The Little Prince

There are books that make you smile. Books that make you laugh. Books that make you cry, books that make you think. And there are books that make you do all that and much more. Books that change the way you look at life. Books that leave something so beautiful with you, in you, that it can never be lost. Today I read one such book. The Little Prince by Saint Exupery. I picked up this little illustrated book at the Blossoms Book Fair. I don't know if I had heard about it before but there it lay, among all those books – tiny, yellow and lovable – looking like a children’s book. The blurb seemed interesting and it was priced humbly at Rs. 50. And so I brought it home. Now, when I think of it – if… If I had left it there, in the sea of other books, I would have never known what I had missed.

I am not going to review the book because such innocent beauty is not to be reviewed but experienced. And for that you simply must read it. I finished it on the bus, on my way and back from the library. It’s the kind of book you wish never ends. On the brighter side, you can always let your own imagination accompany the Little Prince into his world, when the story ends.

It’s about the little prince who leaves his own planet to explore the universe. He meets many interesting people on this journey and it is finally a fox on earth that reveals to him the secret of what is really important in life.

A few lines from the book that made me smile and think:

“All grown-ups were once children – although few of them remember it.”

“Grown-ups always need to have things explained.”

“Grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them.”

“Grown-ups love figures. When you tell them that you have made a new friend, they never ask you any questions about essential matters. They never say to you, “What does his voice sound like? What games does he love best? Does he collect butterflies?” Instead they demand: “How old is he? How many brothers has he? How much money does his father make?””

“It is such a secret place, the land of tears.”

“One must require from each one the duty which each one can perform.”

“Conceited people never hear anything but praise.”

“For it is possible for a man to be faithful and lazy at the same time.”

“One only understands the things that one tames.”

And of course there’s the fox’ secret. But I implore you to read the book for it. We all know the secret already but sometimes it takes a tiny book or a little kid to remind us what it is. I may have misled you into believing that it is some sort of propaganda against adults. No. On the contrary, it takes all its readers, kids and adults, on a beautiful journey that oozes positivity and innocence.

I always feel “growing up” is equated with behaving in a “certain” way. And we all put up “certain” pretenses to look “sane” and “mature”, which is perfectly fine. But somewhere, we are all innocent little kids and it is important for each of us to get in touch with that lovable part of ourselves. It’s too beautiful to be lost. J

I hope I have given you enough gyaan to go and get that little gem of a book and read it. If you have already read the book, I am sure you loved it enough not to be bored by reading about it here. If you didn't like the book … well, we need to talk, buddy. We seriously need to talk.

PS: This is my 100th post! I just noticed it after publishing the post. Finally...century! I am so glad my 100th post is about such a beautiful book. Yay!

Have an awesome week, people! 

A much-needed break at Rice Village Homestay, Alappuzha

We all need to recharge ourselves once in a while. Delaying a holiday can affect you in ways more than one. Decreased productivity at work, grumpiness, irritability, and a general lack of interest and enthusiasm are symptoms that call for immediate attention. And so my parents took it quite seriously when I started whining about taking a break at some quiet place. It seems my sister had been bugging her hubby too. And so the plan was made. Acha, Amma, my sister, bil, my little nephew Siddhu, and I packed our bags and left to Alappuzha – the Venice of the East, to spend a good two days at Rice Village Homestay.

Now this place, Rice Village, is situated near Nedumudi, Alappuzha. Mr. Boban Alex, the owner of the homestay had told my father over the phone that after reaching point so-and-so, we would be escorted to the resort. We parked the car at this place and waited for our host to arrive. A tall man with a broad grin came to receive us and said that we had to take a boat to get there. Our home-stay was on the other bank of the backwaters. I instantly knew that this place was going to be really exciting. We got into his little canoe that kept dancing as we got in one by one.

Siddhu was really excited as it was his first boat ride. We saw luxurious houseboats, tiny boats, ducks, herons and other birds as our oarsman took his little canoe to the other side. And we gaped at the picturesque place we were to spend a couple of days in, when we reached there. From here, I should let the pictures tell the tale.

That's Rice Village Home-Stay!

A closer view ...

That's the entrance (pic taken from inside the house)

The rustic path outside the house...

And a view to die for, right in front! 

It even had lil Siddhu in a contemplative mood ...

Now this is where we were served our meals. Breakfast, lunch, tea and dinner, facing a beautiful garden and a wonderful view of the backwaters. Could we ask for more? May be some more of that yummy Karimeen Pollicathu by Biju chettan, the cook. 

The pic doesn't do it full justice. It was just right - the fish, the spices, everything. 

A closer look at the dining area ...

And there were these comfy wooden chairs in the verandah ...

Siddhu putting up his legs - literally. 

And what's a trip without good food? We were served a very homely and delicious fare during all the meals. The highlight being, Karimeen or Pearl Spot fish of course. There was also the famed duck roast. Let me confirm it, it's not over-rated. It was Delicious with a capital 'D'.

Sunset at Alappuzha Beach

There were plenty of foreign tourists nearby. Most of them on houseboats that did the rounds through most part of the day. 

