Nandi Hills

I’m pretty sure, that the first place that comes to any Bangalorean’s mind when thinking of a day trip is Nandi Hills. It’s a place I’ve visited innumerable times, but still doesn’t fail to catch my interest every time. There’s just that one view or that one tree that’ll catch my fancy and make it yet another special visit.

I remember the first time I went was with my parents, siblings, and a bunch of cousins and uncles and aunts. I was in middle school then and the archeology bug had bitten me bad. Nandi Hills seemed full of possibilities. I knew it had something to do with Tipu Sultan, and he used to push his enemy soldiers off the rocky cliff there, but that was just about it. Once there, I saw the very old temple there, and I was fascinated. I roped in my cousin into my plot to analyze the secrets of the temple. We went about collecting pebbles strewn around the temple, in the hopes of “analyzing” them once we got home. I think we even tried to pry off a piece of stone or two from the pillars just outside the temple, but got scolded by my extremely perplexed dad. I prefer to block that part out of my mind. Nevertheless, we still had a plastic bag full of stones. That night we reached my house and immediately proceeded to wash the pebbles and scrub the dirt vigorously out of it in the hopes of finding some inscription or other. Nothing emerged, so we gave up. I vaguely remember the bag full of extremely clean pebbles lying around at home for a few days, then grandpa spotted it and threw it away after a lot of grumbling about wayward grandchildren who filled the house with dirt.

Anyway, after that trip I have been to Nandi Hills several more times. With family, with friends… and every time it has been interesting.

This time it was no different. Not to worry, there was no archeology involved, and I didn’t collect any rocks this time. It was the gorgeous clouds, trees, dew-soaked leaves and grass that caught my eye.

Aren’t the clouds absolutely gorgeous? All brilliant blue sky and fluffy white clouds suddenly turning into badass grey and further into menacing black…

The (in)famous temple seemed to be blending into the sky.

This monkey jumped on to the roof of our car as soon as we parked. It had a packet of food which it began to eat. We were amused at first at its antics, especially the kids. But when we came back from our wanderings we saw it had left its poop all over the windshield. Ugh. Bad monkey.

Just a sample of the plants that I found interesting. Look how green and soft that grass looks!

That wild, untameable hair! It was really windy up there.

I thought these iron grills looked very pretty!

That’s about most of us…

I really loved these colourful benches. They weren’t here the last time I visited.

Oh these trees! So beautiful, graceful. Despite, or maybe because, they’re so old and gnarled, and moss covered.

I HAVE to talk about this dahi vada we had at the restaurant just before turning off the highway. It was yumm!

Dark is the night

 

When it's all darkness and gloom,

and the worms and the gnomes

are dreading of their doom;

When shadows call

and  stars
       

        
                       
                        fall

That's when all

thoughts
come to
noughts. 

Losin’ it

Randy Brandy,

Fancied himself a Dandy.

His dad realized he’s Handy,

And set him up to wrap Candy.

Love for me is…

…this.

Teehee

The picture on my phone lock screen. Always makes me laugh! 😁

Am I weird, or am I wired?

So I was washing my face today, and like I’m sure everyone else does, whether weird or no, I had closed my eyes. And because my eyes didn’t have anything to do, my mind kicked into action, and I started thinking about how my face looked, and where the latest blemish is, etc. Then I tried to visualize my face, and in my mind I saw this face. In my mind, this was supposed to be my face. MINE! (Well actually, she’s a model, a celebrity cook, and she recently appeared in MasterChef Australia and cooked a yummy, fab cake, so probably my mind was trying to tell me something…) Anyway, my mind actually thinks this is what my face looks like.

And then, whenever I’m not humming or talking or eating, or thinking, I’m constantly saying “agar agar” in my head. (I recently heard that on MasterChef, and I can’t get it out of my head now. I actually think there’s too much MasterChef viewing in this house.) Anyhow, I reaally like the sound of it. You can try it yourself. Try saying “agar agar” in different tones. Not aloud, just in your head. Say it like you would say the letter ‘a’ while reciting the alphabet. Then gar. With a short a. Then say it again while draaagging the second ‘a’. ‘a-gaaaaar a-gaaaaar’. Then again, agarrrrr agarrrrr.’ ‘aaaagah aaaagah.’ ‘agaaah agaaah.’ etc. It’s a silent stress buster. Therapeutic. It’s silences your mind. Trust me.

In other news, my sister thinks if I have to be a tree, I’ll have to be a bonsai of a bonsai. (This coming from someone who’s about an inch and a half taller than me.) (I’m guessing she’ll just be a bonsai then.) So I’ll be Bonsai Bonsai and she’ll be Bonsai. Nice.

