"Come and share a pot of tea, My home is warm and my friendship's free."-

-----Said Emily Barnes, and it holds in my house too..


"If you are cold, tea will warm you;
if you are too heated; it will cool you;
if you are depresses, it will cheer you;
if you are exhausted, it will calm you. "- William Gladstone




When I was growing up the first thing I did, after waking up was to walk into the kitchen drink the mug of milk that was kept for us. Make noises, because my mother never gave us anything else. It always used to be NUTRAMUL.

The neighbour's kids used to be given the occassional treat of coffee. Now if I look at it, it used to be a whole glass of milk, with a drop of the coffee decoction, for color, i'd say. But coffee, it was, and they were better off than us, lowly kids drinking Nutramul..sigh!!

And then the day came when I was in college. We used to spend days and nights working on our projects, working in groups, some of who were out of towners, so mostly stayed in hostels. But work we had to do, and then the best option for us was the simple tea.

It would be made in buckets I would say. I have never heard anyone of us refusing that cup of tea. Not to mention the fact that, the cup of tea would be had, and then the person would sleep promptly back on the sheets ..I for one, couldn't..

My love for tea, started then..continued on, to become a part of my system, such that I was sure at one point that if you pierced my veins, all you would find is TEA. I was addicted and how. The little brown mug in one of my friend's place, was my favourite. I'm sure all of us have one favourite mug.



I got married and during one of my visits to the crockery stores, I happened to chance upon a similar mug, and it was straight into my collection.


My love for tea, and its addiction has reached everyone's ears, and all those who meet me, they need not know me well. That i've been gifted all kinds of tea mugs, all the way from Srilanka, to Macau to Sundarbans.

 

But my favourite and my comforter will always be my first mug of tea that I drink every morning. It has to be in a  huge mug and hold a good quantity.
 
"Each cup of tea represents an imaginary voyage. "- said Catherine Douze, And she was so right.

I have one set of mugs that I brought all the way back from my parents house, A beautiful one, that I covet even now. It hold memories, it holds stories and it is beautiful.

There is something about drinking tea in your favourite mug. But there's nothing like that mug of tea made by someone , and you just sit there for it..I'm sure you have some too.The liberty to hop across to your neighbours and say 'Give me some tea'..that's special.

My day 13 post for 'Marathon Bloggers'

It's been a fun 12 days so far at the marathon bloggers. The lovely posts that everyone puts up makes for such nice moments and have made some fun friends too. Do hop on there and read..I assure you, its gonna be fun.

Click on the image below, and it will take you straight to the cave of bloggers

Scribblings with pen and ink!!!

"No man was more foolish when he had not a pen in his hand, or more wise when he had" - Samuel Johnson.

LIfe is not fun anymore....trust me. In these ages of 'make things perfect' products , the fun is lost.
Just last evening while checking my sons stationary to be taken for his exams, I was a lil disappointed to see the inside of the case.
No stains and no blue gory looking tissues or cloth. Hmppffff....
In my school days, writing with an ink pen was in the first place, a very prestigious benchmark in our lives. Ok so all the rest were to be counted in too...but , I'm sure the school year, where you are allowed the use of a pen was a moment to be rejoiced and cherished. It signalled the advent of 'grown up kid' ...of course it has no physical justification. Imagine, a 8-9 year old being 'big'?? Huh!!!
But pen it was...and the preparations for the journey was a memorable one. Then the pens that had to be used were only fountain pens. The ball-point pens ( dot pens, as it used to be referred to ) were a sniggered cousin. The teachers would smirk and of course 'stand up on your bench types' if we did use one.
The fountain pen had its days.
The varieties were few . The regular ones with nibs having their noses out. The nibs were special...one had to be careful...if it fell to the ground while you were flipping it to get the ink to flow along, you had to repair the bent nib. And off it went to the edge of the desk, a pencil box in hand, hammering at the edge to straighten it out. The nib of course by now would have a gap, that would set its status to " reject or deject' But not for us...the pen would be brought very gingerly to the teeth, and pinched between the 4 frontal dental geniuses. Nib repaired...( it had to be checked by scribling in the back pages of a book, of course!!) one would know exactly why the bench partner would be staring at you. No !!! You were not the proclaimed genius of your pen..but you would be sporting a blue grin...thanks to dental make ups...
The offended teeth would be wiped away on the edge of the bag...( then it was the canvas one...washable and much more lighter( on the pocket, wallet, back and the teeth too!!)

