Between brothers!!

1. ANGRY WITH ME?

2. WHAT IF I TRY TICKLING?

3. NOOOOO!!! NOT ME.

In this picture are Jacob Martin Ariyamkulathu & Aiden Sabu Vettathu

Odd Man Out

I swim into the water, gazing up at the sky. I thought that’s where I belong. There were too fishes... bright and dull, big and small. The tail flicking fishes send drops sparkling. There were far too many that there was no room left for me. I knew I do not belong there.

I fly into the vast flawless blue sky. I felt weightless and as soft as a feather. I thought sky is where I belong. Slowly my feathers started burning because the sun was too hot and bright. My eyes started burning. I knew I do not belong there either.

I felt the cool breeze of the earth, the green trees that whisper the lover’s tune. There were many trees that spanned several colours from autumn’s palette and innumerable flowers, but the silence was so strong that it froze my soul. I knew I don’t belong here either.

I do not belong to the sea
I do not belong to the sky
I do not belong to the land.
Then where do I belong..
NOWHERE... That’s where I belong

-bs-

Love!!! ...more than a Feeling

Unless you're a parent, reading my post you would probably think I'm crazy!
I've always known I would be a mother, and I always wanted to be one, but I never dreamed I would love it so much.

It’s hard to believe that Aiden is already two and a half months now. Oh.. I never knew babies are this innocent. I love his gummy, toothless smile he gives when I talk to him and the way he tries to respond with his cooing and gurgling. I love cradling him in my arms, playing with his little toes and fingers, making him smile and the way he holds me with his sweet tender fingers.
Life has definitely changed after He coming into our life.

I wish you could know how you make mamma happy in your own little ways.
Last week when his appa (dad) promised to take us out. I will never forget the kalla smile on his face with a ‘ammakku kittatte appede kyil ninnu nallathu’ look when I was late to get ready when appa came back from work. Everything I do everyday is about being a mother.

I love the way he shares the understanding mischief which is unbelievable. Yesterday, we wanted to go out walking and we were scared ammachi wont let us go, as its cold (though he was dressed for the season). I told him not to make any noise. I should say how surprised and overwhelmed I was when the he dint even make a gasp or noise, until we got out of that big house, closed the grill and the understanding smile he gave melted my heart. He's a cool dude and I wouldn’t be surprised if you fall in love when he stares at you with his pretty brown eyes.

Everyday he makes my day special and gives me moments to remember. I never knew until now how you make our life much richer and more meaningful than we could envision and for the overwhelming love and pride that you fill our hearts

Do you know this mother lives for you.. Just for you.
To see you growing, to answer your 1,000 questions about anything and everything, to see you live w/o fear, to see you being happy.

-bs-

The other side...

Letter to Heaven, with Love….

A mother's love's a blessing, no matter where you roam,
Keep her while she's living, you'll miss her when she's gone;
Love her as in childhood, though feeble, old and grey,
For you'll never miss your mother when she's buried beneath the clay (author unknown)

There is no love, like a mothers love. There is no strength, than your thoughts give me, There is no bond, that is stronger than ours..
Its strange that the day you left me is the mothers day…to make the pain so unkind… but memories help me get through.. when I feel so blue.
God being my guide, and you being my strength.. I wish you mothers day with all my love.. till I we meet again…sooner or later.

The way to a mans heart!!!

I am standing in front of everybody with my tear glands going to break, my feminine force going to over power my strong decision not to cry. Trying to control my tears, which might at any moment ooze uncontrollably, I was wondering how careless I can be. Its neither the burn that hurts, nor the red rimmed black mark over my lips that might leave people asking “Oh .. what happened to you, BS?” but the awful truth that the seemingly careless BS is still a long way to a mans heart through the culinary skill.

