mmmm…it’s that time of the year when I am left reminiscing about how things went in the year gone by. After a lot of thought I am left with these 10 questions, which are haunting me time and again. Hopefully next year I can take off a couple of them from my list.
i) Why is it that I am capable of giving perfectly sound advice when it comes to other people and not able to think rationally when it comes to me???
ii) Why is it that I come out as a mature and level headed person (supposedly) to third parties whereas I am so pig headed and stubborn when it comes to close relationships???
iii) Why is it that I am stuffing my face with chips, nuts and all oily things (which by the way tastes so yummy but so bad for my waist) when I come back from work when my eyes refuse to see the perfectly healthy options which are placed right beside it???
iv) Why is it that I refuse to acknowledge all the important people in my life when all the while I am having imaginary conversations with them in my head???
v) Why is it that I know I ought to get in touch with family and close friends whereas I always postpone it with the same reason “May be later”???
vi) Why is it so difficult for me to get out of home on weekends when all through the week I make resolutions of walking around the nearby lake???
vii) Why is it that I get so jealous when I look at a well-turned out female when I know that getting back to shape is not such an insurmountable task???
viii) Why is it that only when I decide to go on a diet it is the festive season and thereby so much more temptations to resist???
ix) Why is it that I don’t make the effort to talk to more people whereas I am constantly looking for escape routes when I meet someone familiar from work at non-work events???
x) Why is it that I know so much about myself and still not able to change even an inch of the things where I am going wrong???
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Sunday, December 16, 2007
You know you are growing older when…
1) The new movie heroes are actually younger than you … But thank God for Mammootty, Mohan Lal and our dear Rajni uncle!!! for as long as they are present in the tinsel industry even Mom feels young.
2) The latest heroines are literally half your age and even worse half your weight. But thank God for Madhuri Dixit. She knows the moves even at 40 and that too after 2 kids.
3) Li’l cousins who were just born yesterday handle computers, ipods and all possible electronics with the dexterity of a PRO where I am left fumbling and flustered. But thank God for the cousins’ moms. They make me feel like I am part of the “YO” generation.
4) Li’l cousins who were in frocks and shorts till yesterday suddenly metamorphises into young women who would put Ekta Kapoor’s leading ladies to shame – what with the jintak salwar kameez and matching accessories and Gosh!!! Is that “A kutty” in a shiffon sari??#$#% Thank God for family who has given up on me and let me stay in my trademark signature style – unwashed jeans and uncombed hair ;-p
5) You switch on MTV and not even a single song seems remotely familiar to you. But thank God for Google, where you are sure to find the long lost songs of youth and the first strands of the song is just enough to make you feel 16.
2) The latest heroines are literally half your age and even worse half your weight. But thank God for Madhuri Dixit. She knows the moves even at 40 and that too after 2 kids.
3) Li’l cousins who were just born yesterday handle computers, ipods and all possible electronics with the dexterity of a PRO where I am left fumbling and flustered. But thank God for the cousins’ moms. They make me feel like I am part of the “YO” generation.
4) Li’l cousins who were in frocks and shorts till yesterday suddenly metamorphises into young women who would put Ekta Kapoor’s leading ladies to shame – what with the jintak salwar kameez and matching accessories and Gosh!!! Is that “A kutty” in a shiffon sari??#$#% Thank God for family who has given up on me and let me stay in my trademark signature style – unwashed jeans and uncombed hair ;-p
5) You switch on MTV and not even a single song seems remotely familiar to you. But thank God for Google, where you are sure to find the long lost songs of youth and the first strands of the song is just enough to make you feel 16.
Friday, December 14, 2007
My First Tag!!!
Here comes my first tag in the blogworld. My new friend in the blogsphere has tagged me and here I am doing the honours… Trumpets plzzzzz
5 unique things found in my room:
Now since we live in an apartment I have twisted the room bit to apartment. So here comes the “5 unique things found in my apartment”.
The most unique thing in my house is undoubtedly hubby. Sis and all the people who know him will guarantee that he is one in a trillion.
Him apart, here is the list of unique things:
i) A miniature music box, which plays the tune of “Raindrops keep falling on my head.”
ii. A Turkish eye protecting our house courtesy our Turkish landlords.
iii. Collection of hats in various sizes and shapes from different countries courtesy hubby’s fascination for the same.
iv. A candle holder in the shape of Buddha courtesy a friend who is deeply spiritual.
v. A tiny nativity scene in glass from Venice. The beauty is magnified by the frailty and the smallness of the piece.
