stop is just a few yards away, so let me click Publish! You all have a good night or good day depending on where your sun is! See you!

Up close with the nose

2012-02-06T22:36:00.002-05:00

This is a repost from Feb 2011.

Have you ever found the nose to be the center of attraction during a conversation? It happens to me quite often though not as much as it used to when I was a kid.

Amidst a nice interesting conversation suddenly I get deviated towards the nose - how it looks, how it flares with the emotions, what the conversation really does to ones nose, face minus the nose, face with the nose, bigger, smaller, what-ifs, and other funny thoughts tickle me...

As I said this habit is very much on the decline now and I thought it necessary to capture it before I lose the 'art' completely; hence this post.

Not sure when or how it all started but I notice the person's nose, next to their fingers. Just like fingers can never lie about one's personality, nose can never lie about one's emotions. People say all those nice things about the eyes, but in fact it is the nose that makes the eyes look pretty as it kind of balances both eyes, so the credit should go to the nose. Imagine if we had not the nose, where else we would hoist the glasses?

Mom's nose turns red when she cries or gets angry. Rachel's nose has droplets of sweat since she was a baby and we guessed she would be short tempered; hasn't been true! Joshua's nose definitely smiles with his eyes, Sharon's nose is turned up when she is mad at mommy and mommy's nose is neutral except when she gets upset, then it flares up with her voice... (happened to catch myself on the mirror once or twice when this happened); Daddy's nose up close makes you wonder why it is so huge!

It feels so uneasy if something is on someones nose when you are talking to them. You very much want to tell him/her, but can't quite, and finally you do, and they excuse themselves and there aren't many awkward moments like that. We won't really feel the same if something was on their ear or lip or chin; why is that have you wondered?

Some when they laugh their nose too rolls with them - making a funny sound which only ignites more laughter, have you noticed? And some when they blow their nose it sounds like air horn of some kind startling sleeping babies and their pets alike, have you seen that? And those that try hard to sneeze and it goes so mild and weak and they try again with hands raised, rooms cleared only to get a faint feeble sneeze, then there are some like my Grandma who mostly kiss with their nose sniffing at you... Some noses can sing too, have you heard? How about the snoring noses that hiss or hush or thunder like motor bikes?

Do you think I am being 'nosy'? Is there anyone out there who shares in the same curiosity on noses as me?!

Leaping forward

2012-02-01T08:51:00.006-05:00

Hard to believe January 2012 is history now! Just as fast as it came it is gone. Today marks a brand new month. It is a bit more special because we are in a leap year. Let's leap forward!

The moment Christmas decorations come down, the stores pile up high on hearts and cupids, cards and roses, teddies and chocolates, all the sweet nothings which absolutely mean nothing to most of the crowd - after Feb 14th that is.

Come Feb 15th, the aisles will be screaming with rock bottom prices for the left over tokens of love. What difference a day makes! The "heart" you would have had to pay a fortune any day before the 14th, would be marked so low that no one wants it. Is that all love is about? Just a day?!

There was a time I too was caught up with these trends, but not any more. When at work everyone discussed where they were going for their Valentines dinner I would be afraid they would ask me next; not any more. After the day is over when friends show off their diamonds and rubies or the five dozen roses, I would look for the nearest exit, not any more... There have been days when a teary eyed me have made life more miserable for Israel for forgetting to buy me at least a bar of chocolate, not any more...

Am I more refined; hardly so! It's just that I understand now that these "tokens" have nothing to do with love or romance but are mere marketing gimmicks. (What? You see a halo around my head? Thank you for noticing...)

The roses and jasmines Israel & kids pluck for me from our own plants during the Spring and Summer weekends mark my Valentines days. The Toblerone chocolate he gets for me just because he saw it in the stores and thought of me, on a regular day, makes it all the more special. And I know with a bar of KitKat - especially the white ones - I can win him over any given day and don't have to wait for a marked Valentines Day!

But for those of you who look forward to the day, here's wishing you everything the day can offer and much more for the days after! Happy Valentines Month!

New York so far

2012-01-28T12:44:00.008-05:00

I know I know I know, some of you are bored of my New York ramblings; but then there are those who say bring it on, so please bear with me...

You haven't seen New York if you haven't ridden (now,is that the right verb? I need to check!) the Subway. It has a whole lot to offer. First it feels kind of suffocating to know you are underground, but soon you tend to forget that, taking in the scenes around, of people, people and more people.

Subway entertainers always excite me. Yes, entertainers they are; they don't beg, they entertain. Be it the woman recovering from "XY&Z" or the blind man with the best singing voice ever, they would make you pause for a minute and think - about yourself, about these people, or of similar incidents elsewhere...

Then there are those who make music with just one piece of instrument which fills the whole place with such melody. Of course my favorite is the man singing worship songs every morning in the tunnel walkway between Port Authority and Time Square. There is no music, no choir, just him - singing and worshipping the Lord as New York wakes up. How beautiful! It sets you in the mood for the rest of the day.

My fondest wish these days is to get to meet these people up close and share on my blog. But how should I approach? "Hi! Can I write about you on my blog?" No; that sounds awkward, a little invading. Let them live their life in peace while we move on... Oh! if you can spare some change please do; it would make neither of you rich but would make both happy.

Okay folks, hope you are all doing well, holding up on your resolutions for 2012. Good. I am too. 28 days have passed without any shopping expeditions. Not even one! Not that I am cautiously avoiding it. It's just that I haven't had the time. Today I did; but decided to chat with you instead, which feels good, much better than shopping; trust me!

Take care friends! You are constantly in my thoughts. Anything I see around I want to share with you; anything I hear about I want to tell you; anything that goes on in my life I wish to write about. But then I believe life at your end is as cherishing, people as interesting and scenes as compelling if not better, so I spare you some details.

Let's keep our eyes and ears open to take in the beauty of life around us; and more importantly our hearts!

P.S: Check! 'Ridden' is the right verb to use. For all other possible tenses for the verb ride, check out the About.com page here. It's quite interesting how many they have thought of on that...

Beware the "Parasites"!

2012-01-22T16:17:00.008-05:00

When in school someone sent me anonymous notes, like "You would be my goddess if my heart were a temple" or "I am your big fan" or "I admire you" etc. Being in an all girls school I considered it silly and ignored it for sometime and then I thought this was getting serious. So I asked to meet.

It turns out she was a girl from my junior class, her name was Sudha. I told her I appreciated her fondness for me and that I would love to be good friends with her. She was delighted by my acceptance of her that she fit quite well in my circle of friends and we had a great time together. True her "love notes" stopped then.

My friend's sister around that age was on hunger strike since actor Amir Khan had got married. Israel admits he and his friends were so hurt over actress Sridevi's love affair with someone, they skipped a meal or two; someone even grew a beard.

Silly as it may sound these kind of infatuations could become serious problems if neglected. These "friendships" are unhealthy in the first place and could lead to disasters if left untreated. It could even become fatal in extreme cases. How sad is that! Hard to believe such attacks coming from folks of same gender.

Shockingly a growing reason for failed marriages is friendship between same gender. It starts innocently as a friend, and soon the husband and wife spend less and less time together and this "friend" consumes more of their time (either the husband's or the wife's) which ultimately leads to destruction.

Now the question is how to overcome such 'parasites' if you will. Here are few tips we learnt in a marriage class:

1. Invest in each other. Every kind gesture is a "credit" and every unkind one is a "debit"; the idea is to keep a positive balance in your Love Bank.
2. If you don't invest in your husband or wife, someone else will and it may be harder to win her/him back.
3. Watch out for these parasites in your life and stay clear of unwanted, unhealthy friendships.
4. Play together.

Enjoying recreational activities together is a great way for couples to bond better. If he is into fishing and you are into knitting, why not knit by his fishing pond? What if you enjoy the outdoors and he is a home body? Great chance to set out a picnic in your own back yard! Where there is a will, there is a way!

Now, few tips for the "parasites" themselves:

1. Be true to yourself. No, your life is NOT dependent on this one person.
2. Develop healthy attitude in life. Exercise your body, mind and soul.
3. Read. The pages can take you places. The chances are you will meet new people out there.
4. Replace your bad habits with good.
5. Pray! Trust me it works.

We get only one chance at life. Let's stop (being) such parasites from (by) making it miserable.

Note to my friend: Hang in there! This too shall pass!

Parallel trains

2012-01-19T21:53:00.002-05:00

One thing that absolutely fascinates me in my New York subway ride is the passing of trains parallel to mine in any one direction. I always look for it and have encountered as much as three parallel trains at a time in a four track subway system. I try to look through the trains to the people standing on the far end of the opposite platform.

Someone yawns moving in one direction and someone fondly cuddles her child in another direction and someone is on the phone waiting at the platform for their respective trains and here I am looking at all of them from a passing train! It is quite interesting if you can imagine what I am trying to express here...

This made me relate our lives to these trains running in parallel. We have all taken up on this journey, bound to 'somewhere', some to the North, some to the West, some wherever... Some we travel with, some we only glance at briefly, some we meet at the stations, some we get acquainted by, some we travel along with and some we would never meet. All sharing in the same scene, breath, space and even time and yet many oblivious to the existence of the other; isn't that something?

So many things happen around you that you can't possibly observe every little detail. From the woman who cries out "Good morning New York! Here's your copy of AM New York!" to the guy in front of you who swipes his Metro card for the nth time trying to get access to the station, to the vendors, the homeless, the posh, the not so, the police, the florist, I can go on and on and on and on listing the kind of people I see around. Every one lives a life, has found love, has a story to tell, is on a journey, destination who knows, or even cares...

Now where am I headed? Good question! Actually I have to think about it... I am kind of lost in my surroundings for now. Please excuse me if this post doesn't make much sense to you, I am just thinking out loud, that's all!

Priceless!

2012-01-11T22:38:00.005-05:00

NY Penn Station was so packed this evening. There was live Gospel music going on in the background by a man on His guitar. All seats were taken except a single one which was kind of ignored by all. I took it as I had about 12 minutes wait and didn't feel like standing that long. Also I wanted to sit down and enjoy the music.

When I got comfortable I noticed this frail figure sitting next to me - almost curled up to the lap, like a big ball of laundry or something. From the scarf around the head I could make out it was a lady. "Old. very old. 83? no, older. 93? hmm.. may be a little older. 103? mmm... 203? most like it!" judges my quick mind. No movements in the next few minutes I observed. Absolutely still!

"Is she - ahem - alive?", I begin to worry. No, I can't poke or shake her. I just have to wait and hope she moves before my train comes, lest I will be worried rest of my life.

I start to take some side ward glances. She has a torn handbag on her lap and a water bottle; wearing only a open toe sandal - no proper shoes for the freezing weather outside. My heart skips a beat. Just moments ago I had cursed my shoes as I couldn't feel my toes in my short walk to the station. I feel terrible about her shoes now. Why would she come out in these in this weather? May be this is all she has?! Where is she headed? Does she have anyone? Any one at all?.... Still!

I begin to panic a little. What if??? Oh! Thank God! She just moved. Lifted her head up, with her left hand removed her dentures and curls up again.

I want to do something for her; give her something. But, would she take it or scream at me for "degrading" her or something, alerts my mind. Ignoring that I start to dig through my purse. Right off I find two $20 bills folded away in a side zipper. $20? That's a lot. I should have $5 bills and even some singles I am sure. But then $1 is too little. $5 seems okay. Will it really help her? May be a meal at the most; nothing else. So I settle for the $20.

Now I look around to see if any one is looking - not that I wanted someone to see me give, rather I did not want any one to see me in case she yells back at me. My train is next to be announced and I can't let the minute slip by.

Before long I say "Excuse me" which is not even audible to me. On my next attempt she lifts up her head again with much effort, her dentures still in her hand. I thrush the $20 bill on her hand and say, "A little something". She accepts it and thanks me. A moment later she straightens up hard to look at my face properly and thanks again with the most beautiful toothless smile I have ever seen.

My train has been announced! I rush to get on it with the best feeling money could ever give! Priceless!

India

2012-01-05T10:06:00.002-05:00

Just returned from India!

What I most like about India is that it is home - no matter what. From the moment we land in India to the moment we leave, there is no thoughts of America or of what we have left behind. When we return however, not a single day passes by without thoughts of India. This alone makes it clear where we belong.

From the tiny over crowded churches where people gather joyfully to commence their new year to the noisy streets and dusty cattle crossing roads, India has a lot to offer. It molds one's heart to do better, to pay back, to love and cherish the people you call family. There is a strong bond that connects all.

Some say it is short lived and that we don't see the negative side because we visit just for a few days. But to be honest, it is what I feel about the people and their relationship rather than how they treat me, that makes the difference. Genuine is the word. People are genuine about their feelings and their emotions, good or bad. My love for them (or the lack of it) is also genuine.

For those who think they lack something by not leaving India, I can assure they have got it all. For those like me who think we have made it all, I insist we lack a lot. We will be selfish to assume we are better off when our own kind can't afford any of it.

The uncle who is dying, the family that is struggling, the old lady who doesn't have a single pair of sandals, the sick in the dirty government hospital, they need me.

Rest of my years in America, my focus will be how better I can pay back my India. Hopefully someday I can return for good and make it my home again! But until then, I will refocus my priorities and reflect the needs of the "least of these". I am sure whatever I do for them will be considered done unto Him. (Matthew 25:31-46)

Are you still with me?

It was the night before Christmas

2011-12-21T12:41:00.002-05:00

It was the night before Christmas! All was calm and all was well. Or was, it? Not really! Most cities in Israel that night were thriving with passengers and passersby. The streets were packed with travelers and their animals; the side walks overflowing with small shops and eateries. Businesses were in full bloom. Every one was spending. All hotels and motels, and everything in between were fully booked. The scene was almost festive.

Mary and Joseph had just arrived in Bethlehem. They stopped by a few places to see if they can get a room. Most had the sign out: "House Full!", "No Room!". None. Not even one. One man was kind enough to show them his manger saying, "May be you could use this?!" Joseph looked around the place with Mary and sure it wasn't their type. The walls and floors and roof, everything was wrong, but it has to do for now. It is already too late. Mary wanted off that donkey ride. She has had enough. They had traveled far and now they needed to rest!

Joseph gets her down the donkey and helps her in to the cow shed. Sits her down on some hay and quickly sets off to clean the place. The animals were just moved out and so the place was stinking. There is nothing much he can do about it and they have to adjust for the night somehow. May be tomorrow he would set off early to knock at a few more doors to find a better place. For tonight this has to do.

Mary is in no mood to look around her boarding. She is glad the ride is over. It will be a quick night she tells herself; soon it will be day. She was not worried about the baby too. After all if what the angel had told her about this child she was carrying was true, that He was the Savior of the world, then no way she was going to deliver him tonight. Not here, not tonight, not in this dirty stingy manger. The Savior has to be born in a better surrounding in more comfort where she would have maids to attend on her and atleast some warm water and clean clothes at her disposal. So she was least worried about the rest of the night.

Elsewhere in Bethlehem the shepherds had called it a day. They were locals. They had stayed put in their father's homes in their native town which made it convenient as they didn't have to travel like most others did to register their names for the ongoing census.They had gathered their flocks from the mountain sides, plains and valleys, counted them all and were satisfied with the numbers. One of them grew a fire. It was bright and warm against the dark and cold night. Few were resting their heads while the others had a conversation going. Mostly it was about the travelers they talked.

Suddenly an angel appeared before them lighting up the night sky announcing the good news that their Savior has been born! Hosts of more angels joined him singing, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests." Just like how they appeared out of nowhere they disappeared suddenly leaving the shepherds in awe of wonder and the sky still illuminated with the trail of their glow.

Mary had been wrong. The Savior was indeed born! That very night! In the dirty stingy manger! She had to do with some rags she could find here and there. She was in tears looking at the child - the God child - God Himself in human form - smiling back at her! She was blaming herself for not being prepared to receive Him. Joseph was speechless. He felt bad too that inspite of the angel's advance notification about the nature of this Child, how was it that He didn't make arrangements for a better place? It was God Himself in human form, the child he was holding. He couldn't believe his eyes.

If only He had been born at his home, he wouldn't have had to deal with Him first hand. Maids would have cleaned the child up, helped Mary up and he would have made sure the needs of the Mother and Child were met. Here he is all alone with the new born. What was he to do? How was he to care? Could he quickly set out to buy something for Mary? Could she manage while he was gone? Is the Child too cold in the rags? Is the hay too prickly for His back? Is Mary okay? So many thoughts rush through his mind and he is not sure what to do and in which order.

If only he had some company... Sooner than he finished his thoughts loads of shepherds show up at the stall, to salute the King Child. They have brought with them milk, honey and curd and other eatables. They are helping around the place. They know what is best to keep warm for the night. Someone grows a fire. Someone shares his extra blanket with Joseph. Someone warms up some water and roasts some grains for Mary. The Child is lovely. He is their Savior! Sure He is!

This very Child who later gave up His life to redeem the lost world, more importantly me... My Savior whose flesh was torn, whose body was pierced, whose hands were nailed down, whose words were ridiculed, who was mocked at, yelled at, spit at, who was abandoned by all, to the point of death! However, He endured it all and conqured them all! All for me!

Merry Christmas everyone! The Savior is born!

Please welcome Kate!

2011-12-17T05:39:00.002-05:00

An Anonymous reader wrote (on this post):

"Hello my beautiful world!

Hello everyone on this place!

I am Kate."

I was touched by the simplicity and openness these words express!

Ladies and gentlemen please welcome Kate. Hope in the coming days we will get to know a little bit more about Kate. For all we know she may never return but in case she does, let this be a huge welcome for her!

On another note, yes, I got that job; no, I have not decided - at least not yet!

On yet another note, we are traveling to India for Christmas! Actually Christmas for us will begin in London airport and rest in the Emirates Flight and some in Dubai. Not our kind of Christmas but still we are looking forward to it.

In case I don't get to post again before we leave, wishing you all a very blessed time of the year and of course a greater, funner, more prosperous brand new New Year 2012!

Now, please; please freeze that smile! It looks so good on you!

This is NRIGirl reporting from New York Penn Station!

2011-12-14T10:13:00.007-05:00

Here I am in New York wishing I could capture all the scenes around me for you all. Looking around NY Penn Station I notice that almost every one of them is connected - either to their blackberries or iPhone or ipods or plain old newspapers or books or magazines - something!

Since my train is arriving only at 2:35 PM and the time now is 1:59 PM I decided to people watch. Let me first set the stage: The ceiling is fairly tall with huge beams for support. To my left is entrance to tracks 5 & 6 and to my right to 7 & 8. Suspended LED monitors announce train schedules. It is interesting that only when the train pulls into the station you would know which track it is on. As far as I can see there are 21 tracks!

Imagine the rush when they announce which track your train is on. Waves of people would rush to the track without any pushing or pulling. You are always at an elbow's distance from your next person from all sides. OK, elbow's length may be a little exaggeration, I would say touchable distance but not touching.

Now that I have given you a rough overview, let us get back to people watching. People of all sizes and colors and races and styles yet one common thread that connects them all, which is that they are all hard working. Sure you can tell that just from looking at them. No idling or loitering which we might see in a typical city station in India. The voices are kept to a minimum except for the occasional loud speaker announcements to keep watch of our surroundings and report any suspicious activities around.

I see a gentleman with his wife both with golden hair and red coats and gold rimmed glasses. I recall our Carl & Ellie though these look much taller. Opposite to me I see a man resembling Charlie Sheen with a bigger attitude of exasperated animations and hand gestures over his phone conversation. I smile at that as the person on the other end is missing out on the rest of the conversation that is going on.

I see a little girl - probably around 7 years of age - with her parents, or are they grand parents, crying for something in suppressed voices and her guardians bending down to her level and explaining things to her.

Lots of red I see. Coats, sweaters, shawls, scarfs, pullovers, a whole lot of red things. The reason of course is the season. We Americans love to wear colors coordinated around the season. In the fall you will see a lot of different shades of brown and orange and in the winter leading up to Christmas a lot of red and after Christmas navy and green and purple and camel and the like. In Spring of course pastel shades and in the summer barely anything - mostly shorts and tanks with flip flops and pedicured toes.

The beautiful girl (African American) sitting next to me just puts away her navy blue Bible she was reading for quite sometime. I try to recall what I read this morning. My mind skips to connect and then it dawns that it was Song of Songs Chapter 7.

There are a couple of sweepers dressed in crisp uniforms with keen interest on keeping the area clean. Few are lined up in the 'How can we help you?' booth. Someone just opened his water bottle and emptied all it's content - wow he sure was thirsty! Couple of uniformed police officers are on rounds constantly talking in their walkie talkies.

Loads of other people around but none quite interesting as the few I have mentioned here. These 'uninteresting people' I notice are wearing black and connected to an electronic device. Does it say something? May be; but let's move on. The time is 2:16 pm and my train is the next in row only next to the 2:31 train bound to Jersey Ave, North East Corridor.

I haven't been feeling well since morning. Woke up with a sore throat but forced myself to come in. Now I have a mild headache and feel a little feverish too. I am sorry I forgot to tell you why I am here in the first place. I came in for an interview. Traveling to NYC is not something I look forward to on a daily basis but my friends tell me I will sure enjoy the ride if I wind up in NYC. Let's see.

The round trip ticket was $28, the cab was $15 and now the rice bowl from the Mexican place I picked up for lunch was $10.42. Sharon has been asking for chocolate cup cakes and bought some from Bread and Basket which was $17 so you can do the Math as to the cost of my visit. I don't mind spending as long as it is something we enjoy. But to be honest the rice bowl was yucky and the cakes I can only hope it won't go wasted.

Oops! I just looked up at the screen and my train has come on Track 2! I get up and rush with the wave that is moving towards Track 2 entrance. I have made it on time to settle down nice and square in a three seater. I force myself to eat my lunch, couple of scoops later I call it quits. If you can do me a favor please remind me never to pick up rice bowl from a Mexican place next time around. Please...

The train driver just announced the route of the train and lists a whole lot of stations where it will stop - which only means I am in for a longer ride than I'd hoped for and that only means I am going to write more.

I am writing on the reverse side of my resume and notice that it is already three pages long. How am I going to type it all in - worries my mind. We'll see. Yesterday I was helping Sharon typing her History fair project on Adolf Hitler. Why of all the people did she pick him?? It was quite informative though the typing was a little tedious.