The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Born in a small traditional Indian family of countless cousins and big team of siblings.. large enough to make a cricket team, in Spring valley, I have heard this proverb at a tender age and I knew the importance of cooking. Every day was a celebration at Tharavaadu. I could feel the mixed small of spices and delicious curries Ammachi and aunts used to make not only tickled my taste buds. Being in boarding school from a tender age, art of cooking was always a mystery to me. May be that’s the reason why I was scared of that 7 letter word. When I reached primary school, one of my worst fear was about my poor culinary skills and I was worried what if my man doesn’t like my cooking.. I could imagine a fat and stout man with big mustache tasting my food and throwing it spinning the product of my hard work all over the place…

During the vacation time, I was allotted my share of work in kitchen. I would imagine myself making the typical hot and spicy meat curry with the Kaattirachi my grand pa would have got the previous night. Or I would think myself as a master of all the appam varieties .. my grandma would make like the soft puffy Paalappam, bit hard kallappam, my favourite cake like soft vattayappam, our Indian noodles, idi appam. But every time when I try to help them, I would be told other work like peeling the onion (that the worst and work I have ever done.), washing the plates or cleaning the room (this is rare). Kids were always given the task of ulli polikkification (peeling the onion). Its is not chuvannulli, then it is savaala.. or else veluthulli. It’s a never ending work.. when we are done with one batch of ulli poliking for irachi curry, next will come for thoran, and by the time we are done with that ullies will be ready for mezhukku peratti. And if we try to help the elders after this ulli polikkification, and plate washing, we are considered as total nuisance trying to invade their land. We would be told to go and play. With no option we wold take leave into the coffee plantation or the forest behind till dawn. My holidays will end with my plans shattered but becoming an expert in ulli polikking.

When I came to high school I started trying my hand in exotic cuisines directly, skipping the basic cooking. The only person who never complains about my food is my dad. when he, who finds it difficult to appreciate the best food my mother-the master chef makes, says my food is Good. Its the best appreciation I could get. My brother whom we call poutery farm, who can eat anything endlessly refuses to take what I prepare.. (what an insult). I was considering myself good in cooking when the greatest shock I got. My father got me a cooking book. That was a warning for me to improve my cooking.

The other day I spoke with Uncle J.Kadaplakel (don’t want my aunt to identify this uncle and see my uncle malnutritioned, losing his weight along with his hair, being deprived of F-O-O-D). part of it went like this

Me: hello uncle J?
Uncle J: BS, so what you doing at home?
Me: what else, trying my hand in cooking. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. u know’
Uncle J: so trying to trap S?
Me: kind of’ *giggle*
Uncle J: even your Aunt tried that. And she is still trying that.. *smile*
Me: did she succeed? *curious smile*
Uncle J: that’s what I said.. she is still trying *hearty laugh* even after 16 years.

Though I know both of them are happy together it’s a warning to all married girls.

Every time I try my hand in culinary skill, I will be left with a memory that will last at least for a week. Mostly it ends up as black marks over my skin. One of the basic and important point when you use cooker is to make sure the vent of the cooker is not closed. One of the best ways is to blow through the weight of the cooker to see it’s not blocked. It works. It works fine every time …when somebody does, but not with me. Today I was trying to make the Erisheri. The vegetables..ie the beans was no cooked well even after two whistles. I thought of keeping it again and I assured the weight is not blocked before replacing it. I remember myself trying to blow through the weight and I heard a sound SsshhHH similar to the sound you hear when you pour water on the big tawa in Thattu kada to make mutta dosa. I was left with a funny mark on my lips. The hot-hot metal had left a goofy mark on my lips.

The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Is it really true? Tell me its not!!!

The Height of Boredom!!!

Its an illegal photo.. but I cudnt leave without capturing this beautiful funny snap from Seematti.. the temple of silks.. in kottayam. I guess the baby's mommy might be busy shopping somewhere there..

isnt it Funny and Cute?

Indian driving

After several years in India, the road rules I am used to, coming and getting used to US road rules is tougher than my ever-hated pharmacology exams. Driving in India is an art, and a game unlike in US where they just follow the rules. Being a born non-follower, and a believer of the rule that “Rules are made to be broken” I was thinking of the Indian traffic rules.In India I am a believer of Karma. Depending on karma either you will survive or the other driver will survive.
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Me in India: I love blowing the horn. It’s a way of expressing myself and letting other drivers joining me. I express frustration, happiness, sadness, irritation, or to wake up the sleeping dog in the road.. and I am happy others will join me with no objection and it will continue like a music (more like my brothers music). He who is loudest gets the right-of-way here.