The art of cleaning, had to be mastered too....a thin white ( nearly) cloth or sometimes paper too had to be twisted into a thin long piece and inserted into the cap, only to come out all soaked and drooping. It was an art...yes!

Sadly the fountain pen, did have its esteemed company in the name of "HERO" pen.
Oh yes the smoothie, the no - nonsense ink filling pen. The joy one got of just dipping the pen into the ink pot and coming away un-blued...was a joy. But those pens were only meant for the exams...it used to be the more expensive ones of our time...a whopping 16 rupees.
But they were treasured.

The shirts had their stains, and the women's magazines had their articles
" How to remove ink stains from clothes"

The graffitti on school walls, sprinkled blue and black...sometimes for the adventurous, green too....small splats, looking like flowers with one petal drooping out of the cluster and drooling gravity. They were there, for the walls to soak and memories to be made.
Now when I see the ultra clean gel pens...the cheap, disposable, refilled, kind of pens....I look back and wonder, if the stained memories were more fun...blue'd walls be damned!!!

And collecting some vague ones too..I had one which had the outer barrel stuffed with currency notes, one that had a figure, transparent one..that when tilted to write would fill up to disclose the beautiful woman...so many , such a lot of fun.

There's nothing like writing with a fountain(ink ) pen! :) Oh ya

Tomorrow is yet another day!!!

2 weeks of hectic madness…some made by me, some made for me…but I was in the center of it all, not able to organize my slightly crisp mind into thinking. Reasons were plenty. Most of them silly. And some, more like whining.
But most important was the sight of so many unpacked boxes, because the umpteen nagging issues in a new house, and added to it the presence of so many workers, most who assumed they were entering an empty house and not one already occupied. So for want of permission they would just walk in with either a paint brush in hand or a wrench more ghastly than the previous one to replace a leaking faucet…but I am enjoying it all actually…it reminds me that I have that much of time to think about action…all that is going on and have fun at my own expense…and then again to blog too….

But since the brain is still a bit on a mute mode…thought I’d handle a tag, so something which needs to be just answered and no thinking up a topic to write about…how’s that for brilliance…
So picked up this one, tagged by Sahana on Kal , Aaj aur Kal

The details of this one….Two questions in each category answer them and then tag your friends from the blog-o-sphere. (Simple enough right) Leave a comment on their blog letting them know they have been tagged and you are all set.

Yesterday
Your oldest memory
What were you doing 10 years ago?

Today
Your first thought today morning
If you built a time capsule today what would it contain?

Tomorrow
This year ….
What do you see yourself doing 14 years from now?

My oldest Memory..


I knew this one would get me…
Well, being a very helpful kid at 7-8 years, and having a terribly flexible body…I could go through rectangular grills the size of 6” x 9”. So each time a resident locked himself out of his flat , the door –opener would be called…ME!!! I would squeeze myself through those rectangles and walk in and open their doors, and of course be rewarded for this brave act with a handful of raisins…yes!! Raisins…and I would be all happy and smiling…
And now when I find my lil one climbing pipes up to the first floor and to the top of the balconies, I just say! “ history repeats itself!!”

But I do remember the time when I used to put pieces of paper torn from my grandfather’s old books, into the mailbox that would be fixed to his house compound., way before, soemtime 35 years ago I think…Don’t even dare ask me why I did that???

What were you doing 10 years ago?

10 years ago …well!! I was frantically running behind my son who was then 2 and a half years old and in his most terrible two’s . He was so restless, he never would sit in a place for long.. ( he never does that even now! L ) All that I remember from that time is his “ Amma beku” (I want momma) cry….for an hour, when I had left him at his play school gate…his tear filled eyes and his face wedged between the railing…still come back at times. I smile at those memories now…but then I was sure I was not fit to be a mother….and had to be reassured many times over by his favourite teacher then, that he would be ok…and he was…much to the point of telling me to come back after a few hours L so much for feeling sad! Hmpppffff…

Today:
Your first thought this morning

After returning from a very exhausting trip to Tirupathi… and just crashing out to having a very restful sleep, all I could think of this morning was “ Did I keep the milk coupons??? , I don’t have any energy to go out and buy milk!! “

If you built a time capsule today what would it contain?