It is exactly 2:35 PM and the train is pulling off the station. I too decide to wind down here to rest my eyes. However, few things make it impossible to do that. First thing, this morning I yelled at Sharon for getting late and she didn't answer me back, which was strange for Sharon. This bothers me. Next, as I was walking to the train station there was this lady preaching the Gospel at the street corners, giving out tracts.

Only after I passed a few blocks I got the urge to go and give her something. But I didn't feel like walking all the way back and so continued to walk towards the station. This bothers me. Next I am thinking of the interview and see how I could have given better answers for a few questions. This bothers me. But then that doesn't mean I can go on writing taking advantage of your listening ears. So, I put the papers away and close down the pen...

Thanks to cousin Jacinth for the picture, which was taken last Friday when I was in the City for the first round of interview.

Carl & Ellie

2011-12-12T14:20:00.002-05:00

We'll begin with a box...

2011-12-08T11:23:00.000-05:00

This is hilarious, received in an email from my good friend KP. Enjoyed it and so wanted to share... Couldn't quite figure out the author, however JAMA: The Journal of the American Medical Association, Volume 27 Year 1896 has it listed as by The Commonwealth. Whoever wrote it, he/she is worth our applause for compiling it.

We'll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes,

But the plural of ox becomes oxen, not oxes.
One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese,
Yet the plural of moose should never be meese.
You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice,
Yet the plural of house is houses, not hice.

If the plural of man is always called men,
Why shouldn't the plural of pan be called pen?
If I speak of my foot and show you my feet,
And I give you a boot, would a pair be called beet?
If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth,
Why shouldn't the plural of booth be called beeth?

Then one may be that, and there would be those,
Yet hat in the plural would never be hose,
And the plural of cat is cats, not cose.
We speak of a brother and also of brethren,
But though we say mother, we never say methren.
Then the masculine pronouns are he, his and him,
But imagine the feminine: she, shis and shim!

Let's face it - English is a crazy language.
There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger;
Neither apple nor pine in pineapple.
English muffins weren't invented in England.

We take English for granted, but if we explore its paradoxes,
We find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square,
And a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.
And why is it that writers write, but fingers don't fing,
Grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham?

Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend?
If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them,
What do you call it?

If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught?
If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?

Sometimes I think all the folks who grew up speaking English
Should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane.
In what other language do people recite at a play and play at a recital?

We ship by truck but send cargo by ship...
We have noses that run and feet that smell.
We park in a driveway and drive in a parkway.
And how can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same,
While a wise man and a wise guy are opposites?

You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language
In which your house can burn up as it burns down,
In which you fill in a form by filling it out,
And in which an alarm goes off by going on.
And in closing..........

If Father is Pop, how come Mother's not Mop.???

Can you find me?

2011-12-07T15:07:00.000-05:00

Forget me not

2011-12-06T23:56:00.001-05:00

Was it yesterday? Or the day before? Or the day before that? Doesn't really matter. What matters is that my memory is failing. Now, don't get alarmed; not to that extent to have you all worried. But it still concerns me.

Yesterday I was at Joshua's Basketball practice an hour early - all because I had forgotten his team name. Okay, one can argue having three kids in different age group with repeated team names could confuse anybody, but still...

Why no spoon in the lunch bag? Because Mommy forgot! The Thank you letter due to Mrs. Glass for the handy little pool she gave us this past summer, still pending... Where did I scribble down Delightson's new phone number? Who knows! Is Chithapa's birthday on Dec 10th or was it October 10th or could it be April 10th? My mind goes all blank...

These days I am not into any specific details when it comes to any specific things. Ask me what we paid for the new appliances we just bought last week, I wouldn't know the answer. Did Sharon get a B or was it a B+ in History? Don't know. Breakdown of my investment portfolio? Don't know, but who cares? Where did I keep my white dial watch? Don't know! What was the other thing I wanted to add here? Oh! No!

Having doctors and educators and home makers and engineers among my blog world friends thought I would run it by you first before taking it to Israel. He would dismiss it as lack of sleep or something similar and would blame it all on me, unlike you folks; you are very kind. No, I won't take 'aging' for an answer because I know I am NOT! Nice try though...

The "I" factor

2011-12-04T18:43:00.003-05:00

"I" was probably one alphabet we couldn't relate to in our kindergarten class as it often stood for Ice or Igloo or Ink in our times which was all foreign at that age; Ice cream or even India would have been a better choice but not sure why it wasn't widely popular in our early education curriculum.

Interesting how the alphabet "I" took a whole new meaning following i-mac! There is a wide range of market these days for "I" ranging from i-mac, i-pod, i-phone, i-pad, i-touch, i-home, i-bone all the way to i-dog and beyond! I rather not talk much about these but move on...

Here in the US we identify highways with an 'I' in the front such as I-78, I-287 where 'I' stands for Interstate - a highway that connects two or more states. There is a general rule of thumb that the odd number interstates normally run North to South while the even numbers run East to West. Of course there are exceptions to this rule.

In Math too whenever you do a loop you count it from i=0 to 'n' where i stands for the iteration count and 'n' is the total number of iterations; if there are two or more loops you would use 'j' or 'k' reluctantly for the second or further loop; but note the first loop is almost always controlled by 'i'.

Of course you can't deny the importance of "I" in a wedding ceremony. After all, "I do" is what commits a man and woman to their wedding vows thus pronouncing them husband and wife.

Then there is the plain and simple I that stands for none other than the first person singular. This is the I causing much commotion everywhere we turn. All the fuss to keep this I happy and contented and yet one can only hope the magic would work. This I can be defined as a touch-me-not as it can easily be offended and would always defend itself.

Looking at the "I" up close I find it funny how I truly enjoy myself; laughing out loud over some of my own jokes, amusing over some of my own conversations, patting my back over some of my own writings and even loving the way the hair looks when I first roll off the bed! It is like the "I" is the second person the "Me" admires and applauds. Is this pride? I guess not; as the other symptoms include a lighter heart as opposed to a heavier head.

But then there are times this I is in total conflict with the Me like right now and goes ahead and hits the 'Publish' button even when Me thinks it is not worth it... A close up shot now would reveal the "I" grinning from ear to ear while the "Me" is all embarassed with the rosiest cheeks ever; poor thing!

As promised

2011-12-03T13:01:00.001-05:00

Here's presenting our tree! As promised...

Happy December!

2011-12-01T11:34:00.008-05:00

Merry Christmas everyone! Okay, okay it is not Christmas yet; but feels like it already! Everywhere we turn there are lights and trees and bells and wreaths and what not! Our tree is up too; the lights are all on! (I promise to take a picture tonight to share with you!)

The weather is surprisingly beautiful - with plenty of sunshine and temps still in two digits. No one complains about it as everyone needs some day light to put on the lights and stuff. But then if it doesn't start snowing few days before Christmas some faces will be gloomy as everyone - including me - loves a white Christmas. Let's see, how this turns out...

Our town (Jefferson, NJ) spreads more Christmas cheer by sponsoring various activities such as Gingerbread house contest and Christmas in the village. Then there is live nativity at the church and Israel has volunteered to be a shepherd. It is nice to see the community coming together to share in the joy.

Children are a little nervous as they don't see any gifts under the tree. The problem is in the last couple of months anything they asked for and we said wait till Christmas, they would respond, "we want it now and we will not ask for it later". Okay we got it for them. And here we are at Christmas and they are still hoping for something. So the bare tree doesn't seem to induce any cheer in them. What to do? Quick solution is to get something of course but...

In a way it is okay not to give and receive gifts for Christmas as it puts too much pressure on the giver and a whole lot of disappointment at the receiving end. However we try to justify it, giving always brings us joy! Double portion - is it not?!

Gifts or no gifts Christmas is Christmas! Merry Christmas y'all!

Ho Ho Ho!
~ NRIGirl

Eve's Diary by Mark Twain

2011-11-30T10:38:00.012-05:00

Mark Twain (1835-1910) is my most favorite author and I truly enjoy his writing style. Today, Nov 30th 2011 marks his 176th birthday and here's one of his work that I truly cherish - Eve's diary!

I agree it is quite lengthy but then it is quite something too! I especially loved the part where Eve meets "it" for the first time and their first few encounters are hilarious! Eve's reasoning as to why she loves him is quite interesting and her prayer towards the end is very touching. We also get a glimpse of Adam's diary which gives an idea of what he thinks of Eve.

It's Eve's diary after all and you don't want to miss! If you have some time I invite you to read the rest...

Eve's Diary by Mark Twain

Translated from the Original

SATURDAY.--I am almost a whole day old, now. I arrived yesterday. That is as it seems to me. And it must be so, for if there was a day-before-yesterday I was not there when it happened, or I should remember it. It could be, of course, that it did happen, and that I was not noticing. Very well; I will be very watchful now, and if any day-before-yesterdays happen I will make a note of it. It will be best to start right and not let the record get confused, for some instinct tells me that these details are going to be important to the historian some day. For I feel like an experiment, I feel exactly like an experiment; it would be impossible for a person to feel more like an experiment than I do, and so I am coming to feel convinced that that is what I AM--an experiment; just an experiment, and nothing more.

Then if I am an experiment, am I the whole of it? No, I think not; I think the rest of it is part of it. I am the main part of it, but I think the rest of it has its share in the matter. Is my position assured, or do I have to watch it and take care of it? The latter, perhaps. Some instinct tells me that eternal vigilance is the price of supremacy. [That is a good phrase, I think, for one so young.]

Everything looks better today than it did yesterday. In the rush of finishing up yesterday, the mountains were left in a ragged condition, and some of the plains were so cluttered with rubbish and remnants that the aspects were quite distressing. Noble and beautiful works of art should not be subjected to haste; and this majestic new world is indeed a most noble and beautiful work. And certainly marvelously near to being perfect, notwithstanding the shortness of the time. There are too many stars in some places and not enough in others, but that can be remedied presently, no doubt. The moon got loose last night, and slid down and fell out of the scheme --a very great loss; it breaks my heart to think of it. There isn't another thing among the ornaments and decorations that is comparable to it for beauty and finish. It should have been fastened better. If we can only get it back again-- But of course there is no telling where it went to. And besides, whoever gets it will hide it; I know it because I would do it myself. I believe I can be honest in all other matters, but I already begin to realize that the core and center of my nature is love of the beautiful, a passion for the beautiful, and that it would not be safe to trust me with a moon that belonged to another person and that person didn't know I had it. I could give up a moon that I found in the daytime, because I should be afraid some one was looking; but if I found it in the dark, I am sure I should find some kind of an excuse for not saying anything about it. For I do love moons, they are so pretty and so romantic. I wish we had five or six; I would never go to bed; I should never get tired lying on the moss-bank and looking up at them.

Stars are good, too. I wish I could get some to put in my hair. But I suppose I never can. You would be surprised to find how far off they are, for they do not look it. When they first showed, last night, I tried to knock some down with a pole, but it didn't reach, which astonished me; then I tried clods till I was all tired out, but I never got one. It was because I am left-handed and cannot throw good. Even when I aimed at the one I wasn't after I couldn't hit the other one, though I did make some close shots, for I saw the black blot of the clod sail right into the midst of the golden clusters forty or fifty times, just barely missing them, and if I could have held out a little longer maybe I could have got one.

So I cried a little, which was natural, I suppose, for one of my age, and after I was rested I got a basket and started for a place on the extreme rim of the circle, where the stars were close to the ground and I could get them with my hands, which would be better, anyway, because I could gather them tenderly then, and not break them. But it was farther than I thought, and at last I had to give it up; I was so tired I couldn't drag my feet another step; and besides, they were sore and hurt me very much.

I couldn't get back home; it was too far and turning cold; but I found some tigers and nestled in among them and was most adorably comfortable, and their breath was sweet and pleasant, because they live on strawberries. I had never seen a tiger before, but I knew them in a minute by the stripes. If I could have one of those skins, it would make a lovely gown.

Today I am getting better ideas about distances. I was so eager to get hold of every pretty thing that I giddily grabbed for it, sometimes when it was too far off, and sometimes when it was but six inches away but seemed a foot--alas, with thorns between! I learned a lesson; also I made an axiom, all out of my own head --my very first one; THE SCRATCHED EXPERIMENT SHUNS THE THORN. I think it is a very good one for one so young.

I followed the other Experiment around, yesterday afternoon, at a distance, to see what it might be for, if I could. But I was not able to make out. I think it is a man. I had never seen a man, but it looked like one, and I feel sure that that is what it is. I realize that I feel more curiosity about it than about any of the other reptiles. If it is a reptile, and I suppose it is; for it has frowzy hair and blue eyes, and looks like a reptile. It has no hips; it tapers like a carrot; when it stands, it spreads itself apart like a derrick; so I think it is a reptile, though it may be architecture.

I was afraid of it at first, and started to run every time it turned around, for I thought it was going to chase me; but by and by I found it was only trying to get away, so after that I was not timid any more, but tracked it along, several hours, about twenty yards behind, which made it nervous and unhappy. At last it was a good deal worried, and climbed a tree. I waited a good while, then gave it up and went home.

Today the same thing over. I've got it up the tree again.

SUNDAY.--It is up there yet. Resting, apparently. But that is a subterfuge: Sunday isn't the day of rest; Saturday is appointed for that. It looks to me like a creature that is more interested in resting than in anything else. It would tire me to rest so much. It tires me just to sit around and watch the tree. I do wonder what it is for; I never see it do anything.

They returned the moon last night, and I was SO happy! I think it is very honest of them. It slid down and fell off again, but I was not distressed; there is no need to worry when one has that kind of neighbors; they will fetch it back. I wish I could do something to show my appreciation. I would like to send them some stars, for we have more than we can use. I mean I, not we, for I can see that the reptile cares nothing for such things.

It has low tastes, and is not kind. When I went there yesterday evening in the gloaming it had crept down and was trying to catch the little speckled fishes that play in the pool, and I had to clod it to make it go up the tree again and let them alone. I wonder if THAT is what it is for? Hasn't it any heart? Hasn't it any compassion for those little creature? Can it be that it was designed and manufactured for such ungentle work? It has the look of it. One of the clods took it back of the ear, and it used language. It gave me a thrill, for it was the first time I had ever heard speech, except my own. I did not understand the words, but they seemed expressive.

When I found it could talk I felt a new interest in it, for I love to talk; I talk, all day, and in my sleep, too, and I am very interesting, but if I had another to talk to I could be twice as interesting, and would never stop, if desired.

If this reptile is a man, it isn't an IT, is it? That wouldn't be grammatical, would it? I think it would be HE. I think so. In that case one would parse it thus: nominative, HE; dative, HIM; possessive, HIS'N. Well, I will consider it a man and call it he until it turns out to be something else. This will be handier than having so many uncertainties.

NEXT WEEK SUNDAY.--All the week I tagged around after him and tried to get acquainted. I had to do the talking, because he was shy, but I didn't mind it. He seemed pleased to have me around, and I used the sociable "we" a good deal, because it seemed to flatter him to be included.

WEDNESDAY.--We are getting along very well indeed, now, and getting better and better acquainted. He does not try to avoid me any more, which is a good sign, and shows that he likes to have me with him. That pleases me, and I study to be useful to him in every way I can, so as to increase his regard. During the last day or two I have taken all the work of naming things off his hands, and this has been a great relief to him, for he has no gift in that line, and is evidently very grateful. He can't think of a rational name to save him, but I do not let him see that I am aware of his defect. Whenever a new creature comes along I name it before he has time to expose himself by an awkward silence. In this way I have saved him many embarrassments. I have no defect like this. The minute I set eyes on an animal I know what it is. I don't have to reflect a moment; the right name comes out instantly, just as if it were an inspiration, as no doubt it is, for I am sure it wasn't in me half a minute before. I seem to know just by the shape of the creature and the way it acts what animal it is.

When the dodo came along he thought it was a wildcat--I saw it in his eye. But I saved him. And I was careful not to do it in a way that could hurt his pride. I just spoke up in a quite natural way of pleasing surprise, and not as if I was dreaming of conveying information, and said, "Well, I do declare, if there isn't the dodo!" I explained--without seeming to be explaining --how I know it for a dodo, and although I thought maybe he was a little piqued that I knew the creature when he didn't, it was quite evident that he admired me. That was very agreeable, and I thought of it more than once with gratification before I slept. How little a thing can make us happy when we feel that we have earned it!

THURSDAY.--my first sorrow. Yesterday he avoided me and seemed to wish I would not talk to him. I could not believe it, and thought there was some mistake, for I loved to be with him, and loved to hear him talk, and so how could it be that he could feel unkind toward me when I had not done anything? But at last it seemed true, so I went away and sat lonely in the place where I first saw him the morning that we were made and I did not know what he was and was indifferent about him; but now it was a mournful place, and every little thing spoke of him, and my heart was very sore. I did not know why very clearly, for it was a new feeling; I had not experienced it before, and it was all a mystery, and I could not make it out.

But when night came I could not bear the lonesomeness, and went to the new shelter which he had built, to ask him what I had done that was wrong and how I could mend it and get back his kindness again; but he put me out in the rain, and it was my first sorrow.

SUNDAY.--It is pleasant again, now, and I am happy; but those were heavy days; I do not think of them when I can help it.

I tried to get him some of those apples, but I cannot learn to throw straight. I failed, but I think the good intention pleased him. They are forbidden, and he says I shall come to harm; but so I come to harm through pleasing him, why shall I care for that harm?

MONDAY.--This morning I told him my name, hoping it would interest him. But he did not care for it. It is strange. If he should tell me his name, I would care. I think it would be pleasanter in my ears than any other sound.

He talks very little. Perhaps it is because he is not bright, and is sensitive about it and wishes to conceal it. It is such a pity that he should feel so, for brightness is nothing; it is in the heart that the values lie. I wish I could make him understand that a loving good heart is riches, and riches enough, and that without it intellect is poverty.

Although he talks so little, he has quite a considerable vocabulary. This morning he used a surprisingly good word. He evidently recognized, himself, that it was a good one, for he worked in it twice afterward, casually. It was good casual art, still it showed that he possesses a certain quality of perception. Without a doubt that seed can be made to grow, if cultivated.

Where did he get that word? I do not think I have ever used it.

No, he took no interest in my name. I tried to hide my disappointment, but I suppose I did not succeed. I went away and sat on the moss-bank with my feet in the water. It is where I go when I hunger for companionship, some one to look at, some one to talk to. It is not enough--that lovely white body painted there in the pool --but it is something, and something is better than utter loneliness. It talks when I talk; it is sad when I am sad; it comforts me with its sympathy; it says, "Do not be downhearted, you poor friendless girl; I will be your friend." It IS a good friend to me, and my only one; it is my sister.

That first time that she forsook me! ah, I shall never forget that --never, never. My heart was lead in my body! I said, "She was all I had, and now she is gone!" In my despair I said, "Break, my heart; I cannot bear my life any more!" and hid my face in my hands, and there was no solace for me. And when I took them away, after a little, there she was again, white and shining and beautiful, and I sprang into her arms!

That was perfect happiness; I had known happiness before, but it was not like this, which was ecstasy. I never doubted her afterward. Sometimes she stayed away--maybe an hour, maybe almost the whole day, but I waited and did not doubt; I said, "She is busy, or she is gone on a journey, but she will come." And it was so: she always did. At night she would not come if it was dark, for she was a timid little thing; but if there was a moon she would come. I am not afraid of the dark, but she is younger than I am; she was born after I was. Many and many are the visits I have paid her; she is my comfort and my refuge when my life is hard--and it is mainly that.

TUESDAY.--All the morning I was at work improving the estate; and I purposely kept away from him in the hope that he would get lonely and come. But he did not.

At noon I stopped for the day and took my recreation by flitting all about with the bees and the butterflies and reveling in the flowers, those beautiful creatures that catch the smile of God out of the sky and preserve it! I gathered them, and made them into wreaths and garlands and clothed myself in them while I ate my luncheon --apples, of course; then I sat in the shade and wished and waited. But he did not come.

But no matter. Nothing would have come of it, for he does not care for flowers. He called them rubbish, and cannot tell one from another, and thinks it is superior to feel like that. He does not care for me, he does not care for flowers, he does not care for the painted sky at eventide--is there anything he does care for, except building shacks to coop himself up in from the good clean rain, and thumping the melons, and sampling the grapes, and fingering the fruit on the trees, to see how those properties are coming along?

I laid a dry stick on the ground and tried to bore a hole in it with another one, in order to carry out a scheme that I had, and soon I got an awful fright. A thin, transparent bluish film rose out of the hole, and I dropped everything and ran! I thought it was a spirit, and I WAS so frightened! But I looked back, and it was not coming; so I leaned against a rock and rested and panted, and let my limps go on trembling until they got steady again; then I crept warily back, alert, watching, and ready to fly if there was occasion; and when I was come near, I parted the branches of a rose-bush and peeped through--wishing the man was about, I was looking so cunning and pretty--but the sprite was gone. I went there, and there was a pinch of delicate pink dust in the hole. I put my finger in, to feel it, and said OUCH! and took it out again. It was a cruel pain. I put my finger in my mouth; and by standing first on one foot and then the other, and grunting, I presently eased my misery; then I was full of interest, and began to examine.

I was curious to know what the pink dust was. Suddenly the name of it occurred to me, though I had never heard of it before. It was FIRE! I was as certain of it as a person could be of anything in the world. So without hesitation I named it that--fire.

I had created something that didn't exist before; I had added a new thing to the world's uncountable properties; I realized this, and was proud of my achievement, and was going to run and find him and tell him about it, thinking to raise myself in his esteem --but I reflected, and did not do it. No--he would not care for it. He would ask what it was good for, and what could I answer? for if it was not GOOD for something, but only beautiful, merely beautiful-- So I sighed, and did not go. For it wasn't good for anything; it could not build a shack, it could not improve melons, it could not hurry a fruit crop; it was useless, it was a foolishness and a vanity; he would despise it and say cutting words. But to me it was not despicable; I said, "Oh, you fire, I love you, you dainty pink creature, for you are BEAUTIFUL--and that is enough!" and was going to gather it to my breast. But refrained. Then I made another maxim out of my head, though it was so nearly like the first one that I was afraid it was only a plagiarism: "THE BURNT EXPERIMENT SHUNS THE FIRE."

