Umbrella Tales

How someone's care and devotion for your parents can make you take a tour of the part of city that you never ventured before is amazing!

I was all excited and ready to fly home for a wedding and hence carried a lot of those shimmering and gaudy looking clothes which in no right mind can you imagine wearing anywhere else. My friend calls and informs me that she has a gift for my parents and that I should take it with me. It was a long triangular looking gift wrap and I couldn't imagine what could be in that shape. When I opened it there was this beautiful wooden umbrella which had Paris depicted all over it, very beautiful. But then the length of the umbrella wouldn't go into any of my cases. I decided to carry it in hand and since my husband was coming to drop me, hand it back to him, if the authorities would stop me from taking it.

Montreal airport was a sail through and I carried it with me as cabin luggage. I made a sound mental note that I should not at any cost let go of it and made sure that I had it with me when I got off the craft at London to change flights. I had two precious pieces of luggage with me and do not mistake me for the gold or any other documentation that was carrying. One was my son and the other was the umbrella.

In London however the airport authorities decided that umbrella wasn't much use in-flight and after profusely promising me that they would take good care of it, slipped it off my hand and dropped it for check-in luggage. Since the feeling of missing something in my hand kept reminding me continually that there has to be an umbrella there, I was able to wait for an extra half hour and reclaim it in-spite of it being the early hours of a Chennai morning and my son deeply in need of some rest. It is not an exaggeration that I was clutching the umbrella in one hand and my son in the other till I reached home.

On the day I had to leave for Hyderabad to visit my parents, my son took it upon himself to remind me several times lest I forgot the umbrella in its last leg of journey!!. At the Hyderabad airport I watched the baggage of the entire craft before the fragile items were brought out and I had to go specially claim it, which took an extra 45 minutes of my life but I was glad that I finally got it to where it was intended to be sent!

This momentary relief lapsed my judgment and to oblige to my son's request of allowing myself to be his pillow during the hour and half journey home, I made the terrible mistake of leaving the umbrella in the boot of the car with the rest of the luggage. By the time I reached home, my son was deep asleep and I was holding him while the driver unloaded my luggage. And then I went upstairs, surprised my mother, all greetings and hellos and huggies and the bags opening for gifts and then.....................! Shock, Anger, Irritation ................on myself...How could I do this???????

I FORGOT THE UMBRELLA !!

Not that I am popular for my memory but this one took "the umbrella"!! Then started the frantic calls to the cab company and lucky for me I went in for some registered and expensive cab and dint haggle my way through some "Diamond car service" . Then I realized that apart from the time that I hired the cab, I pretty much dint know anything else, not the driver's name, nor the number on the cab!! But within a few minutes I got a call back and they had managed to trace the driver and get a confirmation that he did indeed have the umbrella.

With my sis-in-law's suggestion, I started yet another long journey to seek it back. Since the cab company's office was conveniently situated at the outskirts of the city we made a long journey viewing the changed city, appreciating it as well as recounting to myself the "good old days". A typical Hyderabadi can never lead to your destination without a couple of " just idhar se right" and "saamneich hai" ...so...after several wrong turns and calls back....finally I broke the code and found the building. As I entered the office, my story seemed to have preceded me and greeted me with a mixed look of amusement and amazement around there. They probably were peeking from behind their tinted doors to see the great samaritan, who had such concern for a missing umbrella......I mean...who does that kinda thing!!

The whole evening I dint let go of the umbrella till I reached home and handed it into my mother's hand with best compliments from my Montreal friend!! :) .. Mission Accomplished!

After hearing through my story my dear friend even offered to pay for all the anxious journeys I made for getting the umbrella back and apologized for being the cause of it, but I wouldn't hear of that because the adventure was - Priceless!!