Me in US: I doubt if their cars have one because I never hear any body using it. Am waiting for a chance to use it on somebody (at least I need to check if the horn is working, right?)
In fact I have forgotten the use of horn.

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Me in India: I love India and driving in India. I just follow the instinct or move in my intended direction, whether it is left or right or center of the road. I can squeeze through the traffic, no matter from which side
Me in US: one of the major causes of husband –wife fight (i.e. us) here is the left and right hand ruleof the road. My sweet hubby kutty and paavam me goes out for a romatic evening for dinner till we reach the corner, and he tells me to keep right while turning left and before I could hear that it would have reached the left curb and my hubby kutty becomes an expert takes the vehicle back to the right lane. (that’s a rare occasion where I get to hear the Horn) Not only he becomes an expert in road.. but an angry, unromantic kettion. That’s not the end of it.. but the end of a romantic evening too and I sleep starving to death. :(

(I do not know why hubby-kutty who drives at 110 mph at a stretch in US free ways in LA-San Diego gets high BP when the highly expert and experinaced taxi driver tries to maneuver through the busy Bangalore Residency road through the narrow space between the Karnataka BMTCs and trucks at a speed of a tortoise per hour.)

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Me in India: when I want to go for a movie (rarely happens) my parents, brothers, sisters, sister in laws all go together in one car, along with brothers kids, not leaving an inch of space. 8 adults and 4 kids go easily and lavishly in my car. In fact no need of a belt, coz there is no chance of being thrown out from the vehicle and I don’t find the use of seat belt.

Me in US: even my 1 year old nice has to have her own seat and I feel the suffocation of the tied up kid in safety belt and the separately joined child safety seat. And when the whole family goes out, it reminds me of Hindi movies- fight scene where some 5-10 vehicles follow the hero.

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Me in India: crossing the road in India is a chance to hold on to the hands of whoever is near you while crossing the road. And guess what you will love crossing road if you love adventure

Me in US: I wait for the vehicle to pass, and they wait for me to move… at last the wait ends when the driver puts his/her out and waves me to move on with a friendly grin… and I recognize I am not in India and how I miss India.

Driving in India is like playing the video game. The points will be added up when you overtake each car. And there are reward points when you overtake cows, stray dogs, trucks, goats, auto rickshaws and pedestrians and beggars. Oh.. How I miss India!!

Rocky in Action...

It’s after a long time that I met my aunt. A lot of changes I could see over the time. I was stepping inside with my usual baggage which follows me like the hutch dog. Where ever I go the small black bag pack which can hold my essentials follows..
The warm friendly welcome from my aunty was followed by a sudden change in expression which I couldn’t read ..

She screamed: “climb on the table:”
She was always a funny person, who liked playing with people and making fun of them, for their entire life. I dint want to be one.
Me: standing , trying to act cool, but still confused over the unexpected change in her behavior.
Aunt: “I say climb on the table. Climb .. faaaast..”
Me: what in the world is she trying to do with me. Still trying to act cool
Aunt: “edee, Beenakuttee. Rocky varunnundu. Aa meshel keran” (climb on the table before Rocky is here”)
Me: what a wonderful welcome!!
Wondering who rocky is. My aunt is a person who hided her pregnancy for whole 9 months and gave us a shock of life with his newly born baby Kannan years back. Is rocky another surprise?
Before I could think more.. I could see a dog coming running towards me, through the side verandah. And there he was , Kannan behind him.
Kannan: “B. chechi, Climb on the table”. This time it was more clear about who rocky is, and the reason why aunt was telling to jump on the big table.
I threw my ever-following bag pack (I was good in throw ball in school u see), and there I was on top of the table (good in high jump too) calling all Gods, and scary fierce looking rocky running around my table as if he lost sense.
It took sometime to make Rocky calm down.

