Kids ... I love to play with kids.

After a long and tiring day, we were deep in the depths of groggy sleep. All the curtains were pulled in place to simulate a clouded wind blow day, with the A/C in full blast. Somewhere in the dark bottomless pit of our gama states we heard the faint tones of our phone ringing. Pushing the cover off and walking out of bed like a zombie out of its grave, my mother went to get the phone.

“Hello… akka?” It was my cousin on the other end, calling in to ask if we were free in the evening to play host. Guess, the thought of another dumb amazingly stupid Sunday evening waning out in front of the TV, watching peanut brained comparers squeal and squelch was good enough for mother to immediately agree to the interesting proposition. [btw … my cousin has a very loving and engagingly extrovert kid.] Mom even suggested that they stay over longer to have dinner with us. And for me … all of that meant a great time out with my nephew, Aneesh.

It was late in the evening that they finally made it to our place. There was a sound of soft thuds somewhere at the bottom of our front door. I hid behind the door as I opened it for him. And in he walked like Columbus taking his first step on the soils of a new land. And like Hobbes I jumped on him, and scooped him off the floor. Pleasantly surprised, he expressed all the due signs of initial shyness and wriggled out of my grasp. It took some amount of endearing cooing and see-this … see-that kind of prodding to break the thin sheet of ice that was waiting to shatter anyway. Then like a little squirrel he scampered onto his pop’s shoulders to pull out his cell phone to show all of us how he could click pictures and download new ringtones all by himself. Believe me … it was a pretty impressive thing to see a lower kinder garden kid do things. And when he had shown us all the pics he had taken I offered to snap a few shots of him. And to all our astonishment … he climbed on to a sofa and posed like Milind Soman on some modeling mag. cover, like all those photo shoot outs. (Not one … but quite a few professional poses)

Kids, every generation are growing increasingly intelligent. Call it the consequence of exposure or what ever, but there it is. Almost every kid knows how to handle cell phones, play computer games and operate the TV, and a whole lot of other gadgets that my granny would have stared with mounting hostility and walked away in a huff. Interestingly, they get more and more inquisitive. They are able to explore things faster and build on their findings all by themselves with out parental or elder guidance. You allow any of my younger nephews to sit at my comp, they would have tried A-Z every option that would have taken me a few devastating comp lab sessions as a kid, and a couple of frustrated tech teachers, who would keep cursing the Gods of all heavens for having to put up with me. Of course, these kids are choosy. They pick and choose what interest them most and stubbornly refuse to excel in anything outside their felid of interest. But in things that mange to hold their fancy, nothing can stop them. Parents need to approach their kids differently. They need to observe and bolster the kids in their core competencies. Heartening, many do just the same.

Oooops! I am beginning to sound like a child psychologist. But somehow, my interest in kids comes to an abrupt close when I get completely worn out trying to entertain them. That’s when I pity the parents. Most kids are hyperactive, seeking something to do … something to occupy them. And that drives the parents … most often the mothers, crazy. I have another nephew (Kaushik) who is extremely charming and cute … that he could disarm even the wildest creatures with a flick of a smile. But he is the most notorious kid on the block. He has such restless naughty eyes that keep roving all around in search of the nest thing to be broken or torn down. He is always up to some mischief. Whenever I meet his mother, I have the feeling that I come face to face with someone who is undergoing things worse that a Nazi rule. Last year I heard, one fine morning she found herself hunting for a pair of starch stiff new clothes that my cousin had bought for her. She had left the pair on the bed and gone into the kitchen to attend to a lunch that threatened to char. When she came back she found the pair of new clothes missing. Ransacking the entire house, she searched every conceivable corner, till her nerves threatened to split ends. Then in a stroke of lightening flash she turned around to glare at those innocent, questioning eyes, that almost asked her, “Now what? Why do you always have to pick on me? I am the sweetest kid on earth content to play with my dumb toys sitting in one place.” Walking over to my nephew she pleaded on bent knees asking him what he did with her clothes. And he …. in his inimitable style, like a darling precious led her by her tiny finger to the bathroom where he open the commode lid to show how efficiently he had bin-packed her new clothes in. Needles to say she turned white with furry and paler with fear of facing her hubby!

