Temple Run

Raania has been overawed by the iPad game- and she plays it like a pro. She artfully runs/ dodges/ gets the coins - requiring just a wee bit of help while swiping to turn.

Her favourite character is Karma Lee with her red hair and embroidered jeans. She also likes Barry Bones (Baiee Bones) just the way he is and Guy Dangerous just because he has 'dangerous' in his name (her Dadi had once showed her a pic of a polar bear in Reader's Digest and said it was dangerous - since then it's stuck as something fantastic).

One day- we played the game at least 25 times, if not less, so much so that when I closed my eyes I could see only coins and my character running. For a wild moment I wondered what if life was an iPad game? 

How would it play out? Would I have different avatars- different roles- like I keep juggling every day...

Would scenarios change too? Market, home, study, bedroom...

What laurels would I achieve by completing a set of tasks? 

Would leader boards define me any different, just because of the motherly love I felt for my unique baby?

But

Looking after your children is a thankless task- and no one appreciates the common housewife- however well educated she may be.

The pace of life may not be an iPad game, but unlike the game- you do not get lauded for any High Scores. 

Life's too ordinary to be an iPad game.

Memories...

... Hide the corners of my mind 

Misty water coloured memories 

Of the way we were... 

 As I googled through my estranged best friend's links, this song provided an apt hazy background score- interspersed with images of girlie laughter, warm shafts of sunlight punctuating stone corridors, ribboned pigtails, a flash of smoke in the chemistry lab and our secret getaway beneath the library. 

The best part of my school years were shaped and defined by my friendship with her. 

Yet where was she now- hidden among blue and red links - half a name here, a pixelated photograph there? 

I chanced upon her newborn son's album on a photo sharing site and drank in the images eagerly- looking for clues to prove her married existence but there were none. 

Was this golden friendship sacrificed for a few thousand rupees or was there something deeper to her personality that I wasn't able to fathom- something that developed post those school years? 

When you're young, the world is yours to conquer. It's only when you have scaled a few summits that you realise that the joy is diminishing and there's more fun in sitting at the base, enjoying the future smoky rings that your partner is blowing.  

There's a deep contentment that steals over you and robs you of action. It's then that your mind whirrs to those memories and voices perk you to search for her once more. 

But a heap of unanswered emails and ignored friend requests later, you are left alone in your cocoon. 

Wondering if she feels the same, and wallowing in pity over the answer because its a plain no.

Those little grey cells...

Of late, I've become besotted with Hercule Poirot (Ercule Poiho) and watch almost an episode a day on YouTube.

As each melodious episode commenced, I re-visited my childhood with the series montage - triangles fading into Poirot's face and the lilt of the saxophone brought back Sunday mid-mornings and late brunches when my parents used to watch Poirot on DD and I'd lurk around- not understanding anything but being intrigued by this odd penguin-type man.

Decades later, I'm still enthralled by him.

Played to perfection by David Suchet- accompanied by Captain Hastings in his sing-song soothing British accent and the silently efficient Ms Lemon, I watch each episode with great enthusiasm. I also remember some of the Agatha Christie books I've read in a decade so long ago...

I love the way he wears his napkin tucked into his collar and the delicate way he dabs at his lips after eating or drinking. His signature lemon tea (tisanè) with three sugar cubes - in a tall glass with a steel holder. His swan/ peacock headed walking stick and his impeccably matching gloves and hat. Plus the delightful accent and the way he smiles, like a regular imp, with his moustache curling up and small eyes twinkling with the mischief of a thousand stars.

The London scene- newly invented clanky automobiles, beautifully coiffured ladies, creaking wooden staircases... Ah the aura of a golden time!

Of course I try to second-guess him but am not successful all the time.

It's much better than just reading his adventures- the moving picture stays with you so long!

Image courtesy: Wikipedia

Rainy Rain Days

It's been almost two weeks since the first showers hit Mumbai. I remember the date because I had just had all the cartons and miscellaneous toys and accessories kept in the window ledges sent over to my sister-in-law's garage for safekeeping. And I had just written my English exam that day. The welcome smell of the rains, promising relief from the burning summer heat was coupled with a brief power cut. Now R has never seen a proper power cut in Mumbai. True- it happened more often when we were visiting Nanu in Noida but because of the large inverter there, she didn't realise when the power returned.

On that day, suddenly everything went black. I held onto her tiny hand, fearful that she may walk into a toy or worse, a wall. However, she was mesmerised by the lone candle that cook lit and kept on the table, far from her reach.

R: happy to you?

Me: yes, happy birthday to you (and we sing a little to get rid of the five second long boredom)

R: chalao iPad

Me: (putting on her favourite Balam Pichkari) here you go

And she's suitably entertained for the ten-odd minutes that we are plunged into darkness as she voices the words in the cutest manner possible.

I remember when the power would go off in Lucknow. We would ascend to the terrace and having spread out the charpais, proceed to swat off mosquitoes with handheld newspapers and magazines and drift off to sleep in the cool breeze. Ma would wake us up when lights came back and we would clamber onto our beds half asleep - with the promise of this story to be told at school.

When the inverter came along, it robbed us of this joy too. We would simply congregate in one room and adjust ourselves to the lone whirring fan and fall asleep. No story for next day.

Now I stay in Mumbai where power cuts are as rare as a blue moon. My daughter will never understand the fun of a cool breezy night under a canopy of stars or the sheer joy of dissecting your own power-related story in school!

New Learning

Been away from this space long & a lot has happened in between. Ever since I gave birth to beautiful Raania two years ago, my life completed one set of goals. The next set took considerable time to be formulated (given that the first set took about eight years to form, implement and fructify) - so for little over a year I mulled and stared at the wall- imagining various kinds of goals for self.

And oh yes- in that one year- also wrote a few stories which got kinda rejected the way they were - in their raw unedited form by an agent (didn't bother with a list- one rejection was enough to send my fragile ego spilling as tears on the bathroom floor). So while I pretended that it wasn't a big deal (in retrospect - it wasn't!) I whiled away time watching old movies on YouTube and reading popular fiction by the dozen. Then a chance conversation with an old school friend set the rusty mental clogs turning once more. Yes, time to study.

Successful completion of assignment and I was ready to take the exam. Out of four subjects, could manage reading and answering only one subject properly. Of course, I started studying very late and with just about two or three hours in the day to study, with a bawling toddler, full home and Ma's ill-health, I thought of giving up the exam so many times.

But I guess somewhere old motivation sprang up and I studied really hard.

That I couldn't remember half the points I meticulously made on my phone, while writing the exam is another story, but all this, in a nutshell is where I've been.

I've discovered and appreciated that 'brevity is the soul of wit' and to write better, one needs to choose words very carefully.

Hopefully I will be able to implement my learning soon! Meanwhile, stories on my other blog.