I love dogs, ut not this one. He is good with them… pla

ys with Kannan. wags the tail and screws up her (I think it’s a SHE.. or may be it’s a HE) face and all I did was take few snaps of Rocky.. funny yet Scary.
Rocky is funny to watch.. just watch

*all that happened was Kannan opened Rockys cage to play with him, and I entered the house without his permission which made him go wild.

Take up your cross!!! Plan your lent!!!

I don't really consider myself much of a religious person but I do want to connect myself with the sacrifice of Jesus. This lent, I really want to have an effect on me. I wanted to observe the lent this time… the forty-day liturgical season that initiates the most sacred part of the Christian year. This time let it be NO-NO.. to all the Non Veg items. It all started with the ash Wednesday. Remember I am going to leave all my favorites for 40 days. (Its not 40 days but people say .. same like every senti-mummy dialogues which goes.. I carried you for 10 months and u *sob* and u.. *sob*. I dunno which mother carries for 10 months. Its 9 months 1 week.. Round it, its still 9 months. May be its extra bonus period you get Free with every pregnancy to claim.

Is there any connection between the stomach and consciousness? A great question indeed!! The latter serve as a reminder to the former.. reminding me.. “Beena . You are fasting”. “Beena You are fasting”. Its ok if the consciousness reminds me of the fasting, but it reminds me of the all tasty mouth drizzling NV dishes ammachi made, or the Big Mac Offer from Mc Donalds.. making you more hungry.. and reminding you of the temptations Jesus underwent. (Dunno if he had to face my favorite Big Mac offer temptation,..)..The sufferings he faced, his death and resurrection.

Wednesday morning :Day 1
Gave up fish, chicken, mutton, beef. Egg is considered as a vegetarian.. so I am a perfect follower of lent… the poor eggetarian.

Day 2
Its not difficult to sacrifice the meat or fish when I have so many other options from the loving heavenly father. I did not fall for the grilled beef we made in the evening.

Day 5
Sunday morning
A devoted christian in church by morning. It’s on the way that we decided to have Breakfast from outside. As a semi-regular cook, this is something, which sounds like music to my ears. It was difficult to select any vegetarian food, but I am a veggie of 50 days.. and I decided on a sardough, when mr. Hubby and MIL ammachi decided on my favorite buretto, which contains lots of meat.. a real devil in front of a true Christian. I was savoring the breakfast and I was half way through when I noticed the bacon in that.
It’s a difficult thing to decide.. what to do with the bacon in that. Its not that I can keep the bacon aside and continue with food, but ammachi wont be happy to see me keeping it there. She is a lovely lady who wants everybody to eat.. and reminds everyone every now and then to eat.

Scene 1
Me taking the bacon from the sardough and keepting it down. *sob*
ammachi looking at me and making a notion to eat it. New-daughter-in-law…who is not supposed to make a scene, gulps it down without saying word. Ammachi giving me a coarse look... a warning to the advise on healthy eating which can follow anytime.
Mr.Hubby not happy with my silly idea of fasting, and understanding the look of ammachi, gives me a still worse look.
In fact this dint happen... to prevent it from happening.. I gulped everything. A small piece of bacon only one day should not do any harm to my fasting. Should it?

Day 6 and 7
A strict follower of lent and a true Christian. It was then raaman, (Mr.hubbys family friend for years) and his family invited us for the dinner. A good intention!!

Day 8
A pleasant day at Ramans house. a Birthday party cum inviatation for the newly wed couples. (It’s strange that we are still called newly Wed. its almost two years and still we are called the new couples. Its partly because we did not visit much of our relatives after the wedding…but mostly the reason is this. My husband-kutty being the youngest of the small family of seven children…(all married except him) and petest and pamperest and soapiest* and what else. So till his elderrr sisterrrrs elderrrr daughterrrr gets married, who is still studying, we are going to be the newly wed Couples.
When the newly wed were offered the choice of fish or meat, I did not want raman or his handsome grandson (sshh!! secret *wicked smile*) to feel offended. I was again in the same dilemma. After all I do not like fish much. And I don’t want the imaginary carls Jr scene to be real. I left the lent on fish. *sob*

Day 9
A pure eggietarian plus fishitarian, and a follower of 50 day lent. *proud of mself*