I wrought again; and when I had made a good deal of fire-dust I emptied it into a handful of dry brown grass, intending to carry it home and keep it always and play with it; but the wind struck it and it sprayed up and spat out at me fiercely, and I dropped it and ran. When I looked back the blue spirit was towering up and stretching and rolling away like a cloud, and instantly I thought of the name of it--SMOKE!--though, upon my word, I had never heard of smoke before.

Soon brilliant yellow and red flares shot up through the smoke, and I named them in an instant--FLAMES--and I was right, too, though these were the very first flames that had ever been in the world. They climbed the trees, then flashed splendidly in and out of the vast and increasing volume of tumbling smoke, and I had to clap my hands and laugh and dance in my rapture, it was so new and strange and so wonderful and so beautiful!

He came running, and stopped and gazed, and said not a word for many minutes. Then he asked what it was. Ah, it was too bad that he should ask such a direct question. I had to answer it, of course, and I did. I said it was fire. If it annoyed him that I should know and he must ask; that was not my fault; I had no desire to annoy him. After a pause he asked:

"How did it come?"

Another direct question, and it also had to have a direct answer.

"I made it."

The fire was traveling farther and farther off. He went to the edge of the burned place and stood looking down, and said:

"What are these?"

"Fire-coals."

He picked up one to examine it, but changed his mind and put it down again. Then he went away. NOTHING interests him.

But I was interested. There were ashes, gray and soft and delicate and pretty--I knew what they were at once. And the embers; I knew the embers, too. I found my apples, and raked them out, and was glad; for I am very young and my appetite is active. But I was disappointed; they were all burst open and spoiled. Spoiled apparently; but it was not so; they were better than raw ones. Fire is beautiful; some day it will be useful, I think.

FRIDAY.--I saw him again, for a moment, last Monday at nightfall, but only for a moment. I was hoping he would praise me for trying to improve the estate, for I had meant well and had worked hard. But he was not pleased, and turned away and left me. He was also displeased on another account: I tried once more to persuade him to stop going over the Falls. That was because the fire had revealed to me a new passion--quite new, and distinctly different from love, grief, and those others which I had already discovered--FEAR. And it is horrible!--I wish I had never discovered it; it gives me dark moments, it spoils my happiness, it makes me shiver and tremble and shudder. But I could not persuade him, for he has not discovered fear yet, and so he could not understand me.

Extract from Adam's Diary

Perhaps I ought to remember that she is very young, a mere girl and make allowances. She is all interest, eagerness, vivacity, the world is to her a charm, a wonder, a mystery, a joy; she can't speak for delight when she finds a new flower, she must pet it and caress it and smell it and talk to it, and pour out endearing names upon it. And she is color-mad: brown rocks, yellow sand, gray moss, green foliage, blue sky; the pearl of the dawn, the purple shadows on the mountains, the golden islands floating in crimson seas at sunset, the pallid moon sailing through the shredded cloud-rack, the star-jewels glittering in the wastes of space--none of them is of any practical value, so far as I can see, but because they have color and majesty, that is enough for her, and she loses her mind over them. If she could quiet down and keep still a couple minutes at a time, it would be a reposeful spectacle. In that case I think I could enjoy looking at her; indeed I am sure I could, for I am coming to realize that she is a quite remarkably comely creature --lithe, slender, trim, rounded, shapely, nimble, graceful; and once when she was standing marble-white and sun-drenched on a boulder, with her young head tilted back and her hand shading her eyes, watching the flight of a bird in the sky, I recognized that she was beautiful.

MONDAY NOON.--If there is anything on the planet that she is not interested in it is not in my list. There are animals that I am indifferent to, but it is not so with her. She has no discrimination, she takes to all of them, she thinks they are all treasures, every new one is welcome.

When the mighty brontosaurus came striding into camp, she regarded it as an acquisition, I considered it a calamity; that is a good sample of the lack of harmony that prevails in our views of things. She wanted to domesticate it, I wanted to make it a present of the homestead and move out. She believed it could be tamed by kind treatment and would be a good pet; I said a pet twenty-one feet high and eighty-four feet long would be no proper thing to have about the place, because, even with the best intentions and without meaning any harm, it could sit down on the house and mash it, for any one could see by the look of its eye that it was absent-minded.

Still, her heart was set upon having that monster, and she couldn't give it up. She thought we could start a dairy with it, and wanted me to help milk it; but I wouldn't; it was too risky. The sex wasn't right, and we hadn't any ladder anyway. Then she wanted to ride it, and look at the scenery. Thirty or forty feet of its tail was lying on the ground, like a fallen tree, and she thought she could climb it, but she was mistaken; when she got to the steep place it was too slick and down she came, and would have hurt herself but for me.

Was she satisfied now? No. Nothing ever satisfies her but demonstration; untested theories are not in her line, and she won't have them. It is the right spirit, I concede it; it attracts me; I feel the influence of it; if I were with her more I think I should take it up myself. Well, she had one theory remaining about this colossus: she thought that if we could tame it and make him friendly we could stand in the river and use him for a bridge. It turned out that he was already plenty tame enough--at least as far as she was concerned --so she tried her theory, but it failed: every time she got him properly placed in the river and went ashore to cross over him, he came out and followed her around like a pet mountain. Like the other animals. They all do that.

FRIDAY.--Tuesday--Wednesday--Thursday--and today: all without seeing him. It is a long time to be alone; still, it is better to be alone than unwelcome.

I HAD to have company--I was made for it, I think--so I made friends with the animals. They are just charming, and they have the kindest disposition and the politest ways; they never look sour, they never let you feel that you are intruding, they smile at you and wag their tail, if they've got one, and they are always ready for a romp or an excursion or anything you want to propose. I think they are perfect gentlemen. All these days we have had such good times, and it hasn't been lonesome for me, ever. Lonesome! No, I should say not. Why, there's always a swarm of them around --sometimes as much as four or five acres--you can't count them; and when you stand on a rock in the midst and look out over the furry expanse it is so mottled and splashed and gay with color and frisking sheen and sun-flash, and so rippled with stripes, that you might think it was a lake, only you know it isn't; and there's storms of sociable birds, and hurricanes of whirring wings; and when the sun strikes all that feathery commotion, you have a blazing up of all the colors you can think of, enough to put your eyes out.

We have made long excursions, and I have seen a great deal of the world; almost all of it, I think; and so I am the first traveler, and the only one. When we are on the march, it is an imposing sight --there's nothing like it anywhere. For comfort I ride a tiger or a leopard, because it is soft and has a round back that fits me, and because they are such pretty animals; but for long distance or for scenery I ride the elephant. He hoists me up with his trunk, but I can get off myself; when we are ready to camp, he sits and I slide down the back way.

The birds and animals are all friendly to each other, and there are no disputes about anything. They all talk, and they all talk to me, but it must be a foreign language, for I cannot make out a word they say; yet they often understand me when I talk back, particularly the dog and the elephant. It makes me ashamed. It shows that they are brighter than I am, for I want to be the principal Experiment myself--and I intend to be, too.

I have learned a number of things, and am educated, now, but I wasn't at first. I was ignorant at first. At first it used to vex me because, with all my watching, I was never smart enough to be around when the water was running uphill; but now I do not mind it. I have experimented and experimented until now I know it never does run uphill, except in the dark. I know it does in the dark, because the pool never goes dry, which it would, of course, if the water didn't come back in the night. It is best to prove things by actual experiment; then you KNOW; whereas if you depend on guessing and supposing and conjecturing, you never get educated.

Some things you CAN'T find out; but you will never know you can't by guessing and supposing: no, you have to be patient and go on experimenting until you find out that you can't find out. And it is delightful to have it that way, it makes the world so interesting. If there wasn't anything to find out, it would be dull. Even trying to find out and not finding out is just as interesting as trying to find out and finding out, and I don't know but more so. The secret of the water was a treasure until I GOT it; then the excitement all went away, and I recognized a sense of loss.

By experiment I know that wood swims, and dry leaves, and feathers, and plenty of other things; therefore by all that cumulative evidence you know that a rock will swim; but you have to put up with simply knowing it, for there isn't any way to prove it--up to now. But I shall find a way--then THAT excitement will go. Such things make me sad; because by and by when I have found out everything there won't be any more excitements, and I do love excitements so! The other night I couldn't sleep for thinking about it.

At first I couldn't make out what I was made for, but now I think it was to search out the secrets of this wonderful world and be happy and thank the Giver of it all for devising it. I think there are many things to learn yet--I hope so; and by economizing and not hurrying too fast I think they will last weeks and weeks. I hope so. When you cast up a feather it sails away on the air and goes out of sight; then you throw up a clod and it doesn't. It comes down, every time. I have tried it and tried it, and it is always so. I wonder why it is? Of course it DOESN'T come down, but why should it SEEM to? I suppose it is an optical illusion. I mean, one of them is. I don't know which one. It may be the feather, it may be the clod; I can't prove which it is, I can only demonstrate that one or the other is a fake, and let a person take his choice.

By watching, I know that the stars are not going to last. I have seen some of the best ones melt and run down the sky. Since one can melt, they can all melt; since they can all melt, they can all melt the same night. That sorrow will come--I know it. I mean to sit up every night and look at them as long as I can keep awake; and I will impress those sparkling fields on my memory, so that by and by when they are taken away I can by my fancy restore those lovely myriads to the black sky and make them sparkle again, and double them by the blur of my tears.

After the Fall

When I look back, the Garden is a dream to me. It was beautiful, surpassingly beautiful, enchantingly beautiful; and now it is lost, and I shall not see it any more.

The Garden is lost, but I have found HIM, and am content. He loves me as well as he can; I love him with all the strength of my passionate nature, and this, I think, is proper to my youth and sex. If I ask myself why I love him, I find I do not know, and do not really much care to know; so I suppose that this kind of love is not a product of reasoning and statistics, like one's love for other reptiles and animals. I think that this must be so. I love certain birds because of their song; but I do not love Adam on account of his singing--no, it is not that; the more he sings the more I do not get reconciled to it. Yet I ask him to sing, because I wish to learn to like everything he is interested in. I am sure I can learn, because at first I could not stand it, but now I can. It sours the milk, but it doesn't matter; I can get used to that kind of milk.

It is not on account of his brightness that I love him--no, it is not that. He is not to blame for his brightness, such as it is, for he did not make it himself; he is as God make him, and that is sufficient. There was a wise purpose in it, THAT I know. In time it will develop, though I think it will not be sudden; and besides, there is no hurry; he is well enough just as he is.

It is not on account of his gracious and considerate ways and his delicacy that I love him. No, he has lacks in this regard, but he is well enough just so, and is improving.

It is not on account of his industry that I love him--no, it is not that. I think he has it in him, and I do not know why he conceals it from me. It is my only pain. Otherwise he is frank and open with me, now. I am sure he keeps nothing from me but this. It grieves me that he should have a secret from me, and sometimes it spoils my sleep, thinking of it, but I will put it out of my mind; it shall not trouble my happiness, which is otherwise full to overflowing.

It is not on account of his education that I love him--no, it is not that. He is self-educated, and does really know a multitude of things, but they are not so.

It is not on account of his chivalry that I love him--no, it is not that. He told on me, but I do not blame him; it is a peculiarity of sex, I think, and he did not make his sex. Of course I would not have told on him, I would have perished first; but that is a peculiarity of sex, too, and I do not take credit for it, for I did not make my sex.

Then why is it that I love him? MERELY BECAUSE HE IS MASCULINE, I think.

At bottom he is good, and I love him for that, but I could love him without it. If he should beat me and abuse me, I should go on loving him. I know it. It is a matter of sex, I think.

He is strong and handsome, and I love him for that, and I admire him and am proud of him, but I could love him without those qualities. If he were plain, I should love him; if he were a wreck, I should love him; and I would work for him, and slave over him, and pray for him, and watch by his bedside until I died.

Yes, I think I love him merely because he is MINE and is MASCULINE. There is no other reason, I suppose. And so I think it is as I first said: that this kind of love is not a product of reasonings and statistics. It just COMES--none knows whence--and cannot explain itself. And doesn't need to.

It is what I think. But I am only a girl, the first that has examined this matter, and it may turn out that in my ignorance and inexperience I have not got it right.

Forty Years Later

It is my prayer, it is my longing, that we may pass from this life together--a longing which shall never perish from the earth, but shall have place in the heart of every wife that loves, until the end of time; and it shall be called by my name.

But if one of us must go first, it is my prayer that it shall be I; for he is strong, I am weak, I am not so necessary to him as he is to me--life without him would not be life; now could I endure it? This prayer is also immortal, and will not cease from being offered up while my race continues. I am the first wife; and in the last wife I shall be repeated.

At Eve's Grave

ADAM: Wheresoever she was, THERE was Eden.

Yahooooo!

2011-11-23T17:23:00.004-05:00

I am happy, very happy, for a couple of reasons! To begin with it's Thanksgiving tomorrow! And for the first time in many years we are invited over for Thanksgiving - not just one but two in a row - yes, both Thursday and Friday! Why am I so excited about that?!

Well, Thanksgiving is one feast we don't prefer to be alone. For many years we have been the host and we enjoyed doing that. However, last year since Israel's Mom suddenly passed away we skipped any and all celebrations but would have definitely preferred some company. Guess what? No one even bothered to call and see how we were faring or what we were doing for Christmas or New year, let alone Thanksgiving!

This broke my heart - actually 'shattered' might be a better word - to million pieces... I was crying at work, homesick, wanted to forever leave America and return to Amma & Co, even wrote a few sad poems in those lines... Israel was helpless and even I was taken aback by my own emotions!

Letting bygones be bygones, here we are at Thanksgiving 2011 with tons of things to be thankful for, plenty of company to cherish and wonderful home cooked meals to enjoy! What more can one ask for?

So, here's wishing all my friends, dear and near ones, those in the States and even those abroad, a hearty Thanksgiving along with many thanks! Yahooooo!!

The Me I see is the Me I will Be...

2011-11-21T11:31:00.004-05:00

My very first blog post was written exactly two years ago on 20-Nov-2009. Hats off to Google Blogger and my blog world friends for making my joy full and my life complete by allowing me to share traces of my past, moments of my present, dreams of my future and joy of my life. Thank you!

Now, here's my very first blog post...

Dear All: Thank you for stopping by! I am all excited as this has been my long time desire to be a blogger and now I am!!

Let me first introduce myself. I am Me and I love being Me. I especially love my name Hephzibah as it means "God's Delight" in Hebrew. I mostly feel that way. I recently came across a saying, "Jesus Loves You; But I am His Favorite". This fits my fancy perfectly...

I love to write and have written few articles in my journal since childhood; though hardly a few eyes have seen it. I love to write letters to friends/family when they least expect it - to cheer them up. I love to read too.

I love the rain, the sun, the stars, the sea, the trees, the butterflies, the doves, the snow, the lilies, most people, all friends, some movies, My God, my Machan, my children, need I say more?! I honestly love the life God has blessed me with. It is beautiful, it is mesmerizing, it is fantastic.... I am an optimist - try to be.

I love the fresh air, the quietness, the colorful birds & the scenic beauty of our back yard. I love lying in our deck looking at the bare summer skies and counting the stars as they come by...

I love the moon when it appears so close that it feels you might stretch your arm and touch it in an instant.

I love the night lights as you drive down a mountain, the chimney smoke as you drive early mornings.

I love the two swans in Lake Denmark and the gentle noise of running water.

I love the thundering Niagara - especially watching it from the huge hot air balloon.

I love chestnuts, persimmons, green dates and jack fruits.

Above all I love the feeling God loves me and I am His Delight! I do not waver my thoughts on other possibilities. I believe truly that the Me I see is the Me I will Be...

Thanks for your time to look at Me.

Dear Mangala!

2011-11-19T19:48:00.002-05:00

Dear Mangala! I am so excited to be writing to you! Let me first wish you a very happy birthday and many happy returns!

I am sure you have made big plans for the day. Whether you are celebrating it with lot of friends or just keeping it to your family, here's wishing you lot of fun and abundance of love around.

It's funny when our kids were little we had come up an unwritten rule that each child gets that many number of gifts according to their birthday number. But now that the older two are in two digits (12 and 10 respectively) we had to add an amendment to our rule that once the birthday becomes two digits they will get only one gift.

Sharon is not happy about it as she is 10 now and Joshua is only 8. She calls it unfair. How so?! She can't explain it. Since it makes her really upset with tears and all, we have decided to wait for Joshua to turn ten to even put that amended rule to practice, so that all will get only one gift. I know it is not fair for Joshua but I don't think he will even take notice.

One thing I insist on giving as well as receiving is number of kisses for each number of birthdays. If they don't lift their lips, it is still counted as one kiss. They will be out of breath by the time they fully deposit all the kisses properly - up to the last count. Little things like this makes life more interesting and keeps the family together.

Interesting how the birthday letter to you took an altogether different form. I guess it's because I write without filtering my thoughts. Okay then! Let me not take up much of your time. Happy birthday once again! May all your fondest wishes come true! God bless.

Friend always,
~ NRIGirl

Missing Blogger Alert!

2011-11-18T09:07:00.002-05:00

Following bloggers are missing for a while. Few like The Stranger and Baili took leave so we can understand their silence; but these just disappeared without trace. If you can reach out to them great! Let them know the whole blogosphere is looking for them. Finders please inform NRIGirl.You will be $rewarded$!

Blogger: Always Happy, UK

Blog: Dil ki Baat, Blog ke saath

Last seen: 5 May 2011
Last post: Hippy Happy Hoppy Day

Blogger: Mrs. Y Livingston, India
Blog: Jesus, my Lord and my God!
Last seen: 24 July 2011
Last post: One greater than the temple

Blogger: Raji, California
Blog: Why
Last seen: 19 August 2011
Last post: Kailowesome

Blogger: Sanand, Delhi
Blog: Accesslegalcorp
Last seen: 7 September 2011
Last post: Delhi high court blast: Why I disagree with the media's blame game

Blogger: Kavita, Assam
Blog: My Room
Last seen: 29 September 2011
Last Post: Sharadiya Navratri in North East India

Silence of rain

2011-11-16T13:52:00.004-05:00

It's raining here! Not the kind you could sing in or dance
Almost like a mother's tears; Ignored by all and silently shed.

No single bird flies by to wipe the drops of tears that silently roll;

Not even the clouds nor winds to share; there stand the trees still and bare.

Could it be the sun that hides his face or was it the moon overnight;
Whoever caused such pain for the rain, please at once plead her mild.

Whatever happened to the joy she brings? Wherever went the child she thrives?
However hard I try to cheer; shuts down my mind on the silence of rain...

Hard time with hard boiled eggs

2011-11-14T09:35:00.001-05:00

Not sure about you but I have always had tough time making hard boiled eggs. I understand it looks so simple and doesn't seem worthy of a blog post... But only I know what it feels like not being able to make the perfectly smooth hard boiled eggs!

Anytime I intend to make it, I am faced with a dilemma: Should I first boil the water then put the eggs, or put the eggs in the cold water and then bring it to a boil. Either way it has failed me...

Mom says "Count to 100". I have tried counting to 100 and even as much as five times that sometimes. But nope, it won't care. I have let it cool in the same pot or immediately rushed it to the sink for a run of cold water. Neither has helped.

Either it comes out undercooked or cracked or too difficult to de-shell. I would end up using spoons, fork, knife etc to pry open the shell which would result in an unsightly uneven egg.

Once for a summer get together I volunteered to bring hard boiled eggs. I thought it would be a breeze than making an elaborate dish. We had bought 5 dozen eggs and cooked it in 3 or 4 pots. This time I was extra cautious and didn't rush through the process. Gave enough time to cook, cool and clean. Believe it or not, not even a single egg came out with smooth surface!! Worse yet, we were two hours late for the get together ...

I was beginning to shun away from recipes that called for hard boiled eggs. We were satisfied scrambling them or frying them as omelets or bulls-eye... Then I found an egg cooker that perfectly made it for a while - seven at a time. These days it is also giving me a hard time.

Tips for hard boiled eggs anyone?

P.S: This is a repost from August 2010. This is what @A and @Bikram had suggested then.

@A: 1. Take cold water a pan
2. Add salt
3. Add eggs
4. Boil for 20 min

@Bikram:
No high flame!

11/11/11!

2011-11-10T19:01:00.059-05:00

Happy 11/11/11 everyone! I know, it is not yet 11/11/11 on this part of the world. It is only 7:00 PM on 10th Nov here while folks in the Eastern hemisphere are half way through the day already. It is a beautiful night here with the moon shining bright with no stars for company! Hope you all got a chance to look at yours and enjoyed the breeze it brought along.

The day is special for yet another reason. It is Bikram's birthday!! Timing the post in such a way that it gets published on London time 12:01 AM

Also wishing are Amrit , Punam and many others. Happy Birthday Bikram! Many happy returns! Here's a special order cake for your special day!

The Substitute

2011-11-09T09:51:00.002-05:00

The Substitute is an MTV game show where a "substitute professor" walks into a regular class room and conducts a fun quiz game on the spot to the amusement of the unsuspecting students.

The winner walks away with $5,000.

Recently one of our friends' daughter - Margaret - took the prize in NJIT! We are very happy for her. Margaret has a sweet personality, volunteers as an EMT (Emergency Medical Technician) and has a soft corner for aging seniors in nursing homes. She desires to become a doctor some day. We wish her the best for her dreams to come true!

Now, sit back, relax and enjoy the show! The commercials are a little annoying but hope you will stay thru' it. It is a fun game after all!

Rest of the journey

2011-11-08T15:30:00.003-05:00

And so the journey continued... I was sleeping rest of the way. Actually may be I was drowsy as I remember being very hungry at one time. Every now and then when I opened my eyes there were new people in my compartment (remember I was traveling unreserved). I would soon drift back to sleeping - I am sure it wasn't a good sight but I didn't care for it much.

The next scene I remember was the rather interesting conversation I had with some lovely ladies. They were poor but rich in compassion. One of them kind of waited for me to open my eyes and quickly started a conversation. They inquired if I ate anything and when I nodded no someone gave me a plantain - ripe to the right consistency I like it. I was awake now and so I guess my sleeping was to do with my hunger.