5 unique things found in my bag:
A word of advice to Dear Mathew. Never ever E.V.E.R. question the contents of a girls bag. Girls normally have the world in their bag. Since I have a bag cum wallet cum garbage bin, I would take up one of the questions.
i. Visiting cards – now the question is what is so unique about them??? Well, they are my old visiting cards from my ex-organisation. Just a reminder of the old times.
ii. A picture of an elephant drawn by a dear friend 5 years back. Yes, I am a hoarder of old things and also very sentimental (yup right, more mental than senti).
iii. A diary of phone numbers and essential contact information. This is something, which I have with me since the last 15 years. (Now I can see the raised eyebrows and more people agreeing on the mental part ;-) )
iv. A picture made by my kutti cousin. When she presented the drawing to me, I oohed and aahed at it for some time and thanked her for the pic of goldfish in the pond. Its only when she corrected me I understood that she had drawn a parrot in the cage ;-)
v. An assortment of chapsticks :- plain, flavoured, glitter, etc. After all you are peeking into the contents of a girl’s bag…what else did you expect? Now Mathew, this is G.I.R.L.Y… not a tube of Vaseline ;-P
5 unique things found in my room:
Now since we live in an apartment I have twisted the room bit to apartment. So here comes the “5 unique things found in my apartment”.
The most unique thing in my house is undoubtedly hubby. Sis and all the people who know him will guarantee that he is one in a trillion.
Him apart, here is the list of unique things:
i) A miniature music box, which plays the tune of “Raindrops keep falling on my head.”
ii. A Turkish eye protecting our house courtesy our Turkish landlords.
iii. Collection of hats in various sizes and shapes from different countries courtesy hubby’s fascination for the same.
iv. A candle holder in the shape of Buddha courtesy a friend who is deeply spiritual.
v. A tiny nativity scene in glass from Venice. The beauty is magnified by the frailty and the smallness of the piece.
5 unique things found in my bag:
A word of advice to Dear Mathew. Never ever E.V.E.R. question the contents of a girls bag. Girls normally have the world in their bag. Since I have a bag cum wallet cum garbage bin, I would take up one of the questions.
i. Visiting cards – now the question is what is so unique about them??? Well, they are my old visiting cards from my ex-organisation. Just a reminder of the old times.
ii. A picture of an elephant drawn by a dear friend 5 years back. Yes, I am a hoarder of old things and also very sentimental (yup right, more mental than senti).
iii. A diary of phone numbers and essential contact information. This is something, which I have with me since the last 15 years. (Now I can see the raised eyebrows and more people agreeing on the mental part ;-) )
iv. A picture made by my kutti cousin. When she presented the drawing to me, I oohed and aahed at it for some time and thanked her for the pic of goldfish in the pond. Its only when she corrected me I understood that she had drawn a parrot in the cage ;-)
v. An assortment of chapsticks :- plain, flavoured, glitter, etc. After all you are peeking into the contents of a girl’s bag…what else did you expect? Now Mathew, this is G.I.R.L.Y… not a tube of Vaseline ;-P
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Are we growing antisocial as we grow older?
This is a question, which I have been asking myself frequently. It is not as if I have been a very social person all my life. Till some time back (ok, make it a few years back) it was very easy for me to smile and do a “Hi, how are you? ” and talk about weather, global warming and other such social niceties. But it has always been very difficult for me to let somebody become really close to me. I have now reached a point wherein I don’t want to go to large gatherings consisting of mostly unknown people.
I heaved a sigh of relief when my close friend also complained about the same thing. Atleast I have the satisfaction of knowing that I am not the only one having this problem. I guess the basic reason is that as we grow older we become more averse to change. We also become more confident about ourselves and we are at a point where we don’t bother whether are popular or not. Also it becomes very difficult to find people with the same wavelength. Earlier it was easy for me to relate to people even if there was a single common thread between us. But, now I am finding that it is not enough. On top of this I see a spate of networking sites opening up left, right and centre and I am left wondering whether is it just me who is feeling very antisocial?
Orkut, Facebook, Yaari, Dushmani, what nots… these kind of sites are just multiplying exponentially. Though yours truly is present in one such site (didn’t understand the logic to join multiple sites and meet the exact same people in all the sites), I have just made 2 new friends whom I didn’t know before. One thing I see commonly as an introduction is “I am here only to keep in touch with my old friends. If you don’t know me personally, don’t add me as your friend.” Now I confess I too have something on very similar lines on my profile page. To my defense, I am fed up with people having profiles like “Luv me plzzzzz” and “Yours foreverrrrr” begging me for frandsheeps. Now I have very clearly mentioned in “Vendakka aksharam” (Bold & Big letters) that I am married and have also listed out my sterling virtues (pessimistic and antisocial being some of them) but these requests still keep coming. Though I would have to admit it does give my ego quite a kick that Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt had come requesting "friendsheeps" and I turned them down, how I wish they were the real ones and not the “desi” clones.