Day 10
Lunch in SIL’s house. (sister in law… not son inlaw) *wink* .
A warm lovely lady, whose brunch invitation we couldn’t say NO, or reject, and it would be unfair. I go there thinking on somehow continuing with my lentism, without creating the imaginary Carl’s Jr scene.
A well-planned lunch in beautifully arranged room!
The smell of barbecued chicken drummets, kappa, fish curry, mr. Hubbys favorite pork, Thomas chettai’s (my SILs hubby) special beef dishes and other countless dishes.. which any lent follower can consider as the test of times. And there I am a strong willed Christian, who decided to put away all the temptations.

Scene 2
Mr hubby and Thomas chettai, SIL, ammachi, and the lent follower, relaxing on the table overlooking the beautiful garden…
Each filled their plates and me sitting with them, eating like a rabbit… I mean munching only on the veggies
Ammachi: taste this meen curry with kappa. Before I could say NO… it was there in my plate. It was then the Mr.Hubby showed his love on his wife, with his fav’ ham, and in a fraction of a second it was lying beside the salmon.
Thomas chettai: Dint you take the Beef? Taste it. Its good (of course, it will be. I am a fan of thegakothitta kanjirapally achayanmaarude beef fry).Neither did I want him to question his own beef making culinary skill nor did I want the Carl’s Jr imaginary scene to be real here. And if it happens, it’s going to be with 3D effect. So praying for all the sinners and the poor lent followers I had to start from one side… the side of chicken or the side of beef…

I began with the best of intentions, but I am not sure what I'm doing or what I want to be doing…
Its then that I turned to the Lord with some real question?
"Lord, it feels so good to be honest with myself before you. It feels very good to feel your presence in every way..
…in form of love..
…in the form of that beautiful jerkin which you made my husband buy for me from ROSS…
…in the form of gift card, when I really wanted to buy my juke box (or else I would never have got it now)
When you love me so much, do you want me to undergo all these Carl’s Jr scene every time. Do you really mean me to stay away from NV when you yourself did magic on two fish (not tomato curry) and five loaves to feed the multitude. God Understand me and bless me…*humble*

God to me “ I understand you. And don’t try all the icing works which you do on your dad to please me. But I understand you.. I really do. Of course I do understand the mental torture you had when you heard that Mc Donald gave that BigMac offer just after you started the lent. Dear child, eat everything you want to eat. Fasting is in the mind.
Instead do this :
Be happy.. Make others happy…
Avoid any negative thoughts... that’s what I want you to be during the fasting and later".

On my way Home...

Taking a break..

I am taking a break to relax..

May be a break from blogging too.. (but will be back for sure)...

Now I can witness the dewy mornings, the mountains and the long slender bars of cloud that float above it,I can hear the music of rain, see the colour blooming lawns which carry the cooling aura and tangy fragrance of the flowers around..
I can see the moonlight, leaves with diamond dew drops, shadows in still water.
I can relish on the homely, home cultivated healthy food. Mangoes, jack fruits..
This is where I belong..

This is the place where I am myself.. I took this picturesque of my village.. though it could capture only part of the beauty and the serenity it has

-bs-

IIIIITS Irritating!!!

The phone spam in Bangalore is taking pretty good amount of time and I hate it. That’s why its called IIIIITS meaning Increased, Irritating, Invasive, Inconsiderate, Insensitive telephone calls. I get calls from all the important banks. ABN Amro (its in the Hit list and sometimes I feel they get some bonus point if they call me. I get calls every 2 hours from this bank), Citibank, HDFC, HSBC are the most persistent. Its not only them Hutch, country club, Standard Chartered, SBI, ICICI etc are few others.
Of course there is nothing wrong in calling me to recommend a loan or credit card which will benefit me if I am interested. But what if you bug me with the same stuff more than twice a day. Think about my condition when I have several banks that are interested in my welfare. At least I wish they could spare me when I am in roaming network.

