The Name is Bond

The hills come alive under his artistic mastery of words.

He bonds with the mountains, them becoming his companion.

The stories are light, descriptive and emotional.

The characters are real, simple and loving.

He writes about the old Europeans who made the hills their homes, had large homes and bigger hearts.

The Sahibs and Memsahibs and the Indian kids who went to English schools.

His stories do not have ill-will, they do not speak of treachery.

They carry the innocence of childhood even in the old, the generosity of friendship even in the poor.

Bond's language is simple just like the mountain people. His feeling is real.

''Great trees of the mountains, they know me well. They know my face in the window, they see me watching them, watching them grow listening to their secrets, bowing my head before their outstretched arms and seeking their benediction.''

I remember reading one of his books when I was just a young girl, imagining and wanting that life.

Today, I would love to visit his mountains, smell the pines and deodars, walk along the lanes and experience Mussoorie as he describes it.

Read Ruskin Bond's " The Prospect of Flowers" for the love of nature, for the beauty of friendship, for the joy of caring.

Strange Bedfellows

Disclaimer: This has no relation to the movie by the same name .

This is more than any movie could possibly cover in 150 minutes.

Mention a Goan Get-away to friends and they all think you are going to be rushing from beach to beach, exploring shacks and driving from North to South.

They all come up with ideas and advice on which is the best beach, where you can eat the best food, which is the best dance floor and where you can get the best deals on adventure sports.

For some like us, these are all moot! 

What matters is  a "Chalet", a stocked pantry and a house full of laughter. 

The initial fear of "Will I belong" soon disappears with welcoming hugs and broad smiles! 

A quick trip to the alma mater, 

Stories from the past which gets us laughing and blushing?

Creating new memories, forging stronger relationships.

Some come to vanquish demons, some to re-live what they left behind.

For many it's a get away from the mundane, 

for some its remembering, some- its forgetting.

Sadness and disappointments too are talked about without fear of being judged.
Old friends and new. 
For all of us it's a time to connect, meet and share. 

Through all this 

Music and food are the constant. 

We have all changed over the past 20 years. Success, stress, fighting battles, losing some. Winners all.

We talk, building our support mechanism, stepping in to fight  for others, proving that time and distance and ego stand no chance when it comes to brotherhood and sisterhood too.

We have our jokes now, the camaraderie continuing to invite and include more every year. 

Designations, levels, roles, age  all disappear for those 3 days, everyone becoming equals. 

The rooms stand witness to the stories we share, smoke rings accompanying a longing sigh at times, numerous empty bottles forgetting,remembering, creating.  The hot flaming stove warming hearts and body. 

Rum soaked food leaving you wanting more of the same.

Kicked out of beds, bathroom doors being banged on, toothpaste being borrowed, countless teas shared. Nothing changed!!

14 beds, 25 bodies, singing one song! 

"Mere Rashke Qamar"

Proving happiness too can make strange bedfellows!

One Step Closer

Race Report 

I never pride myself on being a fast runner!

I am a plodder, focus being on completing strong and getting back to normal routine immediately after a race.

Any organised run with a timing chip qualifies as a race to me.

When I signed up for a half marathon at TRORT-2017 it was because I needed to be able to assess myself before the Full Marathon in October.

I was aware that the route was tough. 

I did not know where this was located.

I do not understand maps, elevations. 

I was aware that there were several ups and downs. 

I was told by a friend that this was no joke. It was not just a half marathon!

I decided to prepare for it. Which meant hill training, which I never do.

I run inside an apartment complex where it's all flat! 

I took to running outside, where I could feel a slight climb and felt I was doing good! 

Till I was told that the elevation on the route was way more!! 

So I took the bull by the horns and faced my nemesis- flyover!!

I ran the Indiranagar flyover a couple of times, up and down. 

I ran when I was tired and my legs felt like lead. 

I did this for 2 weeks. 

I felt I was ready to face Pipeline Road.

There were not many runners at the start point.

67 Full marathon participants

310 half marathon participants 

172 10 Kms runners 

A very functional location, no frills venue.

The warm up was what we needed, not the 'in vogue' Zumba and loud music, but necessary stretches to help face the hills. 