Moral of the story....NEVER....EVER.... forget to take the cab driver's name and number....unless you particularly enjoy wild goose chases involving Paris pictured umbrellas !! :)

College Love

This is something that will touch everyone in their teens,
whether sporting a jacket or walking in their jeans,
every girl is waiting for her prince charming,
the rate at which this disease is spreading is alarming,
there are some who feel a sense of pride,
there are some who are simply taken for a ride,
they guys are falling for the girls head over heels,
everybody is poetic is telling the way he or she feels,
the intelligent put it down as a passing phase,
but deep inside , everyone wants to be a part of the race,

At the party,
the girl without a date will feel out of place,
the guy without a girl will want to hide his face,
this is a never ending saga of college love,
people keep falling in and out of it , don't ask me how!!

Walls

Every morning when I get up, I face them.
when I am angry or sad , I hit my fists on them,
they have been with me all the years,
though they are dumb, they are all ears,
they are the mute witnesses of those moments,
of those emotions of joys and laments,
standing mightily around me, they give me a sense of security,
they give the place I live, a picture of grace and sanctity,
they say a house is not made of bricks and walls,
but its among these that every night the family rests,
they stand high and strong like the man's pride,
from one kind to another, a woman walks into as a new bride,
start talking to them and people will call you insane,
never do they complain , decorate them or leave them plain,
a vital part of human existence,
talk about past, present or any tense!

Unhappy India

Then written was the " Unhappy India",
So called due to its subjection,
Subjection to the unpowered divinities,
Unhappy , but atleast alive was our mother,
Hope for freedom was enuf for her to breathe,
Her beliefs on her dreams made her strong,
They said they were one and fighting for her cause,
they said they lived and died for her,
As then, death was less painful and more endearing,
Today I write my Unhappy India,
about the battered India, the shattered India, the stranger India,
Then India was sick, today she is half dead,
Her sons are tearing her to pieces , draping her with blood,
sickening is the look of the people,
Who are directors behind the drama of life,
Mad is the way people fight with their for no cause,
was this the vision of a Mahatma, a Swami, a Nehru?
And all the builders of this nation,
Is this the country that I have read about , felt proud about ?
Should the young of tomorrow inherit this Unhappy India or that?

Freedom

Like a lot of teenagers, naivety was what I could vouch as one of my better known virtues. In other words I thought a lot about myself, felt I was smart , that I had an intelligent and smart way of handling any questions that sprang in front of me etc.

I remember when I was graduating, the farewell party had several rounds of intellectually challenging and socially stimulating tasks to choose the most popular students of the year. As far as I was concerned we all knew more or less who would get the crown but the juniors who organized the event gave us one other chance to prove that we were not anywhere in the run. So, for the final round question was "How do u define Women's lib or freedom for women " something with that tone. My answer for which I kick myself even today - I am a model of a free woman or an embarrassing equivalent. And then I spent the rest of my life figuring out that I was not as free as I had thought myself to be.

People around me have managed to convince me that they care for me so much that they would hate to see me in trouble and so have decided to make me answerable for everything I do lest I do it wrong. It has comfortably grown into my psyche that I make mistakes and these people can watch out for me and see that I don't. And to do justice to them I have had my share of proofs by belonging to the minority of the humans race who does not get a four wheeler drivers license on the first test, loosing my purse full of important documents, smashing the rear end of the car inside the garage and the list can go on. And as more and more people hinted me that I was not as good as I thought I was and that they had to be around to help me handle everything, it was easy to convince myself too.

One fine day my husband bought a bicycle which he decided was for me. My fear started the moment he said I was to try it while he was at office. My dilemma was whether it was better that I try it while he was there and prove it to him yet again that I cant remember an exercise which has been scientifically proven that humans once learned, cannot forget? or fall in front of strangers and embarrass myself? For a while I tried near the door, holding the wall and was not sure I could balance myself....