Now the networking sites do resemble Venice during its carnival time. How else do you explain the multitude of Hrithik Roshans, Deepika Padukones and Aishwarya Rais in my friends list? On the last count I am friends with atleast 3 Deepikas, 2 Lindsays and 4Hrithiks. Now this is a very dynamic situation as “Deepika” can suddenly morph into “Kate Winslet” depending on the “friend’s” immediate frame of mind. What is it about the Internet that makes people try on different masks? Also what is it about the Internet that makes people do things that they will never dream of doing in real life. I know of adolescents who would break into a sweat if a beautiful girl walked past by and the same boys don’t think twice before sending friendship requests to some girl who happens to be a friend of neuighbour’s daughter’s classmate’s relative. Whew!!! All these are rhetorical questions and yes, everyone knows the answers to these questions as well. One word, anonymity.
While I am being over the hill and rejecting all the “louveee” coming my way, I am extremely dazed that my “kutti” cousins some of them all of 10 years are chatting away to glory to totally unknown people whose profile pics makes me think that they have just got out of jail. What is it with today’s world? On one side there are people like me who neither have the drive nor initiative to make new friends and on the other side people who take intense pleasure in sending friendship requests to just anybody and everybody in the site. Where do you draw the line? I sincerely hope and pray that my “kutti” cousins know where to draw the line.
Oops, instead of discussing on people becoming anti-social, this post has turned into a tirade against networking sites. Somehow my views seem very negative when it’s put down in black and white. Networking sites also have its positives. I should admit that I have met some of my long lost school friends thanks to such sites. More so it helps people specifically like me who ended up studying all over India.
I heaved a sigh of relief when my close friend also complained about the same thing. Atleast I have the satisfaction of knowing that I am not the only one having this problem. I guess the basic reason is that as we grow older we become more averse to change. We also become more confident about ourselves and we are at a point where we don’t bother whether are popular or not. Also it becomes very difficult to find people with the same wavelength. Earlier it was easy for me to relate to people even if there was a single common thread between us. But, now I am finding that it is not enough. On top of this I see a spate of networking sites opening up left, right and centre and I am left wondering whether is it just me who is feeling very antisocial?
Orkut, Facebook, Yaari, Dushmani, what nots… these kind of sites are just multiplying exponentially. Though yours truly is present in one such site (didn’t understand the logic to join multiple sites and meet the exact same people in all the sites), I have just made 2 new friends whom I didn’t know before. One thing I see commonly as an introduction is “I am here only to keep in touch with my old friends. If you don’t know me personally, don’t add me as your friend.” Now I confess I too have something on very similar lines on my profile page. To my defense, I am fed up with people having profiles like “Luv me plzzzzz” and “Yours foreverrrrr” begging me for frandsheeps. Now I have very clearly mentioned in “Vendakka aksharam” (Bold & Big letters) that I am married and have also listed out my sterling virtues (pessimistic and antisocial being some of them) but these requests still keep coming. Though I would have to admit it does give my ego quite a kick that Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt had come requesting "friendsheeps" and I turned them down, how I wish they were the real ones and not the “desi” clones.
Now the networking sites do resemble Venice during its carnival time. How else do you explain the multitude of Hrithik Roshans, Deepika Padukones and Aishwarya Rais in my friends list? On the last count I am friends with atleast 3 Deepikas, 2 Lindsays and 4Hrithiks. Now this is a very dynamic situation as “Deepika” can suddenly morph into “Kate Winslet” depending on the “friend’s” immediate frame of mind. What is it about the Internet that makes people try on different masks? Also what is it about the Internet that makes people do things that they will never dream of doing in real life. I know of adolescents who would break into a sweat if a beautiful girl walked past by and the same boys don’t think twice before sending friendship requests to some girl who happens to be a friend of neuighbour’s daughter’s classmate’s relative. Whew!!! All these are rhetorical questions and yes, everyone knows the answers to these questions as well. One word, anonymity.