Contain?? Let me see…my whole world…huh!! So boring am I not???
Maybe I’ll think of it in peace and then decide…so until then ….patience and please wait!!


Tomorrow
This year ….

Well this year gave me a lot of bumps...some good and some real bad. But i've picked myself up and tried to carry on...am trying to build a life centred around acceptance. Praying that things will go right .

What do you see yourself doing 14 years from now?

14 years???? Are you crazy…I don’t know what I’ll be doing 14 seconds from now??? Absolutely no idea….considering I would have hit the half century button on my clock….I think I’ll stop the thinking bit for now and just enjoy every moment for now..

Well to tag a few….
Preethi from Just a mother of two

Suma from Aaalochane

Madhumita from One true thing

Veens…from Rum’blinks’

Door to door .....with freebies?!!

"MeyDum, ondhu pyaket thogonDre, ondhu spoon free" (madam if you buy one packet, you'll get one spoon free) Yes....and then 12 packets were bought...how else could you make a set of 12 spoons for your cutlery set?!!!
Remember those times...( i've lost out on that scenario, 'cos I moved into apartments) I dont know their skill , but all I can remember is them ringing the doorbell exactly 9 minutes after you dozed off into noon nap..ech....they would refuse to go away....if you didnt open the door and look at their plastered faces...they would keep their grimy fingers on that drasted doorbell of yours.

And then when you opened the door, they would erupt, spontaneously into their tirade of...."buy one take one free"....and even if you did open the door and bought something...they would furiously scrawl something ineligible in black nonwashable something on your neatly painted wall.. :( . Reminds me of Alladin and the 40 thieves.. gulp

How many badam packets has my mother in law bought..." Ille, spoon nalla irukku" (no, the spoons are of good quality) she would say and I would go....eekss....but what would I do with 12 badam packets???? I hate them......but 12 spoons it was.

The kitchen piled up on steel tumblers, 'eversilver' ( stainless steel) dabras( katoris , cups) , then one day, if you were lucky, it would also change into some fine printed handkerchief...yes....that the poor hanky would finally shrink to the size of the nose, is a different matter...

There was this set of ladies who would make their visit to our house regularly...naturally..they wouldn't miss out on their best customer, would they? And then my mother in law, would complain about the previous rusting plate that they had offered and to exchange it...but " NO....the offer had changed :D !!!!

It was now one packet of sanitary napkins free with the other...gaaawwwd....I have seen the whole room reeling under the weight of those blue packets....what with 3 women...grrrr one years supply...baaah bwaaah

I was absolutely sure that we were the only family who did this...but to my horror, my mother told me, that her neighbour also did the same. But her reasoning was different..." poor girls, if they dont sell something, they won't get commission( that was how it worked...commission on n number of products sold) "
So then the house would be decorated with the encyclopedia, the cookery books....those that were sold on promotional tactics ..." we are giving a 70% off, ma'm" in their very accented perfect english. Now I wonder...why was it that the guy would always be accompanied by a smartly dressed girl, and the girl would do all the yacking while the poor guy stood quietly lookin hopefully to see that promising positive look in our eyes?!!! Of course I fell into that trap too....books being my weakness....and each time they targeted me in the office...so I now have a collection of 'fruits for all occassion', 'potatos and their magic'...'world books', 'Saarus', 'icecreams'...no...i'm stuck with them...

It also reminds me of the pastime we used to have as kids....no tv then...Bangalore had not yet got its tv...so it was us sitting playing traditional games, chaukabara, drawing, reading books, and of course listening and aping the "steel paaaaathre saaamaaanyo" ( steel utensilssss)...and then would get that glare from the big man...who would turn around his head with all the steel utensils carefully, skillfully, placed and also hanging out of the cane basket, like the BTS buses with commuters spilling all over the door. Today when I see all the neat old clothes, sarees, etc and trying to give them away or donate them...I think back to those scorched afternoons when that man would go about screeching in his nasal tones...while his lil boy would hold one piece of that steel carrier with the handle...wondering if in the next house, the lady would give away some saree with Zari..( it fetched a better price, you see!!) or some hapless suit..

Thankfully now we get all the freebies stuck into the glossy sheets of the ever popular magazines...Sunsilk shampoo sachets, meera shikakai, the get children yantras, and cds too...no more doorbells ringing...but no more "MeyDum"..... too :(

song-o-'algia

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Dhitang dhitang bole by Hemant mukherjee.
Now 25 or so years later, I come to know it was a popular song by Hemanta Mukherjee, and not some song that our school teachers had got from divine interventions..