Wonder what kind of a tree I’ll be though. I’d really really love to be an Ashwatha tree, because that’s my most favorite tree in the whooole world, but I’m afraid it won’t really be in my hands, would it. Things like this are usually predestined, and I’ll just have to be whatever tree I’m assigned to be, I guess. (I really would love to be an Ashwatha tree though. My beautiful heart-shaped leaves swaying and dancing in the tiniest of breezes, little kids plucking my leaves to dry them between books, little known artists creating Krishna and Ganesha paintings on my dried leaves…)

I think as a reward, I’ve been blessed with an equally weird offspring. The other day, in a too-much-love-pouring-out-of-Mother-India moment, I bit her chubby soft cheeks and said, “I sure don’t want any artificial marshmallows. This marshmallow is enough for me for a lifetime. I’ll toast it nice and brown, put it into a bigggg mug of hot chocolate and drink it all up.” She thinks about it for a while, puts on her eww-that’s-disgusting face and says, “Amma, you don’t want to toast my cheeks. The brown parts of a toasted marshmallow is not nice. Very bitter. Yuck. You should eat it raw raw. That way you’ll get all of my cheeks.”

So.

Waiting room angst

Waiting waiting
So boring
When will the doc be coming?
Being this late is not him becoming
Patients are all so impatient getting
Long line rapidly build upping
If all of them be in huff off stalking
Doc’s business is to hell be going.
Sigh.
ing.

Note to Myself

Write everyday.Write everyday. Write everyday. Write everyday. Write everyday. Write everyday. Write everyday. Write everyday. Write everyday. Write everyday. Write everyday. Write everyday. Write everyday. Write everyday. Write everyday. Write everyday. Write everyday. Write everyday. Write everyday. Write everyday. Write everyday. Write everyday.

It’s not enough if you compose posts in your head and smugly think, “Oh, I’ll remember it when I’ve turned on the laptop, when I finish washing the dishes, when I come back from shopping, when this earthquake is done with or when the sky lifts itself up again.” Write when you have a post in your head. You are not 20 anymore that you have a photographic memory.

Write!

Tum tum te tum…

Oh the things I would do
If my tummy was flat!
I would wear my tees
And hide them keys.
I would eat lots chips
And shake my hips.
I would shimmy and wiggle
Without having my tum a-jiggle.
I’d pull on my low-waist jeans
And beat all my ill-fated genes!
I’d drink me some ale
And have those tales to regale.
I’d whine about my hair instead
And then go shampoo my head.
Oh all the things I would do
If only my tummy would just bid adieu!

Where Bataany slept by herself! Gasp!

“Amma, I’m going to sleep in ajji’s room with S tonight,” Bataany announced at dinnertime. “Yeah, right!” the Cruella de Vila mom in me whispered. Outwardly nonchalant, I said “Yeah of course! You both ought to do that. Such fun!”

“Let’s see how many minutes she lasts there,” I sniggered to A. And we both sniggered some more.

Time for bed. The mattresses were laid, pillows and blankets gathered from the room, soft toys arranged, and the three cousins proceeded to jump and laugh and horse around. Which went on and on and on. Finally the littlest one went off to bed with her parents and I warned the other two: “You both better go to sleep right away. I’m sleeping now. Don’t come running to me later to put you to bed!” Which obviously fell into deaf ears.

So I went to my room, closed the door, lay down on the bed, and waited. And waited. And waited. Finally the door opened. Yay! “Amma, I forgot to say goodnight to you! Goodnight amma! Goodnight bed! Goodnight cupboard! Goodnight stickers!” and off she ran out, as fast as she had come in.

“Better keep the door unlocked tonight. She’ll come running again in no time. Hehe,” we thought. And then I waited again. And waited. How could I sleep without her sturdy slim little legs on my tummy? Or her little fists under my neck? Or the perfume of her curls in my nose, or the softness of her cheeks against mine? And I slowly drifted off to sleep, still secretly hoping she WILL come running to amma.

In the morning, there was no Bataany next to me, and the door was still closed. Did that mean she slept without her amma’s lullabies? Without me patting her? Nooo it’s too early for her to do that, she’s still too young! I can’t let go of her yet! Has my baby flown the nest? Gasp!! Does that mean she doesn’t need me anymore? Have I become redundant??

Melodrama done with, I go to ajji’s room to check on the girls. How peaceful she looked, long lashes resting on her perfect round cheeks. With the elephant sitting next to her. And then I sat there sniffling next to her and watched her breathe in and out, and I couldn’t help but wonder if this was it. Did she discover the sweet taste of independence?