The run started on time. 5:30 AM for the half marathon.

The first 1.5 kms were on mud roads, made wet and slippery after the heavy downpour the previous night.  It was still not very bright at that time and the puddles and rubble made the start a little difficult. 

The next 3 kms were the famed Pipeline Road.

It was well laid tar road, waste land, some construction on both sides.

You could see the road stretching way far- just ups and downs. 

It was bright and the runners could be seen in a serpentine queue, some still able to talk, others already huffing and puffing.

I silently ran, comfortable with the pace. 

Every aid station was stocked with cut bananas, glucose tabs, water, electral, salt, hard orange and lemon candies. 

It helped that the volunteers were cheerful, forcing people to hydrate and eat something, urging us to take it easy and enjoy the route! 

Saw a runner struggling to walk, she had cramps and was in pain.

Stopped to help her to the side, as usual my bottle of water came to her aid, she stood and stretched a bit till she was comfortable she could walk and I could go on.

Having struggled and living with a DNF because of not getting the timely support, I could not leave her and run knowing how bad cramps could be. 

( I checked her time later and was very happy to see she had completed the race)

Kanakapura Road was a neat stretch, well laid roads, again with its fair share of ups and downs, with villages on each side.

the 10.5 km turn was a relief, knowing now we were racing towards finish. 

Little did we know,that doing it all over again was not just a 10 kms run. 

It was run, walk, run from the 14th km. It took every ounce of mental and physical strength to push myself to run.

I saw the ups and went ohhhh! I went down and cried Aaahhhh!! 

and just when you thought it was flat, it started again!!

This continued till the 17th km, where we again turned onto Pipeline Road. 

And this was a test of each runners strength.

I wondered what more I could have done to be able to face this stretch.

Was it legs, upper body? Or knees or glutes, what should I work on? 

When I run, I normally set myself a moving target and look at pacing myself to reach and cross that runner. 

This time I set stationary targets to run till I got there, then take a walking break- these were not more than 2 min runs by now!!

I could see everyone walking in front of me and behind me! Not many attempted to run this stretch.

I was maintaining a steady pace with my run walk routine. I felt fatigue taking over every bit of my body. 

I told myself and others who were passing me, that it was just another 2 kms. 

Once we hit the mud road, I knew the finish point was not far off.

I could run. It was easier to run on the mud road, with very little elevation here. 

I was determined to complete it running and took off!  Determined not to stop!

Every step taking me closer to the finish mat.

Felt good! To be able to run, all the months of conditioning at the gym were now coming to my aid!

A final burst and the mat was touched!

2:20:51 for a race I was proud to be part of.

The cool down was again a basic and much needed stretch. Breakfast was hot and tasty. Volunteers were cheerful and friendly. 

Overall the best race in my 9 years of running.

The Run of the Raramuri Tribe-009 

July 29, 2017

Organised by Attitude Prime

In 'Abs'entia

The pen drops to the floor- "Kuttima can you pick it up please, I can't bend"

''Aaaah'' thats me in the rest room- "what happened'' ''Nothing, I can't sit down, it hurts!!''

''Let's take the lift up'' Says Me. '' It's only 2 floors, let's take the stairs''  She says " I can't lift my leg kannae'' me again!

"Baby, can you comb my hair and tie my hair up, I can't lift my hands"

''Kannama, can you come and sit on my thighs a bit''

Chellam, can you lift my dress up please, I can't feel my arms''

''Somebody come wash my hair for meeeee''

" Why are you walking all crooked, You look like an old lady'' 

''Press my back, I can't move''

''I hate her'' ''I am never going back again''

"Am dead, am going to sleep" "Mother!!!!! Its 8:15 pm"

These and much more are what is constantly heard at home the past few months.

Ever since I started working out at the gym.  

This was a conscious decision after several years of running to help me stay injury free and help build muscles and strengthen bones. 

Yes, it has its charm, has its positives, but there are days when the negatives outweigh it all!!

I scream bloody murder while working out, I cry while lifting, I scowl while crawling, I curse while squatting! I bluntly refuse to move! 

Yet everyone at the gym knows I am enjoying it all! They don't give up on me.