That was just one of the numerous atrocities that my cousin’s wife has to bear with, in the name of sweet doings of a gorgeous, dainty, sweet heart of a kid. As my mother always says, “It is the parents who need counseling on how to rightly bring up a kid, and not the kid on how to grow up rightly.” My mother’s been into counseling for almost a decade now, but that apart, the very fact that I am here reasoning things out this way should help one meet with the fact that she is a good parent!!! Hahahaha …

Shawshank Redemption

These were the last few words that kept ringing in my ears, leaving me with an insuppressibly silly happy smile, when the movie came to an end:

“Some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows that it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice.”

Shawshank Redemption, was more of a song sung in praise of hope and human endeavor, to see beyond reality ... to make your dreams the reality. How true it is ... we’re all birds of bright feathers locked up in small miserable cages of the world around us ... of the worlds we are taught to perceive as the reality. And it is this very world that locks us down, also hopes for us to break free. Ironic as it may sound, every man, woman and child who breaks the bars of the cages that they are held imprisoned in, is acclaimed as a hero. The celebration of the human spirit, past the bitter hurdles in its path is a miracle worth holding close to heart. The most beautiful thing about it is that it is softly and sweetly infectious. It spreads, not like a forest fire, but slowly, smoothly and quietly as it was meant to.

I don’t want to write a review about the movie. There are plenty strewn around that one can always pull up a good writing to know more. It’s hard to put into words the feeling with which my heart swelled as I closed my media player at the end of the movie. I must thank one of my junior [Sid], who knew well that I would like this story, and so put it into a DVD for me.

If you’re reading this and you find yourself by a quite evening, sometime down the week, do stop by a movie library or a DVD store to borrow/ purchase Shawshank Redemption. It’s worth a collector’s item. It looks good on my shelf, and I feel warm and happy to know that I own one.

A Gujarathi treat at 'Mithai'

It was another boring day at work. The dirty bug we are trying to nail has been evading us for the past three days. And every time the software crashes... it is due to a different reason. Adding to the gloom the grubby horizon turned a threatening dark grey. Bugged of debugging and aimless browsing, I swiveled around in my chair to see the same state of affairs with Bali. Feeling the strong mutual bond of corporate boredom, I walked over to his cubicle to have a small chat. Somehow the topic changed, drifted, transmogrified ... to good restaurants in Chennai. Out of the blue I was reminded of an unassuming eat out in Vadapalani, Which I happened to visit with my family one late evening. As soon as I talked of this place, (btw ... it is called “Mithai” ) Bali suggested that we have dinner at this place today. Realizing, that dinner could potentially make up for the whole wash out day I had had, I agreed to the idea. Calling up home to leave word of my new plans, we made our way towards ‘Mithai’.

‘Mithai’ is a small Gujarathi restaurant serving sumptuous, wholesome, tasty and above all sensible food at reasonable prices. It is located on the Vadapalani Murugan temple road, just a few paces away from Hotel Saravana Bhavan (The self proclaimed Robinhood of South Indian Origin... Bhaa ... that’s the last place on earth I would like to eat at.) Even before we went to ‘Mithai’, we had decided that we would have the Guju Thaali. It is a neat little place, playing decent Bolywood numbers and boasting of polite and prompt service. One look at the menu cards, we ordered for the Thaali and decided to have ‘basundhi’ for desert. Had the place not been so small and the manager not staring at me as if I was going to blow up the place into smithereens, I would have snapped a few shots of the place and a plate full of food. But that’s ok; I guess all food lovers would by now having the laden plate dancing in front of their eyes.