1 year back

Caller: ( young sweet voiced girl) .Good afternoon madam, I am calling on behalf of ABN Amro bank.
Me: regarding?
Caller: regarding personal loan maam. We have very low interest rate. Mam, may I know your salary and where you are working?
Me: I answer her and ask her more about that loan scheme.
Caller: She tells me about the new scheme and I patiently listen.
Me: no thanks now. But when I really need one I will think about your bank and its offer.
Caller: But maam, this loan is very good.
Me: (I briefly explain that I don’t have any plan to take any loan now and the call ends peacefully).

Me: *smile*

I am much impressed by the way our banks progress and its customer support.

6 months back

Caller: Good afternoon madam, I am calling on behalf of ABN Amro bank.
This is regarding personal loan maam. We have very low interest rate. (I interrupt her at this point)
Me: No thanks, I am not interested now.
Caller: But why maam?
Me: Because I don't want to. And I would appreciate if you can remove my name from your data base as I am getting many calls. And if I am interested surely I will consider it then.. but not now Thank you. (And I hang the phone)

I feel sick of all those calls from numerous banks offering 'free' / 'conditional free' credit cards and hell lot of loans!

2 months back

Caller: Good afternoon madam, I am calling on behalf of ABN Amro bank.
This is regarding personal loan maam.
Me: (I hang up)
I feel pretty annoyed

NOW

None of these seems to work. And now I try a different one

Caller: Good afternoon madam, I am calling on behalf of ABN Amro bank. This is regarding personal loan maam. We have very low interest rate. Blah blah blah
Me: Is it? May be I would like to know more about your loan
Me: * wicked smile*
Caller: *very happy face* Mam, may I know where you are working?
Me: I am working for Jubilant Biosys. (of course I am jobless now)
Caller: * happy face* can u spell it maam.
Me: very patiently J-U-B-I-L-A-N-T B-I-O-S-Y-S
Caller: Thank you mam. How much is your take home maaaam?
Me: this poor jobless soul take NOTHING.. hey I dint say that
thirty thousand two hundred and fifty three rupees.
Caller: *very very happy face* ok mam. May I know how much loan you are looking for and for what.
Me: I am looking for a loan of 100 rupees to buy a slipper. Does your bank offer that.
Caller: maam, I dint get you. *confused*
Me: I repeat
Caller: madam. You should not waste our time. If you are not interested why don’t you tell that first. *angry*
Me: how may times?? How many times I have to say I am not interested and how many times you have wasted my time.. * again same wicked smile*
Caller:#$%^&*() thank you maam. * very angry*

And this is funny. At least I feel I am repaying them for all the precious time they spend for me. And I feel happy * again that wicked smile once more*

Of course I understand and sympathize those (those who call me) are driven by daily targets to push the product. But remember I am no saint and I got the least patience.

I know some of my friends who pick the call and keep them saying ‘Hello Hello’. The sweet voice from the other side will keep saying hello- Hello for a while till her throat gets dried up and hangup the phone.

I heard about this Do Not Call registries where in once your name and contact number is registered in that this king of people should refrain from calling that number. Here are some of the DNC registries in India for the benfit of those who have seen the nellipalaka* of patience :

ABN Amro: http://mail.abnamrobank.co.in/creditcard/do_not_call_servicemail_cc.asp
HDFC: http://www.hdfc.com/donotcallform.asp
HSBC: https://www.tools.asiapacific.hsbc.com/webform/apply?id=in+donotcall
CitiBank India: http://www.online.citibank.co.in/ngrhtm/custhmdnd.htm
Standard Chartered: https://play.standardchartered.com/smail/in/IN15/index.html
SBI: http://www.sbicard.com/sbi/donotcall.jsp
Canara: http://www.canbankindia.com/personal/card/faircard/faircard-main.htm
ICICI: http://www.inuonline.com/dnc/donotcall.asp

* nellipalaka is a mlayalam word and i don not know how to define it.:)

Defy the Odds

I hate packing bcoz every time I pack, something will be missing, and I will notice that only when I am done with packing. One bag of dress, another of shoes, again another with books and CDs. I was going through the old college books, throwing away lots of paper, when something caught my eyes. Some poems written by my friend Preethy (it should have been written at some class hours probably.. coz that’s when she pondered her mind and at the end of the lecture she used to show me something imaginative and mostly it was poem.) One such poem “DEFY THE ODDS” is lying in my bag. It was written in pencil and almost faded out, but still it was readable. (One of the best poems of home and away, which she wrote for me, is still my favorite. Hopefully I will post it some other time). And here it goes?