No marks for guessing it right. Yes...!! I took the latter option. Got up from the couch, got dressed with a sense of purpose, walked the bicycle to the car park, waited for a handy man to get into his car, while posing as though I was checking the air in the tires. Then took a deep breath and off I went, I wobbled , made three false starts and then I was go....go...gone...Took a round inside the block...Then my old fear came back and I thought may be I cant do it another time, got off the bicycle and started again....and I was so comfortable and felt so free...the feeling of being able to do anything, go anywhere. It was awesome...

The thought that crossed my mind was if someone asked me what was freedom then, I was sure I could answer it better this time around!

To do or not to do

I have been accused of many things by friends and foes alike, but thinking is not one of them. The problem has been on the other side.....too much thinking.....

I have been told not to think too much....which I reason to myself saying as not possible.... The result - quite easy to analyse - due to the extreme confidence in the absolutely normal and otherwise common intellect , I land up creating situations that seemed to have had the perfect ability to solve by themselves, if it wasn't for my timely and absolutely unwarranted involvement!!!

My friends are probably telling me their issues for lack of a better listener and do not wish for my involvement as a part of their solutions. I must assure that it is not due to the lack of understanding or will power that I decide to react to what ever I hear , but a sincere hope and belief that I may be able to say or do something to help.

I have always believed that when we want something and want it for real, as though our life depended on it, everything around us conspires to get that done. And I must say I humbly consider myself as that catalyst that needs to trigger these pieces of puzzle to fall in place.

But I seem to stand on a crossroad of sorts whenever such a situation comes up in front, which I might add is quite often. I always have to stand and think if my friends and family for whom I am attempting to do this are going to like it or not. Will they understand my intentions??? My answer to myself is - Yes they will but they still would not appreciate my "Interference".. However the fact remains that this fear has its limits set at the failure of the whole exercise...Thats when there is a big chance of loosing these beloved people.

If your luck favors and you can manage the situation to the benefit of the aggrieved then, you become a hero, a life savior, a lucky charm, fairy god mother and all other synonyms that suit a successful profile.

Every time I get myself in the middle of such a predicament , my prayers are honestly for myself so that I can save my back side and my friendships and when God decides to help me, he usually is solving the issues in totality. I cant say I am not glad at that point, but the fear of failures scares me lot more because the loss will be greater in terms of loosing trusted people.

But nevertheless, though hard as I have tried, I cant seem to be learning from all the tension or failure that I experience every time and keep returning to the cross roads thinking - TO DO or NOT TO DO!!!!

Joshi Rail Museum

My Son's summer holidays have made me a thinking pot always trying different methods to keep him engaged to avoid major damages to the household decorations or dents to the kitchen utensils, which are his ultimate source of entertainment when he decided he has enough with his toys and books.

For a long time I have been using that road but never occured to me to find out more and go there. The place is simply called the Joshi Rail museum and sometimes miniature Rail Museum. So Saturday evening was the time we chose to explore it.

I must say I wasnt half as ready to see what came next once I went up the rickety old steps which leads you to a corridor which is lined on one side with an old railway compartment and on the other side with a pair of old double doors, which lead to the 'show'.

By the time we reached there, it was a couple of minutes when the show had started , and we stealthily crept in. What do I see....There is a huge circular board, which almost filled the room with elaboratly done up terrains, rail tracks and a number of trains (miniatures ofcourse!!). There were some stands surrounding this board where many exited kids and parents like me were standing with their mouths hanging down and starry twinkles in their eyes seeing the marvel in front of them.

An anchor in voice over was telling the whole thing like a story and including the stories of trains in between. While he would do that, that particular train would move and the kids would be thrilled. Similarly there was an express highway and the car and various other vehicles on it would move, then there was a circus and its whole tent was lifted and a miniture rink could be seen with the trapeze artists and animals. But the icing on the cake was when the whole board could be revoled and even the parents started clapping.....It was amazing...simply superb...

I was wondering about the person who collected all these with such passion and got them to be presented in this show. There were trains everywhere. The show, the decorations, the models and toys they sold ....just transported me back to being a kid and enjoying all this with the same gusto..