Author: Tulika

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The cup

Yay yay yay.. the cup is home and now they’re saying it’s not the real thing at all. Hey but who cares?? We won. Oh it’s a late reaction I know but remember people there was the weekend to contend with. Besides, this post was too important to be passed over. So yay once more.



Pic courtesy Google pics



… and now for some confessions.
I’m not a cricket buff.. not really a sports buff at all yet there are facets of cricket I truly enjoy watching.
1. The cricketers rather than cricket…
… and even that is losing its charm as they get younger and younger and seem dangerously part of a totally different generation. Oh well let me admit.. I’m getting older and older to actually enjoy the whole thing. I might still think Dhoni is cute with his hair gone or that Sree Santh is cute with his hair all there but that’s the point.. now they’re ‘cute’ no longer ‘hot’. 
There was a time when the walls of our room were plastered with Ravi Shastri (yes this is a long time back). There used to be this whole Azhar gang and we’d spend the almost hour-long bus journey bickering over the two. I would cut out Shastri’s score sheets from the newspaper and actually attempted to get a vague understanding of the game for the man’s sake, which has since deserted me.
2. .. the stands rather than the field.
Celeb spotting is a real hit with me. I might watch Preety Zinta and Aamir Khan every other day on the telly, I might not even really like them but seeing them in the stands is just so much fun. Forget Aamir Khan even a Sunil Shetty or a Gautam Snghania or a Ragini Khanna (She’s a TV actor and no I do not expect you to know who she is) can get me all excited. Oh and don’t think I’ve not had my share of celebs. I’ve in fact interviewed quite a range of them yet the thrill lives on.
Cute, haan?
3. … the post match celebrations rather than the match itself.
The night we won the finals I was down with a bad cold. As I put the kids to bed the sleep-inducing medicine got the better of me and I dozed off over my book. Anyway, when the considerate husband came to switch off the lights I protested, “No no .. I’m not sleeping..I’m coming to watch the match”. And the next thing I heard was firecrackers going off. I jumped off the bed to see Dhoni hefting off the last six and Yuvaraj falling over him in happiness as he stood there grinning. That’s as much of the match as I watched. After that, however, I was wide awake through the victory lap (wasn’t it the greatest?), the prize distribution, the champagne opening et al. Long after the broadcast ended I stood watching kids in the society parading with the Indian flag and clicking pics to shouts of ‘India India’. After they went home, I surfed news channels till 1 am watching Shah Rukh and Hrithik with wives and Indian flag and Sonia Gandhi ‘on’ not ‘in’ her car. (Double kick.. celebs and celebration). Oh it was so much fun
She’s rarely so animated.. loved it
4. .. and finally the commentary about cricketers rather than cricket..
.. I mean what would it matter to me how many fielders were fielding where or whether it’s a short ball or a long ball.. the ball’s round all the time, isn’t it? Anyway in the midst of all this drivel lie some perfect gems. Of course Siddhu used to be the best of them all till he went completely OTT. My favourite line from this time was what one of the commentators said for Sachin ‘Kakdi jaise thandhe’.. Perfect translation of  “Cool as cucumber”. Lovely.
An now an oath…
I solemnly promise I shall refrain from writing about cricket till the next world cup.. no IPL or even the most happening series shall hereby tempt me to foist my cricketing views or the lack of the same on anyone.
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Mirror mirror on the wall

Thursday Challenge: REFLECTIONS (Mirrors, Windows, Water, Sunglasses,…)



 I love this baby Naisha from when she was not quite two. I love her barely-there-hair and two-teeth smile and the way she’s looking right at the camera. She could pose even then!

