tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86568064447995643712012-02-06T18:49:36.712-05:00A rather irreverent blog on random topicsSujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.comBlogger2601100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-85841963105282263672012-02-04T07:53:00.001-05:002012-02-04T07:55:24.862-05:00

I  admit that I was the first in my family to abandon the sari. As a teen, the salwar-kameez that was just coming into vogue seemed much more practical, less restrictive and freeing. Even to the point of ditching the dupatta/chunni that was de rigueur for modesty/warmth in North India. I would happily go around in various salwar-kameez combinations, ignoring the piles of saris that got added to

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-51592562884828755902012-01-10T17:26:00.003-05:002012-01-10T17:45:16.454-05:00

A rather belated set of New Year Wishes to all my readers for 2012! I have just returned from a short dash to India and back to visit my family. These kinds of trips are always sagas in themselves, even if the duration has been shortened from the months needed for ship voyages to just hours on planes. I traveled on one of the few airlines where you were not assaulted with Christmas music over

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-56671330281617005462011-12-21T06:39:00.001-05:002011-12-23T15:39:07.532-05:00

I was once a princess, though seeing me now, you would never think it possible. The young girl who comes to help feed and clean me shows no signs of revulsion as she gently wipes my wrinkled face and toothless gums. The light that comes in through the tiny window is barely enough for her to see by, and yet she never misses a spot. Oh, to be young once more! I doze as I wait for the next bowl of

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-54752019451408594532011-12-13T06:41:00.000-05:002011-12-14T06:43:15.189-05:00

Swedish author Henning Mankell (of 'Wallander' fame) posits in the New York Times that better than calling our species Homo sapiens would be to call us  Homo narrans, or Man the Storyteller. "It struck me as I listened to those two men that a truer nomination for our species than Homo sapiens might be Homo narrans, the storytelling person. What differentiates us from animals is the fact that

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-47234098115796876022011-12-10T07:40:00.001-05:002011-12-10T08:04:58.158-05:00

 They have been unfairly maligned, as I write in this cross post on Accidental Blogger. That said, I will still jump on top of the nearest chair, should a rat be running around the room. Old associations die hard, and my memory of waking up in my grandmother's village house to see  a rat scampering away from near my toes, still overrides any rational concept that may have the backing of a

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-46518337351621636202011-12-08T06:23:00.001-05:002011-12-23T17:05:29.348-05:00

It's been ages since I had my eyebrows threaded. Actually, it's been three years, but I just woke up to the fact that all other Indian ladies of my acquaintance had a soigné look that comes from well-defined eyebrows, while I didn't. Last weekend, on a rare trip to the mall, I walked past the 'Miracle Eyebrow' store, new in its location. A lone lady sat hidden behind the counter, a couple of

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-70436353249847868112011-11-26T08:41:00.001-05:002011-12-12T18:25:15.316-05:00

If you frequent any of the Indian news websites, you will be convinced by now that Anirudh Ravichander is the next A.R (Rahman??) in the making, and Dhanush the next Bobby Dylan, or some such thing. Their Youtube promo " Why this Kolaveri di" for the movie '3' has taken on cult status with the views now standing at 5.7 million and counting. It has spawned imitations as well, with this '

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-52266583700590545872011-11-20T16:48:00.001-05:002012-01-10T17:43:01.968-05:00

I had been asked to read out another blogger's Tamil translation of songs  from Tagore's Gitanjali for a dance performance. After examining the translations, I found them to be intensely dissatisfying, giving me the same feeling of irritation that I had as a teen,  when going through most of the English Gitanjali, barring a few poems. Tagore had tailored his English translations, softening some

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-85704266240874198932011-11-13T10:43:00.001-05:002011-11-14T21:17:13.318-05:00

M has reached the age where she questions every film made based on a book. I have often thought that with the current pressures of modern life and constant exposure to electronic media, that the visual grammar of films would make for an easier introduction to some of the much loved books in my library. Case in point, the Jeeves and Wooster stories of P.G. Wodehouse. I randomly happened on the BBC

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-40296577832969286232011-11-09T17:01:00.003-05:002011-11-09T17:03:46.309-05:00