It was in the early 80's...and all I can remember are white and red-striped saree clad girls giggling away, while the man friday from the make up market, sweaty shirt, and oily hair, went about his school duty of slapping on, the same coloured powder, wet with wet sponge, and the same horrendous red lipstick, expertly ignorant ( note that, he would be brought in form the erstwhile Prabhat Kalavidaru )of the varied coloured faces he was pasting it on.


Heard this song, and suddenly went into a trance...Not that latest Goan kind of trance... :) ..That trance of course is different where you remember a host of things very unrelated to this post...The kind i'm talking of, is the one that transports you to a world that had seen better days, or maybe sepia days...We had danced to this song while in school for some inter-school dance competition....
Some songs do that to me. A song can remind me of the day I had danced to it while in kindergarten..( oh yes!!! I remember the 1re cone icecreams too that we would get in the school tuck shops on friday!! ) or maybe even the time where I had stayed put in the bathroom, because I got stuck on one line and for the life of me, couldn't remember the next few lines...it was the non-cellphone days, so couldn't even call up and get the much needed bath- finisher from my trusted friends (don't we all have at least one of them...)


The trippy numbers some takes me to the times when we had performed as a group from our colony for some organisation. I remember , the place "Town Hall" It was very prestigious, then, when we would say I danced there or sang or whatever there...remember the time we put alta on our feet , mandatory for those school dances, those endless hours we sat and made jewels out of think ropes and silver foil. My school had insisted on giving us the much needed art-hobby, timepass inspirations, from our school days itself...all accessories have to be handmade...no renting out stuff or buying...pffftt... so we would sit for hours, ( of course very thrilled on having missed some boring History classes) using glue...the very authentic maida paste...yucks...it would always stink after a while I remember. And our fingers all dirty and pichky....no match for the present day fevicol, and gluesticks....with their varied fragrances.
Then there were those days, where if we girls had to dress up as a boy in some play or a dance, we had to customarily wear a beard and a moustache...poor guys, they would look more sissier than us 'boys' . And to think they were already squirming in their half pants for having been railroaded into performing along with 'girls'...snigger , snigger....the very same guys grew up and followed the girls around later, is a different story.


Those were the days, when we would get that sneak preview into our hallowed teachers dancing to show us those difficult steps...now when I look back I realise they were just as human as we were...so why shouldnt they have danced? But you know how it is the teacher -student equation..
Isn't it strange how we put 'roles' onto different people? And they just cannot step out of line, or else they'll be gossiped all over the campus..

It helped us bond, with our teachers, our friends...yes, even those smarty pants who would refuse to share their 'chole bathures'...in exchange for the very boring chapathi sabji or better still ,curd rice..with the small pickle twinkling on top...(was that vadu manga, that my friend brought every single day???)

I still can go back to those days to the last minute of our school day, we had to sing the prayer song...it went something like this..." At the end of **shift our feet behind with half closed eyes**, just kneel and...**hold onto the chair** pray. Thank you Lord...**lift the chair** for my work and **place it upside down**... play, I'll...**on the table...while bending down without moving our heads down......and moving to the end of the row...so that we are the first to be out of the door...gosh!! ( and dumb as were, we would actually think that the teachers wouldn't know...huh!!!! innocence! )
oh yes!!! those were fun times....
But we grew up and our songs changed from precious Lords, and dance songs- mmm, I think the song "dus gayo paapi bichua...may not have ever wanted to stay that long being danced upon as much as it were in school events ( some outsorced from folk, country, villages) to more filmy numbers, la bollywood ishtyle...then some of those soppy rock songs...

Till date the song 'hungry eyes' from the movie Dirty Dancing only reminds me of the terrace top grooving in the wee hours of a misty morning in a friend's house,while eating bread and butter, and some leftover cheese macaroni, but never the actual song from the film. But i'd like that image to remain..cos "Those were the days ..." and it leaves a smile, like a whisper.
Songs are many...and if I start...I must just get stuck and then chew my own brains up 'cos I'll just have to forget some line, somewhere, and then start haunting the rest of you out here..
Has any song like this transported you back to somewhere, that can just bring on the 'sigh' now??? Let me know...who knows we might just have crossed paths somewhere