It all started with a DNF and me going through bouts of depression and loss of confidence. I decided to do what it takes to not go through this again.

I did what I had never done before! Entered the gym. I chose one close to work, to make it easier to slip in and slip out. 

I chose one which did not look at a treadmill and cycle as the 'go to' workout in a gym,

I chose to pay for the whole year, so I would stick to it.

i choose to train with a trainer to help me figure out what I had to do.

The journey so far....

I have lost a bit of fat, gained some muscle mass.  My weight has not reduced beyond 1 Kg in the past 9 months. 

Partially because I have not changed my diet in anyway. I still eat and drink the way I like, have not cut down on sweets either!! I refuse to take any supplements to my diet. 

This pains my trainer, but then I have my preferences!!!

I have become a more stable runner, I did have a stress fracture during all this, yet,I continued training at the gym, though the running came to a standstill.

Today I still balk at 65 Kgs and 50 kgs, I still wonder what she's talking about when she says Bulgarian squat, lateral pull down, chin ups and more such jargons!! 

If it's my gym work out day, my kids ask me in the evening,"Did you go to the gym? What did you do? "

And I tell them, upper body work out or lower body or DBC ( how I fondly refer to cardio workouts- death by cardio) 

''Mama, if you are doing all this and are running - (my running schedule is pinned up so all can see, everyday! every night! every time the lights / fan are turned on or off!! )

Where are your Abs?"

I am stumped too!

"In 'abs'entia darling"

Bush Tea

Train journeys can be a pleasant experience depending on the company you have!

And when conversations start over books, you know its bound to get interesting. 
One such journey began with a book and a recommendation.

When you have a book a month goal, it is nice to get a recommendation on light reading.

We googled the story line and got the name of the author ( since my travel companion could not remember the name of the author, but the character in the series) and got a general idea about the story.

He writes well.

“You simply could not help everybody; but you could at least help those who came into your life.” 

― Alexander McCall Smith, Morality for Beautiful Girls

This in a nutshell describes the emotions of the main character. 

This is not a review of just a book that I read, since the author has written several books under the same detective cases. No.1 Lady's Detective Agency.

After a long time, I actually enjoyed reading a book which had no unnecessary plots, twists, psychotic men and women.

This was light reading, very descriptive, connecting well with the reader.

Though it is based on a detective, it was not the dark murder, blood, thievery gore stories of the Poirot, Miss Marple cases. Mma Ramotswe is a very humane and emotional detective.

Unlike many other detective novels, where the case is solved on 'not trusting anyone', she solves her cases based on 'trust'!

She trusts that the world is a good place and everyone is a nice person. 

Her insights into the land and her love for the farm make her acceptable to all she meets, since these are all people of the land.

This book that I read made me want to visit the places he talks about, though barren and dry, yet made so warm by the characters described so well.

At one point, I realised the author is not the main character of the book, but someone who is so good with words and had brought them all so alive! 

If you enjoy light reading, a little bit of suspense, a simplistic approach,

If you believe that there is still good in the world

If you can approach reading for what it is meant to be- a love for books,

Then

This is an author for you!

This touched me: 

“We need a person whom we can make our little god on this earth, as the old Kgatla saying had it. Whether it was a spouse, or a child, or a parent, or anybody else for that matter, there must be somebody who gives our lives purpose.” 

― Alexander McCall Smith, Morality for Beautiful Girls

Alexander McCall Smith- Morality for Beautiful Girls

(No.1 Lady's Detective Agency)

MOM

I happened to watch a movie last night, trying to keep myself awake while the kids were pouring over their books.

Lacking anything better to watch, tired eyes refusing to read a book, decided to rejig my memory watching this movie again. It was all about cooking and the heartaches it can bring and the healing that accompanies it. 

Food rarely interests me. I don't cook. Was never passionate about cooking. I connect to food emotionally and out of necessity.

Never aesthetically.

When my mom fell ill and was in bed, I took over the kitchen. I was old enough to be married off and a typical South Indian bride should by then be the mistress of the kitchen.

The few things I knew were how to make tea and follow recipes to bake amazing desserts! 

Instructions from bed helped me survive the two months and did bring in the flavours of my MOM inside our home. 