Tears of grief spill out
Glances of parting reach out
As your feet carry you away
Carving out a new path

I watch you fade into the night
I feel the pain strike deeply
Your last glance spoke volumes
Spoke for you and for me

The dents your feet left in the snow
Are no longer visible to me
Through a film of tears
I can realize they’ve been erased

Though the years have passed
I still miss your presence
Waiting for you to return
And fill the void in my life

In my heart of hearts, I know
Your coming back is a fantasy
Yet will you defy all the odds
And come back to me?

This is kind of encouragement for her. Because she has started a blog but never posted anything. To break the ice let this be the beginning, Preeths.
-bs-

Dowri: A Modern Outlook

When I hear about arranged proposals and marriage , I think about the dowry too. It is still in place. Its that low class and lower upper class make open deals about dowry where as middle class and upper middle class are too decent to ask dowry. That doesn’t mean dowry doesn’t exist.
If the girl is uneducated, she got to give dowry. (bcoz she dint study. Whether the boy she is going to marry have studied or not is irrelevant). Even if the girl is educated,.. case is not different. This time she needs to give dowry get a good qualified gentlemen, according to her qualification).

Well you cant blame gents either. If he asks dowry, then he is an uncivilized money minded coward. If you don’t ask, then seriously something is wrong with him.
Here I am trying to share two of MY OWN experience I had to face, when I was undergoing the emotional torture of finding the right Guy. I was above the marriageable age (in my family, girls marry before 21). So my marriage has been a talk in the family, and tension of my dad. (I doubt, he started getting more white hairs after they started searching a boy for me).
Just sharing two incidences the first one is when the Boys father, makes an open request for dowry-decently and indirectly.
(Though Below mentioned situations are very true. No offense meant to anyone please)

Scene 1
Place: My homes, to be exact our living room.
Participants: Him (a well qualified professional in Bangalore) and Me
(The elders were too generous and understanding that they wanted us to know each other in the 5 min allowed.cant blame.. what else can they do.. when I cudnt find one on my own)
And awkward silence in the room. I was told that the guy should start the conversation. I wait for him to start. Atlast he said after a long silence
Him:*smile*

Me: *smile*
Him: err…what is your name? (couldn’t hear what he said.)
Me: What?!????!!? (doubting if it’s the problem with my ears or with his voice)
Him: rr…. Your name is Beena, right? (funny. Without knowing you have come all the way traveling 5 hours to meet somebody whose name itself unknown. Maybe it’s the starting trouble)
Me: yes.. and you are XXXX right (hey. C’mon. I too talk blunders)
Him: err…what you doing?
Me: What?!??!!??? (again problem with he volume, forget bass)
Him: *gulp* err…hmmmm….I mean you are working in bangalore right
Me: yes yes.. (great this time I heard him).

Him:^&*()HJ
Me:%^&*()^&
Him: %^&*t6^&… (3 min over)
Him: you want to say something.
Me: *smile* No. (I knew I never want to know him more. 5 min is more than enough)
Him: errr…hmmm…err… well then
Me: *hmmm*

5 min later.
Guys father says bye. He makes sure his car is full with kappa, kaachikka, kurumulaku, elakka, kaappi kuru, ethakka, elakka etc from our land. Neighbour Chedathi was looking as if a long lost relative has come to see us. In the town, where they stay, these kind of things (above mentioned ones) are not good it seems (very true). Since his childhood, he rarely got to see the home cultivated vegetables.
Me: No wonder that’s why you showing this ‘aakrantham”
Hey. I dint say that. But I wished I could.
Guys father continued, “anyway nothing to hide between us now. I had given XXXX lakhs and XXX gold for my daughter. Blah blah blah"
My father: *gulp* err *smiles* err. I am glad my father dint faint
Well it dint work out.. how it can..
* end of scene 1 *

Scene 2

This time it’s not the father who is intelligent, but the son himself. He was trying to figure out how much he can get. (yes.. ofcourse he dint ask it directly)
Place: the same living room with the same furniture.
Participants: Him (this time it’s an IT Guy working in USA. On short leave, who wants to find his soul mate in a week or two) and Me.
Him:Hello?