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Mohali ka mahaul

Pic courtesy Google pictures
As India and Pakistan battle it out in Mohali there’s a battle raging at home too – the big battle for the remote.
Men in blue vs Chhota Bheem
The Husband came home early today ‘to watch the match’. But of course he’d forgotten he’d have to contend with the two young ones. The men in blue were competing with Chhota Bheem. “3 to 4 is our TV time,” announced Hrit indignantly when The Husband tried to wrest the remote from him. The Husband was taken aback at this utterly unpatriotic, totally unloyal, completely blasphemous response.
Saam Daam Dand Bhed …
He tried to get the kids interested. “Let’s all watch the match together,” said he. “It’s great fun. Those men in blue are from India.. that’s our team. We are batting and Pakistan is fielding.” “But I want to watch Chhota Bheem,” persisted Naisha. The Husband yelled out to me. “Hey look they’re not letting me watch.” Did I ever mention I have three children? Anyway as a rule I never interfere in their petty squabbles. Besides I was totally enjoying The Husband’s predicament… heh heh heh.
After ten minutes of coaxing he tried parental authority, “Now I’ll really get angry,” he said without looking in the least bit threatening. He did, however, manage to take away the remote and tuned in to the National Channel. Strange how kids catch on to these nuances. Hrit just knew he could get away with it and so swiped the remote and it was back to Chhota Bheem.
Finally then he used the bramhastra, “I’ll call mama. You’ll see what happens, then,” he threatened. Anyway the clock had inched its way to four O clock and TV time was up. Time to intervene, I decided. So The Husband settled down and the kids got up for their evening milk.
.. and then this 
The Husband’s troubles were not over though. A crow flew down to our balcony. “Arre why has the crow come here,” said he. “It never comes, does it?” (He wouldn’t know he’s hardly home at this hour, and the crow does come.) “It’s not a good sign,” he prophesied darkly, “we’ll lose.” And thus did cricket turn my pragmatic, sensible Husband into a superstitious 18th century man. The kids were summoned expressly to shoo away the offending creature.
The Husband sits there now as the fifth wicket falls repeating like a chant, “We’ll win. We’ll win. Pakistan doesn’t have it in it to make more than 180-200.”
In other related news …
I went to the vegetable vendor and saw rather sad-looking vegetable there. Said the lady, “Kya karein didi. Taazi subzi lane ka kya fayada. Do baje ke baad toh koi dikhega nahin adhe din ke liye kya karne ka?”
My sis and mom were thrilled to get half a day off from the premier educational institute where both of them are lecturers.
My neighbour who works with a telecom company also got a half day. He and his colleagues rushed off to the company guest house to watch the match unencumbered by wife and kids.
My oncologist sis-in-law called me on her way back from the hospital chatting while she drove ‘because the roads were practically empty’. “The hospital is deserted. Doctors patients have all gone home. My cancer ward is empty too, save for two patients,” said she. And the said patients, possibly terminal cases, rather than worrying for their lives were worried about India’s chances of defeating Pakistan. They were terribly upset that the ward didn’t have a TV set. So sis-in-law ‘reserved’ two sofas in the hospital lobby for them. At 2.30 they went down, drips and all, to watch the match. The less- serious patients made their way to the cafeteria. “But that’s normal,” she said, “We even schedule Chemos depending on Indo-Pak match timings.”

And there’s more. Says she, “I became sensitive to the importance of the game after I saw the passion of a favourite patient of mine.” A young boy of 23, he knew he had little time left. He was on morphine to keep away the pain. As an India-Pak contest drew close he requested, “Doctor don’t give me too much morphine I don’t want to fall asleep during the match.”
That’s cricket to people in India and that’s what an Indo-Pak match is all about.

Edited to add: At the time of posting India looks like it has a fair chance at a win. Fingers crossed… toes crossed too.

Edited to add again: Yay yay yay!!!!!

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Happiness math

Saturday happiness is..

1. Kadhi, rice and baingan bharta for lunch.
2. A walk down MG Road on Saturday evening.
3. Colourful shoelaces for my purple shoes.
4. Balloons for the kids.
5. The gaming zone at the mall.
6. New waterbottles.
7. New swimsuits.
8. Dosas and watermelon juice for dinner with Naisha smacking everyone who passed by our table with the balloon and Hrit slurping up the watermelon juice with total relish.

On Sunday…

1. An hour and a half splashing about in the society pool in new swimsuits.
2. Ice candies for dessert.
3. Bracelets of ‘leftover’ balloons.
…and the downers…
1. Loads and loads of homework (Why why why now, when the session is winding up???)
But that’s it.. that’s the only one.

8+3-1= 10 happy things make for a very happy weekend. 🙂
 
PS: Query from Hrit: Why is watermelon called watermelon? It should be called juicemelon because it is full of juice not water.

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Chhapad phad ke…

…confusion in life. Some time back I’d written I was off down South as The Husband had found a new job. I won’t say I wasn’t dreading it but since we got married I’ve got used to dropping my job, packing up and walking off (not always uncomplainingly, but walking off nonetheless) with him like a loyal wife. Most of the shuttling has, however been between Pune and Bombay. This is how it went.. Bombay-Pune-Bhopal-Pune-Bombay-Pune. The South thing was therefore scary but I was sure I’d settle in over time.

The Husband has duly resigned and just as I was warming up to the idea (I do have lots of friends in Chennai) and convincing the kids it would be a great move (sea, sea, sea) on came more job possibilities.. chhappad phad ke…and now there are three cities other than Pune in the running.

And in the middle of all the possibilities lies my annual trip to Lucknow.. the high point of my summer.

So guys we might be moving but we don’t know where. Maybe The Husband will consider auctioning himself off.

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