During my stints of staying alone, I rarely cooked, even if I did, it was the fail proof Maggi. Till I ruined my health beyond self redemption and needed intervention in the form of MOM.

Next came fast food, food that was fast to cook and good to eat- Mumbai offered me plenty of opportunities at trial and error.

And I started enjoying it. Cell-phones were a blessing and step-by-step instructions from MOM helped me cook and please my never ending flow of house guests.

Moving to US was a big life altering event.

I had to cook! My husband was looking forward to handing over the kitchen to someone else and eat something other than rice dal and chicken.

And I bought cookbooks, I surfed the web, I bought baking trays, cooking pots and pans. Pressure cookers and boilers.

I stocked my kitchen. Learnt to cook never seen before fish and meat and vegetables. 

And I experimented. 

It was all good! A phone call away.

I had MOM. 

Back home after a few years, cooking was always in a frenzy. 

My life was a recipe for disaster. 

I had help on phone, though we were now in the same city. MOM who now gave me step by step survival tips.

Till I moved back into my parents home.

Pots and pans were put away. I had MOM. 

She cooked to heal, baked to please. 

My kids and I recovered from the love showered through food.

And so it continues today. 

I cook occasionally, my daughters love the difference I bring. My parents enjoy the lavishness of the dishes.

I bake more often. Throwing in generous dose of love into it! 

All because of MOM.

She still pampers me when am menopausal and cramping, when my body is heaving and sighing from coughing and wheezing, when am tired and hungry after a long day at work. 
All through her food.

Celebrating her 70th birthday! 

Survived a pancreatic cancer, vertigo, heart attack, heart aches and more!

Happy Birthday MOM!

The movie I watched was Julie and Julia - a movie about cookery books and food blogging!! 

A good movie to watch to live your passion!

12 years Unslaved!

I never did consider myself spontaneous, It was drilled into me from young- to plan, be prepared, always have your armour on. 

Every trip I went on, was planned hoping for the best, but  I was prepared for the worst.  

Even a simple act of risk taking, involved long term planning!! I got good at that as well!

My studies at school were so planned that surprise tests were always welcome!

Opposites attract and that is why I found a good friend who thrived on risks, spontaneity was his middle name.

We hit it off well and I too enjoyed the thrill it brought, albeit a bit cautiously.  

The first time I went on a bike ride with him, I was unprepared for it.. I did not know I would be flying off the back of a 500 CC bike and holding on for dear life!

The wind ripping my tiny top off my back, my hair flying free from its usual barrette, my feet slipping off from the dainty slippers!! 

Yes it was an experience to remember, but next time I met him I went very well prepared! and I was in for a disappointment, we did not go on a long flying drive!!

And so it went on, till the next time I decided not to be so prepared and expectant. And then I realised therein lies the fun!! 

Being overly prepared takes away some of the joy in such moments!!

It drives you crazy, the suddenness, the last minute unpreparedness. 

We are after all creatures of habit.

I plan, make lists, look at them everyday, follow the plan. review it periodically. Re-plan!

Moving to Bangalore 12 years ago was a planned decision. Marriage gone bust, job opportunities low, babies needing attention. 

So it was that we planned it, to move and separate.

But not everything goes by the book, by our plans. 

I had lists for everything

How to find a job, where to set up home, schools under consideration. 

Nothing went by my plan.

I took a chance with the school, the choice of job, temporary move in with parents. 

I took each day as it came! 

Was easier than trying to control things beyond my control.

Taking up a startup job was a huge risk.

Slowly realising the risk is mitigated by the rewards in such cases. 

I survived. 

Sometimes, it helps to go with the flow.

And let circumstances be the driving force.

Bangalore did not fail me!

New friends, New passions. New home. 

I started liking the 'live in the moment' feel. 

Today, I do plan, I do go prepared for the worst. 

Yet I am able to stay calm when things do not go according to my plan. 

If I miss 2 weeks training schedule, I look at my plan, sigh and wait for when I can pick up and move forward again. 

I accept there is a supreme power watching and guiding me.  

I have enjoyed the 12 years of being a different person. 12 years of freedom. 

Now

'I don't want to survive, I want to live" 

- Solomon Northup- 12 years a slave!