No longer hungry I started answering their questions after questions after questions. They wanted to know why I was traveling alone and why I didn't eat anything and where I was coming from and where I was going etc. Interesting part was that they inquired in Malayalam and I answered in Tamil which was understood by both sides. Soon it was their station to get down and few minutes before that itself one lady started asking if she could adopt me as her own child. Ha ha ha! That was when I fully understood the extent of their compassion for me. Somehow they had concluded I had no family. It took a while to convince them I very well had a Mom and Dad and Brother and Sister who loved me their best. I waved them good bye and continued the rest of the journey amusing over the conversation I had had with them.

I was finally home - more than three days after my departure from Bangalore! When I got refreshed I started sharing about the adventures of the journey with my family and of course I had to start from the very beginning, how just like that my friends decided to leave for home since college was closed and how I too decided to tag along etc etc.

Rolling back to all the way from leaving from hostel I recalled how we took an auto rickshaw to reach the local train station from where we took a train to Bangalore main station. One detail I could have avoided but did not - caused a great deal of eruption from Papa. He was so upset that he started SCREAMING and YELLING and I ended up in tears. What for?!

Well, the auto rickshaw had stopped on the wrong side of the station and we had to cross the railway tracks to go to the other side to board our train. I was dragging my heavy luggage and slowly moving while my friends had already crossed over with their lighter loads.

What I didn't notice nor expected was a train coming on one of the tracks. A man at the platform screamed "TRAIN! TRAIN!" and I turned to see and there it was a MONSTROUS train looming around the bent corner - just a few yards away from where I was!!

I had to act quickly. Not sure which track the train was actually on I ran across all the tracks towards the station still carrying my luggage. My friends looking over in horror and screaming, this man hurrying me with an outstretched arm, the train roaring closer I reached the platform.

Just as the man pulled me off the tracks on to the platform the train thundered down the lane!! Our faces were pale, hearts seemed to have stopped while the limbs went weak and the surroundings appeared frozen that very moment which seemed like eternity. Still!

Gathering up the luggage, finding my sandals, friends to my support, still shaking I thanked the man and he was shaking too! No wonder hearing that Papa was shaking too! If I had been better at narrating the incident, you would be too!!

The End!

How is he? Where is he? What is he?

2011-11-04T08:50:00.005-04:00

The year was 1992. I was a student then traveling unreserved from Bangalore to Tirunelveli via Cochin. I know it is a long route but then it is a looo..ng story too. I was wearing a beautiful pink chudidhar with grey prints on it with a black bottom and a blacker dhuppattah; I remember it because it was my travel favorite; comfortable, covered and yet stylish! Had very limited funds at hand - barely enough to survive my three days long journey. Three days? From Bangalore to Tirunelveli? Yes, I told you it is a looo..ng story!

There was a strike going on between Karnataka and TamilNadu and no buses were running between the states; so I decided to take the train via Kerala. Was it a smart idea? Hardly so. First of all, I had never done that before. So had no clue what route it would go, what connections I should take, how long it would take, how much it would cost, none of that. Secondly every one had similar plans it seemed like. Bangalore station was FULL! Full to the rim and overflowing! Only at the station I am deciding which train I should take. Since I didn't know anything, my Cochin friends suggested I go with them upto Cochin and then from there I could go home. Of course, I could if only I knew what was next. Anyways, we went and bought a ticket - upto Tirunelveli, via wherever, who cares; the destination was home!

So where were we? Yes on the train! The journey had started with a lot of company in a very crowded train. It was so packed that we were only sitting on our suitcases for a long time. However soon (may be after 8 hours) we got seats. Sooner it was time to wave off my friends. Here I am all alone in the compartment, with no friends and only scattered passangers. Did I tell you I had limited funds at hand? Actually I was exaggerating. I had no funds at all! My ticket was all paid for but since the journey took a day or two longer than expected my funds at hand had dried up. All I had was a guava; a very memorable guava at that! A very cherished one too. Juicey and crispy just the way I like it. My heart was content.

Don't recall which station the train had stopped at. But I remember it was somewhere in Tamilnadu as the boards and ads were in Tamil. Just as the train pulled off I decided to dig into the guava I had. The train was off the platform and slowly moving. That's when I saw this little boy outside who came running towards the train.

His clothes were dirty and his face only dirtier. He came running to my window and said, "Akka! Akka! Please give me something. I am very hungry. It has been three days since I ate anything". Sure, he looked hungry. I wanted to help him; feed him, clean him up, put him in a school, raise him with us, all these thoughts flashed in my mind. But I didn't have anything to give; told you already!

I felt miserable. I told him, "Sorry! I don't have anything." He persisted, "Akka! Please-ka. Anything ka. Something ka..." I said, "I am honest thambi. I really don't have anything to spare you". For whatever reason the train had stopped at the trailing end, making me more miserable having to argue with a hungry little boy.

He looked sad. I felt even sadder. Looked in my purse, pouch, luggage zipper and everywhere to see if I can find at least some coins to give him. Alas, none! The train was almost moving. I frantically continued my search for a coin, looking under the seats, over the seats, in between the seats to see if I could find one out of nowhere. None! Not even one! Pity!

I was just hoping he would move on to another compartment with "richer" people. He wouldn't budge. I was almost in tears and he seemed so too. Then suddenly he pointed at the guava in my hand and said, "Can I please have it?". I responded, "This? I don't think so. I have bitten it already!" He insisted, "It is okay akka. Please give it akka. Asking you like my own sister akka. Please give it."

I just reluctantly gave it to him the last minute as the train moved on. I could see him eating the guava with such a glee. I kept staring in that direction with tears in my eyes even long after the scene had rolled. After all these years, with life speeding away in such a frenzy, amidst my busy day, I can still recall the scene as fresh as it was just yesterday.

How is he? Where is he? What is he? My mind ponders. Before it gets heavy again, I tell myself he made it in life - a big man now, loved much, lacking nothing, having his kids in school! I honestly believe so. Wish him so...

P.S: How the hungry me finally reached home, that's a whole another story; I will save it for later!

At the water cooler

2011-11-02T16:06:00.006-04:00

It is a Bible college in Kerala. She was washing her hands at the water cooler and the guy next to her did not like that. She continued to go about her business ignoring his comments of objection as he kept staring at her. Though she felt a little intimidated she did not show it. He suddenly realized that he actually liked this girl who was apparently fearless. Right away he fell in love with her - head over heels! She cared the least and would not oblige.

He was a Pentecost, handsome, neither of them were married, seemed to have the same calling, parents wouldn't object and there was no apparent reason why she would reject him. He kept asking her to consider him and there seemed no valid answer she could give him. He insistsed she come and meet his friends later that day.

The friends, two young married couples were cheerful, lively and welcome her as one of them. He was very happy, way too nice and seemed full of joy. She wanted to make things straight from the beginning. So she told his friends it was nothing like they imagined and that she was not interested in him. They spoke up for him, recommending him and pleading her to consider him.

Just as she was contemplating what to do next the alarm went off and she woke up with a startle realizing it was all just a dream!

Point to note, she never went to a Bible college, never had such an encounter, never knew these people, never watched/heard of a similar scene in a movie or elsewhere. Why this dream out of the blue she has no clue. Do you?

New November

2011-11-01T11:34:00.003-04:00

There is something about new months that makes me bubbly; not just November, any given month. Here's wishing you all a very happy November 2011! Hard to believe we are in the last lapse of the year 2011.

Yesterday was Halloween. It was fun to see neighborhood kids dressed up as different monsters and animals and fairies come knocking at the door saying, "Trick or Treat!" The cutest was a baby elephant with chocolate smudges all over his/her face. I wish I had taken a picture to show you all.

Halloween is a pagan ritual which is not encouraged in our children's school but they wished to go trick or treating in the last minute. So they made up costumes like pirates and doctor and went knocking at a few doors.

November is unique in NJ in the sense that the old things give way to new. The trees shed their leaves and homes their junk and some their weight to be prepared for the much celebrated Thanksgiving feast. It kind of makes me sad to see the trees become bare but then soon snow covers them to bring back some joy.

This year surprisingly we got the snowfall earlier than expected. We had a heavy downpour over the weekend causing downed trees and power loss across the state. In fact my children's school is closed for the second day in a row. Hopefully things will be back to normal soon.

Chestnuts are in. It is one snack we look forward to during this time of the year. I have figured out an easy way to roast it in the microwave. All it takes is 2 1/2 minutes for a tempting treat!

Every year we host Thanksgiving - gathering a few friends, roasting a turkey. But this year I am tired of even thinking about it. May be as the day gets closer I might get charged up, but for now it seems impossible.

Soon it will be Christmas and I am not looking forward to it either. I hate to spend Christmas alone by ourselves and I do not feel up to hosting either. The only option it leaves us with is to do some traveling. We are thinking of ideas; let's see how it turns out.

Why am I telling you all this? Well, what else friends are for? Happy November once again! Looking forward to plenty of posts from you all this new month.

The Affair

2011-10-27T11:13:00.003-04:00

He has been busy lately - ever since assuming higher responsibilities under a new role at work. He hardly calls during the day and when she calls he would be to the point. Arriving home, he would quickly change and log back into work and continue till mid night or even beyond.

The occasional moments when he is not in front of his computer, he talks about work and only work. For a week or two she didn't mind it but now that it is about two months she was beginning to be concerned.

When she brought up the subject his crisp answer was, "Lot more to be done to set the process before I can relax." No one is after him or anything. It is just his own process. He can take his time. Why hurry then?

He says if he sets his expectations from the beginning it will be easier to run the team rather than letting them continue what mess they are in and worry about clean up later. Okay good enough; how long it would take for him to set the process? "Until December!", he answered. That made her worry even more.

Life was smooth otherwise - until all of a sudden she thought of the unthinkable. Never before & never after but that day it occurred to her: What if?! Head spinning, heart racing, breath quickening she picked up the phone and speed dialed him.

Him: "Hello Mone!"
Her: "Mmm... hello... are you busy?"
Him: "Yes! just about to get into a meeting. What's up?"
Her: "Nothing..."
Him: "Are you okay?"
Her: "Mmm... Are you having an affair?"
Him: "Yes!" (her heart stops!)
Him: "With you!" (beats again!!)

Sure, that made her day. She went for a fresh walk, came back and cooked some and they lived happily ever after!

Chocolate & Jack fruit

2011-10-25T17:09:00.010-04:00

I found it interesting how a children's book author Pseudonymous Bosch describes chocolate in his book This book is not good for you. Sharing it below...

"Rich, ripe, dark, deep, zippy, zesty, wicked, wonderful, delicious, delightful, delectable, and even electable (if he could vote), vibrant, vivacious, seductive, addictive, oh so very attractive, nourishing, flourishing, rather ravishing, beautiful, buttery, sometimes bittersweet but never bitter, gorgeous and worth gorging on, berry-ish, cherry-ish, meaty yet fruity, elemental yet complex, mellow yet electric, soothing yet energizing, earthly yet heavenly, melt-in-your-mouth pleasure of chocolate."

Let me try to describe one of my favorites - jack fruit:

Ripe, sweet, juicy, huge, dense, thick, thin, delicious, mouth watering, sweet smelling, rich, flavorful, beautiful, crunchy, chewy, crispy, very yummy, tasty, yellow, mellow jack fruit!

Okay I give up! I couldn't think of anything more...

Now how would you describe chocolate or jack fruit or any of your favorites? Give it a try! It will be fun...

The joy of art

2011-10-22T15:05:00.000-04:00

After a lo..ng time I got to do some art. Here's sharing my joy with you all...

Poster colors on canvas. Size: 2 1/2 X 2 1/2"

Tree

House

Ocean

Night sky

Under our banana tree!

2011-10-19T17:25:00.011-04:00

Welcome!

Since I work from home these days I don't get to meet people on a daily basis. Hence I thought I would invite you all in.

Welcome to my "corner office" which is a tiny 6 X 10 room off of our kitchen. It was supposedly a laundry room as per the original plan, but since we moved the laundry upstairs I could use it as my study.

This is where I spend a good ten hours of my waking life. Shown as is... I am glad it is less messier than other times...

Can you spot Sharon's skirt? It is awaiting my attention to sew on a button. It has been weeks since she handed it over to me and I haven't got to it yet.

The problem is, I can't find a spare button to use... If you've got one, would you care to share?

One benefit of working from home is that I do actually change the date in the calendar! :)

The Tamil letters read, "Surely blessing I will bless you, and multiplying I will multiply you" a Bible verse from Hebrews 6:14

Now, don't get me started on any of these books. Though I work from home I hardly find time for reading at leisure. That brown hard bound book with a string you see? - that is the treasure find I often share from. Example: What is a Boy?, What is a Girl?, My Last Will and Testament, etc.

The Arrow Writers Handbook is a garage sale find and it is so tiny that I can probably finish it in less than 15 minutes, but still haven't had the time to go through it.

For those of you puzzled by my title, let me explain I have got a banana tree for company!

Israel is a huge fan of eating on banana leaf and so when we saw one in the store this summer he bought it! Israel and kids have enjoyed many meals on the leaves already.

Now that the cold weather is setting in, it is a big dilemma if it will survive the winter.

In an attempt to save it I have moved it to my room which gets ample sunlight throughout the day. Will keep you guys posted at the end of the season on it's well being.

Knick knacks are my fancy and the easiest place to showcase them is on the window sil. The pinecones in the background are place settings from my friend's wedding party. That teeny tiny fur puppy is the closest I can get to a dog in this life, as Israel is against owning pets.... :(

My treasure basket full of Where is Waldo and Better Homes and Garden magazines - which I briefly browse thru' during downtime.

My abandoned office bag and the earlier purse I was using. The wood thing is actually a shelf, patiently awaiting installation by Israel.

Why blame him, it is high time I learn to use some of these hardware tools; so let me give it a try.

So long!

So, that's it! We are done with the tour of my little space where I connect from.

Thank you for joining me today and hope you are not in a hurry to leave; please stay a while longer... we'll have some tea!

P.S: The pictures are all clickable, for a better view.

Swing

2011-10-18T09:05:00.007-04:00

In Grandma's house there was a swing - a wooden board tied on ropes to a strong Neam branch. We would take turns to play on it and I am sure I enjoyed it the most. I went back to it again and again even when no one else was interested.

Sitting on the board pulling it slightly back, kicking with the feet to get the momentum for take off... then on every return to kick it harder and harder again to go further and further away in the skies... wow! nothing can compare to the sheer joy it brought to me as a child!

When we started our family the very first thing we bought for our home was the swing set. Whenever I thank Israel for marrying me (yes I do thank him), the first thing that comes to my mind is that he got me my very own swing set. No, I haven't told him that and unless he reads this post he never will know; he thinks we bought it for the children. Whether our babies played on it or not I loved to play on it every single day. It was a routine for a looo..ng time until life got busy.

These days just looking at the swing set through the window gives me the same joy as and when I was playing on it. It seems kind of like my own magic carpet waiting for my orders to take me places. So when the talk came up among my kids to get rid off the swing set now that they are bigger, I stomped my foot (in my mind) and said it stays! The reason I gave was, "One can never get older for a swing".

Swinging makes me a child again - carefree and let lose to conquer the world and if possible the skies riding on the winds with or without my wings!

Story time!

2011-10-15T12:27:00.002-04:00

Rachel has been busy these days - she is writing a story. I like what she has written so far and got her permission to share it. Posted as is... Rachel is 12; attends 7th Grade.

Untitled - By Rachel Israel

How would you like to be made really famous just for talking about someone’s life? Like, just for writing a ~~stupid~~ story about some-little-nobody’s life. That is what I’m doing, but it isn’t the easiest thing to do. In fact, I feel like I’m embarrassing her in front of the world, (TOO BAD) but somewhere deep down inside, I’m trying to protect that little-nobody by writing this story. If I write this story nobody will think she exists, and overall, I’ll win. :)

Or if you decide to doubt my words, I’m OK. For all you care, I could be writing this just for the sake of entertainment. But between you and me, this book is deadly in its own way. It could be a lie or even worse, the truth.

#1

I walked along the streets of New York as fast as I could. I went from block to block searching for IT. IT wouldn’t be very important to most people but to me, it was. I was abandoned, friendless, and alone. I was on the most dangerous mission of my life. My mission was to find Jezebel. Jezebel was so nice but her evil thoughts were so obvious. I knew I shouldn’t have befriended her. I should’ve seen it coming but as keen as I was, I had failed to sense it and in turn she betrayed me.

I raced past another Dunkin Donuts and when I smelled the brewing coffee, and that is what really woke me up. I realized where IT could really be. After I had narrowed it down to a smaller number, I set out to find IT. As I was getting faster and faster by the moment I turned around. Just for that time I had seemed to lose my mannerly actions. Then I gave out a sharp cry as I bumped into the last person that I would expect to see, Jezebel.

#2

I was very shocked to see Jezebel here. I hoped that she wouldn’t recognize me the same way I had recognized her. Before she looked up, I blew wisps of my silky brown bangs in front of my eyes and pulled my head down just in case she did happen to notice me.

Before I continue, Why are my eyes covered you might ask. I have the most recognizable eyes that you would have ever seen. If you tried to forget it, you wouldn’t be able to. It’s scary, I know. I’m trying not to get my eyes noticed by many people. Just for the record, in case you see Jezebel; don’t tell her you saw a brown-haired girl with blue eyes tinted the lightest shade of purple or in other words, me.

I kept on walking after my encounter with Jezebel. If I saw her here then maybe just maybe there’s a chance that IT’s here too. As I was looking for IT every second that passed by made me feel more rushed. I felt the darkness of Jezebel’s schemes closing in on me. It seemed inevitable.

Thinking back on my first encounters with Jezebel I wonder, was she still looking for me or did she get over it yet? Jezebel was last seen by The AGENCY members saw her was at very big fire. When the AGENCY heard that she got out they told us all to run. After all we were the people who “ruined” her life.

#3

I’ve been running for about two months literally! I’m roaming the streets of New York. I’ve passed Jezebel once already in this big city. Will this be it? Is this the only clue I get? As I was inquiring myself, a rather rare object caught my attention.

I stood in the middle of a zebra-patterned road. “5…4…” the lights flashed, cars seemed to screaming “Get out of the way!”

I stood in front of the cars as the light were blinking its last numbers. I grabbed the oddest looking piece of glass. It resembled a heart and it had many corners and edges. The glass was also tinted green.

I ran across the street just in time. I stood at the end of the street marveling at the piece of glass, “This must be it!” I said to myself. I kept it in my pocket. Little did I know that it was blinking like a tracking device. No, wait! It was a tracking device.

Across the street in an alley stood a young business man he pressed a few buttons on his phone then in his dreary monotonous voice said, “She has taken the bait.” A smile crept onto the man’s face but he quickly wiped it off, and he continued to nonchalantly carry his briefcase. When he turned around the corner, just as if you had turned a light off, he vanished.

... to be continued

Head over heart

2011-10-11T11:59:00.004-04:00

Last couple of days I wasn't myself. I was thinking more with my head and not with my heart. This was very strange for me. Didn't like it a bit.

Even in my prayers the head came in between; the words appeared to come from the head and not much the heart. It was kind of void of any feelings or true meaning.

Anyways, I am back to my normal self today as I don't hear much of my head in the background anymore. This comes as a huge relief. This softens me! Helps me breath better! I can now feel more and reason less.

Noticed that head-heavy made me proud and heart-heavy makes me not. Head reasoned 'why should I' and the heart ponders 'why shouldn't I'. Head defends; heart accepts. Head was stubborn; heart is fluid.

I wonder what causes the shift between head vs. heart and how do we balance them both?

Googled articles mostly refer to relationships and talk about emotional vs. logical people. But what I am talking about here is, nothing specific, just in general, when or why our head overtakes the heart or vice versa.

Can you relate to anything similar? Thought I would check with you...

To make the short story long...

2011-10-06T22:04:00.004-04:00

Conversations with my children these days are extremely "interesting" as they go about in elongated routes to explain every little details in their stories and every little bumps and hiccups that occurred. I better have a solid hour or two in hand before attempting to get an answer to a simple question.

An innocent "how was lunch?" could result in everything from the crowded microwave to a stolen chicken piece to some one's spilled lunch. The gym experience you would regret the moment you asked, it would go on and on and on - who got hurt, who lost their tooth, who cried, who got a tally, who pushed who, and then what happened... it is endless.

Today Sharon brought home a cast of a seashell she had made from plaster of paris to understand how fossils are formed. It was a non-stop narration of how she made it - not dismissing any single detail in between as irrelevant, a good quarter hour she went! No, I am not exaggerating.

I don't mind it at all! In fact I truly enjoy listening to their narration of the day's event. But what bothers me is that they demand undivided attention while they speak. How is it even possible when all of them speak at once?

The slightest distraction results in an abrupt shutdown and immediate withdrawal and retreat to their rooms. It would be more time consuming when they finally return to continue the story - after my heavy begging and pleading... It drains me out at times; what am I to do?

Wait a minute; I think I see the problem! Have I not made a short story long by this very post?! And you didn't even ask... I guess I can't blame the children then...

Life is like that...

2011-10-04T21:59:00.003-04:00

Have you met Deeps? If not, here's a rare information about him - come closer... shhh... He is from Mars!

True! How do I know that? Of course from his blogger profile page!

However, looking at his picture we can't really say that, can we? I guess instead of speculating further we will leave it upto him to explain...

"Beginning from somewhere and ends nowhere ... that fraction in-between...is that life?", inquires Deeps. Is that?

Deep's Life's like that is unique from other blogs - in that he normally writes a mini post as one big long sentence, or at least that's what it feels like. Not that punctuations are missing; it's just that I try to read it in one stretch - mostly ending up out of breath and going back to read it at a slow pace all over again letting it slowly sink in!

Deeps is also an author! Infibeam lists at least four of his works; however these are flagged as 'out of stock' right now. Hopefully Deeps can keep us posted on their availability for purchase.

Deeps is surely one of my favorite bloggers as his posts make me think... Interesting how just like Deep's posts this one too has turned out short! No, it was not intentional :)

A son shares about his Mom - A post by Israel

2011-10-03T12:26:00.006-04:00

It has been almost a year since my mom passed away. I take this opportunity to share a few words about my Mom and the legacy she has left behind...

My mother Mrs. Santhoshamani Thavasikani was married to my father Mr. Thavasikani when she was 16 years of age! They both migrated to Bombay to start their family. We were seven children of 3 girls and 4 boys in all, myself being number six, the second last.

