The moment my neighbor, who works in a school for 'Special Children' informed me about their forthcoming annual function, I knew I wanted to attend it. It was indeed very sweet of her to convey my desire to the Principal of the school and seek her permission.
Well the so called invitation was a very informal one. She asked me to be there by 8:00 A.M to help them out in the preparations before the commencement of the function that was scheduled at 9:30 A.M.
I reached the venue on time. As I got down from my car, I saw a little girl dressed in a golden saree and laden with jewellery. Her mom escorted her inside the premises. I could make out that she is a special child and she was looking very sweet and shy.
As I met my neighbor backstage in a room, where the hustle bustle and last minute arrangments, rehearsals were being done, she introduced me to everyone and asked the other teachers to assign me some work as well. And within seconds one of the teachers asked me to put 'tilak' on two of the children playing the roles of Ram and Laxman for their play called "Sita ka Swayamvar". Now considering my drawing, painting and whatever is so pathetic, I was even reluctant to draw a tilak (as in a straight line) on their forehead with the paint brush.
But I knew I had to do it, thinking of the kind of impression that would be formed if I said no. So I drew the tilak on Ram and Laxman's forehead. The two of them were so calm and obedient. And I could spot no difference between them and the 'non special children'. I gave them smile and got a cute smile back. Helped them out in other things. I turned to spot the same little girl in golden saree and came to know that she is playing the role of 'sita' in the play. I told her that she is looking v pretty and she just smiled away shyly. Her mother was all the more happy to hear that compliment. And then I just went strolling to meet other children. A number of them were on a wheelchair but dressed up as participants.
All of them knew that they are to perform in the function and they all took their respective roles seriously. Their dedication was amazing to watch. There was this naughty one who told me that everything is gonna go well in the function and introduced me to other children telling who is going to play which role.
And when the stage was all set to start the programme, I sat amongst the audience to enjoy the event. When these children came one by one on stage to enact their roles despite their shortcomings, my heart just went out for them. It was so difficult to hold the tears. Similar feelings were growing in everyone's heart. I could see people getting emotional. It was not out of sympathy, speaking for myself, I cried because I had never seen such purity, such innocence,such sanctity and truthfullness anywhere so far. These kids appeared to me as the purest form of humankind created by God. They exuberated so much of innocence, crudeness through their expressions which just touched me.
The thing is today even a young kid is very smart and polished. He/she says what he is taught but lacks his natural innocence. But these special kids had that natural spark to believe in them. I remember few funny lines from the act. When 'ravana' is unable to pick up the 'dhanush' in sita ka swayamvar, a cute little girl ( i cant recall which role she was doing), stood up and said 'Jab Ravana ye dhanush nhi utha paye to kaun utha payega'; 'Ab sita ki shaadi kisse hogi? Kya ab sita kuwari (unmarried) reh jayegi'...and then everyone in the audience broke into smiles, considering the way that cute litte girl said these dialogues.
I want to say hats off to the parents and hats off to the teachers for respecting a special form of humankind and making them capable of doing what is even so difficult for the non-special children, for people like us - and i.e. being truly able to win other's heart and earn tremendous respect for oneself.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Thursday, November 26, 2009
My first blood donation
Date: 25th Nov,09
Place: Visakhapatnam
Occassion: Celebration of Navy Week
Ever since my husband sought my consent to donate blood alongwith him, I had been taking pride in my affirmative decision to go ahead with it. It was for the first time that I had thought in such a direction. Actually, had thought many times before, but never really had the courage or motivation to do it. So I was all the more enthusiastic and anxious to go for it.
Now, finally the 25th of Nov came, I made sure to prepare a heavy breakfast for both of us, just in case it would add few more units of blood into our systems. I joined my husband around lunch time near a point and we headed towards the destination. As we entered the hospital, I realized I was the only female donor around with none turned up so far.
