I am in one of those shallow feel good not so low days, usually the kind of days that I stay away from my blogging. It has to be in either extremes. then why am I here? well, got reading over the last couple of weeks, a habit that had long been in hibernation. More and more, words form thoughts as ideas, and just the fact that it would be really really stupid and strange to speak everything that comes to mind, the fact that sometimes the thoughts are so very random.
then got into a roll of reading some really well written blogs, and in some places the writing was real damn good that just couldn't help following the train of thought and taking it further. Got me further thinking. As I read other bloggers I realize that I will never ever be close to a good writer. Folks who can put the kind of words that explain a thousand thoughts are writers. Me on the other hand, I put thousand words to describe one thought! Well, anyways again the monsoon, the movie, some bit of reading did the trick! Things people do!
Monday, June 29, 2009
Needs to be salvaged!!
Saw the new Terminator Salvation today, and one word which came to my mind after the movie was over was Whew! can't really put a finger as to what is wrong with the movie, but it doesn't quite carry the effect of 1 or 2.
The highlight of the film is obviously the special effects, and the second hero's role. Other than that, oh well, nothing much. There was a feeling of nausea at times during the loooooooonnng sequences of machine fights and what not, and the plot of the movie looked like it was a mix of matrix and the old terminator, and for some strange reason, the bad from both!
agreed sequels generally can be tough on directors, but this shouldn't have been taken to this extremes of streotype and predictablity that irritates people.
oh well, now planning to watch a movie or two to even get to sleep... night show sometimes is not such a good idea.
The highlight of the film is obviously the special effects, and the second hero's role. Other than that, oh well, nothing much. There was a feeling of nausea at times during the loooooooonnng sequences of machine fights and what not, and the plot of the movie looked like it was a mix of matrix and the old terminator, and for some strange reason, the bad from both!
agreed sequels generally can be tough on directors, but this shouldn't have been taken to this extremes of streotype and predictablity that irritates people.
oh well, now planning to watch a movie or two to even get to sleep... night show sometimes is not such a good idea.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Change
Change-seems to be the period of year, nothing can keep constant. personally, professionaly, It almost seems like a airbourne disease. Well, as much as I thrive for some change, some changes like the ones that I'm going through right now gives me jitters as if I'm caught in the middle of whirlwind. Small doses I can handle, but this?? Hope I don't get OD'd by it!
Only memory remains
The minute I clicked on 'publish post' on the earlier blog, I started thinking about my most favourite grandparent, my maternal grandmother. After a note on my granddad, I felt that I wanted to write a note about how I feel about my paati who also recently died. Words started forming in my head as to what would best describe her and I'll try to mention them before they disappear. Like I said in my earlier post, no visit to 'aynavaram' would be complete without thatha's' stories. Well, to my earliest memories, no visit ever didn't begin without my paati's food. The minute we landed home there, we would run down into the house to surprise her of our arrival. And I used to love the expression that she had when she figures out that we're there. After making general enquiries that only paati's are capable of, (why are you so thin was her usual opener after a few initial greetings, which never fail to amaze me as on everybody else's general opinion I was anything but thin!) she would then immediately ask as usual whether we had food, and any response would still be treated as no. So after launching herself into kitchen, she'd guide me to either thatha's room or to meet my uncles and nephews depending on who is immediately free at that moment. Many a times I have woken up my poor thatha on his sunday naps upon the insistence of my paati, little did I realize then that she didn't want anyone at the kitchen when she sets off to put together our favourite part of the visit...... Food!! Her food was very simple, just a sambar with piping hot rice and a few curries finished up with curd or buttermilk. By far, there is one person in the food department who excels in serving more quantity and quality than everyone else put together - that's my Mom! Guests visiting our home usually means atleast a 4 course meal, sometimes more than that!! Anyways, during the time the food is getting ready, she'd settle into a routine of enquiring about how I am, how is the work going, and when will I ever get married, etc. Usually my goofy smile in response to all these questions would leave her shaking her head like I'm some sort of retard, and she would launch into one of her innumerable stories of how this boy, who is of my age, who is her sister's nephew's grandson or something to that effect, and talk about how he has 'settled' in his life.. moral of the story, get married. That last line again would be for me to take a hint and move about to other places in the house, while my sisters get their dose of paati's sisters, brother-in-law's 4th granddaughter who is well off and settled... the same drill, different example. then after helping ourselves generously, we would be hopelessly trapped into her launching attacks on my grooming, my manners, my height, and anything she could think of. Usually, by this time an aunt or an uncle would join us, and we would more often than not go into some tangent conversation that it would be a good couple of hours of idle chat. There would be sometime within the day when she would conspiratorially call me and hand me a 'special' sweet or a gift. Not for anyone else's eyes!! Over my life growing up, I've never seen or felt any other grandparent obsess over grandkids the way she did. She was always an emotional potpourri, happy, angry, sad, cynical, and more of a compulsive 'carer'/provider for anyone who comes to her. Will always miss that attention, that special 'apple of eye' grandkid feeling that only she gave.