When we were all still very young, due to some family situation my father had to move back to our native place in Tirunelveli. He took the two older children with him while my mother had to raise the rest of us alone in Bombay. She was running a small grocery shop and my father would send in additional financial support from his farming back home.

I was truly blessed by my Mom. She was my spiritual role model and leader who led by example. She taught us how to trust in the Lord, how to serve the Lord & community and how to be faithful in the Lord.

She encouraged me in so many ways. When I was a child I had never seen my mom sleeping; she would be praying when I went to bed at night and would be still in prayers when I woke up. I am sure she went to bed in between; but to my little mind she appeared to be praying nonstop.

When I was about 12 years of age, I had boils on my body; I had this for many days. My school was about to start in couple of days, but I could not wear pants or shirts because of the boils. If I wore any clothes it would stick to my skin and would cause more damage to the skin while attempting to remove them. I was very sad that I could not make to school on the first day which was merely two days away.

My mom applied coconut oil and prayed over me, she was in tears for hours. Miraculously the next day all the boils dried up and I was able to make it to the first day of school! Praise God!

I was an "outstanding" student in school. Of course outstanding because my teacher would make me stand outside the class for disobeying her or not doing the homework or not getting good grades in exams or for bullying. When I came home,my elder sister Paul who was also my tuition teacher would plead with me to learn atleast one question & answer. Having pity on her I learnt a few.

My favorites were Maths, Science & Arts. I was very bad in Languages & History. Everyone(except my MOM) would scold me that I would be never successful in my life and that I was dumb & slow and that if I didn’t study I would have to beg for bread in my life.

My mom used to read me the biography of Thomas Alva Edison, and she encouraged me saying, "Even Edison was slow, but turned out be the smartest person ever known. My son would also become like him."

My mother was the making of me. She was so true, so sure of me, and I felt I had someone to live for, someone I must not disappoint.So I started focusing on studies and finally I was able to complete my Bachelors degree in Chemistry followed by an Aptech diploma in Computer Science.

My dream was to build a home for my Mom and provide everything that she ever wanted or needed and to see her happy. I was able to fulfill most of them but not all as she passed away soon. I am reminded of the fact that she lives in a better place.

I am truly blessed by my Mom's prayers and encouraging words. I owe it to God Almighty first, and next to my Mom for what I am today...

The king I was

2011-09-28T14:43:00.003-04:00

"Long long ago, very long ago, nobody knows how long ago, there lived a King!" was the best opening sentence in my favorite stories as a child. I could immediately visualize the king in all his glory sitting on a beautiful thrown next to his beautiful queen, or on his beautiful horse just about to go out to war, etc.

Then came the day when I became a king! I was nine years old then; studying 5th grade in St. Joseph's convent, Tirunelveli. I was made king for our school play. It was an interesting story how I got the role. It was a co-ed class and of course many boys were tall and strong fit to be a king but they couldn't memorize the long portions of the text the king had to talk and so ultimately they chose me to be the king!

It was an honor I so willingly accepted however, I was very shy about the moustache. When I raised my concern and said I would like to be a king without moustache, it only made the cast members and the staff laugh out loud. They convinced me saying moustache is the second best accessory for a king, only next to his crown. So there I was against my will, a king with moustache!

I had no problem memorizing my texts however I couldn't do the kingly laughter. The staff member who tried her best finally gave up and decided on an alternative solution that she would laugh from behind the scenes and I just had to move my mouth. Well then, that was settled.

Next problem was the king had to put 'his' arms around two 'men' and say something cheerful. I was so embarrassed to put my arms around fellow classmates who were boys. The boys were shy too. But since there was no way around it, we settled for it.

Mom's silk sarees were ordered in to make the royal robe and of course some golden paper, plastic gems and glue produced the impeccable 'crown'. Soon the rehearsals were over and it was the final play.

The entire neighborhood had gathered in our school grounds that night. The king was made ready with the royal diadem and the kingly attire and not to forget the moustache - a thick big moustache that even rolled up in the ends, drawn on the upper lip. Couple of parents who saw me behind the scenes complimented my looks and also my moustache in particular.

The show began. The king played well not forgetting any lines and even helping the soldiers with theirs. The scene for the roaring royal laughter was next. The king began to feel a little nervous and anxiously waited for the timing of the laughter and moved 'his' lips and alas no laughter came. The king tried again and no laughter to be heard. The nervous king looked hither and thither and the whole cast was lost.

Just then the thunderous laughter came over the speakers but this time the king forgot to move the lips. It's just that the director behind the scenes had missed the timing. The audience had a hearty laugh to the dismay of the poor king. It was curtain call!

The king became alright in the dance break in between and got back 'his' courage to go back on stage. All roles played out picture perfect. There was a scene where the king had to order someone to be taken to the gallows. This proud king ordered, "Take ME to the gallows" instead of 'take him to the gallows'. Once again the crowd was thrilled and it took a long time for their laughter to stop. The king absolutely had no clue why everyone was laughing. (got to know only after the show..).

Finally the show ended. Back stage where everyone changed out of their costumes the king refused to erase off 'his' moustache as he had come to like it much. Also he had plans to show it off to family members who had skipped the function altogether.

All the way back home the king was just basking in glory. The first thing 'he' did arriving home was to run to check in the mirror. To his horror the moustache was melting in the sweat and heat and looked nowhere close to what he had imagined. Poor king went to bed sad that night disappointed 'his' moustache was no more. It took a while for the king to finally get over it.

The End!

So what was the story when you were the king? Care to share?

Her Room

2011-09-27T12:05:00.004-04:00

It hasn't been long since I first visited her, but I could connect with Kavita Saharia at once! She is one of my favorites and I am big fan of not just her blogs but also her personality - a down to earth, charming, energetic personality - one I can relate to - to some extent, admire - to a great extent and wish to meet in person - God willing.

Kavita hails from Assam and her blog is titled 'My Room' and that is exactly what it is - her room. You can see pictures from her travels, meet her friends, get to know her family and learn about local legends we have never heard of in the South!

She makes one feel comfortable in her room and no wonder her blog followers are growing in astronomical numbers - over three hundred and counting!

From her frequently updated blogs and travel snapshots it might seem hard to believe Kavita has a day job too! Yes, she does! She is a Dental Surgeon by occupation and still makes room in her busy schedule to connect with us through her blogs, which is much appreciated.

I strongly encourage all my friends to visit Kavita and make friends with her if possible. You will be lost in the beautiful jungles of Meghalaya and the simplicity of Assam in no time. Only thing to keep in mind is 'take' enough minutes with you when you go. It will be long before you are back to your chores as her blog just consumes you! It is a good place to be after all!

Hello! How are you?

2011-09-27T09:31:00.004-04:00

Hello! How's everyone doing? Fine here and wish the same.

Did I tell you, I am working again? Yes, this is week two! A work from home opportunity initially for a year but could go on. I am beginning to love it.

Children are thrilled to have me home when they return from school; Israel too is enjoying the freshly cooked dinner and I am happy that I get my hour of walking every day. So it works best for all of us. Now that I get ample time at hand I try new walking routes in our neighborhood which is very exciting.

The kitchen ants are thriving. Israel happened to read my post about them, and now blames me for their growing population. He is all set to rid them off. Even if by chance I leave a food particle on the counter top unattended he looks at me suspiciously; and if an ant runs by he looks to see if I smash it. If I don't, children rush to take care of it. It's like all against me and and my ants! :(

Coffee with Jesus turns a year old this week and I am celebrating it with a coffee mug give away. Let me know if you would like one.

Here in the East Coast we are counting down to colder days that we hardly let go of any sunny days unnoticed. However since I am tied up in a training for the next couple of weeks no weekend outings are planned. I try to make the best use of the sun during my daily walks - making the routes longer each day.

Okay folks! I really didn't have much to say. Just wanted to say hello. Take care all of you!

Friend always,
~ NRIGirl

Last will and Testament by Charles Lounsbury

2011-09-21T11:25:00.008-04:00

This is something I read in the book 'The Treasure Chest' - a library find; loved it much that I wanted to share...

I, Charles Lounsbury, being of sound and disposing mind and memory, do hereby make and publish this, my last will and testament in order, as justly as may be, to distribute my interests in the world among succeeding men.

That part of my interest, which is known in law and recognized in the sheep-bound volumes as my property, being inconsiderable and none account, I make no disposition in this, my will. My right to live, being but a life estate, is not at my disposal, but these things excepted, all else in the world I now proceed to devise and bequeath.

ITEM: I give to good fathers and mothers and trust to their children all good little words of praise and encouragement and all quaint pet names and endearments. And I charge said parents to use them judiciously or generously as the deeds of their children shall require.

ITEM: I leave to children inclusively, but only for the duration of their childhood, all and every flower of the fields and the blossoms of the woods. And I devise to children the banks of the brooks and the golden sands beneath the water thereof and the odors of the willows that dip therein and the white clouds that float on high above the giant trees. And I leave the children the long, long days to be merry in a thousand ways, and the night, and the trail of the Milky Way to wonder at; but subject, nevertheless, to the rights hereinafter given to lovers.

ITEM: To lovers I devise their imaginary world filled with the stars of the skies and the red roses by the walks, the bloom of the hawthorne and the sweet strains of music and ought else that they may desire to figure to each other the lastingness and the beauty of their love.

ITEM: I bequeath the power to have lasting friendships, the capacity for courage, and undaunted faith.

ITEM: To our loved ones with snowy crowns, I leave memory, the peace and happiness of old age, and the love and gratitude of their children before they fall asleep.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
P.S: On doing some further research I understand this was a fictional will drafted by Williston Fish, an attorney in Chicago. In the year 1897, he hit upon the idea of a perfect will and upon a wealthy, nonexistent client named Charles Lounsbury.

The will that Williston Fish had written found its way into print for the 1st time the year after it was created. It appeared in Harper's Weekly on September 3, 1898. It was picked up and reprinted widely. But in recent years, it has been forgotten.

He is a cop; He is a blogger; He is Bikramjit Mann!

2011-09-15T16:18:00.003-04:00

The next one on my FavBlog list is not really a blog as such but the person behind the blog "Me and My Random Thoughts". Bikram is a blogger, a cop, an IT pro all in one!

Originally from Punjab Bikram is now settled in the proximity of London. He is a great person to get to know who is loyal to his friends online and offline alike.

Bikram shares a lot about childhood, college days, grandma, sports, politics, folklore, you name it! Whatever be your interest he has got it covered!

One thing you will notice right away is that he just speaks his mind out, aptly justifying his blog title. He doesn't hide his emotions which I believe is a down-to-earth quality. Next thing you will notice is the truck loads of comments he receives within minutes of posting, which shows he is much loved among his blogger circle.

There are too many favorite posts that it is hard for me to pick one to showcase from his blog. However, here's a picture I definitely want to show off. Bikram's picture on the 'Support your police' flyer. Isn't that cool? You may click on the picture to read the post relevant to that!)

Now think about that for a minute! How many of us want to become cops in a foreign country? Not too many I guess; at least not me. Just the fact that he is one, shows how much he cares for his local community and how much he wants to serve. Don't you think?

Bikram is surely one of the friends I do want to meet in person; he sure feels like a childhood friend. If you know him keep visiting. If you don't, please check him out...

Great Blogger & Story Teller - KParthasarathy!

2011-09-14T08:16:00.002-04:00

I always admire people who can write fiction. How is it that they can imagine a personality, set the scene, bring about a dialogue, and finally affect your emotions one way or another?!

To reiterate something that happened doesn't require great skills; but to make up a story from nothing surely requires a lot. For the very same reason I admire KParthasarathy.

If you have ever visited Random Thoughts or மனதில் தோன்றியது or Reflections then you have met KParthasarathy already! You would agree he is a great blogger with great stories to tell.

KP hails from Chennai but visits his daughter in the US. He has helped me connect with a lot of great bloggers out there - Deeps, Chitra and Dr. Saravanan to name a few.

KP's 55 words stories are my favorites in his Random Thoughts. His Tamil stories are also very popular among readers. He sets the stage and takes you to the scene where the story unwraps right in front of your own eyes. His Reflections are thought provoking inspirations which helps look at things from different perspective; teaching a lesson or two on the way.

If I were to pick one post out of his three blogs that I like the best I would say it is: Learn to cultivate your own garden. There is clearly a 'Before' and 'After' me, after reading this post.

KP is special in the sense that he is the only blog world friend I have ever spoken to - over the phone! He has been a great friend frequently sharing inspiring emails, interesting tidbits and why not recently some mouth watering recipes too. These little gestures I truly appreciate.

Check him out yourself when you have a moment; I am sure you will not be disappointed!

"Common" sense?

2011-09-12T13:22:00.004-04:00

"Hephzibah! It is common sense!" lectures Israel from time to time; that is to put it mildly, to say his tone has become increasingly impatient would be closer to the reality.

The latest incident happened yesterday when I thought it was a smart idea to warm up rasam in the glass pot on the stove top, while reheating other items on the microwave. My idea was that both would be done at the same time.

But to my shock just when I used a ladle to mix up the rasam the pot exploded sending shredded pieces of glass all over. Thank God, none of us got hurt. Israel had to rush in and rescue me from the mounting clean up work following that; I am so very grateful for that!

Another time early in our marriage Israel had asked me to clean a table fan while he was away at work. Gladly I obliged, taking it to the bath tub, standing it tall and turning on the shower head. Within minutes it was sparkling clean but alas it had stopped working in the process. Israel couldn't hold back his bewilderment at the "smartness" of his new bride and had to blurt out, "It is just common sense!" Is it?

Not to forget I once left my phone "charging" in the car while I was at work not realizing that the charger in the car is meant to work only when the car is on. Another time apparently I had fed the parking meter next to my car not knowing that my meter was the one on the right hand side of my car; thus getting a parking violation ticket on return as my meter had no funds. "How am I supposed to know?!" is my only defense during times like this.

Growing up when asked in school what caste we were I had proudly answered "Israelites!" (As in Sunday school I had learnt Israelites were the children of God). Then there are incidents I am not at liberty to share as it would embarrass us all.

Let me ask you one thing, is common sense that common?

Where were we on 9/11?

2011-09-10T23:33:00.012-04:00

Tomorrow marks the tenth anniversary of the 9/11 tragedy here in the United States; which makes me ponder over where we were ten years ago on that fateful day...

I had just reached work and called in Israel to convey I had arrived safely in office. It was a customary habit we had been accustomed to.

I went and grabbed myself a cup of coffee and was just about to login when Israel called back with a kind of panic in his voice - "Mone! A plane just flew in to one of the world trade center towers!" and suggested I go watch the news. Within minutes he called again with the news of the second plane hitting the second tower.

Just then I heard similar hustle bustle among my colleagues and everybody rushed to the conference room where CNN was playing in the big screens. The first tower had collapsed already and they were showing play backs of that when right in front of our eyes the second tower came tumbling down too! My head was spinning. Holding my head with both hands I slid to the floor in slow motion - sitting flat on the floor. It seemed like I had no energy even to stand and felt like the whole world was closing in. I had just delivered a child and may be that too played a role in my discomfort.

People in the room were crying silently, sobbing in whispers, and no one was talking. Everyone felt helpless, void of any hope. No one went back to their desk. They were all glued to the TV. When I gathered the strength to stand up again I took permission to leave. I just wanted to reach back home to my babies.

Israel too came back home soon. Lot of our friends worked in New York but we were not sure if anyone actually worked in those towers. Tried to reach out a few in vain. More news was coming in on the Pentagon bound flight. There was a widespread rumor at least one more flight was missing in the air. America under attack was the headline flashing across the network. Our hearts melted in fear. Mostly fear of more impending danger.

Within a day or two we were back up and running as normal. Here and there people were sharing how someone they had known had escaped the ordeal or how someone reached home walking over the bridge etc. For a while it seemed like good stories, encouraging stories and I was heaving out a sigh of relief when our phone rang.

It was Keol, a friend of Israel, his former colleague. When I picked up the call she was sobbing on the other end and said Nath hadn't been home yet. It was Day 3. She added that there was a subway train stopped underground and people were still returning home. She hoped he was on it and was on his way home. She had spoken to some priests in Nath's hometown in India who had assured he was alive.

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months but there was no sign of Nath. Our hearts sank further. Keol was still waiting and hoping. We didn't know what to say. Then one day she called and said she was ready to accept Nath might be no more. She had a family gathering to bid him farewell, sold her house and moved out of New Jersey. We invited her over to come and spend some days with us; she obliged. That was the least we could do. That was the last we saw of her.

She had deleted her email account, changed her phone number and didn't share her new address and so we had lost touch with her. Over the next nine plus years she has been in our thoughts and prayers more often than she would ever imagine.

This past Christmas there was a cheerful greetings from her in our voice mail; unfortunately there was no call back number so we couldn't reach back to her. But we are now comforted she is fine.

Keol is much loved and we wish her strength through the rest of the way; Nath too is fondly remembered as always...

Conversations with myself

2011-09-07T12:54:00.003-04:00

It hasn't been long since I visited 'Conversations with Myself' but instantly I took an affinity towards the writing that I have gone back and read ALL the earlier posts!

That is very rare for me to do, however much I like to read the blogs I newly follow. Since the posts at Conversations with myself are short and sweet and to the point, I was able to read them all in one sitting.

Please allow me to introduce the soliloquist - Dr. Saravanan to you. He is a gynaecologist in Bangalore with a lovely wife and a little son and of course a busy schedule as you can imagine.

Whenever possible he visits and shares in the blogosphere - mostly in the form of poetry. He is good at that. He often writes about his son Adi and refers to his better half mostly as She. She is an anesthesiologist with an equally busy schedule as He.

Quotes below are from his poems that touched me. You may click on the links to read the full poems.

I do secretly hide back
A few of borrowed dreams..
And I know that without dreams
My heart would've turned to stone
~ The Dreamer
...
I danced with joy and madness crept
My life, my life, with joy I wept
~ I do believe in miracles
...
I
collected
all my dreams
held close to heart
to blow them
away n far
again
~ Farewell... My little darling...

...

While there, please don't forget to say hello... He is gone on vacation now and would be thrilled to see tons of comments on return. We will keep this as a surprise for him, shall we?

It wasn't picture perfect...

2011-09-06T10:32:00.007-04:00

It wasn't picture perfect...

The hair is not perfect

And the form too is not
No sun in the backdrop
No flowers nor frills

Least care was given to
Pause for a smile
No effort was taken to
Adjust the frame

Kids wouldn't join
We cared for it not
T'was just the right moment
To freeze for the still

Raindrops as backdrop
Umbrella as home
Just for that moment
We stood still as one

It wasn't very picture perfect at all
But turned out a perfect picture of all!

Musings...

2011-09-02T08:27:00.002-04:00

Anil Kurup's blog stands out from the crowd - not only in content but in the looks itself. When you visit Musings - Anil's web home - the first thing that welcomes you is this looming ice mountain and a little climber at the foothills only as a shadow.

Is it symbolic of something? Well, that is one question I have always had but never had the courage to ask. His blogger 'about me' says nothing much; if you won't take my word for it, check it out yourself.

As you scroll down the mountain, you would wonder what is there in store for you that day. Some of his posts are way serious for my simple mind, however, the posts where he opens up himself about his dreams or pasts or happenings, it is such a treasure to read. These are my favorites. I guess it is because real life amuses me more than discussing politics or serious affair. Anil has started to open up more these days as we can see from some of his recent posts...

I normally read these posts very slowly - word by word, forming the sentences and musing over them and going back to read the last two sentences together and then move a little forward only to come back to the beginning of the post to repeat all the same... I cherish these posts and enjoy his language. Oh! not to forget, I'll always keep a web dictionary open on the other tab for looking up some of his words; the fun he has with words is amazing.

If you are a serious reader who loves politics and the like, you would be in love with most of his posts where Anil welcomes your comments for and against his views thus enjoying a hearty discussion. On the other hand if you are a light reader like me who likes real life stories, following are my suggestions for a must read at Musings!

* August 23,1988
* The odd couple
* A journey into fantasy
* Little romance
* Sweet Caroline

The house we played...

2011-08-31T08:31:00.005-04:00

I loved to play house with Muthu. Muthu helped Mom with household errands. She was from a nearby village and would visit her home may be once or twice a month. Other days she was ours to keep. Her real name was Muppidathi but Mom named her Muthu which means pearl.

I guess I was in 4th grade when Muthu joined our family. Delight was only a few months old. Muthu was may be two or three years older than me. She refused to go to school but while with us learned to read and write. By the time she left our home for settling down she was reading Bible very fluently.

Delight was a baby still and Akka didn't care for any play so Muthu turned out to be my best playmate. When Muthu is done with her chores we would play our favorite game of 'House'. Our spot was the shade under our coconut trees in the back yard.

First thing we do is build our house. We gather sand with both hands to run a small heap along the edges of the house - a big rectangle. Then we would part it into rooms with kitchen always being our main focus. Muthu was good with ideas as house keeping was her profession. I would copy most of her ideas and then will demand her house shouldn't be exactly like mine. Quickly she would erase her wall and build it a different way and without doubt I would like that model. She would let me have it generously.

I would pick my spot first and will find a big shaded area. But if during the play the sun shifts giving her more shade than me, I would demand we move our house... she would oblige.

When our house is built, we would go find vessels to cook. Mostly it would be coconut shells of different shapes and sizes. Since Muthu helped in the kitchen she knew how to break the coconut differently each time to make differently shaped 'vessels' for our later play. Again I would ask for every good one and she won't argue. We also had tons of plastic toy cooking set that Mom bought for me from exhibitions at Tirunelveli or Madurai when she goes there for paper valuation.

One of us would play shopkeeper selling mud for rice and water for oil and the like. We would have a handmade balance - made of two equal size coconut shells hanging from a stick. When I play the shopkeeper I would insist Muthu comes shopping all the time. But when she plays the shopkeeper I would not go shopping but would go and collect all the stuff myself. When she asks how come I started cooking without doing any shopping, I would say, 'we got rice and oil from our native place'.

Then our 'cooking' would start. Muthu was a treasure box when it came to ideas. Different kinds of leaves and flowers and seeds and even some rocks she would find, calling it a different vegetable. But rice was always mud. We would pretend to season it, fry it and cook it and soon lunch would be ready. We would invite each other to our homes to eat.