First, we were made to go for the routing Hb check-up followed by normal medical examination. And then, we entered the blood donation room. I could read silent admiration for me in the eyes of other officers and sailors (well, I take it that way ;)). I just wanted to jump into the bed and start the process as early as possible. And as if the staff could read my 'utsukta',a lady nurse came in and tied my right arm with a band to accumulate the blood supply in that region and gave me smiley ball to squeeze it.
Well, I bombarded the nurse with all sort of questions like -Is this needle fresh? Have you noted my name on the bag? How much more time will you take to give me that injection? And there within seconds she inserted the needle (needle is an underword for that 'mota vala' injection). And the blood donation process started. And I again questioned her if the blood flow was proper. She had no choice but to leave me ignored. Hehe, poor girl. I tortured her with my 'pakau' questions.
The best was when she unwinded everything and asked me to get up, I asked -If you want more blood, I have no problems, here take it. She said, no thanks, this much is sufficient. And immediately gave me a 'maaza' and 'Orange cream biscuits' and rescued herself from my nautankis.
Jokes apart, I really felt glad for being able to do something for the needy ones. More than the pride, there was a sense of embarrasement that why have I not done such a noble thing ever before.
I hope to carry these emotions as well as good health to donate blood atleast once in a year.
Place: Visakhapatnam
Occassion: Celebration of Navy Week
Ever since my husband sought my consent to donate blood alongwith him, I had been taking pride in my affirmative decision to go ahead with it. It was for the first time that I had thought in such a direction. Actually, had thought many times before, but never really had the courage or motivation to do it. So I was all the more enthusiastic and anxious to go for it.
Now, finally the 25th of Nov came, I made sure to prepare a heavy breakfast for both of us, just in case it would add few more units of blood into our systems. I joined my husband around lunch time near a point and we headed towards the destination. As we entered the hospital, I realized I was the only female donor around with none turned up so far.
First, we were made to go for the routing Hb check-up followed by normal medical examination. And then, we entered the blood donation room. I could read silent admiration for me in the eyes of other officers and sailors (well, I take it that way ;)). I just wanted to jump into the bed and start the process as early as possible. And as if the staff could read my 'utsukta',a lady nurse came in and tied my right arm with a band to accumulate the blood supply in that region and gave me smiley ball to squeeze it.
Well, I bombarded the nurse with all sort of questions like -Is this needle fresh? Have you noted my name on the bag? How much more time will you take to give me that injection? And there within seconds she inserted the needle (needle is an underword for that 'mota vala' injection). And the blood donation process started. And I again questioned her if the blood flow was proper. She had no choice but to leave me ignored. Hehe, poor girl. I tortured her with my 'pakau' questions.
The best was when she unwinded everything and asked me to get up, I asked -If you want more blood, I have no problems, here take it. She said, no thanks, this much is sufficient. And immediately gave me a 'maaza' and 'Orange cream biscuits' and rescued herself from my nautankis.
Jokes apart, I really felt glad for being able to do something for the needy ones. More than the pride, there was a sense of embarrasement that why have I not done such a noble thing ever before.
I hope to carry these emotions as well as good health to donate blood atleast once in a year.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Tale of a coffee shop
Ever since I have come to vizag, I have not really enjoyed any of the outdoor visits so far. I have been madly craving for paani-puri (spicy n slightly sweet); bhalla-papri, kulche chole, kadi chawal, dahi-bhalla, aaloo tikki, aaloo, gobhi, pyaaz, chane ki daal k pranthas...to name a few. At times I feel like opening a food restaurant that would provide all these delicacies to people like me.
One evening, me and my husband decided to go for a cup of coffee at a popular coffee shop that has its franchisee all across India and abroad. It has always been our favourite coffee joint and we had often dated each other there before marriage in Delhi. So here I am narrating a small incident at that coffee shop.
