Tummy blues

Was waling out of the house in the morning last week, and saw this flower just about to release...


Somehow the word "bloom" doesn't fit this flower. It almost looks animal like, the way the thin film pulls back as the flower emerges leaving behind a shell like coating. Reminds you more of a chick coming out of an egg!



I wish to be this flower. That after all the much promised analysis!

Last week ended with me being very sick. So sick that the kids were alarmed at seeing me like that. I made the mistake of eating in a local Indian Restaurant (under new cook and new management.. more on that later!) and my system could not digest a simple Masala dosa from this place. The end result? I was like a steam engine with a serious clog!

My stomach had bloated to proportions that even I had not seen. Jr. came to me and said "Daddy, you look like a mommy, daddy! Like when they have big tummies and the baby is going to come out." That was funny and depressing at the same time. Funny because she was so innocent, depressing because I was in lot of pain.

Thanks to San's grandma, I was saved. On her last visit, she had sent us this special version of "Deepavali marundhu" which works on my insides much the same way Draino works on clogged plumbing. Took an overdose of the stuff and a few hours later, I was not looking like a mommy anymore.. not that there is anything wrong with that! On a side note, please remember, we are not talking about San's mom aka my MIL. We are talking about her Grandma who happens to be my MIL's MIL aka my GIL!

I have no clue what the ingredients are in this stuff she made. It seriously warrants a study by the likes of Pfizer, Merck, etc.. and needs to be mass manufactured and be made available to middle aged dudes like me!

On serious thought, I need to do some serious readjustments to my lifestyle..

Summary of a conversation with San on Sat:
1. Should start eating healthy again. Less oil. More greens. Less carbs. More protein. (whatever you can do, while still being veggie!)
2. Start exercising at least for 20 minutes a day
3. Get at least 6-7 hours sleep every day.
4. Meditate at least 15 minutes a day.

What actually happened on Sunday (it was cold, windy and lousy outside):
1.Told San that it was the perfect weather to make Bhajji (so I made some nice deep fried delicious potato bhajji's)
2. Too cold to go out and exercise!
3. Catching up with work for missing out on friday afternoon. No nap as planned.
4. Attempts to meditate were interrupted by my angels who were worried that daddy was going to sleep while sitting. They would effortlessly put Rambha, Urvasi and Menaka to shame. Viswamitra would not have had half the chance of finishing his penance, with Jr. and the little one around. They physically open your eyelids and stare inside!

Yes, it was 0/4, but tomorrow is another day, or so they tell me. Still dreaming of being that flower....

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Pondering.. Pondering... more Pondering..

Here is a hypothetical question.

Let's say you are a dude in his mid thirties, busy as a bee at work, busy as a bee at home, yet you are described by your wife as a "rubberband (elastic band)" and when asked to elaborate she says "you stretch to your limits and either implode or break!" and you have been

Pondering

Pondering and

more Pondering..

Is there any way out of this vicious cycle?
Maybe take a break and go to the himalayas and consult the wise sages?
Maybe join some club that does PAM (pot assisted meditation?) along the famous Yogi's of Beetle's days?
Maybe meditate in the living room?
Maybe just start exercising?
Maybe get some sleep?
Maybe see a shrink?

Now that is too many hypothetical questions and we all know that they are not hypothetical....

It is time for some rethinking on my side. I keep falling sick every three weeks simply because ........

I dont Know!

A thorough analysis will be done using Eastern medicine, Western medicine, the occult, the cult, theology, philosophy etc. and a report will be published in this blog.... soon... more like tomorrow!

Until then, ta ta!

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If the Shoe fits!

It is a world renowned fact that Jr. is the three millionth, four hundred and thirty five thousandth, two hundred and fourth, avatar of Cindarella!

Although she was born five plus years ago, she realized that she was doll incarnate, only a few months ago in downtown Santa Barbara, where she had gone with her family on a magical vacation. It is when she had "the shoe fit" moment.