When Muthu comes over she would 'eat' nicely asking for seconds, complimenting the 'dishes', asking for 'recipe' and even making a burping sound. But when I go over I would refuse to eat saying, 'I am not hungry; I just ate'. Muthu would insist I eat or she would quit playing (that is the only time she would blackmail to quit) and hesitantly I would oblige - but 'eat' only a little. Once again that was the meanest me at work there.

Then we would wash our vessels; for that we need water. Muthu would build a well with a bucket and we tie teeny tiny plastic bucket in a rope to carry water out of the well. We would gather dry neem leaves and remove the leaves to get the center stick, which we would then tie together to make a broom. We would soon be sweeping our house and planting some garden and the like.

Before long Grandma would call Muthu for some errands and she would run inside. Before Grandma finds a chore for me, I would run outside...

P.S: Muthu is now married and has four children of her own. If she hears I am in town without fail she would come visit me. However she didn't come last time and I believe it is now my turn to visit her next time - and of course eat whatever she gives me. I am not that mean anymore you see...

Simply Speaking...

2011-08-29T15:11:00.001-04:00

"Life is a discovery of oneself" starts his 'About Me' page. @A as we know him hails from North Carolina and brings us travel snapshots from around the world which are indeed picture perfect.

Though pictures are his passion he is also good at poems, prose and fiction. He often ends his posts with an open question to the readers which makes every one participate in every post. Questions like "Who is the photographer?" or "Where did I take this?" will have you baffled for sure if you are like me.

He is a great friend too. Often times there are mundane issues like a 'long day' or 'too much work' I would turn to @A with a quick note and without fail he would respond with an encouraging note back. That is an awesome quality which is rare to find.

It is easy to find your way in @A's blog as he keeps it well organized with neatly categorized tabs such as Stories, Photos, Poems etc. My favorite of his post is one of his stories: My first love. It took some convincing on his part to prove to his wife that it was fiction, whole fiction and nothing but the fiction. @A is a great photographer too. When you visit him, don't forget to check out his Photo Log.

Whether you are a veteran blogger or a newbie, @A can help - mostly by his encouraging comments which are also sincere. @A was my first blogger friend and thru' him I have met most of my fellow bloggers. When I land on a new blog, if I see @A's comments there I feel at home. But then that is true not only of @A but all my blog friends.

@A has tips for better NRI living and takes you along on his frequent flier miles. You will never regret spending some time at @A's virtual home at Simply Speaking by "A" Simple Blogger.

Now, for those who are wondering what I am upto, this is the first in my series called: "NRIGirl's Favblog!". These will be random posts on a specific blogger with links to my favorite posts in his/her blog. Why I do that? Just showing off my friends in the blogosphere... Good enough reason I guess.

The order in which these posts appear has no bearing on my preference whatsoever. It is just how my mind flows on a particular day... Can't wait to see who's next!

Sharing Irene

2011-08-28T12:41:00.002-04:00

Here's an attempt to share some Irene...

Irene

2011-08-28T11:38:00.003-04:00

Irene's arrival was announced few days ago and we were unsure if she would stop by Morris County NJ on the way. Friends from other counties had received warning about Irene's fury and some of them rushed to higher grounds with their little babies and aging parents.

Morris County has one advantage that it is about 50 miles from the ocean and where we live (Jefferson Township) is over 1000 ft above the sea level. There was no warning for us. However we were at the risk of losing power, falling trees, heavy wind and of course a lot of rain.

We started making phone calls to friends and families around to come over to our place if they needed to evacuate or they were just afraid and needed to be in company. We had a big fish fried into many pieces, one big sambar and a lot of rice in case friends came over.

We had bought drinking water, bread and the like that we could survive on if we lose the power for days. We took pictures of every room to keep an account of what we had in case the storm hits us and we need to claim our insurance. Moved the garden pots indoor, downed the basket ball hoop to the ground, filled the bath tubs with water for later use if water stops and decided to sleep in the basement which is the only concrete structure in the house. Then we prayed and slept.

It has been raining, raining and raining non stop for more than 48 hours now. Yes, it is windy too. But we are all safe and sound. Haven't ventured out to see if the roof is in place but have no doubt it is. Meanwhile watching news on calamities caused by Irene in the nearby towns and other eastern states. Not sure if I feel relieved that we are not among the 9 million that lost power, but thankful - very thankful that we are just fine.

I will click publish now and then see if I can take a mini video to post along. Please check back in a while...

My cup of coffee

2011-08-25T09:51:00.006-04:00

A cup of coffee is one thing I look forward to in a day's event. But lately it is the one thing that keeps eluding me. Okay let me explain.

After sending off Israel around 7:00 in the morning I set a cup of milk in the microwave to warm for 1 min 30 sec. Then my day starts. Grabbing my laptop I sit down to check my emails, apply for jobs, call recruiters and before I know it it is 9:30. Children start coming down one by one.

Joshua takes me out to the garden to show the single cucumber that is getting bigger each day. He then speculates on deers and other nocturnal that could have eaten some fruits or flowers. Invariably the fence door is open and Joshua claims the deer pushes it open and we talk about what could be done like setting up a surveillance camera to catch the culprit in action. Yes, this is our every day conversation in case you are wondering.

Joshua likes waffles for breakfast - the one with chocolate chip. Served with a glass of cold milk sets him on his track for his rest of the day activities - watching TV, playing video games or wii etc.

Then Sharon pops up. These days she takes extra care with her hair. She combs it smooth first thing in the morning. Yeah, there is a story behind it. Sharon was running wild - I mean her hair was running wild with no sight of comb in days, all my pleas were ignored in her jumpy spirit and then came a day when she had a ball of stubborn knot in her hair. She was in tears when we resorted to the help of scissors to get rid of it. Since then she has learned to tame her hair.

Sharon doesn't care for breakfast. Or does she? If we have waffles she will ask for pancakes and if we make pancakes she would prefer toast. Is it her? No, it is me. I was just like her - giving a hard time to Mom for every single meal. So I understand from where she comes from. Mostly I oblige but these days I tell her to make it herself. She would rather eat some air and skip breakfast altogether. Then I would insist on a glass of milk. She wouldn't agree and will claim orange juice and when I give in, she would rather have soda. Soda for breakfast, you might wonder. My answer would be, "...at least that."

Here comes Rachel with a cheerful "Good morning Mommy!". "Did you make your bed?" would be my response. She drags herself back upstairs reluctantly. Then I call out after her, "Rachel please make yourself some breakfast". She does mostly. Bread or waffle or bagel or anything with cream cheese - she would eat. Drinks milk. She is good. Obeys. Always. That too worries me, how is she going to survive, won't people take advantage of her, etc.

As one by one they settle into their vacation schedule, I am back to my laptop checking emails, job posts, calling people, sending out resume and before you know it it's noon! I pull myself up to go around looking for the lunch menu. No heavy cooking. Children would survive on yogurt rice with shrimp or egg or chicken. Or I can quickly make them chicken quesadillas or toss a pizza or a tray of lasagna in the oven. It's a breeze.

For dinner I worry. Israel is not very fond of non-veg these days and demands vegetables. This is time consuming as each vegetable has to be cut certain way. For whatever reason my sambar comes out ugly too. It is the same ingredients as always, same procedure as always, but not the same curry it turns out. Israel thinks there is less love in it. Could it be? I remember the days when it was worse and he seemed to have loved it or at least that's what he said -it was then - ten years ago. When it comes out excellent these days, he opts for pizza or quesadillas like the kids and then the next day hates the "old sambar". Yeah, so he is right - there is less love in it - on his part!

When it is all said and done, I mean the longing for the past, the resumes, the meals and the clean ups after, I retrieve to make myself a cup of coffee. Awaiting me in the microwave is the cup of milk I set up to warm for 1 min 30 sec first thing this morning! Please excuse me folks, let me grab it before it eludes again...

Suggestions Welcome

2011-08-24T12:41:00.000-04:00

Hello there! What's news? Nothing special here as the exciting summer plans are behind us already, the long sunny days seem to be dragging forever and my job search itself feels like a full time job in itself.

I was thinking of ways to bring us all together yet again and an idea came to my mind. Not sure if you would agree but let me try...

If you can suggest me one great blogger or blog post that you have read or written please share a link via email at nrigirl at hotmail dot com. I will combine them all in a new series called "Readers Choice" with a little note on the blogger and of course you too. The blog post itself will get a "Readers Choice Award"!

Now you may ask what defines a great blog post - that is totally upto you. It could be a poem or post or picture that inspired you somehow. What if you like multiple posts? No problem; the more the merrier!

For it? Great! Let's go! No? Oh no! What else can we work on together? I am open for suggestions. Please bring it on...

Garden of the Gods

2011-08-18T08:31:00.001-04:00

Garden of the Gods is a huge stretch of land (480 acres to be exact) with natural sand/rock formation in the middle of Colorado Springs. It is a gift to the city by one man - Charles Elliott Perkins - who owned it as his summer home - with the following condition: "where it shall remain free to the public, where no intoxicating liquors shall be manufactured, sold, or dispensed, where no building or structure shall be erected except those necessary to properly care for, protect, and maintain the area as a public park."

When we arrived the sun was scorching. Not sure if it was the sun or something else I was not my usual cheery self. Oh I remember what the problem was - I had looked at few of my pictures in the camera and was so disappointed that no pictures came close to what we saw. This was a perfect opportunity to demand for the latest and greatest camera, right? I thought so too. But when I just opened my mouth Israel was like "This is SLR. Minolta - one of the best! Learn how to use it!" and Mom was like "Go for some classes to learn to take pictures..." and I was like (to myself) "How is it my fault if the camera is outdated and not user friendly?"

The sand/rock formation was well spectacular I should say, but honestly I was not very thrilled as I would otherwise be. Water thrills me - be it in the form of river, stream, sea, or falls - but these huge rock formations somehow didn't do the trick. Green thrills me - trees, grass, plants, moss etc - but brown? - that is not quite my taste.

Israel on the other hand was very impressed. He insisted we come back again a second time just to explore more and we did - just the two of us. It was a 'leisure strolling and some rock climbing and a lot of people watching' kind of visit - anything more interesting than that?! There were a few trails, horse back riding etc but we did not opt for that.

Here are some pictures in an attempt to take you along...

Visting a Gold Mine

2011-08-13T15:23:00.010-04:00

On the Streets of Victor, Colorado

Victor, Colorado was unique from any other town we have visited. It was hard to believe we were still in the United States of America. The buildings dating back to 1800's ,antique sign boards and street lights, commercials written on the walls reminded us of the by gone era. Life was set at a slow motion, people were laid back, there seemed absolutely no hurry to pave the roads or build new building. It was almost like everything was in a trance - looking through the dust we had created driving to town.

Cripple Creek & Victor museum gave us a warm welcome - or so I would like to say - there was hardly anyone except the clerk when we arrived. Then one by one people started to come - all serious kind - no smiling faces or friendly gestures and absolutely no kids. So what? Here we are with three lovely kids all eager and excited about the trip. After some formalities like signing the release forms, watching a short instructional video and fitting us with a safety helmet and glasses, we were on the tour! A tour to one of the working Gold mines in the States.

Inside the gold mine

We normally think of mines going deep underground, but this was a mine going deep above ground! Let me clarify. What they are doing is breaking the HUGE mountains from top and making the holes wider and wider and wider to make roads inside, and leave the uncut portions as high walls and clearing the trees and everything on the way thus forming a 800 feet mine measuring from the mountain top from where the drilling first started! Trust me, this was news to us and a huge relief to me as I was a little nervous about taking the kids into underground tunnels.

The bus driver also acted as the tour guide. As we drove deeper and deeper into the mine she showed us different size trucks each called by a model # (like 521, 537 etc.), way too bigger than the normal ones we have seen on the roads. These were monster machines with monster "arms" and "fingers" capable of loading themselves with tons of gold ore, overkill or other rocks. When I say tons I mean tons - 300 tons! 400 tons! etc depending on the model. What struck me most was that in one truck load on the average they would get 3 to 4 oz of gold! "Is that all?!" we asked.

Monster machines!

The trucks take the ore to the crusher where they are broken into 3/4 inch pieces. At the end of the crusher there are other huge trucks lined up to carry the broken down ore to pile as mountains elsewhere, where a .035% cyanide solution is poured through the pile thus separating the gold from the rock and collecting it into an underground pool.

The liquid gold is then purified through flames made of coconut shells from Srilanka to finally become solid gold. In this particular mine they do a pour every Thursday and their per day gold is approximately 800 oz!! We were convinced their hard work thus pays off.

Here's a video of the Cowboys

2011-08-12T14:11:00.000-04:00

Just to cover all those who disappointed by lack of pictures in the earlier posts, here's sharing a video from the Cowboy music. This is my first ever You Tube posting as well - all for you folks :)

Also, here's a picture of the Native American Indian performance... We were not much into pictures that evening.

Chuckwagon Supper

2011-08-11T15:31:00.001-04:00

Welcome to Chuckwagon supper in Flying w Ranch! It is dinner followed by country singing in cowboy style. We weren't sure if children would enjoy it and also they were complaining that they didn't get enough time at the pool and so we decided to leave Mom and kids behind at the hotel and left for the supper - just the two of us.

It was a lovely evening, the temperature had started to become pleasant and bearable, it was still day light and we managed to click the picture of the entrance post this time. Inside the ranch there were several activities going on. Ranch homes from the past were on exhibits, some were set up as stores inside where we could buy memorabilia and snacks and such. Still most rooms were kept intact to understand how people lived in this part of the world not so long ago. What struck me the most was how closely it resembled my Grandma's home - a sewing machine in one corner, a cot against the wall, a dress hanging by the rope tied in one corner across the room, a Bible by the bedside shelf, wooden toys here and there... etc. I took some pride knowing my Grandma lived in style - that too western cowboy style :)

In another corner of the ranch they had a performance by American Indians (Red Indians as we know them). They danced and flipped in the air to the heavy drum beats, did some trick with sticks and hula hoops and what not! It was amazing. There was a huge crowd enjoying the show - only till they passed out baskets for donations. It was quite interesting to see most of the crowd dispersing quickly clutching their wallet. To be honest Israel too pulled me along - saying we will be late for the dinner... reluctantly I followed all the while feeling sorry for the performers and kidding myself for not bringing my purse with me.

Sharp at 7:00 the bell rang announcing dinner will be served soon as we rushed to find our tables. There was a brief introduction of the history of the Chuckwagon dinner over the past 60 years and instructions on how food will be served and how to avoid a mayhem finding our tables after getting our food etc. Grace was said. The tables were color coded and we were called in according to the colors. So when red was called we filed in with our fellow table mates to the kitchen.

I must tell you about the kitchen. It was a familiar site with aluminium pots and pans and utensils - very similar to the kitchen in some Children's home I have seen when we were little. There was a tall stick with a sickle attached to one end - that could be used to pluck coconuts or other fruits from tall trees - leaned against a wall, there was another bigger sickle kept at the window sill top, smokey room with very little opening called a "window", it was a sight to see. It was an all too familiar scene from decades ago when my Uncle served in the Children's home ministry my Grandpa had helped establish.

The plates and cups were also made of aluminium, we grabbed ours and stood in the line to be served, a decent piece of steak or beef or chicken depending on your choice, a steaming baked potato wrapped in foil, home cooked corn cakes, apple sauce, biscuits and butter and coffee or lemonade or apple cider. The portions were huge and the flavor was incredible. We got back to our table and started to devour the meal. Our table mates had joined and we had exchanged nothing more than smiles and nodding of the heads. I was like 'Hmm... way different from NJ where people would start a conversation right off the bat!'

Sometime during the meal there was a little tug at my shirt by the little girl at the table next to me. Her question was direct: "Where are you from?" My response was: "New Jersey! Where are you from?" Her: "Kansas!" (causing her family to join in and say hello.

Me a typical Jersey girl started off at once:
"Where in Kansas?"
"How far was the drive?"
"Have you come here before?"
"What is your name?"
"Which grade you are in?" etc etc.

She was Aliya from Kansas and was going to 5th grade, the oldest of six siblings and they too were here in Colorado Springs for a wedding. By then the whole family had joined the conversation and we were introduced to two sets of grand parents and the shy siblings. Aliya's grandfather is a farm owner from Kansas and he gave us a open invitation to keep in touch anytime we visit Kansas.

Soon the show started - cowboys singing beautiful western songs playing guitar and violin.They would poke fun at each other between the songs and it was hilarious. Some of my favorite songs were Lonesome Wind, El Paso, Western Skies, Cool Clear Water, Western Soul etc. Each song would take you to the scene and captivate your attention to what was happening around you - the cowboy who was in love with a Mexican maiden, the thirsty cowboy who looks around for some water - cool clear water, the cowboy who had no other company than the lonesome wind, etc.

I loved it all. Israel too. The fun part was when they taught us how to do cowboy yodel. What I learnt I'll pass it on to you folks with a knock-knock joke to help you...

Knock! Knock!
Who is there?
Little old lady
Little old lady who?

There you go! You just learnt to yodel!

Cowboy Church

2011-08-09T18:18:00.003-04:00

One of our must see in the list was the Cowboy Church and the Chuckwagon Supper at the Flying with the Wranglers Ranch.

For the first time in life we saw western ranches on our drive from Canyon City to Colorado Springs. Israel brought us through the longer scenic route as we were not in a hurry. A ranch appears to be acres of land owned by a single owner or a family, the entrance always marked with a wooden sign board proudly announcing the name of the ranch, atop two wooden poles. These entry ways are quite tall almost like some arches in some Indian towns we see.

Driving across the ranches flooded my mind with imaginations of how cowboys live(d). We were able to recall scenes from western movies about an outlaw fleeing by horse from one ranch to another and the Sheriff's people chasing behind him, the romances that could have bloomed across the ranches, the cheerful wedding gatherings, how bootlegged men would have sat around the fireplace smoking pipes while giggly ladies took part in the household duties of cooking and cleaning and child rearing without missing out on the local gossips around town...

So here we are at the Cowboy Church in Flying with the Wranglers Ranch. Similar entrance sign greeted us and we were queued behind many cars which were directed for parking by local cowboy lads wearing jeans and cowboy hats and of course the bandanna scarves around their neck. I was not sure if they are real cowboys or regular men in cowboy costume, but later understood they were for real as it was a working ranch.

I was a little hesitant to attend Sunday service in jeans but had no other go. My hesitation was short lived when I saw so many ladies and lads in jeans as if it were their prime attire.

The church itself was designed like a huge shed with open sides as windows, probably seating over 1000 (could it be?) people. It was dimly lit with the lights coming from overhead hurricane lamps, hung in the middle of cart wheels. Okay, they were not the lamps that use oil to burn but their electric counterparts. Beautiful Hymns of the past era were sang like "He owns the cattle on the mountains", "In the sweet by and by ..." etc. It was lovely.

In the back there was a table with all breakfast supplies such as coffee, donuts and other kinds of goodies. We had had our breakfast at the Marriott already.(Oh yes, I forgot to tell you, after trying out Econolodge and Rodeaway Inn for a day we decided to get back to Marriott as per our original plan.)

After the songs, Pastor Scotty Vaughn took to the stage and talked about JOY. Oh man that was great! I often talk about joy and keep up my good cheer but in the last couple of weeks the joy had drained out of me as I had lost my job so suddenly. So the message was so prompt for my soul and I got a renewed sense of JOY in me. One thing that struck my mind was that the Pastor had said the opposite of joy was unbelief! It means not trusting in God! Joy is the deep abiding confidence that God is in control regardless of the circumstances, yes I knew that, I say that to people but when my circumstances were not very joyful I had as easily forgotten that and so it was a great reminder for me.

Children too had enjoyed their Sunday School and we were off to some sight seeing later that afternoon to the Garden of the Gods and Cheyenne Mountain Zoo which I will share in detail later.

Just did a preview and noted that the post had already gotten quite long. So in order to save you folks from further boredom, decided to leave it at this and continue on the Chuckwagon Supper in my next post.... For now, here's some pictures from that Sunday morning (July 31st 2011)

Gold Mine Rock Shop

2011-08-08T09:53:00.004-04:00

Our next stop was at the Gold Mine Rock Shop across the street from Echo Canyon in Canyon City, Colorado. It was not part of our agenda for the trip as we had not read about it when we did our research on places to visit in Colorado. However, we decided to stop by as Sharon collects rocks.

Sharon's love for rocks started when she was very little when I first showed her a pebble and said, "See how smooth it feels? Mommy used to collect rocks when I was little." She asked to keep that pebble and since then brings home rocks of all colors, texture and sizes. Her backpack would be invariantly heavy and I had to restrict her at one point that she can not bring home big rocks and only one rock per day.

You can imagine her delight visiting this rock shop. Though it appeared small from the outside it was huge with a wide range of collection starting from lava to calcite formations. Most of these rocks are from the Colorado mountains which are broken down as part of the Gold mining process. There are some from the neighboring states and from other countries as far as Brazil.

We purchased some green, blue quartz and amber and jasper for children and their Science teachers. Joshua wanted a geode. Geodes are rocks with internal cavities filled with crystal formations or other chalcedony deposits. I love agates, a thin cross section of a geode showing the varying thickness of multi color bands and translucent in nature.

For the rock enthusiasts among us here are some pictures...

Let's go Rafting and Railing...

2011-08-05T12:11:00.008-04:00

We had the continental breakfast provided at the motel and set off to Echo Canyon for our Raft & Rail trip. A bus took us to the Royal Gorge train station (which was interestingly just across the street from where we were staying, which we didn't know).

The train was pretty long and had spacious seats and huge windows to allow everyone full view of the unfolding nature around. Also they had two open cars with no seats and just the rails on both sides, where we can stand and admire the mountains and river and enjoy the sun and breeze all at once. The train also had a food car to tempt the little ones with hot dogs and popcorn and of course some soda.

As soon as the train started to move children had some snack and then quickly we went over to the open car to get the best view. It was breathtakingly beautiful - the rocky mountains! It was nothing like I had ever seen. The mountains so huge, the river so wide; the sky so blue, the breeze so gentle, the whisper so loud, it was absolutely amazing. We started clicking our cameras fast in an attempt to capture the scene; however when we later looked at the pictures it was nowhere close to what we saw. Sharing a few here to give you an idea... towards the end of the post, there is a whole lot more pictures for those who are interested...