Yesterday, I thought of Kochuthresiamma. It had been a long while since I saw any updates to her blog. The last comment on her most recent post was an anxious inquiry as to why no new posts from her. I checked on her personal blog page, and there on Oct 22 was a Thank you to another well-wisher. No details were there, but I had an uneasy feeling about it. Kochuthresiamma P.J. (aka Molly) of

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-2033538212503502912011-10-29T07:44:00.001-04:002011-10-29T08:04:45.055-04:00

It's just as well that I moved the jasmine indoors last night. This morning I peered outside the window to see the world rimed with a layer of snow. Snow on the unraked leaves, snow on the deck planks, snow on the rhododendrons, on the cauliflower chrysanthemums that sat so cheerily outside the front door. Our large yellow maple still has a nearly full head of leaves, waiting for the next

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-78367556519485719432011-10-19T17:05:00.000-04:002011-10-19T17:05:31.945-04:00

A whole sentence in a Tamil word, that I can still quote by heart after all these years: "ஆதி அந்தமில்லாத கால வெள்ளத்தில் கற்பனை ஓடத்தில் ஏறி நம்முடன் சிறிது நேரம் பிரயாணம் செய்யுமாறு நேயர்களை அழைக்கிறோம். " Loosely translated, it means "In the flowing waters of Time, without beginning or end, in the boat of Imagination, we ask our readers to travel with us for a little while." That was

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-74203153416117903652011-09-25T10:54:00.000-04:002011-09-25T10:54:08.696-04:00

Cross posted from Accidental Blogger

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-77412036410364400532011-09-10T08:01:00.000-04:002011-10-10T07:05:09.599-04:00

Leena lovingly fingered the book that she had found in the bookstore after much searching: An English translation of Ashapurna Debi's "Prothom Pratishruti", or 'The First Promise". Finally, a chance to read a book that had haunted her all these years, not because she had read it, but because she hadn't. Those were the days in college, when her closest friend Priya had handed her a book to read,

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-183507008464275292011-08-28T22:28:00.002-04:002011-08-29T06:26:15.079-04:00

Today, driving past the burnt out debris of the previous months, the land had been gently levelled. No more police tape, no more rusting hulk of Lexus. Just two deer browsing delicately on wildflowers at the edge of the lot. I was returning from a funeral, the first that I have attended in years. The lady had lost a several-years-long battle against cancer. She was the mother of a girl whose

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-77067845151668302552011-08-21T11:02:00.003-04:002011-08-21T11:08:53.114-04:00

Life is fragile. On Friday, I drove home through a terrible thunderstorm, so bad that I could barely see the road ahead.The wipers struggled in valiant and futile rhythm against the windshield. I stopped for milk at the drugstore near my home, with ominous clouds looming over it, only to get soaked as I ran to the safety of my car. The car was not a haven for several people that same day. Flash

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-8578981879372879222011-08-14T10:59:00.000-04:002011-08-14T10:59:11.541-04:00

Cross-posted at Accidental Blogger.

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-18642448820052076192011-07-05T20:23:00.002-04:002011-07-05T20:23:54.266-04:00

My post up on Accidental Blogger.

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-56475522747626174612011-05-25T19:14:00.005-04:002011-05-26T06:27:18.690-04:00

The trucks and trailers rolled up our road in the early hours of the morning. A prominent 'Road Closed' sign went up at the fork, with a markered 'AHEAD' . Driving back from work one day, I drove down past the Road Closed AHEAD, nevertheless. A block down, a uniformed security guard stood right next to another Road Closed sign. I had to turn around on one of the side roads. Determined, I turned

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-81407619362135596792011-05-07T09:33:00.001-04:002011-05-07T09:34:44.098-04:00

"When does a city turn into a Metropolis? When nobody asks you where you came from, nor where you are going." There are many kinds of anonymity, but the kind that comes from living in a Big, Very Large, Humongous City is a unique variety. It allows you to blend into the crowd, while still remaining your own person. with your own little idiosyncrasies and crazinesses. It offers you myriad chances

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-62898059128438266882011-04-08T15:16:00.003-04:002011-04-08T21:06:00.974-04:00

(A continuation of my long-neglected series of posts) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Suji was quite thrilled. She hadn't expected it in the least, that Amma would allow her to finally go on a whole 2-day tour with her class. She had never been away from her family before. But now the big adventure loomed ahead, a trip to a farmhouse a few hours

