Karate kid … erm woman

Remember the movie Karate kid from about 20 years back? Remember the training where Miyagi tells his pupil to paint the fence in circular movements? I have reused the technique as a substitute for weights!

Can’t figure what I’m talking about? Go watch the movie On a more serious note, when I was born the genes in the family ensured that my limbs were somewhat disproportionate. The lower arms and legs are quite thin – so thin that you’d equate my legs to broomsticks

While I happily gorge away on chocolates or ice creams or gulab jamuns, my body breaks down all that excess fat and stores them on my upper arms and upper legs. Latter, I can control to an extent with brisk walking or running lightly (there are days I use all my willpower to go out and exercise!). But the arms? Weights don’t help much. And that’s coz I can’t stick to a schedule!

Last week, I got to clean the wall tiles in the bathroom. Keeping Miyagi in mind,  I used the circular motion to clean away! Four walls, 2 bathrooms and quite brisk movements really helped!! The sleeves which were tight till last week, are quite loose now!!

More power to Miyagi! Now, I’ve got to think of means to tone them more – I can’t clean bathroom walls all weekends

The Case of the Lucky Loser

Another Perry Mason review – remember, I got five books the other day. Perry Mason gets a call from an anonymous woman to sit in court where a case is being tried. In a crowded court, a seat has been saved for him. However, the woman who has kept her jacket and scarf on the seat next to her doesn’t acknowledge Mason. He suspects her as the anonymous caller.

The case in court is one of manslaughter. Ted Balfour is being tried for drunken driving and killing an unknown man assumed to be a homeless fellow. A witness takes the stand who insists that she was on the road when Ted Balfour’s car was zig zagging on the highway. She produces a notebook where the number of the car is neatly jotted down and informs the court that after she overtook the car, when she looked in the mirror, the light of the car behind appeared to go out.

The defense attorney rips the witness apart because she claimed to have written down the number while she was driving herself, but the number was neatly written on a page right after the last entry in the notebook. The jury goes out for a verdict and Mason gets back to office.

The anonymous woman calls again but Mason insists that she reveal herself before he gives his opinion. She reluctantly agrees. Mason gets another call from the uncle of Ted Balfour to defend his nephew. Guthrie Balfour is informed that the case is already in trial, the jury is out for a verdict. Guthrie tells Mason that he’s putting his wife on a plane to meet him and retain him because if Ted was found guilty, he would lose the Balfour inheritance.

The anonymous girl turns up in Mason’s office and it is indeed the girl Mason sat next to in court. He gives his opinion that the witness was indeed lying and that most probably the jury would be hung on its verdict.

Guthrie’s wife, Dorla turns up after that and retains Mason’s services to represent Ted. After Dorla leaves and Paul Drake informs Mason that the anonymous dead body in the accident was a Heagan who’d rented a car and registered at the Sleepy Hollow motel. The mystery unfolds further when Drake’s operative digs up more evidence that informs them that Heagan had died two years ago!

The police find the Heagan identity of the victim, exhume the body and autopsy reveals a bullet in the head. Manslaughter becomes murder. When Mason eventually talks to Ted Balfour who is in policy custody now, a lot of other issues come to light. Ted had been doped on the night of the accident/murder, Dorla married his uncle for money, Florence Ingle should have married Guthrie when his first wife died, Addison Balfour who controls the family inheritance is a dying man controlling the power in the family.

Mason sticks to his principles trying to solve the murder mystery, but has to put up with the Balfour money power. While proving Ted Balfour’s innocence in court, Mason nearly loses the case. The villains, victim and the motives are very quite complicated. This was a cannot-put-it-down whodunit with a brilliant plot.

Road trip – Part 1

Don’t be discouraged by the part 1 in the title, this is not like Mitzy’s Friends. The road trip is not a figment of my imagination unlike Mitzy’s Friends. This will be quite a long post and will  need a long time to complete reading it (if you plan to do that).

When a long weekend looms, DH and I get all excited and try to go somewhere or do a road trip. Events unfurl that prevent us from seeing those trips through. Goa has been beckoning for a few years now but that’s not the road trip I’ll be narrating below.

Time to travel to Kerala from Bangalore varies on one’s mode of transportation. It’s easily over 13 hours including an overnighter on a train, if one’s destination is Trivandrum. So when a long weekend loomed recently, we arranged with another friend so that we’d be three of us on the journey.