Did I miss the garden, the hostess maintains? Here are the pics:

All in all, we had a lovely holiday. The house in traditional Kerala-style architecture is just three years old, yet it has the charm of a house belonging to a different era. Part of it might be because it is built using the wood of an age-old house that was being scrapped. The walls are lined with wood and there are also wooden pillars in the verandah. The wood on the roof, inside the building is all done using the well-kept remains of an old house. 

The family was very hospitable. The owners' little kids, Rose and Riya, were warm company too. They kept Siddhu and me occupied and were glad to show us around the place. 

Riya and Siddhu busy playing. 

Breaks like these remind you that there's 'life' waiting out there. I am all refreshed and recharged but I really can't say that I am looking forward to going back to work. While I deal with the after-holiday blues, there are loads of sweet memories about the trip to ensure that my smile and spirits stay right in place! 

Have a great week ahead! :) 

With best retards

Once a pompous entrepreneur named Nattu invited a few of his employees for dinner. The invitees were working closely with the boss on a lucrative deal. They had been working hard and Mr. Nattu felt they deserved a treat at his sprawling villa, nothing less. Mr. Nattu’s wife, Mrs. Nancy Nattu, was the owner of a swanky café, ‘Na-Na’ (coined by Mrs. Nattu, of course). She was a great cook. On this particular occasion, Mrs. Nattu had volunteered to do all the cooking herself.

She had carefully charted out the menu and cooked with love and care. She made vegetable pilaf seasoned with saffron and roasted almonds; Chicken Kebabs, Paneer Tikka Masala, and Shahi Mutton Korma. She decided to serve her famous Na-Na Ice cream de la crème for dessert. The ice cream was a rich affair in vanilla ice cream and Italian meringue topped with chocolate sauce, assorted nuts, and chocolate chips.  

Everyone showered compliments on Mrs. Nattu for her exemplary cooking and hospitality. Only Suresh, a shy, geeky young man (as Nattu described him to Nancy) was silent. It wasn’t in his nature to voice his thoughts but this time he couldn’t have said a word even if he had wanted to. Foodie that he was, he was simply enamored by Mrs. Nattu’s cooking.

That night, after getting home, he quickly sent an email to Mr. Nattu before going to bed. He was drunk with sleep after the filling dinner but he had to tell Mr. Nattu how wonderful it was. He wrote a lovely letter praising the Nattus for their warm company and the delicious food.

In office the next day, Nattu told Suresh that he was fired with immediate effect. A depressed and flabbergasted Suresh went home. He opened his mail box and saw the dismissal letter which said that he was dismissed on grounds of “irresponsible behaviour” that was “unprofessional” and which “seemed to border on insanity”. He opened his Sent Mail and looked tearfully at the letter he had sent his boss, last night. That heartfelt mail. He read it slowly. And suddenly he knew why he had been kicked out. It read:

Dear Mr. Nutty,

Thank you for that wonderful sinner. Mrs. Nattu was really food to us. I loved all her fishes. Please let her know that I found the ice cream really hasty. It was one germ of a dessert. It reminded me of one of my own mother’s special cremations. Could you be kind enough to lend me the recipe? I really want to sue it. My special contracts to her, once again!

Retards,

Suresh

Moral of the story: Never ever write an email in haste. And watch where those fingers are flying on the keyboard. The neighboring keys are really dangerous. 

That awkward moment when...

...you ask a simple question and get a rather complicated answer that has absolutely nothing to do with what you asked. I shall explain.

Scenario 1: 

One evening, I left office a bit late and missed my bus. I didn’t know when the next bus was. There were just a couple of people at the bus stop. One of them was a girl whom I used to see on my morning bus to office. She recognized me and waved. I waved back with a smile. Strange, we never so much as nodded at each other in the morning. But that’s the way things are. Little adversities like these bring people closer. So she came over and we began to talk. She was into IT; had been working with her employer for the past 6 months; she was late that day and so on. She asked me how work was. I said it was nice, comfortable – the usual things you tell someone you have been recently acquainted with. “And how’s it for you?” I asked, more out of politeness than curiosity or interest. “Oh! There are no vacancies for you there!” she replied. Fortunately, I did not have to think up a reply for that as our bus arrived at that very instant. 

Scenario 2:

About 6 months after the incident mentioned above, I saw this girl again. This time, in the morning. I hadn’t seen her even once during this period. We were walking towards our respective offices and since we had a 10 minute walk from the bus stop we had ample time to exchange pleasantries. I asked her about her sudden disappearance. “I got married last month” she said, blushingly slightly. I was pleasantly surprised and congratulated her. She told me about him and that she had been on leave for quite some time – a month. (Now pay attention readers, just in case you thought she had misheard me in Scenario 1, this part proves that that was simply not the case.) “So you were on leave for a month ...” I repeated after she had completed. I was about to add something else – I don’t recall what – when she said, “You can take a leave too, for your marriage. Just tell your HR department and they will grant you leave.” And then she added for good measure, “It’s really nothing to worry about, Veena.” I looked at her wordlessly. No, she wasn’t kidding. Thankfully, she reached her building at that point. “Bye...” I said, half expecting her to say “Bon Voyage” or something to that effect.

