Flower woes: V-Day

I don't exactly remember when Valentine's Day became a craze in India. Think it was around my late teens. It became a rage all of a sudden. All the pent up love from hormone rush was pouring all round us and there were us – a bewildered bunch, who spectacled this display of amour pretty much the same way cows look at moving traffic (in our country), with a bit of anticipation. Is there a secret admirer? Will I get flowers too? All of it remained a big secret as nobody ever… let's say manned up.

Then I graduated to college and first V – day there became quite a memory. Early morning the Indira block, entrance of our hostel looked like a huge flower shop and then there was a huge life size teddy bear waiting for some lucky girl. There was an explosion of romance in kinds. For us first years mostly coming from conservative families, with little or no exposure to this level of consumerism, it looked nothing less than wonderland. And, there were the excited girls who had come down to receive the flowers. Different tones and decibels of “aaawww”s rang everywhere around. There was jumping and hugging and few tears of joy too. Plans of evening followed — what am I going to wear? How I will do my hair? Which class I will bunk to get makeup done? And so on…

That year we singles formed our 'Lonely hearts' club'. We also planned the night out. First year was fun, as almost whole batch of girls and boys were there. So we did what we always did…. just goofed around. Subsequent years the Lonely hearts club just kept getting lonelier, as many of our patrons found company, our lot dwindled. We kept up with our dining out tradition. Our conversations became confused and thick with emotion. First, how lucky we were to have each other. Second, the couples- latest, cutest,unlikeliest, weirdest, etc… After sometime came resolutions. How we would turn a new leaf, or do a makeover and not land up here again… ever. Then came realization how happy we were being single — no drama, no fights, so much more time to focus on self and our hobbies.And, another round of how lucky we were to have each other… and hope nothing ever comes in between! (please God don't let me be the last one standing)

Phew! It was a relief to cross that date off from calendar.

In my final year, the unexpected happened. I had met my husband (now) just a couple of months before valentines day. He lived in another city, and honestly I didn't think anything serious would happen. I had long stopped going to the hostel entrance to check for flowers. My day passed like any other and I was told around tea time that a bunch of flowers waited at the entrance with my name on it. I brushed it off as prank….but went to check nevertheless. Yes I found the bunch of by-now wilted flower lying with the ones rejected (sent by undesired candidates). By then i was so conditioned to not getting flowers that i couldn't accept the fact. So I spewed venom on the remaining loyalists of lonely hearts club for playing me. It was only later at night when my husband called that I got to know it came from him (I had a hunch). That was my first and last time of getting flowers. I remained permanent member of Lonely Hearts' club, as we went for our traditional dinner out for the last time, before parted onto our different ways.

Indeed Lonely hearts' club holds a very special place. Every year since, on valentines day, I remember this special group with special fondness.

After I found my so-far-permanent valentine, my husband refused to become victim of this “farce ” created to “promote consumerism. “He is not ready to pay more for flowers on valentines day. Don't take me wrong, he isn't a miser…. rather he is quite a spender. But, this is against his rationality and principle. So, I still get flowers but with slight deviation from regular!

And,here is a glimpse of how we do it…

Remind me
Practical love
And then at the traffic signal near inOrbit mall
My cheap valentine...



The Weird Das

In my last post I had mentioned we are a bit weird.

I would like to give you a glimpse of our weirdness.

A normal weekend people like to laze, read or just relax. We do the same only our methods of relaxing are bit different.

My husband grabs on djambe to practice along with my daughter. The hitch here is arr…. he doesn’t quite know how to play. He just slaps or pounds on djambe to create what he thinks is “rhythm”. My daughter plays along, she gets her set of toy maracas and both create enough cacophony to give the original Cacophonix from Asterix serious competition. The quiet and peace is broken enough to give a splitting headache early morning.

Stop them…. you can’t. Can anybody stop the sun from rising….can anyone stop waves from crashing. This is the intensity and passion they attack on the instrument.

Beginning of a glorious day
The das version of cacophonix
Breaking peace
It was absolutely jarring. But they were without any care.How does one curb this pure enthusiasm?…even if it is totally out of sync.
What’s a girl to do when rest of the family seem incorrigible….well joining them seemed most sensible thing to do.They did look happy…So I joined the party too!
Family that goofs together stays together

Together we created the “beginning of civilization” entertainment like how god meant it to be.


the awesaome weird family
The Wierd Das… all three of them

This is my second attempt in blogging!

The first one didn’t quite work….let’s say serious writers’ block. When I had started that one I felt I would just wow the world with my… let’s say superior abilities (yeah….I feel I am grandiose too!!!). then I didn’t have too much to write. I did manage to write a few stuff which was ok but words wouldn’t flow. So I thought of keeping it simple this time around, make fresh start writing what I know best….my sometimes-boring-sometimes-weird-funny life.

Above is my family portrait (sorry…. done by me). You see I love blogs with illustrations in it. I find it endearing so even if I am not a cartoonist or artist I thought of putting it nevertheless. Everytime I make it may turn out to be different depiction, so I have come up with this guide —
Oval face with thick mustache will be my husband.
Round face with mop of curly hair will be me.
Small variable face will be my 5 year old daughter’s…. Oh! Check for long eyelashes. (that’s her concept of depicting girls)

We live as a small nuclear family in a big busy city. Each of us have lot of quirks to fill in the descriptions and I shall do so time to time.

For now I am happy to get started.