While I am being over the hill and rejecting all the “louveee” coming my way, I am extremely dazed that my “kutti” cousins some of them all of 10 years are chatting away to glory to totally unknown people whose profile pics makes me think that they have just got out of jail. What is it with today’s world? On one side there are people like me who neither have the drive nor initiative to make new friends and on the other side people who take intense pleasure in sending friendship requests to just anybody and everybody in the site. Where do you draw the line? I sincerely hope and pray that my “kutti” cousins know where to draw the line.
Oops, instead of discussing on people becoming anti-social, this post has turned into a tirade against networking sites. Somehow my views seem very negative when it’s put down in black and white. Networking sites also have its positives. I should admit that I have met some of my long lost school friends thanks to such sites. More so it helps people specifically like me who ended up studying all over India.
Friday, December 7, 2007
Fit as a fiddle
Now don’t get me wrong… The title is no reference to my current physical condition. It is one of my fervent dreams to achieve this condition for the past 3 years and still counting….
While I would like to believe that I am pleasantly plump, my hubby and family have very cruelly demystified my belief by using the darn 3-letter word F.A.T. So proactively *that is after some 6 months of dilly-dallying* I joined my office gym.
I had to take a fitness test before I got to use the fitness facilities. So after successfully scoring single digit points out of a total score of 100 which convinced my instructor that this girl is in urgent need of the facility she let me join. Since some of my colleagues use the gym in the evenings, I very cleverly went for the afternoon slot.
Now, the first day at the changing room, I almost died of shock. I went in and I was faced with women of all sizes and shapes very nonchalantly changing into their gym clothes. (Thankfully they have separate changing rooms for men and women) I made a dash for the shower cabinet, locked it and got into my gym clothes in record speed and ran out. Next came the onerous task to actually start working out. When I gingerly kept my right foot (yes, I am very traditional) into the hallowed territory dreaming open eyed about the slim trim new improved version of me, again I almost died a sudden death, this time due to acute embarrassment. I was the ONLY one wearing ammachi* types tracks (that too in bright red colour) and a matronly T-shirt. Wait a minute, I take it back, even my ammachi won’t be caught dead wearing those tracks while the others were attired in teeny-weeny figure hugging biking shorts and sleeveless Tees. I tell you, these sights were already dousing my enthusiasm and doing nothing for my already plummeting morale, but still I lingered on in the vision of my improved self, which I would attain in a few weeks time. (Did I tell you that I am optimistic???)
My instructor then got around to showing me the functionality of the cross trainers, treadmill, rowing machine and what nots… Since the treadmill was something I felt comfortable, heaved myself up and got things going. I had visions of starting to run like P.T.Usha while the least I could manage was perform the mini earthquake sequence like Shilpa Shirodkar* in some Bollywood dance number.
Now I am all for people who can run effortlessly on the treadmill. I can just salivate looking at their stamina and I get the nice feeling that I am the one who is losing all the calories when they do all the hard work. After the Shirodkar episode, I have been avoiding the treadmill like plague. Now my latest friend is the cross trainer. So while I work out the dynamics of the “push- stamp” cross trainer routine while still ogling at the treadmill dudes, it is time for the ab exercises.
Now this is the most demoralizing exercise of the lot where time and again I am made to realize that colleagues double my age have triple my flexibility. As I grit my teeth and stretch, I constantly think that there must be seriously wrong with me to willingly submit myself through the sheer torture of stretching my TTs*. This is the time when the mirage of the slim trim new improved version of me becomes really very hazy. I have three quarters of the mind to chuck it all and head to the café for that sinful chocolate brownie.
All the above forms of torture are still bearable but what I find really horrendous is when some known colleague comes to gym in the afternoon slot. I get a stomach crunching feeling of being underdressed when my colleagues catch me in the gym. You can tackle them in formal wear with confidence with strategically placed scarfs and shawls which hide the bulge but when they see you in your red ammachi tracks, you get the sensation very akin to when you are caught stealing. (Not that I have much expertise in stealing) Anyways all you can do is to give a “valicha chiri”* and continue sporting.
All these forms of torture have done absolutely nothing to my physique. In fact my weighing scale will tell you in confidence that I have gained a couple more kilos, which you will never hear from moiself. Colleagues have come and gone and in the meanwhile lost 10 kilos whereas all I have done is come and gone.
Seriously you won’t think that it is due to the fact, that I have been having a lot more chocolate brownies, muffins, cookies, tarts, and pastries now that I have started gymming. In fact, the sole reason that I am having all these is to reward my body for the torture I am putting it through with the strenuous workouts and ab crunches. Anyways, tomorrow is an other day and I still have visions of the slim trim new improved version of me. (Well, I did say before that I am optimistic, didn’t I ???)
