Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Parlour Spotting

I spent an unusually long time at the beauty parlour (salon sounds too posh) yesterday and realised that mothers still accompany their daughters to 'supervise' the haircut. I saw at least four moms with their daughters. One pair was actually having fun getting head massages and manicures together and finally made me realise that Cosmo, Femina, Good Housekeeping and Elle weren't lying in all those perdicure bonding stories.

It's the other three I'm talking about. They stood behind the hairstylist watching how the work was being done. One had a deep, long discussion with the stylist before the process began, insisted that her daughter's hair was not be washed and then proceeded to park herself on the stylist's toe. Well, almost. I was getting a great head massage by now but could hear her instructions: Not so short, it's not equal there, etc. Wonder how the girl doing the job kept a cool head.

Most of the daughters looked at least 18. Made me wonder why did they need to come to the parlour under mom's watchful eye. Was mom scared that dotty dearest would go in for spiked, jagged edges and colour her hair purple? Or go the bald route?
Well, there's nothing in it probably but it did strike me as strange.

Also spotted in the parlour loo: flush used only for flushing

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

The Mental Judge

Before Poppin thinks I'm the rudest person on earth, let me do this tag because I'm very lazy about these things usually :)

First I'm wondering if I'm judgemental. I'd like to believe I'm not but hey...it's a vice that's difficult to escape. That said and done, who knows, at times I may be guilty of the things I say here :)

1. I'm judgemental about people who don't give you a choice or don't respect yours. That holds true for terribly religious people who expect you to fast on Tuesdays and visit the temple every week just because they do; vegetarians who shudder when you mouth the word 'fish,' non-vegetarians who wonder how people survive eating 'just sabji'; married friends who loudly wonder why a certain friend is choosing not to get hitched...the list can go on..but anyway you get the drift.

2. These days I'm a bit judgemental about supermoms. There are so many of them around that it's pretty scary to know that I am the average type and use absolutely un-earth motherly things like diapers and baby wipes (in the past as ha ha at home we are on the training route). I'm actually a complete gone case as I used to feed the Monkey Gerber babyfood (comes in bottles, pureed and is bahar ka packaged khana for the uninitiated) in his first year whenever we travelled. I'm also not averse to chocolates and chips and not a fanatic follower of homeopathy.

3. I judge people who show off, although it's the subtler variety I'm talking about. The kind who immediately tell you they prefer to drive the zen because of Bangalore's traffic though the Honda Civic is such a smooth drive. They aren't talking about traffic or driving here baby of course. Trust me, I know the kind.

4. I judge people who don't read. Yes I know I shouldn't and by that logic I shouldn't have married the husband but he did read newspapers and India Today and that's at least something, isn't it? I'm talking of people who consider books a waste of money. I once overheard a mom at Khan Market's Bahrisons telling her teenage daughter: Ab itne hi paise kharchne hai to koi dress ya shoe le le.

5. I judge people who constantly give advice. About everything from going to a particular shop to visiting their gyanec who's the best in the world to making the gravy in a particular way because that's how they do it and of course it's the done thing in the world.

6. And last one. I judge people who don't like doing something on their own. Whether it's shopping or sitting in a Barista for a cup of coffee or having a meal in a restaurant, travelling alone with a baby...several things. I agree having company is an exciting prospect but when someone says they are uncomfortable sitting and having a meal on their own in a restaurant I tend to think they are either uncomfortable with themselves or too worried about who'll think what or too timid. As for the travelling alone with baby, I'm sorry to say this but I've met a lot of shrinking violets (excooz the phrase) who cannot stomach the thought of going from Bombay to Delhi or Bangalore to Kolkata or even Bangalore to Chennai with a small child unless accompanied by husband. Why sweetie? Is the husband an on-road child sedative?

Ok can't think anymore. And I sound absolutely fanatic in that list above. But who cares. It's a license to judge, after all.

Monday, July 23, 2007

Temple Trip

Like good children we took the parents on a temple trip over the weekend. They went for the darshan, we went for the art, the monkey went for the usual, i.e., climbing up and down stairs, which were in abundance everywhere and muttering 'Habelidd' and 'mangola', Halebid and Sravanbelgola in adultspeak.

Channakeshava temple in Belur was amazing. Everything from its vast courtyard, to the unbelievably detailed carvings was breathtaking.




We stayed back for the evening arati and it was quite a performance with music, bells and chants. The monkey did an impromptu balle balle much to the amusement of some and irritation of others.

We stayed for a long time, sitting in the courtyard, watching devotees pour in and out, families enjoying the evening breeze, an old priest walking back to his quarter.

It was like a beautiful park, a place to come, relax and take in the atmosphere. With an aura of history, reverence and unparalleled art.

...and this is the view after huffing and gasping halfway up Sravanbelagola. Trust me, unless you are the devoted kind, the view is the only thing worth the climb :)



Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Pottering around...

Monday, July 09, 2007

Sounding off

These days my home is alive with the sounds of teevee. It starts at 8 in the morning with Tiny TV on Pogo. Usually Kipper the Dog, followed at times by Noddy. Being the horrid mom that I am, I'd be thankful if the monkey sat through these wobbly wonders for a whole hour but as it turns out, he watches anything for barely 15 minutes before trooping off to do his thing.
The TV however stays on, as the monkey's dadu -- my husband's dad and self confessed TV addict is here. As it turns out, he's becoming quite an expert on Noddy and gang.
There is an hour or two's respite around 10ish, when 'dadu' gets busy with Sudoku, Crossword and suchlike but he's been blessed with a quick thinking brain and these things get solved too fast. Soon enough I can hear the unmistakable strains of Anil Kapoor hamming, Dharmendra shouting or Rakhi repeating one dialogue three times.*
At some point my mother-in-law finally wins the battle of the remote and sits down for some soapy stuff, thankfully at a lower volume. But such joys are short lived (and sudokus not complex enough) and the TV goes back to Rakhi and gang, at a volume to beat Aerosmith live.
Some Pogo comes on in snatches and sometimes I do laugh at Jaaved Jafri's commentary for Takeshi's Castle but usually by this time I'm too zonked out to care. Which is a good thing because in the evening all our television manages to do is stay stuck on the face of some CNBC/NDTV Profit presenter while the suspiciously named sensex plunges up and down.

* After sitting through (in an earlier life) and hearing through (in this life) several sessions of Rakhi's trials and tribulations as a mother, I cannot but sympathise with the woman. The woman is just given one role to play! Dead husband, white sari, vacant-eyed look, slightly slurring Bong accented Hindi, constant visits to Shiv temple and having to repeat the same dialogues, not once, but thrice...Tujhe tyag karna hoga...tyaag, tyaag, tyaag/Mere Karan Arjun Ayenge...Karan Arjun Ayenge...Ayenge....