On the night before, we dumped clothes and shoes in a huge suitcase for a short journey of four days out of which two whole days would be on the road; one day for the journey in one direction alone. Why the big suitcase? We couldn’t be bothered to fold and squeeze them into a smaller bag. Breakfast was kept ready and the alarm was set to go off at 4 am so that we’d set out at 4.30 am. We did get up that early but I dozed a good 10 minutes in the WC before I really woke up.

Meanwhile, DH is up (surprising, since he’s not a morning person) and by the time I’ve brushed my teeth, he’s made wonderful tea for the both of us. Special mention here coz DH making tea is a rare event.

So all I had to do was pack the breakfast in a casserole aka hotbox then get ready. Suitcase loaded, appliances switched off, doors locked and made as secure as possible against burglars and we were ready to be off about 30 minutes behind schedule. We arrived at our friend’s house 8km away and picked him up 10 minutes later at 5.10 am. Some time is spend waiting while his wife affectionately kicks him out. Our friend places his very tiny travel bag in the car boot/dikky and taken aback by the huge suitcase. His comment sets the tone for the rest of the journey. Hilarious humor is his forte; those punchlines cannot be reproduced by anyone else.

We get to use the 9km long elevated highway (inaugurated the previous day) connecting to Electronics City (called that coz it’s like California’s SiliconValley). At regular intervals, a board says 80 km/h but on the deserted highway corridor we easily do 110 km/h. The early morning sunrise was a sight to behold as it came up from behind the huge boulders dotting the skyline.

Around 6.30 am we reach the first toll gate of many and by this time, my stomach is growling away in fury. So I quickly fall in with DH’s plan to have breakfast only to realize that we hadn’t brought drinking water. Seeing what was on the breakfast menu, our friend had another shock.  Mathi aka Chala aka sardines fried, sandwich bread, chappatis and aloo mutter (potato and green peas curry). I guess, we are the only couple who have non-veg three times a day. Our friend nibbled chappatis and then insisted that it was too early in the morning to have breakfast. He insisted that he wasn’t hungry!

Breakfast done, we are on our way once again. The carpeted highway is a pleasure to drive on. The only issue is that on the stretch till Salem, certain parts are still under construction. Suddenly we will see a two-wheeler laden with plastic multicolored pots or huge stacks of hay or a tractor coming in the opposite direction. These locals also glared right back at us even though we were on the right side of the two-lane road. Then there were those strolling across the dual lane without knowing that they were escaping vehicles like ours doing 100 km/hr just coz we’d slow down or brake suddenly.

When we reached Salem, we finally got a bottle of water, a glass of tea and some km later, a pit stop. There were so many pit stops courtesy of me and I’ve got to say, the restrooms in the petrol bunks were quite decent. So around 11 am we cross the Kerala border. And think about lunch. So if in Kerala, and a pure Mallu, where do you go for lunch? Kallu shaap aka toddy shop of course! When we’d set out from Bangalore, we’d decided on Karumbinkala shaap. But a call by our friend to his friend confirmed that Karumbinkala is definitely not in Thrissur like he’d originally thought. Of course, an alternative shaap is suggested. It’s 10 km detour from the main highway to Trivandrum, but hey, we need good food and we’re thirsty hungry

Thrissur is still 2 hours away and kallu food is ready only after 1pm; we’ll have a fresh juice for now we decided. That’s when we hear shrill honking from behind. Kerala police is making way for a VIP and clearing the traffic ahead. A white Skoda Octavia with registration plate Kerala State 22 overtakes us and then begins a very very fast race! Because of the Kerala Police pilot, autos, buses, cars all gave way. And our Sophia galloped right behind! This continued for a while and we did overtake the VIP cavalcade but without the police clearing the way, we were forced to slow down; and the VIP’s just overtook again.

Finally, we remembered our parched throats and gave up the chase when we saw a tender coconut seller. After a short relieving break, we remembered the shaap. We asked for directions after passing Thrissur and finally reached Mapranam, where the shaap is quite popular. In Kerala, it’s not in good taste for women to be inside the shaap premises, DH delivered the specials of the day: kappa aka Tapioca, paninjeel thoran (Fish eggs with coconut) and fiery beef fried. If any Mallus (or anyone else) wants good food (and local toddy) check out Mapranam near Thrissur.