* Ammachi - grandmother
* Shilpa Shirodkar – A former Bollywood heroine who was very generously endowed. Usual romantic Bollywood dance numbers became hilarious when she was shown trampling some poor Switzerland hill with her slow motion run.
* Valicha chiri – a watered smile which is more of a grimace rather than a smile
*TTs – I can’t be telling you everything. Go figure it yourself ;-p
While I would like to believe that I am pleasantly plump, my hubby and family have very cruelly demystified my belief by using the darn 3-letter word F.A.T. So proactively *that is after some 6 months of dilly-dallying* I joined my office gym.
I had to take a fitness test before I got to use the fitness facilities. So after successfully scoring single digit points out of a total score of 100 which convinced my instructor that this girl is in urgent need of the facility she let me join. Since some of my colleagues use the gym in the evenings, I very cleverly went for the afternoon slot.
Now, the first day at the changing room, I almost died of shock. I went in and I was faced with women of all sizes and shapes very nonchalantly changing into their gym clothes. (Thankfully they have separate changing rooms for men and women) I made a dash for the shower cabinet, locked it and got into my gym clothes in record speed and ran out. Next came the onerous task to actually start working out. When I gingerly kept my right foot (yes, I am very traditional) into the hallowed territory dreaming open eyed about the slim trim new improved version of me, again I almost died a sudden death, this time due to acute embarrassment. I was the ONLY one wearing ammachi* types tracks (that too in bright red colour) and a matronly T-shirt. Wait a minute, I take it back, even my ammachi won’t be caught dead wearing those tracks while the others were attired in teeny-weeny figure hugging biking shorts and sleeveless Tees. I tell you, these sights were already dousing my enthusiasm and doing nothing for my already plummeting morale, but still I lingered on in the vision of my improved self, which I would attain in a few weeks time. (Did I tell you that I am optimistic???)
My instructor then got around to showing me the functionality of the cross trainers, treadmill, rowing machine and what nots… Since the treadmill was something I felt comfortable, heaved myself up and got things going. I had visions of starting to run like P.T.Usha while the least I could manage was perform the mini earthquake sequence like Shilpa Shirodkar* in some Bollywood dance number.
Now I am all for people who can run effortlessly on the treadmill. I can just salivate looking at their stamina and I get the nice feeling that I am the one who is losing all the calories when they do all the hard work. After the Shirodkar episode, I have been avoiding the treadmill like plague. Now my latest friend is the cross trainer. So while I work out the dynamics of the “push- stamp” cross trainer routine while still ogling at the treadmill dudes, it is time for the ab exercises.
Now this is the most demoralizing exercise of the lot where time and again I am made to realize that colleagues double my age have triple my flexibility. As I grit my teeth and stretch, I constantly think that there must be seriously wrong with me to willingly submit myself through the sheer torture of stretching my TTs*. This is the time when the mirage of the slim trim new improved version of me becomes really very hazy. I have three quarters of the mind to chuck it all and head to the café for that sinful chocolate brownie.
All the above forms of torture are still bearable but what I find really horrendous is when some known colleague comes to gym in the afternoon slot. I get a stomach crunching feeling of being underdressed when my colleagues catch me in the gym. You can tackle them in formal wear with confidence with strategically placed scarfs and shawls which hide the bulge but when they see you in your red ammachi tracks, you get the sensation very akin to when you are caught stealing. (Not that I have much expertise in stealing) Anyways all you can do is to give a “valicha chiri”* and continue sporting.
All these forms of torture have done absolutely nothing to my physique. In fact my weighing scale will tell you in confidence that I have gained a couple more kilos, which you will never hear from moiself. Colleagues have come and gone and in the meanwhile lost 10 kilos whereas all I have done is come and gone.
Seriously you won’t think that it is due to the fact, that I have been having a lot more chocolate brownies, muffins, cookies, tarts, and pastries now that I have started gymming. In fact, the sole reason that I am having all these is to reward my body for the torture I am putting it through with the strenuous workouts and ab crunches. Anyways, tomorrow is an other day and I still have visions of the slim trim new improved version of me. (Well, I did say before that I am optimistic, didn’t I ???)
* Ammachi - grandmother
* Shilpa Shirodkar – A former Bollywood heroine who was very generously endowed. Usual romantic Bollywood dance numbers became hilarious when she was shown trampling some poor Switzerland hill with her slow motion run.
* Valicha chiri – a watered smile which is more of a grimace rather than a smile
*TTs – I can’t be telling you everything. Go figure it yourself ;-p
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Shared Hobbies!
