And what shall the poor man do?

By poor, here, I mean the middle class workhorse who is neither too poor to be indifferent about his/her poverty, nor is too rich to be able to look down upon people of his own ilk.
It's the classic case of the middle class person sandwiched between the income with which they try to climb up the social ladder and do and have all the things that the socially and financially "happening" people do and have , and the government trying to snatch it all away from them with taxes and the like.

Every year, as the budget rouds the corner, the MIG-P (Middle Income Group person for the uninitiated) can feel their heart sink - I can tell you with full "caanfidence" - I feel it every year too, so let me put myself in the place of the MIG-P. So, the reasons my heart sinks are many - will the taxes increase or will the powers that be (the powers that, by the way, I helped make) go easy on my already light pocket? Will fuel prices go up again, thereby increasing the bus fares - or dent my budget because my ancient car - the only one I can afford - is a fuel guzzler? Will food prices fall or will the prices of chocolates go up? Well there's a small blessing there...less chocolates, less weight gain :D. But back to my woes. Will this budget bring yet higher LPG prices? What in God's name do these "powers that be" want? That we stop eating? Will I be able to buy that DVD player that I'm clamoring for or will even going to the movies warrant a second thought?

These are, but a few thoughts that flash through my mind, companions to the empty feeling in the pit of the stomach and cold, clammy hands...

And then comes the B-day, with reports in jargon that would confuse any thinking mind, let alone one distubed and filled with thoughts of impending doom, like the mind of one waiting for the guillotine to fall. Budgetary planned and non-planned expenditure and such like for the entire nation. Who wants to know all this? All I want to know is what's going to be the hole in my pocket this time around?

Sigh. I know what's going to happen. Import duties will be cut back on in the name of 'liberalisation of the economy'. Petrol and food prices will be hiked because "international situations demand so". Interest rates will go up on loans and pulled down on savings. Taxes will go up because "revenues from expected quarters have gone down" and " to serve you better and to provide you with the best, we need your co-operation. Please pay your taxes in time and honestly."

Never mind that those services never see the light of the day. And that I, a member of the MIG-P, have paid my taxes honestly and on time.

Truly...where shall our poor MIG-P go? And what shall we do?

I'm 30 today! Yippeeee...All grown up and stuff. And what better way to start the day than with watching "friends".

The best was it was the episode where Rachel turned 30! I've been laughing since then :)

Cooking for 20 people, I tell you, is not an easy job. Not when you're not a professional cook. Not when you haven't cooked for that many people in almost a year. Yet, this entire long weekend, it seems that's all I've - and my mom and sis-in-law have done!

It started off with the strange bug of cooking breakfast that dug its fangs into me on our Republic Day. I got up in the morning and brushed my teeth and as is normal for me, my stomach started growling. I went down to the kitchen and unimpressed by the various kinds of bread sitting in the bread box and the fridge, I drifted towards the main kitchen looking for something else. AND my eye fell on a box of tofu. I decided to make my speciality. Tofu Dosas. Now, I say my speciality, coz it truly is. I've NEVER heard of tofu dosas anywhere. So, this is at 9 in the AM that I decide to make myself some dosas. While slicing the tofu, I decide to cut the whole block - for everyone, of course. I can't be making me breakfast and leave everyone else, now, can I? So, I cut the tofu and mix the batter. Then I look around to see if there's any coconut chutney by some miracle. Of course there isn't. Now, I can't serve the dosas without any accompaniement, can I? So, I hunt around for some sambhar masala. We live in the age of instant foods, don't we? I open the pack to find it's only powder. No dal, no veggies. Now, what good is sambhar without any veggies? SO, I put some dal in the microwave to soften, and hopefully cook it. I try some parallel processing in the meanwhile and cut the veggies.

Now, I'm a very finicky "eater" and even worse when it comes to cooking. Every dice of the vegetable has to be exactly the same size and shape. So the question of shoving the veggies into the food processor to get chopped "doesn't even take birth" as one of my cousins put it last night (have you NEVER heard of think Hindi, talk English?). There I was, bent over the chopping board, getting everything just right. Got the dal out of the microwave. Not done just right. Damn. I look for the pressure cooker, dump the dal, the veggies and the sambhar masala into it and wait for it to whistle away.