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-18505400012510134582011-04-04T16:58:00.001-04:002011-04-04T17:00:06.951-04:00

S's axiom:"If they tell you that it's healthy, it will definitely taste terrible. If they tell you that it's junk, it's gonna be tasty.' One marketing company decided to take the idea that health food ought to be marketed as junk food to the bank when approached by a Carrot Mega-processing firm to design an ad campaign to sell more of their carrots. "Farhang and his colleagues unveiled

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-62948638665857757082011-03-22T16:20:00.003-04:002011-03-22T16:30:08.506-04:00

 I've just realized that rather than encouraging my kids to turn off the TV every time, I should be encouraging them to turn it on. How else will my teen deal with essay questions like this on the SAT? - "“How authentic can these shows be when producers design challenges for the participants and then editors alter filmed scenes?” S- "I didn't know what to make of the question- I don't watch any

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-70887521602342427382011-03-03T16:46:00.002-05:002011-03-03T16:52:03.306-05:00

A brief tangential discussion in the comments on this piece by Omar Ali at Accidental Blogger reminded me of my college days. The year was 1987, and I had just started off in my engineering college. I was becoming rather well-known for singing light/filmi music at various college events and was asked if I would like to participate in a 3-day workshop for prospective members of a new Kerala

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-50196628929282784372011-02-23T17:18:00.002-05:002011-02-23T17:25:44.412-05:00

It never fails. After a winter with several hyperventilating newscasters gushing over the Mother of All Snowstorms, which ends up just being just extra heavy rainfall, and  legions of anxious Pittsburghers look like nitwits for having believed all the hype and ransacked the nearest grocery stores for bread, milk and toilet paper. A big one strikes without warning or fanfare. Monday's snowfall

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-92043748245449358922011-02-09T15:56:00.005-05:002011-02-09T16:01:22.612-05:00

M had her ' laundry assignment' from school a couple of weeks ago. Their Home Economics (or whatever is the current PC term) teacher sent them home with printed notes on how to sort their clothes by color, put them in appropriate load sizes in the washer, selecting water temperatures and wash cycles, detergents, etc. I promptly ignored the whole thing and taught her my method. Sort into two piles

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-92154236287628696472011-02-01T18:07:00.001-05:002011-02-01T18:10:47.243-05:00

With the kids sitting right beside you, of course. It's an experience not to be missed. We are huge costume drama fans here (i.e. M, S and me. My husband isn't so enthusiastic.), and we never miss the Masterpiece Classics on PBS, having run the gamut from Jane Austen to Charles Dickens to  the current craze : the brand-new Downton Abbey. Set in the years preceding World War I, it showcases the

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-86853482324166429902011-01-29T16:59:00.002-05:002011-01-29T17:01:58.806-05:00

This one comes with another little story. I had been sifting through some online music service, looking for more Rabindrasangeet songs by Suchitra Mitra, but chanced upon this one by Kavita Krishnamurthy. I was initially put off, wondering at why they chose to tune it to a typically South Indian raga, until I chanced upon this earlier rendition by  Kanika Banerji and realized that Tagore had

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-37398187986024572552011-01-22T14:12:00.001-05:002011-01-22T14:16:06.846-05:00

One of my mother's first blog entries was this reminiscent article about how we acquired our pet parrot Sankaran. My sister, as a kid, wrote a little story based on an imagined conversation between Sankaran and a wild parrot outside, that was published several years ago in a popular children's magazine. Today, as I flipped aimlessly through the offerings of an online digital library, I came

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-42890990453315763532011-01-15T14:24:00.000-05:002011-01-15T14:24:01.111-05:00

Happy New Year 2011 (and yes, I know it's already 2 weeks into the New Year.) And, Happy Pongal, to those who celebrate it. I've been wishing all my near and dear ones a Happy Pongal every time that I pick up the phone in the last couple of days. To what purpose ? I wonder. Does Pongal mean the same to me as it did when I was a kid travelling to the village with my parents, staying up in the

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-7493807566871252842010-12-27T07:14:00.000-05:002010-12-27T07:14:44.964-05:00

