Parsley and Thyme

Archive for February 2009

Pati, patni and woh

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He suddenly smiles at me from our balcony while I am casting loving glances at him. It has been a busy day and I am relaxing on the sofa for a few minutes, watching him from a distance. And I am engrossed – admiring the way his thick black mop of hair falls over his innocent dark eyes. I smile back, and he indicates to me that he is aware of my love for him, as well as of his own good looks. He goes back to his activity and I decide to read the newspaper.

Five minutes pass, and he is feeling my lack of attention. He gets up from his place on the balcony with an angry frown on his flawless face, walks over and gives me a hard whack on my thigh. I am startled, but not unnerved – this is usual, I think. Living with him over the years, I have learnt how to get him back into his best humour. I get up, give him a tight hug and ask him what he would like to have for dinner. That perhaps sounds assuaging – he gives me a wide grin and plants a kiss on my cheek, proving to me once again the truth in the age-old proverb that establishes the indelible connection between men and food. Now, c’mon…you know which one!

Though he shakes his head in refusal to the each one of the items on the victual medley that I suggest thereafter, I continue. Knowing that most items on our menu have to possess his seal of approval – a ritual that I have so willingly become accustomed to since the time I met and fell head-over-heel(less) in love with him. After turning down the ninth item on my menu for the evening (men can be so demanding and women so subservient), he finally agrees to settle down for his simple favorite – dosa, sambar and chutney. 

Well, that settles the dinner for the night, I say to myself and walk over to the kitchen to get it running. A few hours later, my husband walks in, back from office and heads over to the kitchen where I am still engaged. He looks over at the preparations for dinner and exclaims – “Oh, dosa ?”. I reply “Yeah, he wanted it tonight”. Dear hubby looks over at the young man who decides most of what we say, eat or do these days without a hint of jealousy. As I wait for his reaction, my husband says “I love you little Chikoo” and runs over to hug our oh-so-little son.

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Written by Kanchana

February 18, 2009 at 11:31 am

Posted in Chikoo

Tagged with ,

Who Am I

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A beautiful poem by Sri Aurobindo on the nature of the Self :

I have thrown me from the whirling dance of mind
And stand now in the spirit’s silence free,
Timeless and deathless beyond creature-kind,
The centre of my own eternity.

I have escaped and the small is dead;
I am immortal, alone, ineffable;
I have gone out from the universe I made,
And have grown nameless and immeasurable.

My mind is hushed in a wide and endless light,
My heart a solitude of delight and peace,
My sense unsnared by touch and sound and sight,
My body a point in white infinities.

I am the one Being’s sole immobile Bliss:
No one I am, I who am all that is.

Written by Kanchana

February 14, 2009 at 12:03 pm

Posted in Metaphysical

Toys from trash

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Though we Indians have recycling built into our blood, there are so many simple and meaningful ways to recycle that can SO escape our eyes – especially mine.

Proof. I just stumbled on this small-but-amazing Indian project called “Toys from Trash” which so beautifully details how you can use household trash to create toys for children. Something that we were so accustomed with during our own childhood due to the rarity of branded toys, but something that I have so totally forgotten to introduce my own son to.

Just look inside this site and you will see that the range of imagination is enormous – you can make LEDs glow by rigging up a circuitry with potato (!), build a “balloon helicopter” that actually flies, or work a cool little trick with some strands of wool and a matchbox. Browsing through this site brought back my own childhood memories – of how a group of us friends would gather discarded “Liv 52” bottles, string them together across the length with a gaint needle and thread (“borrowed” from my mother’s precious sewing kit that I never had official access to), and pretend that it was a train that would take us along to undiscovered lands. What fun that was! More than a million “Fischer Price” or “Funskool” toys could ever give, for it was built with pairs of grubby little hands always looking to create something new. 

I am rekindled. Though Chikoo is going to get his fair share of toys-on-the-shelf (well, what choice do “modern” parents have?), we will surely teach him to build a few of his own. And witness simple pleasures again.

Written by Kanchana

February 12, 2009 at 11:29 am

Posted in Life in General

They “rose” to the occasion

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While the Sri Rama Sene activists are still enjoying their five minutes of fame, I was just tempted to add my two cents to all the discussion that’s been going on, and on, and on… Last week, I came upon this news item from the Times of India on what Pramod Muthalik had to say to Mrs Renuka Chowdhury’s verbal emesis regarding his V day ultimatum :

” Being a bachelor does not mean that I do not know anything about love. I am born in a cultured family. I love my parents, sisters and brothers. I welcome her to Bangalore on February 14, as she intends to come here.” 

Ummm… Mrs. Chowdhury’s comments on his bachelorhood and consequent ignorance of some matters of the heart seems to have really dug into the gentleman’s self-esteem. Though I think Mrs.Chowdhury is going so ballistic with this one that she often gives the impression of an offended school bully, I thank her for the amusement that she has provided me with her statements on otherwise routine mornings.

And I am totally amused by the fact that of all the statements that the Hon’ble Minister has made against the Muthalik man, the one that he chose to reply to seems to be so strongly connected with his sense of self. I mean, what are the odds that a happily married man with say, seven children, would organize an army of uncouth and presumably jobless youth into revolting against PDA ? Funny huh ?

Though I possess no great affection for the mathematical angles of probablity that this previous question may invoke, my feminine intuition goads me to say “Absolutely nought”. And this next statement on the news piece left me in greater splits than the entire explanation of righteousness given by Mr. Muthalik :

However, he did not comment on whether he would accept a rose given by Renuka with sisterly affection, if she were to.

Now, nobody confirmed with Mrs. Chowdhury first, but I guess the joke was lost on this magnanimous man. If she would indeed like to experience what it feels like to have an absurdly protective brother who roams around town ready to marry his sister off to the first guy that he spots her with on Valentine’s Day, I daresay she will find no other man like Mr Muthalik. Ever.

Written by Kanchana

February 11, 2009 at 11:27 am

Posted in Humor, Life in General

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