DH and our friend shared the driving on the trip. If there was a hint of anyone falling asleep, I’d ask to take over the wheel – that was a sure means to keep both of them WIDE awake! We reached home after getting stuck in Saturday traffic in Cochin, a traffic diversion courtesy of St. Sebastian’s feast at 10.30 pm. That was a very long trip – 760 km covered with good roads, road rage, 2 fuel stops and can’t not credit the PJ’s from Radio Mango FM station!

Hot crease

Approximately 7 years back, I met my cousin’s little girl for the first time. The poor wee thing was in pain. She’d got too curious despite warnings when her dad (my second cousin) was ironing clothes. When he wasn’t watching, she went and placed the palm of her hand on the hot surface.

When I saw the healing hand, it was an ugly mess. Her grandma (my mom’s first cousin) told me that the entire day the incident happened, the little girl was crying.

Fast forward to the present or mebbe slightly into the past. I started ironing clothes when outsourcing that wasn’t working out and I didn’t seem to have anything to wear to work!

Siya has seen multiple appliances around the house and hates most of them. She’s chewed the outlet hose of the washing machine and the vacuum cleaner barely escaped (probably, soapy water tastes better than dust). When the iron came out, she was naturally curious. I slapped her on the muzzle whenever she came too close and I tried to rest the iron on its base as far away from the edge of the table.

Suddenly I heard a pained whine while I was moving the iron over a pair of pants. I looked around guessing correctly that her little sensitive nose had sniffed the iron base when it peeked over the edge of the table. I tried to check her out, but she’s got a very black snout – I couldn’t make out anything. I left her alone to lick her wounds in private.

But after that episode, she keeps her curiosity in check when I am ironing. If I wave the iron at her, she jumps away. She knows that sniffing this particular hot object is not good for her health.

I guess when the kids come around, she’ll be watching out for them and preventing them from burns. Or have I watched too much of 101 Dalmatians or Oprah?

The case of the one-eyed witness

I recently treated myself by buying about seven books from Blossom Bookstore. Blossom is a treasure trove for readers. It sells both new and used books of all categories, generations and genres. This time I was looking for Enid Blyton’s first installment of Famous Five series. No need to roll your eyes at me – this was for my niece who couldn’t find it at her school library. Sadly, that particular one was unavailable in this store as well. So I substituted it with the same author’s The Case of the Missing Necklace. I’ve forgotten who used to be part of this series but  I remember Fatso and his dog (can’t remember its name).

But I digress. So next it’s my turn. But a bunch of kids made me deviate from what they call the “Pink” section – that’s the Mills and Boon ones. So I turned to a Barbara Delinsky

To make a long half hour of browsing in the bookstore short, I got hold of an Erle Stanley Gardner. And read the back. I couldn’t decide which to buy. And finally grabbed the last 5 books of this author’s. That evening itself I started reading The Case of the One-Eyed Witness.

The lawyer Perry Mason and his secretary Della Street have their evening at a nightclub interruptd by a phonecall from an anonymous woman who sends around a paper clipping, a combination to a safe and money. Mason is told by the caller to inform a guy that he should stop what he is doing.

When the duo go to the guy to inform him to stop what he is doing, he denies knowing what Mason is talking about. Mason leaves with Della but arranges for people to watch the house by Drake’s Detective Agency. Mason is woken in the middle of the night by Drake’s agent to be informed that the house they visited has caught fire. When he arrives on the scene, the fire is doused but a body is recovered.

Another murder occurs and Mason and Della happen to discover the body. Mason guesses that the police will try to pin it on the wife of the victim and steps into represent her. He’s quite sure the defendant is the anonymous caller. A lot of running around happens and soon a trafficking of illegitimate kids is brought to light.  As always, Mason is just one step ahead of the police and not well liked by the force. How the two murders are connected, the one-eyed witness’ evidence in court and solving the case keeps the reader involved.

The foreword in this particular edition reveals to me that I have got hold of a 1956 edition – and the condition of this book shows its age. But Gardner’s court cases are very entertaining – very light ‘whodunnit’ but keeps the reader guessing.

Grease Lightning

Three decades ago, the ambassador would  be the pride of an entire village while the owners were elevated in status in the local community. For an urgent visit to the distant hospital, the ambassador and owner would oblige the neighbours without.