If you haven't been to one, this is the kind where there are about 300 kids on the stage, all anxiously blowing their trumpets or clutching their violins, wailing or screeching with the desperate teacher at the piano in front as he valiantly tries to cover the lack of tune and synchrony. The parking lot is always an ocean of cars with all the relatives come to see their favorite nieces or

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-38807155403829770842010-12-23T09:37:00.002-05:002010-12-23T09:40:05.253-05:00

(Just one of those snippets of memory that popped up, after reading Kochuthresiamma's ruminations on Mallus and Bongs...) We lived in a tiny complex of 4 flats, on a side road branching off one of the main thoroughfares.  Ours was on the second floor (or first floor, take your pick, if you prefer to call the lower floor the ground floor.) We were one of two families initially, the flat below

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-68664827269660545102010-12-03T20:54:00.001-05:002010-12-03T20:57:06.592-05:00

A few days ago, I received an anxious call from a close acquaintance. "Are you going to be helping out at the special lunch at the high school on Wednesday?". Her son is my son's classmate. We had all received  a printed letter on the school letterhead (??? whatever happened to emails and preserving the trees?) requesting assistance with supplying food items ('preferably reflecting your culture

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-7435468503172489022010-11-24T20:07:00.004-05:002010-11-25T07:31:59.889-05:00

At least, that's what came to mind when reading this compendium of latest i-Baby products for the avid geek. If you  have ever taken guilty pleasure in skimming the largely useless and pricey wonder products featured in the Skymall catalog, this article may come as an eye-opener to those among you who are expecting parents or already have little bundles of joy at home. iPhone App for White Noise,

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-75142891146942397072010-11-17T18:28:00.001-05:002010-11-17T18:29:31.676-05:00

(I had been quite determined not to make this blog a food blog, popular as that genre is. But having had nothing to post about for the last week, I thought, what better than to post my sambar recipe per Amit's request, and a couple of extras with the seasonal vegetables and fruits in the grocery aisle.) Sambar recipe: Ingredients: Extract of tamarind (large marble sized piece, soaked in warm

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-47971382497298985632010-11-05T20:06:00.000-04:002010-11-05T20:06:26.799-04:00

Happy Deepavali to you (if you celebrate it, that is.) Pittsburgh is celebrating the weekend as Light-Up night, quite in keeping with the Festival of Lights that precedes it. Strictly speaking, if we were to go by the phase of the moon, Deepavali would be tomorrow night, which is the actual day of the New Moon here, but we just slavishly follow the Indian calendar, despite it being 10 hours ahead

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-56730741818609059342010-10-30T17:18:00.000-04:002010-10-30T17:18:27.779-04:00

with M, of course. S has long since outgrown trick or treating. "What are you going to be this year?" "Dunno. Maybe something scary this year, not a mouse like last time." M rummaged in a box filled with old books that I hadn't dropped off as a donation yet and let out a yell of triumph. A Darth Maul mask, and black cape rewarded her efforts. She dropped the mask and pranced around in the cape,

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-56679675084920796762010-10-22T20:29:00.000-04:002010-10-22T20:29:46.471-04:00

It's that time of the year again when our yard sits carpeted in brown, red and yellow. Our deck too. I decided to try a little bit of raking at lunchtime and headed out, rake and bags in hand. And iPod and earbuds. Nothing like listening to mellifluous Carnatic music while I filled the bags with the oak leaves. At least, that's what I thought till I bent down to scoop the leaves into the bag, and

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-10066704026051770252010-10-20T18:50:00.000-04:002010-10-20T18:50:16.277-04:00

This month has everything in sight turning Pink, fountains, cabs, billboards, junk mail, you name it,  as a reminder of the fight against Breast Cancer. But I have a case of Pink Fatigue, much like this NYTimes blogger. (In fact, I suspect she stole (a la Inception) into my pink-addled dreams and pilfered my initially planned blog post title.) Case in point: At a recent PTA meeting, we were

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-78465770551494601482010-10-06T15:13:00.002-04:002010-10-06T15:15:38.674-04:00

Does anyone recall these seriously cheesy ads for a motorized wheelchair called the Hoveround? Now, it's been replaced by a newer untuned voice-over, but the original 'Go go go in my Hoveround' remains as haunting as ever. It echoes in my brain every time I see the ad. What do those Hovering Seniors do for entertainment? Well, there's always adventures like this one, I guess. "Jerome and