The story began in the year 2002. A beautiful girl was born in the land of Silicon. Her dad named her Jr. and as days went by, when her life was chronicled in great detail by her dad, she was understanding something very profound. She was just another girl. She had always wanted to be a princess from the time she was born.

Everywhere she turned, she saw them. Those girls on TV, DVD's, toys, cousins, little girls who showed up at their door on Halloween, with their puffy white and pink gowns, tiaras and little "princessy" staffs which looked very much like magic wands made in bulk somewhere in a land far away. She wanted to be one herself, "so so so much!".

She grew up, learnt to speak and eventually read and write and found out all about Cindarella, the mother of all Princesses! Oh the beauty, the grandeur, the advertising. It was all pervasive and the trips to Disneyland only made her longing even more serious. That was when she found out about the shoe. She needed glass slippers, with the Disney castle logo and "Made in China" written on the bottom to make her a princess, and it had to be worth it. "King daddy should be able to fork out a fortune to see if they fit, should he not?" she told herself.

That is when the evil mother and evil grandmother came into the picture. "Cut, Cut, Cut!" Jr. said. "There is only a fairy godmother in Cindarella. No evil mother and grandmother! You are confusing Snow White and Cindarella Daddy!", she said.

Her daddy just laughed. "Honey, we are living in 2007 and you are a Desi Kid. Of course there will be mothers and grandmothers in the story. Learn to deal with it!", came the reply.

Just as Jr. would try any shoe at any store as she went from zero to five years old, her maternal lineage would chip in with "VaLarra Kuzhandhai! Rendu size perusa Vaangungo. Veetukku porathukkula shoe chinnada poidum", which was the Tamizh equivalent of:

"Salagadoola mechicka boola bibbidi-bobbidi-boo
Put 'em together and what have you got
bibbidi-bobbidi-boo.."

and when translated to English with a heavy Tamizh accent meant,

"She is a growing child! Buy two sizes bigger. By the time we buy a shoe and go home, the shoes we buy become too small for her feet!"

Junior would never become Juniorella in her first five years. She would be seen flopping around in shoes, slippers, sandals, glass slippers, etc. which were either too small for her or two sizes bigger. Till that night!

Oh, how could she forget that night! They had gone on a beautiful vacation to Santa Barbara and were about to return home the next morning when her shoes just gave in. It was cold outside and the entire family just rushed to the nearest "payless" shoe store for fear of her catching a cold and ruining the new year celebration with the cousins!

Jr. went through a bunch of shoes which were either too expensive, not her size, not her color, not her type, not her mothers type, not her grandmothers type, not nice enough to make her sister jealous, too boyish, too cheesy, too open for winter, too high tech , too low tech, and on and on and on.

It was almost like the Cindarella story. The only difference was that in the original the same shoe was "tried" by a zillion girls before it found the right girl, and in the Juniorella version, the same girl was "tired" trying a zillion shoes before she found the right shoe!

That is when she saw it. The thin, simple, silver and black "D" shoe. It was actually a Champion shoe which for some weird reason had the "C" written like a "D". Daddy told her that the C was for Cindarelli, but she called it the D shoe and when she walked up and down that aisle, for the first time she realized, "It fit!"

Mother and Grandmother promptly started singing..

"Salagadoola rendu suththoola bibbidi-bobbidi-boo
Put 'em together and what have you got
romba chinna shoe.."

The store was about to close. Everyone had been sent out. The "Open" sign was changed to "Closed" and the big but nice African American lady who managed the store came up to daddy and said "Sir. We are closing as soon as you decide!". Time was running out. The whole payless store was about to turn into a nightmarish experience for Jr. at the stroke of 8:00. When there were only a few seconds left and the extended family was almost out of the door, Daddy took the box and Jr., whipped out his credit card and said "ring it up!"

As the clocks chimed eight times...

out walked "Juniorella"!

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