Times have changed and the ambassador is no longer the King of the Road. Now, the bigger and flashier your hot rod on wheels are, the more elevated your status is. In a city like Bengaluru (aka Bangalore) or Thiruvanthapuram (aka Trivandrum), there are lots of flashy and ordinary cars. BMW, Mercedes, Honda, Ferrari (sometimes), etc are paraded by their proud owners. Nobody turns an eye at Hyundai’s Santro or Maruti’s Zen.

Tha’ts what I thought! The first time I saw vandalism was on a relative’s red Santro. Below the window and across two doors, instead of red, there was a long ugly scratch courtesy of a sharp objecting (guessing it’s a stone). Apparently, some people get this itch when they see a new car.

My sister-in-law’s new i-VTEC variant of the Honda City got it’s beautiful grey paint job altered in Trivandrum when they’d parked it somewhere to shop. It’s a moment’s destructive urge from a passerby. But does this unknown person think about how much hard-earned money has been shelled out to buy a vehicle?

From the pattern, one would think only new cars are the target for this form of vandalism. Well, imagine my surprise when our dearest Ullahannan was abused with not just one but multiple bruises. He is the at-least-10-year-old model of the small vehicles category – the Maruti’s Zen.

Poor guy – he always ensures that I got from point A to B without any issues. Now none of the other gals on the road will look at him. I still love you Ullahannan.

Tick tock … time marches by steadily

A friend of mine had these priceless pics from school. These were taken just before our final exams in 1996.

Greens and Reds on either side of the Principal (aka Princy)

This is another pose of ours – a ridiculous idea by one  of the gals in the gang. Funny enough, a lot of guys started snapping away on their cameras and we are all looking into different ones. Sadly, none of us have stayed in touch.

L to R: Annie, Geena, Preethy, Neena, Me n Deepa

I don’t think we agreed to balance the red and green sari blouses. And this is me in a similar attire after more than 13 years.

L to R: Me, Sangy and Jazz

Other than the clarity of a digital camera, other changes are pearly teeth courtesy of braces (thank you Dr Sujith) and 10 kgs heavier.

May the god of blogs breathe fire on you

… you, you whoever you are for releasing a malware/spyware that’s killed a lot of applications on the laptop. It can only be through this place coz no other websites were open.

As I have received, may you also be cursed – whoever you are!

I’ve come across this blog which perfectly describes what happened. I am not recommending what this blogger is recommending.

http://billmullins.wordpress.com/2008/02/12/rogue-security-software-on-the-rise-%e2%80%93-what-you-need-to-know-now/

Fortunately, we haven’t clicked on the purchase button. Beware of crooks!

I have received… so I give

Sue just awarded me my first award! “Honest Scrap Award” has been put up on my sidebar, in case you are a doubting Thomas/Thomachen/Tomas/ Tom(my) – I think I have covered all the variations there. Just give a shout if I haven’t.

Apparently, the downside of it is that I have to post 10 things (minimum) that are me – yours truly being honest. So here goes and I will try not to embarrass anyone.

\1/ I am hitting the THIRTIES in a few more months and wondering why I don’t feel ancient. Even when I was (am)  cruising on 29, I kept thinking I am 30. Could that be the cause?

\2/ I am always always trying to shed weight and exercise daily (trying to). And I always get hold of an excuse not to do that. One of the excuses is#1 above I believe that my spouse and I increase in girth proportionately. So unless he does something about it, there’s no hope for me

\3/ When we drink beer at home, Siya also gets some in her food bowl. She’s not a raging alcoholic yet; she begs for a taste of it even if we decide against. Everyone knows (at least dog-lovers) that it’s difficult to turn down those begging melting brown eyes. In case non-beer drinkers are wondering, she’s not particular about the fix. She just shakes her head and tries to get rid of an unseen fluid/object from her ears.

\4/ I started blogging to see how good I am at writing. I started in August 2009 and got hooked (diehard) only in October. Now, I eagerly look for comments from friends daily and delighted when that stats counter moves – even if it’s just by one. I am very very envious of Sue Laguna-Whang’s stats – she covered 10K in 2 months and made it to 20K in a week! But I enjoy her posts very much and so do a bunch of others – obviously.

\5/ I speak English with a slight accent – not surprising since it’s not my native language. I hate the supercilious fellow countrymen who laugh at the Mallu accent but don’t realize that they have one too. C’mon even Texans have a drawl and nobody’s complaining. Zimbly horrible, I say Everyone knows that Mallus are smart so it’s just plain envy, right?