The Royal Gorge bridge between two huge mountains, the rafters waving at us from the tumbling river below, the cheerfulness of the fellow riders, the anticipation of our rafting trip that afternoon all generated an immense joy deep within and my heart was singing and praising and worshiping God Almighty. The lyrics from the song Majestic kept repeating itself in my head which goes:

The heavens declare Your greatness
The oceans cry out to You
The mountains, they bow down before You
So I'll join with the earth and I'll give my praise to You...

After a while we realized Amma was missing out on all these as she was still at her seat. I rushed inside to bring her out to the open car before the "show" ended. She wasn't as thrilled to stand and watch and so went back inside to her seat while we gulped down more of the scenic overlook...

The bus was waiting to take us back to Echo Canyon. Our package included boxed lunch from the 8 mile bar and grill restaurant which was only okay. We didn't care much for the cold sandwich but I loved the cool water they gave with it. Children didn't eat anything except the cookies that came along and some fruits. They weren't hungry as they ate something on the train.

It was HOT. When I say hot, I mean real hot; it was over a 100 degree. We grabbed our river suit and helmet and boarded the bus for the rafting trip. Just the gear made Mom reluctant to join but we pushed her along saying this is a once in a life time event and she can't miss it. Instructions were given in the bus as to what could happen and how we could save ourselves if we happen to fall into the river, etc. which made Mom more nervous and she wanted to stay in the bus. It took the bus driver to convince Mom that we would be safe and reluctantly Mom got down the bus to the river.

The rafts were big and round and bright blue in color. All of us could go on the same raft. We had a guide whose name was Cody, a pleasant young man who was easy to get along with. He checked our gear and tightened the few buckles and made sure our helmet was secure before giving us some instructions on rafting. Israel and myself took the front row, Rachel and Sharon on the second row, Joshua and Mom in between, Cody all the way in the back.

Wow! It was such thrill. Not the kind of adrenalin thrill, but the thrill of fun, cool water and the generous splashing. It was our first time rafting and soon we knew it would become a family hobby as all of us loved it. Cody was the main rafter as you can imagine. Anytime he said "Forward Stroke" or "Heavy stroke" or "Stop" we did accordingly and the raft gently slid the river. There were a total of 7 rapids we came through and each was much fun, quenching us from head to toe.

We struck a conversation with Cody and got to know he was a local from Colorado Springs area and lives in Echo Canyon through the summer. He is a recent graduate and wishes to raft for another year before he starts thinking of what's next. Rafting he loves to do but understands it can't pay his bills in a long run.

In Colorado he said tourism is the main industry that thrives. Other than that they have four or five military bases including the Air force Academy. In the plains there is some farming he said. About the river Cody said it is the snow melt from the mountains and soon it would run too low for rafting when all the snow is gone. During winter time there is no rafting but skiing and other winter sports attract visitors.

Along the river's edge there were photographers set up to take pictures of the jolly rafters. As we approached the last phase of the trip Cody gave permission to jump off the raft and swim if we wanted. Sharon and Israel took off immediately, Rachel was hesitant at first but after some push she too got down. They did a few lapses and then got back on board to finish the trip.

As we walked to the shore they had beautiful hammocks lined up for us to rest while waiting for the buses to load the equipments. It was the best ever and we loved it.

At $99 per person, it was a trip well worth it's every penny!
As promised here's more pictures for those who are interested...

Colorado the Beautiful!

2011-08-04T15:50:00.002-04:00

Colorado is known as the Mountain State with Denver as its Capital. In the Rocky Mountains area where we visited, the landscape was quite unique in that the attractions were hidden behind layers of rocks and valleys. It constantly felt like looking through a three dimensional maze of rocks or a hologram if you will.

At first sight everything seemed quite dry and brown however from day two onwards things started to look more and more beautiful. The only downside was the mild headache which the locals associated with the elevation and suggested we drink plenty of water.

I wish to take you along scene by scene as it unfolded before our eyes but don't think it will interest you as much. Hence sharing the highlights of the trip in a three or more part series...

The journey begins...

American Airlines Flight 731 took off from Laguardia, NY on Wednesday July 27th few minutes after 11:05 AM - it's scheduled departure time. It was bright and sunny outside and we had a nice view from our windows as we saw flights taking off one after the other in a long queue in front of us. The Captain was counting down like "we are the 7th in line for take off, we are the 5th now, the 2nd to take off... etc." Finally it was our turn!

They served us coffee/soda onboard and we gladly munched on the snacks we had packed. The Captain caught up with the lost minutes in the air and we reached Dallas, Texas on time. We had a change over there for the flight to Colorado Springs, Colorado. It was interesting to note that we had gained an extra hour as we were in a different time zone; so adjusted our watches accordingly. After picking up some lunch from the food court, we boarded the next flight.

When we landed in Colorado Springs airport, we were surprised to gain yet another hour and hence turned back our clocks one more hour. Budget rental car company did not have the SUV we had booked so they gave us a minivan. Good enough! We were an hour from Canon City where we had booked for the night.

Econo Lodge at Canon City was only so so. The decor was western with cow's skin hanging on the entrance wall and that itself put me off, but I didn't complain. Children were excited about the indoor pool; I too jumped in the pool and played Marco Polo with the kids. They were absolutely thrilled. For dinner we set off to a Pizza Hut we had seen on the way. It was packed to the rim and we waited to be seated while contemplating if we should go to a different place.

As we were waiting a lady approched us and inquired if what Mom was wearing called a saree. She was sweet and kind and said they were happy to have us visit them from far off and that they don't see this culture much around there. That was nice of her to say that.

Soon we were served and we ate to our heart's content and set off for a good night's rest as we had a early start next day...

To be continued...

Note: Yeah, true I had promised to bring you only the highlights of our trip, but it became quite detailed... will work on making it short and sweet in PART II

Happy August

2011-08-01T09:09:00.002-04:00

July is gone! August is here! At this rate New Year 2012 is just around the corner. Happy August to all my friends.

We are still in Colorado enjoying places around. Children are behaving, weather is bearable though a little too hot at times, America is beautiful everywhere we turn, so nothing to complain about. Only grateful for His providence so far.

The wedding was great. It was at the Airforce chapel followed by reception at the Doolittle hall. There was singing and dancing afterwards and for the first time in my life I danced too. Could'nt deny it when the groom asked me to the floor. It was such fun. Israel took the center stage stealing the show teaching them some Indian dance moves. It was a multicultural wedding and so it was a great occasion to get to know each other better.

Children are worried summer vacation will be over soon. Good thing we did not allow them to bring their Nintendo handhelds. They are looking outside their windows as we drive rather than looking inside their palms... I often tell them their childhood is wasted with these devices as there is no memory making.

Okay folks let me leave it at that. Israel is hurrying us to get started on our Gold mine trip this morning. Remind me to tell you about the Cowboy Church we attended yesterday. We have taken tons of pictures to share with you folks from Garden of the gods. Can't wait to share.

Happy August once again.

Friend always,
NRIGirl

Greetings from Colorado

2011-07-29T09:40:00.001-04:00

Howdy! werall fane ere... Just trying some southern accent...

Colorado on the first look seemed like a desert compared to New Jersey, but we soon realized it had a lot to offer. The huge rocky mountains are sure a sight to see. The rolling Arkansas river is another. We got an up close look on both on the rail and raft ride. It was amazing!

What am I doing blogging? Good question. The clan is downstairs eating breakfast and I decided to sneak in to say a quick hello. Tried in vain to post a picture, so it has to wait till we come back.

Hope all is well at your end.

Colorado Bound

2011-07-25T08:41:00.003-04:00

It is official; we are going to Colorado Springs, Colorado. The main reason is to attend a wedding but planned it as a week long trip to look around places too.

The tickets were purchased months in advance, the hotel was booked too but in the last minute I lost my job.

We weren't sure then whether to continue with the vacation as planned or settle for something local. After much thinking we finally decided to go as planned; however decided to incorporate a few changes too. Instead of the Marriott we are now considering Econolodge and indoor pool was a 'must have' then but a 'nice to have' now.

Colorado shares its borders with many States such as Texas,Oklahoma, Kansas, New Mexico, Wyoming, Utah, Nebraska & Arizona. I truly wanted to drive around to the nearest town in each State and have a meal there or sleep in to count it towards our "States Visited" list. But then we will not be able go places within Colorado itself in just one week.

So here we are bound for Colorado and only Colorado for the next full week. I will try to share if time permits as I have to post Coffee with Jesus on a daily basis anyway. In case I don't get to, I promise to share a snapshot on return...

iPad

2011-07-24T21:22:00.010-04:00

After much contemplating Israel has got me an iPad! It is absolutely beautiful!

This is my first attempt to post something from it. I agree touch screen keyboard feels quite different from laptop or desktop keyboard. But I am sure I can get better at it in a few days. Children are most excited about Angry Bird and taking turns playing it.

I am not a huge gadget fan but for whatever reason I wanted an iPad ever since I had seen it at a doctor's office in the hands of a fellow patient some months ago. I was so curious and blurted out, "what is this called?" He was kind enough to give me a quick walk thru' of it and I had rushed back home to demand for one.

It wasn't easy convincing dear Israel why I really needed one. I am so glad he finally gave in to my request and got me one. I must tell you all the blogs look so much better from the iPad! Quite enjoying the scroll downs and finger tip browsing.

Seems to be a show off post but I really wanted to share my happiness with you folks! More to follow in the coming days. Stay connected please...

Oh deer!

2011-07-22T11:50:00.001-04:00

Dear Deer!

I know you weren't expecting a letter from me. But I am not expecting to meet you in person or catch you in action and hence this letter.

Right, this is not the way to start a letter as it seems quite rude already without the usual greetings. But... I am not in a mood to really greet you after what you have done to my Petunias.

Did you know for the very first time in my life I decided to shell out the money and get myself two beautiful baskets of red Petunias and the shepherd's rod to go with it? I had put it lovingly in the front yard looking at it every morning with such pride and joy - as if my own hands made them bloom...

But yesterday morning as I walked out to water them I was shocked! stunned! Actually there is no word I can find in my vocabulary to exactly express how I felt, may be cheated sounds like it, to see that the plants had lost all its flowers. All! Not one of them left. I am so upset deer. Why did you do that? Did you know it was a treat I got for myself?

I wish I could say I hate you, but I don't like to use that word. I wish I could cry out loud but who cares... I want my flowers back. Please return if you can. Will you?

P.S: If you ate them by mistake I forgive you; if it was on purpose I might as well say I hate you...

Almost in tears,
~ NRIGirl

What is a Girl?

2011-07-20T10:01:00.001-04:00

Little girls are the nicest things that can happen to people. They are born with a bit of angel-shine about them, and though it wears thin sometimes, there is always enough left to lasso your heart—even when they are sitting in the mud, or crying temperamental tears, or parading up the street in Mother’s best clothes.

A little girl can be sweeter (and badder) oftener than anyone else in the world. She can jitter around, and stomp, and make funny noises that frazzle your nerves, yet just when you open your mouth, she stands there demure with that special look in her eyes. A girl is Innocence playing in the mud, Beauty standing on its head, and Motherhood dragging a doll by the foot.

God borrows from many creatures to make a little girl. He uses the song of a bird, the squeal of a pig, the stubbornness of a mule, the antics of a monkey, the spryness of a grasshopper, the curiosity of a cat, the speed of a gazelle, the slyness of a fox, the softness of a kitten, and to top it all off He adds the mysterious mind of a woman.

A little girl likes new shoes, party dresses, small animals, first grade, noisemakers, the girl next door, dolls, make-believe, dancing lessons, ice cream, kitchens, coloring books, make-up, cans of water, going visiting, tea parties, and one boy. She doesn’t care so much for visitors, boys in general, large dogs, hand-me-downs, straight chairs, vegetables, snowsuits, or staying in the front yard.

She is loudest when you are thinking, the prettiest when she has provoked you, the busiest at bedtime, the quietest when you want to show her off, and the most flirtatious when she absolutely must not get the best of you again. Who else can cause you more grief, joy, irritation, satisfaction, embarrassment, and genuine delight than this combination of Eve, Salome, and Florence Nightingale.

She can muss up your home, your hair, and your dignity—spend your money, your time, and your patience—and just when your temper is ready to crack, her sunshine peeks through and you’ve lost again. Yes, she is a nerve-wracking nuisance, just a noisy bundle of mischief. But when your dreams tumble down and the world is a mess—when it seems you are pretty much of a fool after all—she can make you a king when she climbs on your knee and whispers, "I love you best of all!"

Note: An excerpt from The Treasure Chest. Quotes by Alan Beck.

What is a boy?

2011-07-19T08:20:00.002-04:00

Between the innocence of babyhood and the dignity of manhood we find a delightful creature called a boy. Boys come in assorted sizes, weights, and colors, but all boys have the same creed: to enjoy every second of every minute of every hour of every day and to protest with noise (their only weapon) when their last minute is finished and the adult males pack them off to bed at night.

Boys are found everywhere—on top of, underneath, inside of, climbing on, swinging from, running around, or jumping to. Mothers love them, little girls hate them, older sisters and brothers tolerate them, adults ignore them, and Heaven protects them. A boy is Truth with dirt on its face, Beauty with a cut on its finger, Wisdom with bubble gum in its hair, and the Hope of the future with a frog in its pocket.

When you are busy, a boy is an inconsiderate, bothersome, intruding jangle of noise. When you want him to make a good impression, his brain turns to jelly or else he becomes a savage, sadistic, jungle creature bent on destroying the world and himself with it.

A boy is a composite—he has the appetite of a horse, the digestion of a sword-swallower, the energy of a pocket-sized atomic bomb, the curiosity of a cat, the lungs of a dictator, the imagination of a Paul Bunyan, the shyness of a violet, the audacity of a steel trap, the enthusiasm of a firecracker, and when he makes something, he has five thumbs on each hand.

He likes ice cream, knives, saws, Christmas, comic books, the boy across the street, woods, water (in its natural habitat), large animals, Dad, trains, Saturday mornings, and fire engines. He is not much for Sunday School, company, schools, books without pictures, music lessons, neckties, barbers, girls, overcoats, adults, or bedtime.

Nobody else is so early to rise, or so late to supper. Nobody else gets so much fun out of trees, dogs, and breezes. Nobody else can cram into one pocket a rusty knife, a half-eaten apple, three feet of string, an empty Bull Durham sack, two gum drops, six cents, a slingshot, a chunk of unknown substance, and a genuine supersonic code ring with a secret compartment.

A boy is a magical creature—you can lock him out of your workshop, but you can’t lock him out of your heart. You can get him out of your study, but you can’t get him out of your mind. Might as well give up—he is your captor, your jailer, your boss, and your master—a freckled-faced, pint-sized, cat-chasing, bundle of noise. But when you come home at night with only shattered pieces of your hopes and dreams, he can mend them like new with two magic words, "Hi Dad!" ("Hi Mom!")

Note: An excerpt from The Treasure Chest. Quotes by Alan Beck.

Thanks a Bunch!

2011-07-18T07:36:00.005-04:00

To all my friends a BIG thank you for coming together and celebrating Mom with me. It turned out to be a three day celebration; Amma was overwhelmed though a little shy.

Friday we had a prayer meeting; about ten families attended and we stayed late till 4:00 AM the next morning catching up with all. Vanitha and Raj had sent in lovely orchids for Mom.

Then Saturday we had a friend come over for lunch and we went fishing afterwards. Caught about ten sun catchers which made a perfect dinner.

Sunday morning all of you guys came together online with your wishes for Mom and your special posts. After church our friends Rammiya and Ganesh had us over for lunch. We spent the whole day with them and had a great time.

My sincere thanks to every one of you who participated in some way celebrating Mom with us and making my wishes come true. It sure meant a lot for me.

Thank you! Thank you! & Thank you!

Note: I know you would love to see some pictures. Honestly in all my hurry burry I did not think of pictures. But sure saw some flashes here and there. Whenever friends share them I will post it for you. Israel might have one or two on his phone. I will get that posted too. I didn't want to delay my thank you waiting for the pictures...

With love, From: My Friends To: My Mom

2011-07-17T00:01:00.006-04:00

Loving Amma! Wishing you a very happy birthday today and many happy returns!

I am sure it comes as a surprise - a letter from me - that too when you are here with us! Yes, that is the very idea - to surprise you! Here's more surprise for you! Friends and family members who could not join us in person have come together here on the blogosphere! Hope you enjoy it on your special day!

The 'party' begins! Wishes line up in the order received:

Princess & Family:
My Dear most Athai, Aunty & Granny ma,
HAPPY BIRTH DAY 17.07.11 Golden 65!
Princess, Jawahar, Finn Niol & Asher Royce

Esther Lionel:
Everyone should have a friend like you
You are so much fun to be with
And you are such a good person
You crack me up with laughter
And touch my heart with your kindness
You have a wonderful ability
To know when to offer advice
And when to sit in quiet support
You've brightend so many
Of my routine days
And time after time
I've realized how fortunate
I am that my life includes you
I really do believe that
Everybody should have a friend like you
But so far it looks like
You are one of a kind!

Dear Mrs.Yagapushpam,Many happy returns of the Day.
With Love & Prayers
EstherLionel.

Vijaya Ebenezer:

Dearest periamma Many Many happy returns of the day,,,, from all of us. May God shower the best of heavenly blessings on you. I hope this day will be the most fabulous and filled with lots of wonders and loving surprises. I wish we all were with u now. Even we would have enjoyed and shared the happiest movement with you. Anywayz not a problem.please let us know how was the day for you. Anyways bye for now way...

Regards,

Vijaya

Anitha Krishnamurthy:
Though I met you recently and we have talked very little on those visits I was able to feel the warmth and care you hold for everyone around especially for your grand children. Here we are all wishing you a blasting birthday and great year ahead. Have a wonderful day aunty. I am sure Hephzibah and grand children will make your day the best. Enjoy your day and pass on some cakes if there are any leftovers (here's her blog post with wishes)

Jacinth Wisely:
On your Birthday Periamma
I think that you should know
How very much I love you
I look forward to your visits
To listen to your stories
To feel your love towards me
And always have a fun time
You are such an inspiration.
I am so very happy
That you’re Periamma of mine
Happy Birthday!

There are some that are boring
Those are some that are dull
There are some that don’t care
About much of anything at all
But that’s not you Periamma
You’re exciting, caring and great fun too
Your laughs I love
Those are really laughing out louds!

A Great Big Happy Birthday
From your Jacinthma or Jacinthal who loves you!
So Happy Birthday Periamma
I pray on this special day that
Our Heavenly Father bless you richly and
Give you healthy long life, and hence
We are blessed.

Vanitha and Raj:
Dearmost Amma,

Your birthday means so much to us.
Your endless affection makes you special and rare.

I cherish the very special bond we have.
You lift our spirits in many ways.

We celebrate your life; We honor you,
And send you our love, care and praise.

Thank you Amma for what you've have given to us.

Have a Wonderful & Happy 65th Birthday!!

Love,
Vanitha & Raj

Bawa Kaseem:
என் பிறந்த நாள் அன்று, நான் எழுதிப்பதிவு செய்த ஓர் கட்டுரைக்கு, பாராட்டும், வாழ்த்தும் தெரிவித்து என்னை பெருமைக்குள்ளாக்கிய அம்மாவுக்கு, அவர்களின் பிறந்தநாளன்று என் வாழ்த்தையும், நன்றியையும் தெரிவிக்கும்படி அமைவதே மிகப் பொருத்தமாக இருக்கும் எனத்தோன்றவே... இதுவரை அமைதிகாத்து, இந்தப் பதிவு வழியே என் நன்றியினைத் தெரிவித்துக்கொள்கிறேன்.

நன்றி அம்மா. உங்கள் வாழ்த்தும், பாராட்டும் என் பெருமை. நான் முன்பே கூறியதுபோல இது எனக்குக் கிடைத்த விருது.

Wish you a very Happy Happy Birthday.

Note: This is only an extract from Bawa's post for you: நன்றியோடு வண்டு!

Petty Witter:
Please click here for a toast from Petty Witter

KParthasarathay sends in balloons and cakes along with his wishes...!

Hope you enjoyed it all!

~ Loving daughter Queenma

In search of modesty...

2011-07-12T08:35:00.009-04:00

Not so long ago, we went swimsuit shopping for our young daughters. It wasn't as easy as years before when they were little when we just picked their favorite color or character suit and we were done.

Now that each person has their own personality it was difficult to find one that suited both their mind and body alike. We would have tried at least a dozen suits from different stores and yet picking one to buy wasn't easy.

In fact I was shocked by the way the suits were made, two low in the front or too deep in the back or strategically cut or midriff baring or string bikinis, anything and everything except some modest cut.

Now don't get me wrong; I am not against modern wear. But when 'modern' replaces modest that bothers me. These itsy bitsy teeny weeny pieces may be the latest trend, but who cares. Give me a decent piece that is comfort and does cover up at the same time.

No, it is not a culture clash. I do not claim saree is better than swimsuit for playing in the water. And at the same time, I am not for walking around in underwear in public either. If we can have fun and comfort without compromising on modesty, I am all for it.

Finally after hours of trying so many kinds, just when we were about to give up, Landsend came to our rescue. It has beautiful collections which are approved by moms and daughters alike. I admit we got lucky this year finding a decent swimwear; looking forward to put it to more use while the season lasts...

For next season however, we better start looking out for an affordable private beach. Something tells me finding a private beach might be easier than finding a modest wear...

My Home Country

2011-07-08T07:55:00.003-04:00

One thing that awed me when I landed in America was the sight of American Flag flowing freely in all highways and byways, malls, schools, post offices, municipal buildings, gas stations, churches, and even on apparels and accessories! It was awesome. Just the sight of it renewed my bond with my new home.It was a constant reminder that I finally made it to my dream country.

This was a contrast bewteen the Indian Flag I had seen only on special occasions couple of times a year like Independence day, Republic day, etc. It was almost sacred and dealt with utter importance. Nothing wrong with that. People would argue that's how it should be. It's just that it kept me - the commoner, at a distance when it came to embracing it as my own.

Whereas in America I can embrace the flag as her own child. I can touch it, feel it, wear it and see it all around and it gets me one step closer to the flag and hence the country. The longer I have lived here the stronger my affinity has grown towards my new country. I even wonder which I would call my home country now. I guess it would be safer to say wherever I make it a home is my home country. For now, it is America and I love it the best.