There were three medium sized ‘phulkas’ and a cup of ... hmmm... great smelling ‘basumathi’ rice. There were two varieties of curry, One Dhal item, one ‘moli’ sort of sweetish stuff and a cup of ‘bhoondhi raita’. As frills there were a few ‘fryums’, a stuffed ‘mirchi bhaji’ and a small glass of butter milk. At first it appeared that we might be in need of some more stuff. But half way through the thaali, we were convinced that we are going to need some extra exercise to lay off the dinner effect. Wiping clean the last morsel off the plate, we ordered for cold, rich and heavy ‘basundhi’. Melting in the delight of thickened condense milk dissolving in our mouths, we thanked all the greater Gods of the higher heavens for having invented north Indian sweets. (Hey! ... wait a minute. ‘Basundhi’ is actually a south Indian delicacy. The north Indian counter part is called ‘rabdi’. )

Paying our bill we walked out into the cool night breeze with the Guju delight still lingering on our taste buds. So, there! We hit upon another garden of delight, and the list keeps growing!!!

Dinner Delight at Matsya

It had been a real long time since the three of us (Sara, Bali and I) went out for dinner. So, on one fine boring-post-coffee-break afternoon, it struck me to propose an outing. It was readily accepted. Generally, with respect to matters of food and drink we follow a strict code of honor --- “Never say no/enough!” We fixed the dinner for a Thursday night. And as usual ... Sara calls up (hell no! He didn’t call ... we had to call and ask His highness if he could be kind enough to join us for dinner.) and tells us that somehow ... there is this team of specialized workers who have managed to keep mum all thru the day and taking good note of our dinner plans, they have jumped into the fray at the last minute, to fix Sara with an extremely important job which called for urgent and responsible addressing. So ... there goes one down out of three.

That didn’t stop us (Bali and I). The call of a growling hungry stomach stood far highly esteemed in comparison to passing clouds such as office work. Bali ... anticipating a good hunt, did some amazing net research and hit upon a restaurant named Matsya. They have two branches. One on Thannikachalam road and another in Egmore. The reviews about the Matsya on Thannikachalam road did not sound too encouraging; however the one in Egmore had some interesting and inspiring comments.

So, jumping into the earliest cab from office that went to the Thiruvanmiyur MRTS, we ran from one end of the station to the other to grab our tickets off the counter and dash to catch a train to Park Town. Once there, we shifted trains and got into another heading towards Egmore. On the second train, we had a pleasant surprise when we met a senior and a junior at college, making their way back home from office. After a short and brisk ride, made sweet by traditional leg pullings and btw-what-are-u-doing-now kind of exchanges, we reached Egmore. We tried asking around for this restaurant called Matsya. Surprisingly, no one knew of any eat out by that name! Thanks to the NOP (Net On Phone) service that Airtel provides; pulling out my phone we googled for “Matsya Egmore” and got the exact address. Sufficiently armed with critical info, we managed to spot the hidden niche of exotic feasts. Over the brief stroll towards the restaurant, we read up a few reviews and blog entries explaining the various specialties at Matsya.

Opening the doors to a plush and decently designed setting, we found a corner table to slip behind and become one with the laid back atmosphere there. Service was prompt. The waiter came up to us with the menu cards to choose from. We searched hard for the Uduppi specials suggested on the various reviews we had read. Even as we were struggling to spot one or two, here and there, the waiter recommended that we go in for the Uduppi thaali. Costing Rs.85, he assured us that it would come with all the stuff we were looking for, providing a grand picture of the Uduppi culinary heritage. And so, thaali it was.

First to come was ‘Rasam Vada’. The vada was secondary. The rasam was the highlight. It was the best rasam we had ever had a whiff of. It had the mystery of Chinese clear soup and the home touch of mother’s pepper rasam. As we gobbled the last pieces of our soaked bloating vadas, spiced up with green chutney, we had the next dish being shipped on to our table. On a quarter plate were ... hold a minute ... let me check my phone for the notes I had taken .... ‘Kulzhi Paniharam’ (roasted in ghee), ‘Mangalore Bondas’ and a sweet called ‘Mangalore Bans’. We wanted to get things right. So we had the waiter at our table, taking all pains to teach us the names of every dish on our plates. I guess he was a true Uduppi patriot, for he seemed very delighted at this request of ours. It was just the second course, and the last few bites of it, left us with warning signs that our tanks were getting fast filled up!!! What a shame ... how could we be so impolite as to say no to the delicacies placed in front of us. So we plodded.