I had to walk a few more feet to get to my building. I kept myself entertained with the following thoughts: Why does an otherwise sweet girl, annoy me with such twisted replies and remarks? Why do some people never answer to the point? Surely, I can’t be the only one to whom this has happened?

You can reassure me that I am not the only misunderstood one, by writing about something similar that has happened to you, in the comments. I would really appreciate that. 

Have a nice week, folks!

23, 24...25

I was clearing my table when a fragment of conversation caught my ears. Here’s the part from my mother that made me stop what I was doing and listen:

“ …yes, yes…23, 24 and soon will be 25…I am telling you...it’s not going to go down…it will only keep going up…”

Silence from my father.

I started seething with rage. I was sure that Amma was chiding Acha for not taking the subject of my marriage seriously. This was appalling. How many times had I told her that I was not mentally ready, that 24, was sort of too young to marry? Why did she bring up the subject now, all of a sudden? I wanted answers.

Teeth and fists clenched, I stormed into the dining room and my mother looked up in surprise and she smiled at me. The smile quickly gave way to a worried look when she took in my face that was contorted with fury. “What?” she raised her brows quizzically.

“Yes. What? That’s what I want to know. What?” I asked, trying hard to suppress my anger.

“What, what?” She looked me up and down.

At this my father, bent over his Sudoku, raised his eyes from the newspaper, his spectacles clinging on to the tip of his long nose. “What?” he sounded amused.

I took a deep breath and addressed my mother since I had come to pick a fight with her. “What were you talking about just now? You were just saying that…well, you just said 23, 24…something to the effect that I won’t be getting young...”

“Oh that! Gold prices dear! Saw the newspaper? It’s almost 24,000 now. Will be 25 very soon!” And after a pause, “Well, what did you think?”

I stood there feeling infinitely stupid for a moment. And then, not able to contain my embarrassment and amusement I told them what I had thought and why I had barged unsolicited into their conversation.

We all had a good laugh but I couldn’t help wondering how these two things – a girl’s wedding and gold – were too close for comfort. 

7 signs of ageing

Advertisements for anti-ageing products will tell you that you are turning into an old hag if you have wrinkles at the corners of your eyes and lips, dark circles around your eyes, dark spots, and many other symptoms that look horrendous when brought under a microscope.


Does greying hair or wrinkled skin really make you old? Unlikely. Here is my list of the 7 grave signs of ageing:


1. Finding fault with everyone and everything. Not being able to appreciate new people, places, and experiences.

2. Starting a conversation with a complaint. E.g.: “I hate the rain!”, “The heat is going to burn me!”, “Can’t that stupid bus come on time?”

3. Not being able to be genuinely happy for someone other than yourself.

4. Taking keen interest in others’ problems without wanting to help or empathize.

5. Laughing less. Frowning a lot more. Glaring at people who laugh out loud.

6. Believing that your own problems are the worst.

7. Taking on a discouraging note. Using a lot of ‘I don’t think...’, ‘Sounds foolish…’, ‘Won’t work out...’, and ‘Be careful…’ in whatever you say.


I have seen people with flowing white hair, furrowed skin, and a bent body whose eyes twinkle like a child’s and there’s a special warmth in their smile. They show none of the seven symptoms mentioned above. If they are not old, what are they?

They are graceful, sorted, and genuine individuals with a zest for life. No amount of Botox or anti-ageing products can restore youthfulness like a zeal for living and love can.



P.S.: I have been following Paulo Coelho’s blog for sometime now. This post can be called an after-effect. If you haven’t read his blog yet, you must. It’s a great way to begin your day. Click here >

Fish in my rum

I clearly remember that day. I was at home, reading Jhumpa Lahiri’s Unaccustomed Earth when my phone made the weird noises it makes when it is on vibration mode. I hate being disturbed while I am reading but I stole a glance at it. ‘1 new message’ and it was from a close friend. You don’t ignore messages from best friends. So I opened it.

“Guez wat? I hv fish in my rum!” and a happily sloshed smiley (as it looked to me), smiled at me.

My first reaction? A dropped jaw and popped eyes. Here was a girl who sipped wine with an expression contorted with caution and horror (the only time she tried it) and now she was telling me she was having rum. With fish in it!

I quickly sent her a reply: “When in the name of God did u start drinking?! That too with fish in it? Are u nuts?” with an emoticon that looked harrassed.

No sooner had I sent it than I got her reply: “U ful! I sed I hv fish in my room. My rumie brght it. Dey r lovely!”

“Oh…nice” is I all that I was able to send in my reply. I felt like a 'ful'.

The person who invented SMS lingo must have been a paradox in flesh and blood. Lethargic yet always in a hurry, crisp yet never really concise, terse but never to the point, friendly but snappy …

I am okay with v for we, u for you, r for are and even 4 for ‘for’. I use it too. I can tolerate more complex short forms if they can be understood. But not when the meaning gets fiddled with, ruining the very purpose of the message.

So where do we draw the line?  Stick to just r, u, v, and 4, right? Wrong. Let's just try and do away with it completely before our hands get dirty with the indelible stains of the gory murder of language.

I rest my case.