Mute On

WhatsApp era.

Days of accessible 4G, smartphones plenty.

Accessibility, re-establishing relationships! Long lost friends found!

Invasions of privacy.  Status messages which spoke more than a hello, goodbye.

Single lines, blue lines and double lines!!

Feelings of being ignored, suspicions.

Frustrations!

Infidelity and the late night sweet nothings.

If you had nothing to say, there were images and videos just for the occasion.

Together, we brought in a change in communication. 

We had a lot to say!!

And then there were group chats, bringing more fun, more connections and ease of communication across the globe

It was a game of fastest fingers first!

The ever familiar ping heard across office floors, in buses and trains.

Constant flashing of the messages, buzzing of the phone.

Noisy, some melodious.

Night and day!

The flash of light at night, the urge to read, the last seen time stamp.

Some semblance of privacy when the last seen time stamp could now be deactivated.

The read notification turned off.

More in control.

The biggest blessing being the mute on!!

All group conversations could be muted.

We could sleep again!

Save for the Strangers who thought they were friends and their constant messaging!!

WhatsApp now has gone the Facebook way!

All conversations can be muted, friends can be silenced!

My life on mute!

An Epicurean Ball

Eat, drink and be merry took on a whole new meaning when the Goan weekend took off.
We had it all planned, the pickup points decided to the minute.
We were well on time.
The road was perfect, times when you really enjoy a long drive.
The conversations flowed, the familiarity of old friends, comfort.

There are not many eateries on the road from Bangalore to Belgaum and we had to open up our stash of cakes and biscuits while we looked for a breakfast joint.
Hot breakfast on the way and we continued on roads meant just for that! Smooth drives!!

We passed through a stretch of Ghats with constant rain for company, skilful driving and scenic valleys had us crossing it in no time!

Reaching Goa felt like a homecoming!
Across from our old campus, we stopped to relax by our favourite haunt, Genes across from our campus!

The river Mandovi flowed ever so calmly, bringing back memories of the years spent by its side. The food, the music, the company, the laughter.

A late lunch and the Goan beer to get started on our weekend!

The chalet was a beauty. Situated along the river banks, nestled this piece of Goan wonder!

Its architecture and the interiors were interesting and gave a homely feel.

Found on Airbnb, it was a use and pay place with a well-stocked pantry, 2 kitchens, 4 bedrooms, walkouts to the river front and balconies overlooking the Mandovi. Its location was central to Panjim and Old Goa, in Ribandar, which had been our home for 2 years.
We soaked in the calmness of the place, beer in hand, watching the ferries go to Diwar and back, viewing the Salim Ali bird sanctuary in the distance. A perfect setting.

And then the evening began with the locals and foreigners reaching! They brought with them food enough to feed a home full of hungry men ( or so we thought then) and enough liquor for all the Epicureans in the world ( or so we thought again)

While we were in college, we lived on the good will of kind parents and the pocket money which never lasted! Liquor was Goan beer, fenny or the Old Monk Rum! 
17 years later we had plenty and our tastes had refined with living and dining in countries around the world!!
And food, plenty of it, a variety, a feast.

A night of singing, music ( a guitar, mouth organ ) and laughter! A night which never ended.

Morning, saw me quickly run up to Old Goa to visit the church, being Independence day also saw the flag hoisted at the Cajetan cathedral.

A long favourite Casa De Cha and a familiar breakfast – the Goan pao.  Visit to our campus in Ribandar, reliving memories, most good, some still hurt even with the passing years.

A drive to Diwar island, on the ferry, now famous because of the movie "Finding Fanny''
being shot there, for us, it only held memories of walks along the fields, bus journeys to the church. Calmness.

Back again for more drinks, food and a late night visit to Joet’s at Bogmalo.
Memories of another day, in January when I had visited that place with a young friend! A happening joint along the beach, with wonderful music!
The evening was made more wonderful with our own guys taking the mike and singing familiar tunes!  While some of us old birds called it a night and headed back to the chalet in the wee hours of the morning, the more adventurous lot decided to try their luck at the many casinos of Goa.

Sleep comes easy when the mind, body and heart are content!

Morning, decided to take the bus to Panjim for a run along to Miramar. A Sunday morning visit to the church and a short run along the Mandovi again to the sea.
The roads were washed clean from the rains, the constant slow drizzle, not enough to drench, just enough to feel a spray.

A slip, a fall, a cracked phone and wounded ego!

Back to the chalet in time to meet a bunch of breakfast hunters and it was back to the city again for a hot breakfast. A crowded favourite again, visit Café Bhonsles for some real good hot puri and bhaji the Goan way.

A bit of shopping and bumping into an old Professor on the streets of Panjim in the most unexpected places. A quick hello and introductions all around, not knowing where the night would lead us!

Back to the chalet for a wash and a trip to our campus now settled in Sanquelim.

Meeting old professors, making plans for the night and back to the chalet!

This was our temporary home and we made it homely! More shopping, more food and we had a well stocked pantry.

This night, we had our professors for company and that is an experience which none of us will easily forget. GIM gave us this feeling of comfort with professors who taught us subjects we had no clue about, who were easy to hate for making it all so difficult but whom we loved for being understanding about it!  Professors, guides, mentors, friends.

The night continued with its own bit of confusion, sleeplessness and an early morning trip to the airport.

And warm fuzzy memories, alcohol induced in-between wakefulness and sleeplessness and back to Bangalore for a life of routine.

Not once did I feel weird being the one girl among the 14 men.

The 3 days will remain wonderful memories for us who were there, the pictures constant reminders of the fun and laughter and letting go.