Next in line was the main course. A big plate with two varieties of dosas in the middle and a host of other mouth watering, eye popping goodies placed all around in neat little cups. There was a grey-green colored ‘Palak Dosa’ and a bright reddish brown ‘Uppu Pulli Dosa’. Going to the peripheries, there was a Idli like looking dish called ‘Kadubu’, a beaten rice dish called ‘Chitranam’, a ghee dripping ‘Bisi Bela Bhath’, a cup of popular Matsya ‘Sambar’, a rich and generously prepared helping of ‘Curd Rice’, fruit salad and a handful of ‘Uduppi Banana Chips’. You would need a gastronomically wondrous appetite to mouth every dish in front of us and get back home without exploding. But we had an honor to keep. So we justly chose a couple of dishes and ate it to the end, while we settled for a few spoonfuls of the rest, just to take note of the care, quality and taste with which they were prepared. Just as we thought we were done, there arrived the crowning beauty to the dinner delight – ‘Bajhari Dosa’. It was another kind of dosa prepared out of rice and had a special coconut sweet for a side dish. There were tears in our eyes. The waiter perhaps thought they were tears of joy and immense gratitude for an utterly satisfying treat. In reality, we were in a fix. Our minds could not think of rejecting this wonder, sitting there like a glorified treasure waiting for us to grab at. But our stomachs left us with little choice. Mind, the great seers have said, is a mad drunken monkey bitten by a scorpion. So, the mind won and we had the great dosa.

When the waiter came back for the customary – Anything-else-sir enquiry, seeing our faces he felt pretty foolish. He didn’t need an answer. We thanked and sent him off to get us our bill. With the bill paid, we slowly and steadily ... with utmost care levered ourselves onto our poor legs, the new found extra pounds were a bit too much to put up with. Thanking every waiter profusely for a delightful evening we made our way out.

Back at home and the next day in office saw both Bali and me ferociously campaigning for the Egmore Matsya, for a magical Uduppi experience. It just that expansive hearts that we are by nature gifted with, to share all that is good and delightful. [Ooooppss ... did u see that halo ring hovering above my head!!!]

A trip to Hoganekkal and Yerkard

It is still a surprise, how the whole thing came thru. Seven of us in different places, stuck with our own busy schedules. But I guess it was those timely kinks that pop when you go thru, an otherwise droning hum of meaningless, well structured dumb life. Most of us felt it deep ... that we needed to break away into some freaky oblivion ... some sun kissed beautiful mountain or some shell strewn bright blue beach. After a week or two's live exchange of pepped up mails we reached the consensus that our peep hole to freedom would lead us to Hoganekkal & Yerkard. Hmmm... now a bit on the chosen spots ... Hoganekkal is a beautiful mass of rolling water right between the fast blurring borders of Tamil Nadu and Karnataka. It so huge, fast and green that it offers an experience akin to water rafting when u ride the local cup shaped flimsy wafer boats. Then there are the many mini waterfalls, secret spots (well, I'll get to that in good time) and a lot of eye candy!!! As for Yercard ... it’s falsely called poor man's Ooty. A hill station with vast spread coffee plantations and plenty of stupid cliff spots named after every gender/age in the human species (Lady' spot ... children's spot ... God knows what other spots the place sports).

Bali, Sudhir and I took the night bus to Dharmapuri where the rest of the gang (Jaggu, Deepu, Manoj and Sanjeeth) joined in from B'lore. We were too thrilled at the prospects of a long awaited holiday cum reunion, that we didn't mind the sweaty cramped overnight bus ride. Once we reached the Dharmapuri (around 5 in the morning), we had a hot cup of local tea and went about freshening ourselves. In about half-a-hour's time the others landed. Well, actually they came much earlier and had taken a room near by and fell asleep waiting for us. After ample hearty greetings and fulfilling leg pulling, we jumped into the first bus that left to Hoganekkal. It was cool and crisp ride, up and down the slopes of the surrounding hills. On reaching Hoganekkal we found a decent lodge to leave our baggage and have a quick and light breakfast.