While the steam let out of the cooker, I started preparing the dosas, coz by now everyone was screaming for food. I'd, of course, banished my mum and sis-in-law from the kitchen.

The end result, of course, was yummy put-a-5-star-chef-to-shame tofu dosas with some could-have-been-better sambhar. In 3 hours.

I'm too tired right now to write about yesterday's 20-people dinner. Will do that later.

Does human life mean ANYTHING at all? Or have we become so apathetic that we couldn't care less?

Let me tell you what brings on this tirade.

Today, a friend in office who has what you can closest imagine as a window seat called me over to his desk and pointed to something in a far off field, which was close enough for us to see the junk it contained. Turned out he was confused about what could have easily passed off for a pile of used clothes. It was actually a man curled up in a foetal position. He'd been observing for some minutes and had watched a number of people - men - troop by, but no one as much as stopped and nudged him with their toe.

SO he called me over to take a look and figure out if his eyes were playing tricks on him. They weren't. We observed the scene for two minutes and decided to go down and take a first hand look. Just when we were about to reach him, he moved. We turned come back, but hang on, we thought. Let's at least go and see if he's alright or if he needs medical attention. We went there and started calling out to him. He moved a little after our repeated calls but didn't wake up. He only gained enough consciousness to spit something out. A drunk man. That's all.

But WHAT if he were dead? WHAT if he were in grave need of medical attention? People passing by - looking at him curiously, or maybe even with disdain, yet doing nothing; guards standing around fully aware that he was there, yet doing nothing.

We asked one of the guards standing there if he'd done anything. He said no. We asked him if he realized he could have saved the guy's life if he were in need of medical attention. He mumbled a yes with averted eyes. We asked him if there was any value to human life.

He had no answer.

Such is the value of human life.

I've done precious little all day today, bar learning new and more exciting things to do on my blog spot today. First Rupen tagged me, and then I learnt how to tag other people. And then, I learnt how to upload my pic on the site. I'm getting on to be a regular tech savvy chica, I must say :)

Anyone else who's been slowly, but surely treading their way up in the world of technical wizards? Let's share the experience!

Tag And I'm "It"!

I've been tagged! And these are the rules of the game:

1. The tagged victim has to come up with 8 different points of their perfect lover.
2. Need to mention the sex of the target.
3. Tag 8 victims to join this game & leave a comment on their comments saying they’ve been tagged.
4. If tagged the 2nd time, there’s no need to post again.

Perfection, I'd say, is a rather relative thing. And so, this is what I'd ask a guy if I felt he had the potential to be my lover - and these are not in any order whatsoever:

• Can you tickle my funny bone? It's easy to make me laugh. But to make me laugh till I cry will take something else.
• ...And can you laugh with me? Would you be willing to give up that cricket game to go interiors shopping (and NO...not what you're thinking, I mean home interiors!) with me, just as I would give up a hot-wheels test drive to go bungee jumping with you?
• Are you just as ease in the kitchen flipping an omlette as you're hidden under the car tinkering away at its innards?
• Are you going to be able to deal with each one of my 1001 questions...in a day? I'm not the jealous, insecure types. I just observe a lot, which leads to too many thoughts which lead to too many questions :).
• Can you respect yourself, me, my parents, your parents? Coz this will mean you're not an insensitive, insecure jerk who fantasises that everybody in his circle of life is bowing down to him and scraping the floor.
• Are you a foodie? Coz I am. Oh, I SO am! So will you be willing to experiment with that gooey looking, funny named eggplant dish?
• Are you a good looking guy with a GREAT body :) I don't subscribe to "looks don't matter". That's being a hypocrite. Yes I agree they ain't everything, but sure as hell count for something.
• Will you be able to make me melt with just what you say with your eyes?

Oh, I have a longer list, but the tag asked only for 8 things, so here they are. And I'm feeling cheated. So if you'd like to know more, drop in a comment or an email and we can swap bullet points off the list!

Till then, the quest for the one who embodies these continues...

Today was my father's b'day. I say was coz the day is done, the last of the guests have gone back to their places. Quite a hectic day.

But I'm not going to talk about how the day went, but about something else...I'm going to talk about .