\6/ I sneeze everyday – probably those who know me personally know that already. What I’d like to clarify is that my allergy cold virus is NOT contagious. I could be sneezing all day and blowing my trumpet, but you’d still be hale and hearty. If you get a cold over the weekend, I swear it’s not me – it’s someone else. My system is allergic to a lot of things even I am not aware of! I have a loud sneeze especially if it’s unexpected. I used to make my presence felt during the boring morning school assemblies. Infact, only Tony Thampan (a guy) could sneeze louder than me and being a guy AND a prefect, he had more fans! I also blow my nose loudly once in a while – mostly at home. I delicately wipe my nose on my hanky or sleeve (if I’ve misplaced the hanky) outside the house.

\7/ I have got cavities in my molars (that’s about 8 to 11, right?). I am a dentists dreams come true. I try avoiding the dentist by brushing my teeth for 5 minutes diligently in the morning. Someday, I’ll have to keep visiting some lucky teeth doc and pay for those x-rays, consultation, fillings measured and paid by the depth. Oh yes, one of my canines is filled – that pointed thing is not all natural.

\8/ I have got an oily face and very dry skin on the rest of the body (couldn’t it have been the other way). Regular moisturizers don’t work for me – nope, it’s got to be medicated and more expensive. Even my hair and scalp are dry – yes I’ve got dandruff My medical history makes a skin doc rub his hands with glee. Eczema runs in my family.

\9/ I find it difficult to read a person and make out their intentions. So I have a very limited friends circle, even at work.

\10/ I look like my mom and admire her courage and independence. I’ve inherited most of her traits except her memory like an elephant. She could list all my faults, quote me at inane things that even I’d forgotten. I can’t remember anything unless I make an effort to link them to substantial objects.

\11/ I am an emotional person. I tend to cry talking about unfortunate people or while watching tv of humans ill-treating wild animals. I cry at movies and cannot remain detached.

\12/ I think other people are more humorous than I am. I love having discovered blogging.

And Willow also awarded me – does that mean I have to do this again?

And now I award this to ten seven people:

#1 Sangeetha (aka bumblebee) for making me start blogging.

#2 Ameena – for introducing me to Maya, her cooking, and her beautiful home

#3 Julie – for being such a wonderful eyeopener into raising kids. She’s so honest about raising her daughter.

#4 Brenda – my first friend in the music industry (that too with cats who’ve got quite a fanbase)

#5 Zuellah Rose – my first Pakistani (I think) fellow blogger who has a lot of creative writing under her belt. Everyone knows our countries are hostile towards each other

#6 Emily – for introducing me to rural life in Eastern Ontario

#7 Sam – an Aussie in China (another country on the border of India and not too friendly either)

There! I am done. Now your turns.

Mitzy’s friends … the next part

If you are stumbling on this blog for the first time, please read previous post to make sense of this one. Damn, Zuella and Willow put some pressure on me. Mitzy’s Friends continues.

Standing next to Suzie was a young female apparition. Sera didn’t know whether to faint or to scream. Or run to her  daughter and protect her. The apparition sensed Sera and disappeared. Then appeared. Suzie seemed oblivious to her mom’s panic and horror. But she must have heard some strangled gasp to turn around and look in her mom’s direction.

Then turned and looked at the apparition.

Ok, I am not imagining this, thought Sera hysterically, my daughter can also see it.

Small girl - found dead. Mother’s whereabouts unknown – neighbors didn’t realize small girl was locked up and abandoned. All these statements filtered into Sera’s mind from her sub-conscious. Words the real estate agent had inserted in between marketing the house.

What the hell was I doing. Not listening to that fellow. Thoughts were racing around. We’ve got to leave now. Oh my God, oh my God.

No, you are not Sera. The words came out of the little girl apparition. My name’s Mitzy. Suzie and you don’t have to leave. I’ve been on my own for a long time.

“That smell! It was you!” Sera couldn’t help exclaiming.

“See, I told you to take a bath.” Suzie was explaining to Mitzy, the ghost. “Mommy says that all little girls should be clean always.”

Sera bemusedly looked at her little daughter explaining cleanliness to a ghost. What am I going to do? I don’t even believe in ghosts.

A different smell assailed Sera. Dinner! Burning! Sera ran to the kitchen and turned off the stove. She sank back against the counter and tried to think about what to do.

A ghost wasn’t a good companion for little Suzie. A haunted house wasn’t an ideal living place. As if she didn’t have enough problems on her hand, now there was a ghost too.