America has made it easier for me to achieve my dreams, reach my skies, touch my stars, and live my life. Grateful always to God Almighty first and America the next for making it all come true! Happy July 4th to all my fellow citizens.

Help me, help me, help me!

2011-07-07T10:53:00.004-04:00

Please don't be alarmed from the title. It is from a little rhyme Mom used to sing when we were little... posted below:

In a cottage in a wood,
A little girl at the window stood,
Saw a rabbit running by,
Knocking at the door.

'Help me, help me, help me,' he said,
'Before the hunter shoots me dead!'
'Come little rabbit, come with me,
Oh how happy we shall be.'

For my predicament, though not similar, I decided to steal the words from the rabbit as that's how helpless I feel on this issue. Okay, okay I will start before you guys go wild with imagination on what it could be...

A dirty sink bothers me! That's the issue. You may say, 'well, that doesn't seem like an issue'. But the problem is, a dirty sink bothers me anywhere, not just in our home!

In any gathering be it in our house or at a friend's or at the church you name it, the minute I see a dirty sink, I will fold up my sleeves and get into action attacking it. When the work is done only then I can relax. But again in a few minutes when the sink gets filled with coffee mugs or whatever I spring into action all over again. This repeats itself almost the entire time; all the while missing out on relaxing conversations other guests enjoy.

I know this is not normal as no one else feels the same urge like I do, whether they play guest or host. It is only me who seem to have this problem. So, what is wrong with me?

By the way, this 'problem' of mine has brought me sincere heartfelt 'thank you's and even blessings from elders for which I am thankful for. Once in my Aunt's house as I was wrapping up an overflowing sink, my Grandma kissed me on my forehead and said, "God sees your humble heart and will bless you for that" and another time at a Church event a very old lady, grabbed my hands and said, "You did the hardest job cleaning all those dishes; your reward will be greater". I consider these blessings as my best rewards! But still I wonder if I should do something about this compelling urge and how I can possibly overcome it...

Please help me with your valuable suggestions as to how I can ignore a dirty sink, oh not in our home, but elsewhere. But then, if you believe it is normal, please say so...

Thank you,

~ Little rabbit; I mean NRIGirl :(

Carved...

2011-07-04T22:43:00.000-04:00

Who am I? What am I sitting on?

A Toast to my Friend

2011-07-02T12:00:00.013-04:00

Note: Here's my toast to my best friend Vanitha and her husband Raj on their wedding day - July 2nd 2011...

Good Evening! I am Hephzibah Israel, the proud friend of our glamorous Bride Vanitha. First and foremost I thank the Lord Almighty for bringing the couple together on this joyous occasion; I find it a honor to be considered the Matron of Honor to be able to share a few things about my best friend Vanitha here.

I want to start by congratulating the bride and groom. Please know it is a special day not only for you, but for me as well and all of us here. You are looking stunningly beautiful today and Raj and you make a lovely pair! I admire how well you both planned out this occasion and congratulations on the success.

I wish to take you all fourteen years back in memory lanes to the time when I first met Vanitha. Her calm and pleasant nature and the beautiful smile attracted me to her and made it easy to bond with her. Looking back on our days spent together in St. Thomas Hostel in Santhome, Chennai I have nothing but fond memories.

The fondest memories include making paper flowers and teddy bears, taking off on rainy afternoons only to stand in the rain getting wet, singing our favorite song 'Eeechaka macha eecha poocha, chiyangu macha cholo' over and over again to the annoyance of our other friends, teasing each other and dreaming about our future husbands and planning out how many babies we would each have, etc. I am so glad we are now on this side of the aisle having everything we ever dreamed of and looking back to the dreams when they were just dreams.

We have come a long way since then and over the years I am fortunate to make friends with Selvi Aunty and JP Uncle, Vanitha's Mom and Dad. Their prayers for Vanitha have been constant through the years and they have longed to see this day come true with earnest prayers and steadfast faith. Today all their prayers and wishes have come true as Vanitha has found her suitable groom and the best companion in Raj to walk her side rest of their lives! From what I have come to know of Raj, I have no doubt in my mind about that.

Vanitha and Raj are both two remarkable people coming together today to complete and complement each other. Let me remind them that: Coming together is just the beginning; keeping together is progress; and working together is success.

I wish you success from the bottom of my heart. Years from now, may you look back on this day, your wedding day, with the same fondness you have for each other this very moment. I wish you the very best in everything life has to offer.

Please raise your glasses while I toast my best friend and her husband: Dear Vanitha and Raj! May the love of God shower on your family from this day forth for generations to come! May your love for each other be unconditional. God bless you! Here's to love, laughter, the newlywed and their happily ever after. Cheers!

Happy July

2011-07-01T09:36:00.004-04:00

Wow! Hard to believe it is July already. Happy July to all! Thought I will share some updates from my end.

Children are okay, all the time watching TV or playing video games. Can't complain much as we are at work. However last weekend I took them out to the mall nearby and bought anything and everything their little hearts wished for. Rachel found a nice glass like shoes with some sequins on it while Sharon settled for some clipon earrings. It was a nice get away with Mom too and we enjoyed Chinese food from the food court. Overall it was a very relaxing day as we were not in a hurry to rush back home. Joshua had gone garden shopping with Dad. They ate out too and so no cooking and cleaning on Saturday.

Sunday after church we had the bridal shower. Oh, the bride looked lovely. It was such a joy meeting new friends and bonding with old friends. Had a good time overall. After the shower few friends stayed back and enjoyed Knight & Day while I totally relaxed with Auntie and Uncle (Bride's Mom & Dad) and my Mom in our deck enjoying the sunset and munching on snacks Mom brought from India and talking about family affairs from both ends. When the movie team came back they were like, 'where were you?' and I am like, 'having more fun than you guys'. We all had dinner together and dispersed to bed.

Tomorrow is the wedding. I am totally thrilled. We will be the first guest to arrive and last one to leave. In fact she has a lot of friends and family, but we wish to help around as much as possible. Children's clothes are all decided, but I am yet to pick mine. I know, too late in the game but what to do. Mom has brought me a few nice saree and so it shouldn't be hard I believe.

Oh! By the way, our indoor jasmin is blooming like anything. Atleast some 15-20 flowers are on it and the whole downstairs smells beautiful if you pay attention to it.

Hmmm... just scrolled up and noticed I have written a long post. So it is time to wind up I guess. Before I do, let me share a few things on July happenings here...

* Joshua & Mom will be celebrating their birthdays.
* Looking forward to the July 4th Fireworks in town
* Traveling to Colorado Springs by end of July

I guess that's about it. Please stay tuned for more posts this month. Take care!

Waldo is lost again; this time in a street fair...

2011-07-01T00:45:00.002-04:00

If you happen to run into him you will tell him I am looking for him; won't you? And you will also tell me where he is; won't you?

When Mom arrived...

2011-06-30T07:33:00.001-04:00

Mom has arrived safe and sound. Sorry folks,I have been wanting to share this picture with you but something was wrong with downloading the pictures... Better late than never,right?

What's in my bag?

2011-06-30T07:08:00.001-04:00

As if you wondered... I plan on doing this once in a while. Okay here's the deal I need to show you everything inside without 'hiding' anything. This is an attempt to keep it clean...

Here's the Key!

2011-06-24T10:17:00.010-04:00

If you haven't tried your hand at the puzzle, please check it out here. If you have already, please proceed...

Well, I wasn't planning on giving this out that easily but I just couldn't wait!! So, here we go... please double click the image to get the full view.

These are all wonderful people who bring extra cheer to my days and smiles on my face! Kindly catch up and shake hands if you haven't met already...

Thanks to everyone who participated and apologies to those I missed out, like Deeps, Baili, Bawa etc. I promise to make it up to you guys one of these days... Have a great weekend!

Across:
1. Doctor Couple (THE MATTHEWS)
3. Insists on anonymity (STRANGER)
6. Home making Dentist wonders why (RAJI)
7. He speaks from Patna (IRFAN UDDIN)
12. Brings us interesting newsbits (PETTY WITTER)
13. A cop in London (BIKRAMJIT)
15. I call her Mom (YL)
17. Editor in war against cucumber (RRAMESH)
19. Moments of vanity (TOMZ)
20. Long time no see (BALACHANDRAN V)

Down:
2. Brewed daily (COFFEE WITH JESUS)
4. Very handy (MANGALA)
5. Painted house (RACHNA)
8. Dentist in a room (KAVITA)
9. Doctor with a heart (DRANTONY)
10. Looking for red slippers all over Europe (EMILY)
11. Has writer's block, not gardener's block... (JYOTHI)
14. Excels the art of story telling in more than one languages (KPARTHASARATHI)
16. Not a resident (NRIGIRL)
18. Excellent photographer (A SIMPLE BLOGGER)

Puzzling...

2011-06-23T16:50:00.005-04:00

If you read NRIGirl regularly or if I read your blogs regularly, then this is for you. I have tried to build a Cross Word puzzle for you (as if I didn't puzzle you enough already...) Can you try and find you atleast if not try to solve all? No, I can't give you the clue also. You should find your own clue and your own you! Please double click to open full view...

Note: Spaces are given a blank space; but periods are not considered. So if you are "The Blogger" you will take 11 boxes counting the blank; however if you are "A.Blogger" your name will be given only 8 boxes, omiting the period.

Let's see how far you get at it. I promise to share the key with you on my next post!

Across:
1. Doctor Couple
3. Insists on anonymity
6. Home making Dentist wonders why
7. He speaks from Patna
12. Brings us interesting newsbits
13. A cop in London
15. I call her Mom
17. Editor in war against cucumber
19. Fleeting vanity
20. Long time no see

Down:
2. Brewed daily
4. Very handy
5. Painted house
8. Dentist in a room
9. Doctor with a heart
10. Looking for red slippers all over Europe
11. Has writer's block, not gardener's block...
14. Excels the art of story telling in more than one languages
16. Not a resident
18. Not so simple; excellent photographer.

Very handy

2011-06-23T07:55:00.010-04:00

What is very handy? How about a hand made, hand picked, hand delivered hand bag?!

Now stop looking at me as if I am speaking Pokie.

Here's the story:
Mom has hand delivered a beautiful hand bag, hand made by none other than our Mangala and hand picked by our one and only Stranger! Wow! Isn't that something? I am truly blessed!

I must say it is a beautiful piece of art and I really like it. Thank you! Thank you! & Thank you! to all three involved.

Here's a picture to share...

Why burst it before it's time?

2011-06-21T16:34:00.003-04:00

! When the frog I had drawn looked so real to me, to Papa it appeared to be pregnant.

! My painted cow didn't appeal to him either as its head was not proportional to its body.

! When my kids try to put in all the details narrating their daily affairs, I am like, "Come to the point; I don't have all the time in the world to listen to the details".

! When I feel so beautiful in a new sari Israel goes with a frown, "Why now sari?"
! Just when I am out and admiring my new hair cut a friend shakes me up, "Did you cut your hair? Man it is too short!"
! And another time with a longer hair another friend frowns, "Oh my! Go for a hair cut! you look awful in it"

What these little snippets have in common are they are all "Bubble busters" though mostly unintentional.

We are all guilty of bursting someone's bubbles and we can all point to different people in our lives who have busted our bubbles different times. Some stay a permanent scar to the point it wets the corners of our eyes to think of that.

Sharon was about three years old when she was running around so happily and almost fell from the top of a bunk bed and I YELLED! She froze! Pop went her bubble. Even to this day (seven years later) she recalls it with the same sadness it caused her then and there.

There are couples who constantly burst each other's bubbles. What do they gain out of it, God only knows. "I told you so", "You deserve it" , "Why should I care" , "Shut up", "What's your problem" can all easily burst someone's bubbles.

Then there are those who must put down others to "get high". The best we can do is to avoid them lest we become one of them.

A bubble by default is short lived. Why burst it before it's time? Please let them soar as long as it lasts ...

Dennis the Menace

2011-06-21T06:38:00.000-04:00

Dennis the Menace has been one of my favorite cartoon characters. In fact that was the only page I looked forward to in a news paper while in college. After many many years I suddenly thought of Dennis the Menace. So glad to find him online and here are some scenes to share...

My favorite one is him attending to the Pastor at the door. Which is yours if there is one?

Letter to my friends

2011-06-16T08:49:00.003-04:00

Dear Friends! Greetings. Fine here and wish the same. Kindly excuse my long delay in writing a proper post. It's just that life got busy lately. Before it is too long I wanted to write to you.

Tomorrow is the last day of school. Also Mom is arriving from India which is very exciting. I plan on taking Flat Stanley with us but he is not ready yet. If possible I wish to work on him today.

Children are excited of course. Today also they are off and got up early morning around 6:00 AM to promptly watch TV. Television is denied during school days and so they do not miss an opportunity to watch it on holidays. I am hoping to use their help for folding some clothes. Let's see.

It is just 8:29 AM here on Thursday morning. I will be working from home. However I started my day very early as I had to clean up Mom's room and put away things and take care of many other things before my work hours start. In the last 2 1/2 hours I have accomplished a lot more than what I had planned on doing in the past 2 1/2 months!

It is going to be a very busy weekend too. Saturday we have a must-go birthday party to attend and Sunday is Father's Day. I have picked up a red polo shirt for Israel (writing this in confidence that he will not read it...) Red is my favorite color and not his. I hope he will wear it one of these days. I promise to share the pictures when he does.

If I don't get to "see" you all before Sunday, wishing all the Dads a very Happy Fathers Day! Your role in your child's life is irreplaceable. Thank you for doing your best! God bless you!

Friend Always,
~ NRIGirl

Where is Waldo?

2011-06-14T21:30:00.001-04:00

For those of you who are not familiar with Waldo, let me describe him. Waldo is a tall young man in blue pants and red and white striped sweater. He wears glasses and also a matching hat. We were walking together and suddently I lost track of him in the crowd. Can you help me find him?

You may want to double click on the image below to open it bigger in a stand alone browser...

Roadside America

2011-06-12T22:24:00.000-04:00

13 going 30! Ms. Sirisha Billa

2011-06-10T11:32:00.009-04:00

Sirisha Billa is the first daughter of our good friend Ramesh Billa. I have a special affinity towards Sirisha as she was the first baby news from a friend of mine.

We were all young and fresh out of college trying out different ventures at our career when Ramesh my colleague announced he had just had a baby girl the previous day! "Congratulations! Where is the sweet?" was my first response and poor Ramesh hadn't thought of that. However, in an hour or so he returned with a box of sweets to share with all.

Sirisha is now 13 and just as the title suggests, going 30!! Sirisha now has a new title - an author - with the publication of her debut fancy novel Anachronessence. Sirisha is also a great artist and excels in her studies. She is sure a jewel for her parents and a pride for all of us.

The least I can do is 'show her off' and the best you can do is encourage her. Here's Ms.Sirisha one-on-one with NRIGirl talking about her book...

? Congratulations Sirisha and welcome to NRIGirl blog. Appreciate your time and willingness to share with the readers about your book Anachronessence. Can you tell us what it's about and how it all started?
! Anachronessence is basically about a girl who gets caught in two worlds, with two souls living inside her, and two major legacies to uphold--the one that Mother Nature left behind and the one that her true past life left behind. Mix in a trained anakro-assasin, a society she thinks mad, and a group of people that want her dead and not to be reincarnated again, and you have--voila!--Anachronessence.

I guess it all started when I was studying Greek roots in order to do better for a spelling bee. So I was reading the book, and I discovered the word anachronism, which led me to combine some roots and create the word anachronessence. I didn't start writing right then, but instead, it went into my archives. A year or so later, I picked the word up again and created the world of Anachronessence. It took months and months, but I didn't give up, and look where it got me, right?

? What is the inspiration for your book title? What does it mean?
! As I explained before, Anachronessence is a combination of some Greek words and my inspiration for creating it was the word anachronism. Anachronism means either "an error in chronology" or "a person or a thing that is chronologically out of place."

But in this case, Anachronessence means just the essence of a person or thing that keeps going on and on, and is reincarnated. The out of place part comes from the fact that even if this person's essence was born in year 900 b.c. or something, and it is alive now, it is not in its right place.

? Does the main character in the book ever so slightly resemble you?
! Yes, Aydan--the main character does indeed resemble me sometimes. I tried to make it so that people could relate to Aydan. I wanted to make her real to the reader, so I thought first to make her real to me first. So yes, in some aspects, Aydan resembles me and some of the incidents in this story have actually happened to me.

? Do you believe in the multiple personality stuff that you have written about?
! Totally. I believe in anachronessences and I am proud. Anakros can totally be real. Most people believe in an afterlife, a heaven--and I do too. But why not the heaven be the same place, different time? This way, you can't make the same mistakes you made because you have the lives experience and you can live life to its fullest.

? Which age group this book is aimed at?
! I think this book is aimed at people in middle school. I wrote it so it was complicated enough that maybe an advanced fifth-grader could read it, or an average ninth-grader. Or anyone in between!

? A lot of writers struggle with rejection, unsupportive friends or family members, mixed reviews, and their own insecurities. How do you handle that?
! Well, lemme tell ya. I am not a 'lot of writers.' Even though some close people used to believe that my writing was a waste of time, I enjoyed it and I believed I could do it, and here I am. My family was very supportive once they found out how important this was to me. As for mixed reviews, I like constructive criticism and I like knowing that at least this person read the book. My own insecurities? Well I guess the only insecurity I have is that an angry mob will knock down my door and demand to know why I wrote such a crappy book...or something equally hurtful. Besides that, nada. I love writing and that's that.

? What are your goals for the future? Do you have another story on the boiling pot?
! My goals for the future are to complete my studies, write and publish a couple more books, and become famous enough to get my book into a movie! Whoa, wouldn't that be hot? And yeah, I have another story on the boiling pot. It's completely different from Anachronessence, but I love it. :)

? What would you like to say to writers who are reading this interview and wondering if their voices and visions matter enough to share?
! I say "If you want to be heard, you will be." It took me months and months to get this right, and when I finally did, the satisfaction makes me think...oh yeah, it was all worth it. To be able to tell my friends, "Hey guys, my book's out!" is an honor you won't want to miss. And I say "If your vision is strong enough, if you're gutsy enough, and if you've got the support of your loved ones, you can do it. No matter who tells you you can't, don't listen. Look at me--I have a laptop and a hardworking dad and I got my book published didn't I?"

? Would you like to share some tips for aspiring writers on getting their work published?
! Psh, yeah. No one can hurt you unless you let them. When people tell you to give up, keep going. I don't know about you, but I enjoy writing and I want to be able to do this for the rest of my life. I'm thirteen years old, and I did it. But only because I gave up that day with my grandmother to go sightseeing and made some personal sacrifices of my own. You have to be persistent and on top of that, determined. Keep bugging your family until they listen. "Hey Dad! Hey Mom! This is what I want to do!"

? I understand the book is available on amazon.com through which I ordered my copy. If someone wants a signed copy, how can interested parties contact you?
! I guess you'd call my dad?

Apples to Oranges

2011-06-09T12:32:00.002-04:00

Do you ever get this nagging thought on something and you have to get it out? Well, that's what just happend to me. Over the last few weeks I have been hearing the term "comparing apples to apples" a lot that my mind went after it; why we can only compare apples to apples and oranges to oranges and not apples to oranges; the result is the chart below...

Similarities	Differences
Grows in trees	Apples can grow in moderate climate but Oranges grow only in tropical places
Used for juice	Apple juice is transparent while Orange juice is cloudy. Apple is pressed to produce juice, orange is squeezed
Size is comparable	though weight may not be comparable for the same size fruits
Both have seeds	while the color, shape and texture of the seeds are different
Both have great taste mostly sweet when ripe and sour when raw	Apples can be eaten with the skin, but not the oranges
Both are used in cooking	Have distinct flavor
Both have comparable fibre content	But an orange has a lot more vitamin C packed in it (160%) than an apple (10%)
	The internal 'architecture' of apple and orange is different in that apples have no sectioning, whereas oranges are sectioned into 'individually packaged' wedges.
	Apple skin is smooth while orange skin is porous
	An apple a day keeps the doctor away; so when the doctor is smart keep the apple away :) but not the same with Orange
	You cannot upset an apple cart; but an orange cart who cares?
	A for Apple, but not O for Orange but Ostritch
Yeah, I feel much better now... but have I passed on the nagging thoughts to you?! Oh no!

Life is not a laughing matter, or is it?

2011-06-03T12:08:00.013-04:00

I so love to laugh and even more love to hear a hearty laugh. I believe laughing is contagious. Just the sound of laughter like that of a running faucet or scattered coins or bubbling waves or why not even the cry of a goat or anything for that matter, can easily trigger a ripple effect.

Mom's laughter is hearty and loud with a wide spread invitation for others to join. She laughs with eyes closed, hands clapping, head rocking, it is a sight to see. Chithiema (my Aunt) can't resist laughing to Mom's elaborations on funny incidents or even regular happenings. Chithiema mostly laughs covering her mouth with her fingers. I love to make her laugh which lightens me too.

I roll laughing; literally! So, it is best to keep a distance from me when I get going 'ha ha ha ha ha ha...' Israel on the other hand laughs in reserved installments of 'ha ha' and 'he he' and then pauses thinking it over a smile and then goes again 'ha ha' and 'he he'.

I hear a friend of mine laugh and almost always I can visualize clucking chicken that peck on scattered grain, it goes: 'ke ke kkke keke...' Some immediately remind me of Santa Claus with their 'ho ho ho' roaring; while others can remind us of snakes with their laughter going: 'hisssss sisssss sssss...'

It sure is fun listening to laughter that sounds like a sore throated goat: 'nge nge ngeeee...' or why not even a regular goat 'mmhhee...' (no I haven't heard that one, have you?) Then those laughter that ends in a coughing fit like 'kokkum hokkum kok kokkum hokkoum...'

Even the most reserved can't resist laughing though it comes out somewhat suppressed with simply a shaking of their shoulders and nodding of their heads and a wider than normal smile from ear to ear and a bleak attempt at 'hmm hmmm hh'. Trust me, that is fun to watch as well as it makes you feel better that you could amuse them somehow.

Best of all is a mixture of all or some of the above, starting with hissing and ending in coughing via some clucking. Right, I am a little too much. No, not an attempt to make fun. Only an up-close look at life, I mean laughter!