Lately I have been reading a lot of relationship ‘gyan’ courtesy the e-papers. Every paper worth its salt, pepper and turmeric is devoting a lot of screen space on guiding us poor mortals on better relationships. Must be the growing divorce rate is a cause of concern to these well-intentioned papers. The surprising fact is that they are only guiding us on bettering our relationships with our better half’s and not with parents and siblings. (If there was ever a course on better relationship with siblings, I am sure that mom would have certainly signed up sis & me. Mom used to live in mortal fear that one of us was surely going to kill the other one. Very plainly put, there was no love lost between us, sisters. Now that we both have passed teenage with both of us surviving, I am sure mom has all the experience to author a book on “Relationship guidance for siblings.”)
Coming back to the relationship gyan for spouses, the common point, which I saw in all the newspapers, is “Have some common hobbies / activities. Love and intimacy increases when you both share some of the activities.” Suggestions given were 1) Cook together 2) Go out together, 3) I stopped reading after that. As I was going through the suggestions, my heart was plunging towards the deepest depths of despair, as I couldn’t find a single activity which yours truly and hubby dear (here after addressed as HD) had initiated which ended happily and with more love. All our joint activities ended with one of us (mainly me) going off into a sulk.
The main reason being much as we love each other we are as different as chalk and cheese. Please read further for illustrations:
i) Cooking together drives me mad: After I got married and stepped into this territory called kitchen which I had rarely visited in the pre marriage days, HD came with this theory of sharing kitchen work. Now for a novice like me who was busy making sambhar slush and unchewable rice the last thing I wanted to hear was “This is not the right way to cook XYZ dish.” HD was getting on my nerves giving me unsolicited advice when I was desperately trying not to burn down the kitchen. So we came with first of our “shared activity”: “You cook, I clean” whereby yours truly did the onerous task of cooking something remotely palatable and HD did the post cleaning activity (I do make a royal mess of the kitchen). Also to be remembered during this “shared activity” is that the other half is not allowed entry into the kitchen.
ii) Watching TV together makes me mad: We have very different tastes even in television watching. I am in this phase wherein I am totally into investigative thrillers and hospital drama, which shows cutting bodies as easy as cutting vegetables for the Veg.kurma. All this blood and gore is making HD puke whereas yours truly is totally glued on to her seat. (Did I hear anyone calling us women as delicate darlings???) HD is a total sports and news aficionado. His mode of TV watching is watch football match and tennis match simultaneously and between breaks move on to BBC and CNN and wait was it Boxing on the other channel? Now yours truly whose only known sporting activity in school was bird watching and gossiping cannot take this overdose of sports. So here comes our next “shared activity”: “You watch TV, I watch episodes of ‘Everybody Loves Raymond’ on the Internet.” So now there is lots of love after this ‘shared activity’ as HD has got his daily quota of sports and I have my daily quota of movies, gossips and songs courtesy the Internet.
iii) Why would any sane person want to move his / her butt on a weekend???: HD tried to entice me into more “shared activities”. For somebody who doesn’t want to move out of the house unless it is on fire or for some essential grocery shopping so that the inmates don’t die of hunger, I don’t see the logic of going out on a weekend. I am perfectly happy to curl up on the cozy sofa and read to my heart’s content (I have to finish a book when I start whereas hubby reads one book a year) or watch TV or to just look out at the amazing scenery. HD doesn’t agree to my viewpoint, for he is somebody who can’t sit still. HD is one person who doesn’t go to the theatres to watch movies as he finds it an impossibility to sit still for 3 hours. I wonder how his poor teachers handled him in school. I have heard that most of his teachers took voluntary retirement. (pssst, don’t tell HD ;-) ) So here comes our next “shared activity”: “ You go out, I don’t budge an inch from the sofa.” I personally guarantee the success of this “shared activity” as by the time HD comes home dead tired from tennis, shuttle, squash, jam, butter, etc. I am looking forward to some company other than moiself and is willing to lent a patient ear to hubby’s exploits in the sports field. Must say HD feels gratified that he has a loving wife who listens to all his sports field stories without even blinking an eyelid even when he says he has thrashed all the others. (I am so good for HD’s pride.)