Place: Coffee shop, visakhapatnam;
As we entered, there were countable people sitting as against the fully packed shop that we would witness in Delhi/Mumbai. In a way it was good as we thought we would be very dilligently attended. But here comes the Murphy's Law. A lady after about 10 mins came and stood before us waiting for the order to be placed.
Our order:
Mochachillo-1;
Cafe Frappe-1;
Spinach and Corn Sandwich (assuming it would be grilled one)-1
Now we waited and waited for the order to come. After several minutes, it was placed at our table. But we realized that 'Mochachillo' had not be given. We assumed that the lady might get it in the next round. Further, the sandwich was not grilled. I asked her if they dont give a grilled sandwich. She just nodded her head of which I could draw no meaning and then she flew to serve another table. Now, since 'Mochachillo' was for me, and I had to wait, so had to my husband. And in that process, I finished half his 'Cafe Frappe'. So much so time passed over, that we lost our patience to wait and called that lady. We asked her as to how much more time it will take for my order. She very calmly replied "I told u sir that 'Mochachillo' is not available at the time when I brought your order at the table.....
Now me and my husband looked at each other in surprise with our eyes speaking "Ye kab hua, ya kab bola; hume kyu nhi sunayi diya"...I felt like shouting at that lady but realized its of no use. Now the point I want to make out of this whole episode is that- Had it been a metropolitan like Delhi, Mumbai etc, then how the whole episode would have looked like:
Order: Same
We would still have to wait due to the heavy rush . And upon receiving the 'un-grilled sandwich' , would have enquired why its not grilled and the steward would have promptly asked: "Sir you want a grilled sandwich? I will just get it for you". And the additional cost of 'grilling it in oven' would have been quietly added to the bill.That is just so smart of them.
Further, upon the unavailability of "Mochahillo', the guy would have given us plenty of 'Mocachilo alternatives' and we would have obviously gone for another cold coffee variant rather than sitting and speculating, as we did in that coffee shop.
The coffee shop remains the same, but the way services are delivered are absolutely different. My only piece of advice to that coffee shop people is: Get smarter and never say NO to a customer. After all 'he' only caters for your Bread and Butter.
One evening, me and my husband decided to go for a cup of coffee at a popular coffee shop that has its franchisee all across India and abroad. It has always been our favourite coffee joint and we had often dated each other there before marriage in Delhi. So here I am narrating a small incident at that coffee shop.
Place: Coffee shop, visakhapatnam;
As we entered, there were countable people sitting as against the fully packed shop that we would witness in Delhi/Mumbai. In a way it was good as we thought we would be very dilligently attended. But here comes the Murphy's Law. A lady after about 10 mins came and stood before us waiting for the order to be placed.
Our order:
Mochachillo-1;
Cafe Frappe-1;
Spinach and Corn Sandwich (assuming it would be grilled one)-1
Now we waited and waited for the order to come. After several minutes, it was placed at our table. But we realized that 'Mochachillo' had not be given. We assumed that the lady might get it in the next round. Further, the sandwich was not grilled. I asked her if they dont give a grilled sandwich. She just nodded her head of which I could draw no meaning and then she flew to serve another table. Now, since 'Mochachillo' was for me, and I had to wait, so had to my husband. And in that process, I finished half his 'Cafe Frappe'. So much so time passed over, that we lost our patience to wait and called that lady. We asked her as to how much more time it will take for my order. She very calmly replied "I told u sir that 'Mochachillo' is not available at the time when I brought your order at the table.....
Now me and my husband looked at each other in surprise with our eyes speaking "Ye kab hua, ya kab bola; hume kyu nhi sunayi diya"...I felt like shouting at that lady but realized its of no use. Now the point I want to make out of this whole episode is that- Had it been a metropolitan like Delhi, Mumbai etc, then how the whole episode would have looked like:
Order: Same
We would still have to wait due to the heavy rush . And upon receiving the 'un-grilled sandwich' , would have enquired why its not grilled and the steward would have promptly asked: "Sir you want a grilled sandwich? I will just get it for you". And the additional cost of 'grilling it in oven' would have been quietly added to the bill.That is just so smart of them.