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-45738863035667073082010-09-25T16:32:00.003-04:002010-09-25T16:43:14.548-04:00

The school year has started. What it means that is that any day, your grade-schooler is going to walk in the door, eagerly waving a large envelope "We are going to sell this to our neighbors....And make pots of money for the ABC field trip (or Boy Scouts, or Girl Scouts, or the MS Society...) Earlier years brought in a large red and white envelope, filled to the brim with instruction sheets,

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-21194021258556082010-09-15T16:26:00.002-04:002010-09-25T16:55:46.123-04:00

Sorry, no gossip, really, even if it was implied in the title. But this is a discourse on coffee, and my adventures with coffee making over the years. I grew up in a household where coffee of the South Indian style reigned king. When I was old enough to drive into town, I would stand in the long line at Sankar's Coffee House, a tiny shopfront that still barely survives, as they widen M.G. Road

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-40433304781920080812010-09-02T20:55:00.000-04:002010-09-02T20:55:07.918-04:00

We're back from a short vacation, one of the highlights of which was attending a taping of the Jeopardy! quiz show in the Sony Studios in Los Angeles, CA. (Sorry, no spoilers on who was on, and who won. It wouldn't be fair to the avid followers of the show. The episodes will air three months from now.) We scrambled for the online tickets once our travel dates were confirmed. I thought it would

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-28906653251403850512010-08-14T16:32:00.001-04:002010-08-14T16:35:07.321-04:00

I was determined to get my share of the Netflix videos. The kids had been hogging all the spots on the queue for the last couple of months. After casting around rather desperately through an unappetizing listing of "DVDs you'll love", the Netflix algorithm finally got me with a suggestion of  "Jeeves and Wooster", based on the P.G.Wodehouse novels. I had read maybe one book of that series, I

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-67285454143206824042010-08-05T06:57:00.001-04:002010-08-05T07:46:46.846-04:00

Yes, I know. It's the name of a rather Chocolat-esque novel and invariable movie that flopped severely at the box office, despite the big star cast and big name direction. What else to expect for a movie based on a book whose blurb reads: "Magical, tantalizing, and sensual, The Mistress of Spices is the story of Tilo, a young woman born in another time, in a faraway place, who is trained in the

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-80159527113264876272010-07-31T09:40:00.004-04:002010-07-31T09:43:27.957-04:00

Today's HuffingtonPost had a fluff piece on a gushing writer's Paris visit and her adventures trying to buy a 150 Euro scarf(!!!). The knives were out in the comments on her badly spelled French, while others turned equally gushy at the Frenchness of the story, which excused any 'dramatic license' claimed by the author. "It is considerably unfortunate that your editor lets you publish an article

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-61877063189715528042010-07-29T06:45:00.004-04:002010-07-29T06:52:55.483-04:00

BPA 101 for those who haven't heard of it : Bisphenol-A is a known endocrine disruptor that can behave in a manner resembling natural estrogen, and is already rife in the bodies of most people in the developed world. Main routes of exposure so far are the ubiquitous plastics that we use, canned food (linings of the can). Now, the Environmental Working Group has identified a new source of more

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-88470127282565398502010-07-17T09:23:00.000-04:002010-07-17T09:23:46.174-04:00

I walked out to take pictures of the roses the other day, and who should I spy, but a lovely butterfly perching on the coneflowers. Here it is, the tiger swallowtail, posing gracefully while I clicked as close to it as I could, without scaring it away. A day later, I saw he/she had brought a friend, they danced a short ballet over the coneflowers, before flying away into the neighbor's bushes.

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-77615189985509996722010-07-13T06:27:00.001-04:002010-07-13T06:33:06.460-04:00

It's mid-summer, and the coneflowers are finally in bloom. Or should I say, in varying stages of bloom. A few mornings ago, I went out to take my usual macro shots of the beauties, and this time achieved a paint-like effect in photographing all of them, without much trouble or effort at all. Enjoy!