iv) Shopping makes me go mad: I am somebody who HATES shopping. I have heard that there is a fridge, which senses that milk is over and will automatically send an order to the supermarket. Now, if anybody has already built this fridge, please get in touch with me as you have just found yourself a new customer. The place where I live, the people mistake the supermarket to be the church where people gather after the Sunday morning mass to bitch about others. Here people don’t go for mass but all of them land up in the supermarket with huge bags to exchange pleasantries. People if you really want to bitch about others, could you please move that freaking trolley from the middle of the vegetable section??? Shopping instead of a relaxing activity is a high Blood Pressure activity for me. Now, HD, the inquisitive soul that he is, has to look at every product in the store and every discount that is on offer whereas I am like a horse on a derby match solely looking at attaining my goal of provision shopping under 34.33 minutes flat and gallop triumphantly out of the shop. Now comes our next “shared activity”: “I shop for provisions, You shop for meat and anything else which catches your fancy.”
v) Listening to music: This is an activity, which is guaranteed as a sure hit by the relationship tutors. I have to grudgingly concede this point to them. Now HD and me have very different tastes in music also as we do for a 1056 other things under the sun. Whereas I am more into the semi classical and melodious songs, HD is into the “dhinchak beats wala” songs. But we do share some common ground in the music of Bryan Adams, Ace of Base, Sting and lately Harris Jeyaraj. Yours truly has to listen to a song atleast 100 times if she has fallen for it. HD bore the brunt of it when he had to listen to the songs of “Vettaiyadu Vilayadu” for atleast 364 times and still counting. Now he has reached the conclusion that he loves these songs. Poor guy didn’t have a choice as these songs are irrevocably drilled into his brain as I have been listening to these songs non-stop every waking moment. So our next “shared activity” is “You listen to your music for 1 hour, I listen to my music the next one hour unless it is Harris Jeyaraj, Sting, Bryan Adams, etc., etc.”
Seeing the success rates of our shared activities, we came to a conclusion that we didn’t want any more shared activities as we were sure that if we did anything more together we are surely heading towards Splitsville. We were standing at the tram station and discussing about this point in the midst of me pointing out beautiful girls to him and commenting on them when suddenly the bulb (ting! For sound effects) lit in my brain. Halleluah!!! We do have an actual “shared activity” and that is Ladies and Gentleman (a half second pause for better effect) is bird watching!!!
Now I am somebody who appreciates beauty in any form and HD is after all a poor male whose head automatically turns if a PYT (pretty young thing, you moron) is anywhere in his 5 km vicinity. Both of us love looking at PYTs and discussing their best feature on display. It could be lovely green eyes, parrot beak nose or a toned butt for that matter. Both of us are great connoisseurs of beauty and tend to have interesting conversations during our daily train ride to office thanks to our “shared activity”. I am sure that, people who overhear our conversation will definitely mistake me for a L*****N but who cares, we are in the midst of our “shared hobby / activity” and enjoying it for a change ;-)
Coming back to the relationship gyan for spouses, the common point, which I saw in all the newspapers, is “Have some common hobbies / activities. Love and intimacy increases when you both share some of the activities.” Suggestions given were 1) Cook together 2) Go out together, 3) I stopped reading after that. As I was going through the suggestions, my heart was plunging towards the deepest depths of despair, as I couldn’t find a single activity which yours truly and hubby dear (here after addressed as HD) had initiated which ended happily and with more love. All our joint activities ended with one of us (mainly me) going off into a sulk.
The main reason being much as we love each other we are as different as chalk and cheese. Please read further for illustrations:
i) Cooking together drives me mad: After I got married and stepped into this territory called kitchen which I had rarely visited in the pre marriage days, HD came with this theory of sharing kitchen work. Now for a novice like me who was busy making sambhar slush and unchewable rice the last thing I wanted to hear was “This is not the right way to cook XYZ dish.” HD was getting on my nerves giving me unsolicited advice when I was desperately trying not to burn down the kitchen. So we came with first of our “shared activity”: “You cook, I clean” whereby yours truly did the onerous task of cooking something remotely palatable and HD did the post cleaning activity (I do make a royal mess of the kitchen). Also to be remembered during this “shared activity” is that the other half is not allowed entry into the kitchen.
ii) Watching TV together makes me mad: We have very different tastes even in television watching. I am in this phase wherein I am totally into investigative thrillers and hospital drama, which shows cutting bodies as easy as cutting vegetables for the Veg.kurma. All this blood and gore is making HD puke whereas yours truly is totally glued on to her seat. (Did I hear anyone calling us women as delicate darlings???) HD is a total sports and news aficionado. His mode of TV watching is watch football match and tennis match simultaneously and between breaks move on to BBC and CNN and wait was it Boxing on the other channel? Now yours truly whose only known sporting activity in school was bird watching and gossiping cannot take this overdose of sports. So here comes our next “shared activity”: “You watch TV, I watch episodes of ‘Everybody Loves Raymond’ on the Internet.” So now there is lots of love after this ‘shared activity’ as HD has got his daily quota of sports and I have my daily quota of movies, gossips and songs courtesy the Internet.