Chirpy and happy we skipped and ran towards the boating spot. There we found two boat men waiting to shave us with a mind boggling boat ride each costing Rs.450. After much thought, we went in for it. The boats themselves were nothing but a few bamboo sticks stitched to form a bowl, pretty flimsy ... adding to the whole adventure. We stopped in a few places, midway, where we found moss coated sharp rocks, with the fierce falls very close. Like seals soaking up the sun, we sat there amidst nowhere with the water thundering upon our heads. After we had screamt enough and slipped enough on the thick green slimy moss.... we were schooled away into calmer water where we were promised of serene backdrops of bright green slopes kissing sun colored sands that mysteriously vanished into the grey green waters. My! it was a sight for the Gods who had a bit of adventure in their blood. We pulled over on a small archipelago of wild growth ... the water was still, yet cool ... we all got into the waters while the boat men, resting their over stretched muscles had a quick meal of fried fish. In the water..... it was all that we could ever ask for .... we splashed, ran loose, and did all that we could. The best part of it was, we all learnt to swim in a matter of few minutes.... Deepu was our tutor.... so a best part of the time went in swimming up and down the silent currents of the water.

When we felt our limbs grow heavy as lead ... we decided to crawl back into the boats and move homewards ... it was already noon. The boatmen ... seeing us enjoy the trip so much ... offered an additional 1/2 hour of free ride over the waters ... but we opted otherwise, heeding wisely to aching muscles and growling stomachs. However, before we left the falls we went to a nearby place where the tourism board had built railings beneath an extremely strong falls, where people could have a great oil massage and roast in the sun and then go into the fierce waters holding the railings and feel heaven beating drums all over them. We skipped the oil massage and went under the falls ... that was the icing on the cake .... After half an hours of natures' massage ... we emerged soaking, like a piece of dead wood.

We then rushed back to the hotel, dressed up and checked out. Catching a bus back to Dharmapuri, we all fell into a blissful stupor. On reaching our initial meeting place, we found a suitable restaurant, had a belly filling meal, and dashed to take a bus to Salem ... Jaggu's home town.

We reached Salem around 4 in the evening. Jaggu took us to a good hotel where we booked our rooms for the night. Had a wash, fell into a short nap, woke up and got dressed to go over to Jaggu's place to meet his parents. Had coffee at his home and with ample pleasantries exchanged, slipped out to make it in time for a movie at a near by theater. Not a good movie ... but.. fine. After the film we went to a local eat out ... out in the open under a cool black night's canopy of dazzling bright stars. Closing the dinner with generous helpings of multi-flavored ice-creams we dragged ourselves back to our rooms and pulled the sheets over our numb heads.

The next morning we all got ready by 7:30 and went over to Jaggu's place, where his father had booked a sumo for us to go to a place called Yercard, a hill station about an hour and a half's journey from Salem. With a sweet brown coffee quickly gulped down we sped towards the hills. There we visited many spots ... none too extradinary or out of the world ... but just had fun with photos and climbing over safety railings to walk around not-so-dangerous cliffs. We spent around 5 hours there, and drove down back to Salem. With lunch over by 4:00 we had to rush back to the rooms, for the B'lore people had to catch the 5 o'clock train ... for which they had to go and buy the tickets at the last minute.

Some how, managing to make it in time ... we jumped out of the same sumo into a bustling crowd at the station. Waving a quick and pretty unceremonious farewell to the B'lore guys ... we made it to the bus stop where we Chennai guys took our bus back home.

On the whole ... the trip was more than satisfying ... All are eagerly looking for the next best opportunity to make another great escape into such wild holidays.