Further, upon the unavailability of "Mochahillo', the guy would have given us plenty of 'Mocachilo alternatives' and we would have obviously gone for another cold coffee variant rather than sitting and speculating, as we did in that coffee shop.
The coffee shop remains the same, but the way services are delivered are absolutely different. My only piece of advice to that coffee shop people is: Get smarter and never say NO to a customer. After all 'he' only caters for your Bread and Butter.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Once Again
Finally I am back into blogging after a long pause. I dont really have much to talk or write .As it is, the most boring thing in the world is to type. Only if someone could do it for me, my blog account would be in a different shape altogether.
Without giving any melodramatic background, all I want to say is that yessss its again time to pack bags and go from my current place in vizag to.......Any guesses? to another place in vizag only.Haha. Vo isliye because we have finally got naval accomodation. Place is sufi, no doubts but far away from the city. And I know, given my nature, I am going to get bored there too.
Anyways, I dont have much time to waste, I better get back to packing all my stuff once again.
By the way, considering this shifting, re-shifting, re-re shifting becoming more of a routine activity, I am sure to turn into an efficient 'packer and mover'. So if at all anyone needs any favour from me on this aspect, I AM THE ONE.
And BTW, these suggestions are not free fund ki, favors come at a cost.HUH!
Without giving any melodramatic background, all I want to say is that yessss its again time to pack bags and go from my current place in vizag to.......Any guesses? to another place in vizag only.Haha. Vo isliye because we have finally got naval accomodation. Place is sufi, no doubts but far away from the city. And I know, given my nature, I am going to get bored there too.
Anyways, I dont have much time to waste, I better get back to packing all my stuff once again.
By the way, considering this shifting, re-shifting, re-re shifting becoming more of a routine activity, I am sure to turn into an efficient 'packer and mover'. So if at all anyone needs any favour from me on this aspect, I AM THE ONE.
And BTW, these suggestions are not free fund ki, favors come at a cost.HUH!
Monday, June 15, 2009
Halwa rice & Malpua bhatura
I thought that since now I have no choice but to be a housewife till the time a lucratice job offer comes my way, why not be a 'good housewife'. So like a typical husband devoted Indian housewife, I planned to try out few dishes to impress my husband.
Lekin jo bas ki nhi hai, vo kabhi nhi ho sakta. I started to prepare a very basic item i.e rice. Just Imagine- Rice. Ji haan, vo bhi nhi bne..Actually not that i do not know how to prepare it, but I wanted to prepare vo starch-free rice, wherein the amount of water is 4 times the rice taken and finally the excess water is drained out. Now me being typically me, i added excessive amount of water and what came out in the end cant be penned down. Achhe khase rajma ka bhi pappu bann gya coz of those rice, I mean halwa rice. Chopsey to tab huyi when my husband came home for lunch and was so happy to learn that i have cooked rajma rice. His reaction would be stated in the end as he has by now witnessed many such incidents.
Another interesting incident was when i dared to think of making 'Bhaturas' of chole-bhature fame. With oodles of over-confidence, i kneaded the maida with yet again excessive amount of curd and left it covered as I was to prepare them for dinner. Now, when that moment arrived and I headed towards the kitchen proudly boasting of how my cooking skills would shortly be winning over my husband's heart, my husband received a 'help-me dear' call coming from the kitchen. He ran towards the kitchen, thinking I have as usual bruised my fingers with knife or hot oil (another common incident for the freshers like me). And there I was standing with such an innocent and vulnerable expression on my face, pointing at the dough as well as my hands that were covered with the 'sticky dough'. I told him that none of my attempts so far have been successful in making a decent dough ball out this 'sticky mass'. He as usual had the last laugh and I with my high headed attitude demended him to help me out. He with a 'never-give-up' personna, somehow managed to prepare dough balls (with the aid of maida flour). I was just standing besides him, very happy to help him in frying the flattened balls that came out in the form of 'malpuas'. It was a delight to have chole-malpuas for both of us ( Actually we had no choice, so we enjoyed till the last bite).