iii) Why would any sane person want to move his / her butt on a weekend???: HD tried to entice me into more “shared activities”. For somebody who doesn’t want to move out of the house unless it is on fire or for some essential grocery shopping so that the inmates don’t die of hunger, I don’t see the logic of going out on a weekend. I am perfectly happy to curl up on the cozy sofa and read to my heart’s content (I have to finish a book when I start whereas hubby reads one book a year) or watch TV or to just look out at the amazing scenery. HD doesn’t agree to my viewpoint, for he is somebody who can’t sit still. HD is one person who doesn’t go to the theatres to watch movies as he finds it an impossibility to sit still for 3 hours. I wonder how his poor teachers handled him in school. I have heard that most of his teachers took voluntary retirement. (pssst, don’t tell HD ;-) ) So here comes our next “shared activity”: “ You go out, I don’t budge an inch from the sofa.” I personally guarantee the success of this “shared activity” as by the time HD comes home dead tired from tennis, shuttle, squash, jam, butter, etc. I am looking forward to some company other than moiself and is willing to lent a patient ear to hubby’s exploits in the sports field. Must say HD feels gratified that he has a loving wife who listens to all his sports field stories without even blinking an eyelid even when he says he has thrashed all the others. (I am so good for HD’s pride.)
iv) Shopping makes me go mad: I am somebody who HATES shopping. I have heard that there is a fridge, which senses that milk is over and will automatically send an order to the supermarket. Now, if anybody has already built this fridge, please get in touch with me as you have just found yourself a new customer. The place where I live, the people mistake the supermarket to be the church where people gather after the Sunday morning mass to bitch about others. Here people don’t go for mass but all of them land up in the supermarket with huge bags to exchange pleasantries. People if you really want to bitch about others, could you please move that freaking trolley from the middle of the vegetable section??? Shopping instead of a relaxing activity is a high Blood Pressure activity for me. Now, HD, the inquisitive soul that he is, has to look at every product in the store and every discount that is on offer whereas I am like a horse on a derby match solely looking at attaining my goal of provision shopping under 34.33 minutes flat and gallop triumphantly out of the shop. Now comes our next “shared activity”: “I shop for provisions, You shop for meat and anything else which catches your fancy.”
v) Listening to music: This is an activity, which is guaranteed as a sure hit by the relationship tutors. I have to grudgingly concede this point to them. Now HD and me have very different tastes in music also as we do for a 1056 other things under the sun. Whereas I am more into the semi classical and melodious songs, HD is into the “dhinchak beats wala” songs. But we do share some common ground in the music of Bryan Adams, Ace of Base, Sting and lately Harris Jeyaraj. Yours truly has to listen to a song atleast 100 times if she has fallen for it. HD bore the brunt of it when he had to listen to the songs of “Vettaiyadu Vilayadu” for atleast 364 times and still counting. Now he has reached the conclusion that he loves these songs. Poor guy didn’t have a choice as these songs are irrevocably drilled into his brain as I have been listening to these songs non-stop every waking moment. So our next “shared activity” is “You listen to your music for 1 hour, I listen to my music the next one hour unless it is Harris Jeyaraj, Sting, Bryan Adams, etc., etc.”
Seeing the success rates of our shared activities, we came to a conclusion that we didn’t want any more shared activities as we were sure that if we did anything more together we are surely heading towards Splitsville. We were standing at the tram station and discussing about this point in the midst of me pointing out beautiful girls to him and commenting on them when suddenly the bulb (ting! For sound effects) lit in my brain. Halleluah!!! We do have an actual “shared activity” and that is Ladies and Gentleman (a half second pause for better effect) is bird watching!!!
Now I am somebody who appreciates beauty in any form and HD is after all a poor male whose head automatically turns if a PYT (pretty young thing, you moron) is anywhere in his 5 km vicinity. Both of us love looking at PYTs and discussing their best feature on display. It could be lovely green eyes, parrot beak nose or a toned butt for that matter. Both of us are great connoisseurs of beauty and tend to have interesting conversations during our daily train ride to office thanks to our “shared activity”. I am sure that, people who overhear our conversation will definitely mistake me for a L*****N but who cares, we are in the midst of our “shared hobby / activity” and enjoying it for a change ;-)
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