Me: *smile* ( am used to this one)
Him: Beena, heard you work for Jubilant as a Scientist. That’s good. How’s the job?
Me: *wow*?!?!!? (direct and smart) ya ..Job is good. Infact I got few opportunities in other companies , but I dint want to change for the time being. Good career you see. (what a sweet lier I am)
Him: *smiles* (looked happy) so how do you go to office. By your car or they provide vehicle. I know all girls use two-wheeler still...
Me: *confused on the relevancy of vehicle I use*. No no.. I go by BMTC bus. (Cabs were not provided then. Buying a car was still a dream)
Him: *disappointed face* err…well. Then where do u stay. U have taken your own apartment or..???? ended in an uncertainty.
Me: No, No.. I stay in a hostel. Its very economic. I pay around Rs XXXX/-
Him: *with a very dull face as if he lost in his 10th examination but trying to keep a fake smile * well. Then.. umm. Err.. u na’. So what do you do with the money you earn. Might be investing in some share market or something
Me: What?!?!!??? Savings!!!!
Him: *gulp* err…hmmmm….He was shocked and was looking white as if he had seen a dead body talking.. well, Beena anything else you want to ask..??
Me: No NO.. (I could read his mind).
Him: %4$%^&^&* (He got up. Mother came and talked with him. Dunno how much of his errr…hmmm…err… well then Englishi Malayalam she could get understand)
Him: errr…hmmm…err… well.. aunty, where is the wash room?
Before my mother showed him the wash basin (bcoz she would no way understand his language), I guided him to the right place.

* the end of scene 2 *

Fortunately both didn’t have the chance to proceed.
After all you cant blame anybody. You get the deal; it’s a business for years. After dowry also, he can get incentives every time he visits her house. He doesn’t have to bother about the furniture, house hold items.. Everything done at pocket money given by FIL.
Dowry is a kind of smart business… I say. (but the money stinks)

Anybody against Dowry?

This Gold mine Image from somewhere in the Net.

A Love Story

LOVE .. the word itself got a magical power behind it. Its not rare that we mistake a self-seeking false love for Unconditional Love. I still doubt which is the strongest love in this world. Between mother and kid?? Between lovers?? Between husband and wife?? Between siblings? Between friends??.... still a question if opened for a debate will continue till the world exists..

I was having a discussion about Love with my friends. Its funny how people think of love. Maybe its their experience that gives then those attitudes.. Some of them think love got colors and its their life. I don’t mean the love that’s between lovers.. it can be any love.. it was then that I heard a story about love from a friend of mine. I liked it and I agree with it. (and please friends, don’t take it that I am against love of anything. I am very much in love but somehow I felt there is some hidden truth in the story I heard. After all humans are those who still have the basic animal instinct.) Thought of sharing that Monkey Story with you…

A Story of love that existed between mother monkey and baby money. There happened to be a heavy flood and storm in the mountain where the monkey family lived. The water rose up, and it stormed continously. Even the wise monkeys were frightened by the flood and they decided to go to someother place when the waters covered everything except a tree at the mountain top. But how could the baby monkey who is too small to jump go with them. So the baby monkey and mommy monkey were let alone there. How could a mother ever leave its baby, however worse the case may be?

As the water level started rising, the mommy monkey had to keep the baby monkey on the shoulder. But then it didn’t stop there... I started raining more. The mommy monkey kept the baby monkey on the head, so that it will be safe. But after sometime, the level started rising and the mommy monkey couldn’t do anything to save her baby.. She cried , she struggled and at last she left the baby monkey there and she escaped.

What do u think is the best love in this world in Human relations?
Lets take a Vote…I vote for…umm... Will vote at the end. :)