Well, having said that-i am in no mood to pull back from making fresh attempts in trying out new things. Akhir fauji ki biwi hun, wont lose hope. Soch rahi hun aur kya try karun? Any suggestions? Do share any of such similar incidents in your life.
Lekin jo bas ki nhi hai, vo kabhi nhi ho sakta. I started to prepare a very basic item i.e rice. Just Imagine- Rice. Ji haan, vo bhi nhi bne..Actually not that i do not know how to prepare it, but I wanted to prepare vo starch-free rice, wherein the amount of water is 4 times the rice taken and finally the excess water is drained out. Now me being typically me, i added excessive amount of water and what came out in the end cant be penned down. Achhe khase rajma ka bhi pappu bann gya coz of those rice, I mean halwa rice. Chopsey to tab huyi when my husband came home for lunch and was so happy to learn that i have cooked rajma rice. His reaction would be stated in the end as he has by now witnessed many such incidents.
Another interesting incident was when i dared to think of making 'Bhaturas' of chole-bhature fame. With oodles of over-confidence, i kneaded the maida with yet again excessive amount of curd and left it covered as I was to prepare them for dinner. Now, when that moment arrived and I headed towards the kitchen proudly boasting of how my cooking skills would shortly be winning over my husband's heart, my husband received a 'help-me dear' call coming from the kitchen. He ran towards the kitchen, thinking I have as usual bruised my fingers with knife or hot oil (another common incident for the freshers like me). And there I was standing with such an innocent and vulnerable expression on my face, pointing at the dough as well as my hands that were covered with the 'sticky dough'. I told him that none of my attempts so far have been successful in making a decent dough ball out this 'sticky mass'. He as usual had the last laugh and I with my high headed attitude demended him to help me out. He with a 'never-give-up' personna, somehow managed to prepare dough balls (with the aid of maida flour). I was just standing besides him, very happy to help him in frying the flattened balls that came out in the form of 'malpuas'. It was a delight to have chole-malpuas for both of us ( Actually we had no choice, so we enjoyed till the last bite).
Well, having said that-i am in no mood to pull back from making fresh attempts in trying out new things. Akhir fauji ki biwi hun, wont lose hope. Soch rahi hun aur kya try karun? Any suggestions? Do share any of such similar incidents in your life.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Shifting Pain
This shifting pain is irritating me too much. Kabhi idhar kabhi udhar. Going nuts!
Well, I am talking about the shifting stress due to change of place time and again.
First from Mumbai to Vizag. Pehle properly set the house and one fine day you are asked to leave. Sigh!
Then you are given shelter in mess accomodation. Chalo yahan tak all fine. To add to your woes, their is a long waiting for naval accomodation. So the search begins to find out a house outside in the city.
Your stress level shoots up when the time limit for temporary accomodation has ended and you are still homeless.
Now begins another shifting process to a coursemate's house.Thus, another round of re-packing and unpacking at a new place.
And before patience break hone ki intihaan ho jaye, god blesses you with a rented accomodation that allows you to spend considerable length of time at a particular place before the next order of transfer.
The most positive outcome amongst all these woes is the 'Exposure and Ability' you derive in tackling the odds and coming out with a solution. 'An anti-pain' for this shifting pain.
Do tell me if any of you have gone through such shifting pains?
Well, I am talking about the shifting stress due to change of place time and again.
First from Mumbai to Vizag. Pehle properly set the house and one fine day you are asked to leave. Sigh!
Then you are given shelter in mess accomodation. Chalo yahan tak all fine. To add to your woes, their is a long waiting for naval accomodation. So the search begins to find out a house outside in the city.
Your stress level shoots up when the time limit for temporary accomodation has ended and you are still homeless.