The Guilt Trip

Yet another reunion plan, but this time a feeling different from excitement.

Every working mother goes through a guilt trip when she decides to take a trip leaving the kids behind.  For me it was double the guilt being a single mother, working painfully long hours with the daily commute adding to the frustration of not being able to spend time at home with kids and dependent on old parents to run the show at home.

So weekends are normally spent quietly at home being a good daughter, mother and setting the home in order for the week ahead.

The past few weeks have been chaos with a major college reunion taking up my waking and sleeping hours.

The college reunion had been planned a year in advance.  It went off well and was good fun!

Running is good fun too and knowing there was a HM organised in Tuticorin, decided to sign up, book tickets and do that too, as unprepared as I was.

Due to bad weather, the run got cancelled, but I decided to still keep the ticket and do my quick weekend trip to Tuticorin to meet and spend time with family.

So it was, that someone, me, who never travelled anywhere, happened to do 2 weekends away from home in 3 weeks!

The travel though justified, still left me with a twinge of guilt for leaving my responsibilities behind!

 
When a Goan reunion was planned (the annual GIM alumni meet) I hesitated. My heart craved for it, the brain said NO.
 
The guys had it all worked out, they were planning to drive down and return the same way. The rooms were booked, so there was nothing left for me to do, other than pack my bags and leave!
Yet the brain persevered.
The deciding factor was an All Hands meeting on the Friday the guys were supposed to leave.
There was no way I could take off on that day.

Having joined this company just 2 months back, I had no leave left to squander, they were precious, I had to save on them to plan for emergency leave for kids as well as vacations with them.

I rued the day I lost my 20 days leave at my old company, I could have done with few of those right now.

So it was decided that I would not travel. Peace though tough to come by, reigned within me. I told the guys No, I would not come! My feelings of guilt temporarily left me, I had laundry to do, grocery to buy and kids to take care of!

 
A sudden change in date for the All Hands Meeting, had me thinking again, Should I or not?
Thursday morning message from a friend, “Be ready by 5:00 AM, will pick you up””

Just the wanting, leaves you guilt ridden!!!! I steeled myself and asked my kids if I could go!

They were not very happy, but said “Yes, you can go, but remember I am not happy about this”
I sent my little one to talk to my parents, being scared to ask them myself (42 and fearful!!!)
The question came back through the little one, "'how was I planning to go'', they were okay with the thought (!!!!) being a reunion, but the How was the worrisome bit!
When I said, drive, the answer was an emphatic NO!! They would drink and drive, it was not safe!! Etc etc etc!!
I knew what they said was true! Been around guys long enough to know this bit is true!!

So I went to work, my mind already wandering to Goa, people at work heard my heart thudding Goa.

For many planning a trip to Goa is for the beaches, the food, the touristy part, the feel of the place. All I was looking forward to was a getaway, a letting go of self, a time to find myself.

 I did not know who was going, coming or would be part of the reunion. All I knew was I would meet some friends from the past, meet some old Professors and feel at home!  

The college reunion and travel to Tuticorin were not that.  The Goan memories and connects were stronger!

Even with a No from home, I decided to have a return ticket booked, not wanting to spend a day in travel. I could always cancel if my mind prevailed!

 
The guilt was strong, the feeling of deserting my family for a selfish reason was preying hard on me, yet…..I prayed and called up home around 5:00 pm to try my luck once more!!
And I was lucky, I got a yes!!!
 
Immediately seeking approval from my boss at work, the guilt again creeping in, I went home!
I apologised to the kids for leaving them behind second weekend in a row, asking my mom if she could manage, telling them not to be a trouble ( they never are!!!) made sure, packed my bags and looked forward to a still guilt filled trip!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sunrise to Sunset

The weekend that went by saw yet another train journey.

This has been quite a record for me who never gets an opportunity to travel by overnight trains to do 2 such journeys in a month.

Travel by train requires advance thinking and planning in India. With the ticketing window open 3 months in advance, tickets get booked much earlier.

And so it was that this trip was planned in May. A 2 day trip, touch and go, to my roots!

A run organised in Tuticorin, the town of my birth, prompted me to book my tickets and think about running there, not much into traveling to run, this was an exception, a yearning!

Did not give it much thought after the booking, since the college reunion took precedence and created more excitement.

Tuticorin to me, while growing up meant great grandparents showering their love, aunts and uncles and cousins and play all day. Out on the streets, in the sun, visiting relatives, beach trips, churches and heavenly food! Sand everywhere, in your hair, in your shoes, in your bed!!!

A town where time to me stood still, where clothes spoke of wealth and jewels adorned every man and woman.

After moving out of TamilNadu and getting a taste of the North, West, East and other parts of South India, Tuticorin was left orphaned!

Trips were rare with work, children, school and other interests taking over my life.

Cousins had left town, few remained, but the childhood feelings had long gone and what was left was a distant memory. The house we spent our holidays in had been sold and the street held no recollection for me!

Yet, I looked forward to the run for more than just the run, a chance to be back where I was always loved and greeted with genuine affection. Where I was proud of my family genealogy!

When the run was postponed, I felt no sorrow. With an ailing uncle and aunt, with cousins and babies who were still not met, I decided to still visit.

Yes, the town had aged along with me, the buildings looked grey in the afternoon sun, some had been renovated still wore a weary look of having seen time pass by.

I loved the feel of sand under my feet, in my hair and in my bed.

It was all I was hoping for, loads of love, amazingly fresh food, smell of the sea, special churches, rekindling memories, creating new ones, babies and kisses and hugs!!! No one was a stranger. It felt like coming home!

Pampered, loved, one sunrise to another sunset.