Now more than ever I feel grown up, when all that was reminding me of a childhood are being taken away, very quickly becoming only as memory, fear is that this too might eventually fade away in the mad rush of life.
Now more than ever I feel grown up, when all that was reminding me of a childhood are being taken away, very quickly becoming only as memory, fear is that this too might eventually fade away in the mad rush of life.
Simple pleasures of life
One of the long lasting impressions that I have of my grandfather who passed away recently is how simple and uncomplicated he led his life till the end. As one amongst the very many grandchildren of his, my interactions with him were few and sometimes far between, especially in the recent past. I admit that I was not the 'ideal' grandson for him.... but as a kid growing up, when we used to visit his place, it was always special. My fond memories growing up, when we used to visit the 'Aynavaram' house experience was always complete only when we (me and my sisters) got a story from him. We used to wait at the porch at the evenings and even if we had school the next day, would stay back atleast till 8 PM for him to return from his work.
He had a wonderful routine that he almost never used to miss - go to his business by 7.30-8 from home, catch a bus to Parrys, be at work till closure, usually around 7, and return home in bus usually by 8 in the evening. Once there, if we were visiting, usually once a month on a weekend, he used to go to his room, put down the important documents in his locker, then have a bath, and after that would call us out to the porch outside (he never liked indoors when he wanted to sit and talk) and would then start a story on ramayana, mahabharatha, or sometimes jakarta tales... it always used to be a short tale, as he was aware that our parents wanted us to return home in time to sleep and be ready for the next day at school, yet he also knew that if we were pulled home without a complete story we wouldn't let it rest and throw tantrums all night long on our way back home. It's these kind of qualities that I still carry with me as memory of my granddad. I'm sure there is the stressful, angry, stubborn, etc. side to him that I've not come across at all. I've heard of some thru my mom, granny, other uncles and aunts, but then he's never been any of that to me. I always did and will admire him for being the silent karta, the kind of person who is distinctly 'uncurious' in any affairs that did not affect him or his family, an uncontroversial person, who loved talking to people about things that he wanted to share, the good things in life. In this ever changing world that we are all living, if there's only one insecurity that he felt and sometimes expressed to me, was that sometimes he expressed concerns about lack of reciprocating love to parents and grandparents. Ofcourse we never felt this way about him at all, and I was too young then to understand where he came from in terms of me or any of my sisters feeling this way about him, but over the last few years growing up with less of him in the family's thick of things, I am beginning to get an idea of what transpired early on with my parents life and how he felt probably that he might have not done the best that he could do during those times. He might have assumed that my parents might have shared some of their experiences with us, but they were respectful of all my grandparents in spite of the very many events that transpired much before my time. I thank my parents for that, as I had an opportunity to grow up without any clouded opinions. A distinction between my paternal grandparents and maternal grandparents in my eyes was that my dad's parents always felt respect and pride about the family, and my mother's parents were always more loving, 'reachable' and caring. My mother's dad was all this.
I miss my granddad, miss him for not being there, and will always cherish the memories and his way of enjoying simple pleasures of life.
He had a wonderful routine that he almost never used to miss - go to his business by 7.30-8 from home, catch a bus to Parrys, be at work till closure, usually around 7, and return home in bus usually by 8 in the evening. Once there, if we were visiting, usually once a month on a weekend, he used to go to his room, put down the important documents in his locker, then have a bath, and after that would call us out to the porch outside (he never liked indoors when he wanted to sit and talk) and would then start a story on ramayana, mahabharatha, or sometimes jakarta tales... it always used to be a short tale, as he was aware that our parents wanted us to return home in time to sleep and be ready for the next day at school, yet he also knew that if we were pulled home without a complete story we wouldn't let it rest and throw tantrums all night long on our way back home. It's these kind of qualities that I still carry with me as memory of my granddad. I'm sure there is the stressful, angry, stubborn, etc. side to him that I've not come across at all. I've heard of some thru my mom, granny, other uncles and aunts, but then he's never been any of that to me. I always did and will admire him for being the silent karta, the kind of person who is distinctly 'uncurious' in any affairs that did not affect him or his family, an uncontroversial person, who loved talking to people about things that he wanted to share, the good things in life. In this ever changing world that we are all living, if there's only one insecurity that he felt and sometimes expressed to me, was that sometimes he expressed concerns about lack of reciprocating love to parents and grandparents. Ofcourse we never felt this way about him at all, and I was too young then to understand where he came from in terms of me or any of my sisters feeling this way about him, but over the last few years growing up with less of him in the family's thick of things, I am beginning to get an idea of what transpired early on with my parents life and how he felt probably that he might have not done the best that he could do during those times. He might have assumed that my parents might have shared some of their experiences with us, but they were respectful of all my grandparents in spite of the very many events that transpired much before my time. I thank my parents for that, as I had an opportunity to grow up without any clouded opinions. A distinction between my paternal grandparents and maternal grandparents in my eyes was that my dad's parents always felt respect and pride about the family, and my mother's parents were always more loving, 'reachable' and caring. My mother's dad was all this.
I miss my granddad, miss him for not being there, and will always cherish the memories and his way of enjoying simple pleasures of life.
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