When I was younger, read in school, I used to say this line that I guess I picked up from some banal card or the other. A hug's a magic circle around a happy feeling. And for the longest time I believed there was only one way you could hug someone. Throw your arms around them and they'd automatically do the same. And there...a mgic circle was created that encompassed only the two of you, yet brought with it a world of happiness and calm. Nowadays, however, hugs come in all shapes and sizes and for majorly different reasons.

There's the Page 3 hug. Hands hanging tangentially downwards, so that when clasped, they look like a V made out of human arms...belonging to two different human beings! This is always ALWAYS followed by air-pecking...If you've seen any of those "After Hours" episodes aired on Zoom TV, chaired...oops...anchored by the anorexically thin Neena Emmanuel, you'd know what I mean by air-pecking. It's standing with your butt jutting out and away and your cheek butting out - can I officially say cheek butting out? - what the heck...with your cheek butting out and toward the kissee...OK...the one who's getting the kiss...and stabbing the air with pursed pouts. Clearly, the fear put in PYTs of boy germs also gets extended to girl germs. Who wants to take on more of your germs when they have enough of their own.

Then there's the Long Lost Pal hug. This is people who come and envelop you in killer bear hugs and don't let go, coz they haven't seen you in...gasp....4 whole hours!!!Or maybe because they finally bathed and lost the yummy smell of you from the last hug and they want to keep this new smell till their next bath. Never mind that they're listed in your address book under "acquaintances". AND that you can't distinguish them from Adam (or Eve)!

And how can I forget the Blink-N-You'll-Miss-It hug?This is the favorite of the commitment-shy freaks who seem to believe that any more than a 3 second contact will mean you're the mill around their neck for the rest of their lives!Never mind that you'd like to be away from them sooner than they can say "hey".

And yet, there's the Loving hug. The one that says, "I missed you...and I'm glad to see you again". This is the kind that we actually use our arms for the reason, I'm sure, God gave us arms - around each other, never mind the height difference, or the fact that your chin ends up in someone's collarbone, sending across a wordless message that you're loved and cared for.

What's my favorite? The kind that cheers me when I'm blue, or one that whispers, 'I love you so'. One that says, 'I hate to see you go'. A hug that claims it's great to see you again, or one that brings the rainbow after the rain...

What brought this on? An insistent comment by one of my "friends" on chat...No e-hugs pls.

I'm still trying to figure out whether it was because he, like me, wanted the real thing, or didn't want one at all. :)

My niece is an angel, yet all of 5...and she says things like "never mind" while rolling her eyes skywards! She wears color coordinated outfits and finds regular milton water bottles "boring". She wants Barbie stuff. Or whatever it is that's the flavor of the season - Noddy, Pokemon, Power Girls...I've lost track of the rest.

Today she introduced me to her friend.

Niece: Bua, this is Aryan
Bua: Hello Aryan :)
Aryan: Hello aunty
Bua: (Thinking to herself)Aunty mat kaho na
Niece: She works in a big office. She normally looks good.
Bua: !...!

I'm in jams and have nicely oiled hair. My masseause had come over today for a long due massage. I hadn't had one since the 30th of last month. Must say it was relaxing. But I'm digressing.

I've never been conscious of what I was wearing or how I was looking. Well...never at home, at least. Yet today I was made acutely aware of what an old fuddy I was looking like. By my very-conscious-of-what-she-looks-like niece. She walks tall, with her stomach pulled in. She tosses her hair ever so pertly. She looks at you with her melting eyes and cute smile. She eats like a lady, with her mouth closed. Never mind that I taught her that. She's got about a dozen ladies wanting to be her mother-in-law when she grows up! She crosses her ankles while she's sitting and she's the perfect hostess when her friends come over. She even introduces them all to me, like she did today.

I'm 30. My niece is 5.

Dreaming Of You

Said E.E.Cummings, perfectly echoing my thoughts:

It is at moments after I have dreamed
Of the rare entertainment of your eyes,
When(being fool to fancy) I have deemed
With your peculiar mouth my heart made wise;

At moments when the glassy darkness holds
The genuine apparition of your smile
(It was through tears always) and silence moulds
Such strangeness as was mine a little while;

Moments when my once more illustrious arms
Are filled with fascination,
When my breast wears the intolerant brightness of your charms:

One pierced moment whiter than the rest

-Turning from the tremendous lie of sleep
I watch the roses of the day grow deep.