Now begins another shifting process to a coursemate's house.Thus, another round of re-packing and unpacking at a new place.
And before patience break hone ki intihaan ho jaye, god blesses you with a rented accomodation that allows you to spend considerable length of time at a particular place before the next order of transfer.
The most positive outcome amongst all these woes is the 'Exposure and Ability' you derive in tackling the odds and coming out with a solution. 'An anti-pain' for this shifting pain.
Do tell me if any of you have gone through such shifting pains?
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Adieu Mumbai
Actually I should have written this blog long back while I was in mumbai. Courtesy my reluctance to type, I did not make an iota of effort to update the blog. Nevertheless, thanks to my dear friend who actually pin-pointed that its high time you write something in your 'already drought-ridden blog area' [this I am adding on my own ;)], I giving 'kasht' to my hands.
Well, I am missing Mumbai so much. I have not really started to enjoy the new place i.e vizag. I have always had problem accepting new things in my life. So vizag you will have to really wait long to get my admiration and acceptance (As if it cares or can care)
What fabulous moments I had in mumbai. Travelling daily from colaba end to navi mumbai for work. Struggling to catch bus then locals. It was a routine I had started to like. My marriage bangles (in the early months in Mumbai when I had come after marriage )were always the centre of attraction in the ladies coupe. The typical style with which girls/ladies say 'Shift' to get some space to sit was so funny. I would try imitate that before my husband :) The best thing in locals was the neembu trading. I mean what one would get at Rs 1 for 1 neembu, in locals it was 30-40 neembus for just Rs 10 and I had never left any such lucrative offer. I know I sound typically middle class. As if I care. HUH!
I made some very good friends with whom had full masti sessions. We would play intranet antakshari, sing, dance, play stupid bachoon vali games; exude oodles of style ( with no one to give bhaw to it). And then in no time would start to discuss upon some serious issues. These are the people whom I will cherish life-long.
My memory of my 1st house: 52 Vishakha would always be close to my heart. How we (my husband as well) had groomed the entire house, its nook and corner slowly, with so much love and emotions.
Well, this is life! Its a mix of happiness and sorrow. Nothing is here for permanent.
Its a cycle. But I am happy that the weight of my happy memories in Mumbai is more than that of sorrow memories. I have to move on and welcome a new chapter of life with a cheerful spirit like that of Mumbai. Adieu Mumbai!
Well, I am missing Mumbai so much. I have not really started to enjoy the new place i.e vizag. I have always had problem accepting new things in my life. So vizag you will have to really wait long to get my admiration and acceptance (As if it cares or can care)
What fabulous moments I had in mumbai. Travelling daily from colaba end to navi mumbai for work. Struggling to catch bus then locals. It was a routine I had started to like. My marriage bangles (in the early months in Mumbai when I had come after marriage )were always the centre of attraction in the ladies coupe. The typical style with which girls/ladies say 'Shift' to get some space to sit was so funny. I would try imitate that before my husband :) The best thing in locals was the neembu trading. I mean what one would get at Rs 1 for 1 neembu, in locals it was 30-40 neembus for just Rs 10 and I had never left any such lucrative offer. I know I sound typically middle class. As if I care. HUH!
I made some very good friends with whom had full masti sessions. We would play intranet antakshari, sing, dance, play stupid bachoon vali games; exude oodles of style ( with no one to give bhaw to it). And then in no time would start to discuss upon some serious issues. These are the people whom I will cherish life-long.
My memory of my 1st house: 52 Vishakha would always be close to my heart. How we (my husband as well) had groomed the entire house, its nook and corner slowly, with so much love and emotions.
Well, this is life! Its a mix of happiness and sorrow. Nothing is here for permanent.
Its a cycle. But I am happy that the weight of my happy memories in Mumbai is more than that of sorrow memories. I have to move on and welcome a new chapter of life with a cheerful spirit like that of Mumbai. Adieu Mumbai!
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