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-58330657849397264462010-07-10T09:32:00.000-04:002010-07-10T09:32:48.911-04:00

A few weeks ago, M, S, a friend and I headed out to see the last Toy Story on the big screen. We dutifully bought our large bucket of popcorn, over-priced sodas, put on our 3D glasses and sat back to enjoy an engaging tale with the much-loved protagonists now moving into a final and fitting end to their days as Andy's toys, as Andy leaves his home and childhood behind for the challenges of

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-20668097457242394922010-07-03T08:17:00.003-04:002010-07-03T08:32:29.293-04:00

It feels as though it has been summer for a long time now, even though summer officially started only a couple of weeks ago. The garden is behaving as though it is mid-summer, except for the vegetables, which are surprisingly small this year. I've been going on a flower/perennial binge, installing pink and blue salvia, gaillardia, tickweed and roses, in the hopes that they will take root and

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-42362907822761946102010-07-01T17:58:00.002-04:002010-07-01T18:01:04.442-04:00

All of a sudden, they're all over the news. Ever since House Minority Leader John Boehner opined in an interview: "Boehner criticized the financial regulatory overhaul compromise reached last week between House and Senate negotiators as an overreaction to the financial crisis that triggered the recession. The bill would tighten restrictions on lending, create a consumer protection agency

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-46833435359388260582010-06-20T08:04:00.001-04:002010-06-20T09:02:27.020-04:00

Another school year's end, another 'debut' dance recital, another rite of passage. The dancer danced wonderfully, the costumes were gorgeous, the stage settings were fabulous, the footwork was fantastic, the choreography was superlative, the arrangements and food were excellent... But...the music was blah and a tad too loud, the air-conditioning inefficient, the speeches tedious, the makeup/

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-46077653020146067052010-06-15T16:50:00.000-04:002010-06-15T16:50:58.821-04:00

Once there was a bear who was very rich and lived in a mansion in a beautiful forest. He spent all his money on going to a tanning salon and went to an A.T.M. When he got to his account he noticed something shocking. He was bankrupt. Since he was poor he could not pay house taxes. He ended up having to live and sleep in a garbage can for the rest of his life. --------The End-------- (

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-84173794389025751242010-06-06T08:32:00.000-04:002010-06-06T08:32:28.656-04:00

A week ago, I attended a concert by a scion of the Travancore royal family at our local temple. To me, it was a double anticipation, not only of letting the music wash over me, but of maybe hearing echoes of my guru, who had also taught the vocalist during the same years that I was learning from him. With my usual penchant for rushing around with near-misses, I almost crashed into the gentleman

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-83483207909330484932010-05-29T06:51:00.004-04:002010-05-29T09:08:25.125-04:00

A few weeks ago, my cell phone rang with the special tone reserved for text messages. I scrambled for the phone and looked at the message. It said plainly : "Hi".  I couldn't identify who it came from, except that it appeared to be a local cell phone number. Next, when it rang again shortly, it was a message from my mother, signed by her. I looked at the number and it appeared to be the same as

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-23804705302152639662010-05-10T16:53:00.001-04:002010-05-10T16:55:46.223-04:00

Believe it (or in it) or not. That's the name of a scientific paper published in a journal on the validity of the famed 'Mozart Effect'. I love the name, more so that a scientist dared to use it in the actual title of his paper. "The transient enhancement of performance on spatial tasks in standardized tests after exposure to the first movement “allegro con spirito” of the Mozart sonata for two

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-21098580779738248512010-05-09T09:25:00.000-04:002010-05-09T09:25:54.134-04:00

"Happy Mother's Day", announces the email inbox. "Mother's day sale at B&N (or Amazon or wherever)" shouts another exuberant email header. Thankfully, no more after today. At least, not for another year. Next week will start the onslaught of "Have you planned for Father's day and the wonderful gift/card you are going to buy?" Yay for all the hand-drawn cards and heartfelt scribbles, the bouquets

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-71207713101755793672010-05-01T18:09:00.000-04:002010-05-01T18:09:20.438-04:00

So here are some of the tulips from my front yard. My sister had these shipped over direct from Netherlands last autumn, as a birthday gift. I wasn't sure that they would survive the rapacious squirrels and voracious deer, but survive, and thrive, they have.

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-86332550608131250442010-04-26T17:04:00.000-04:002010-04-26T17:04:07.186-04:00

Just as Arizona passes a law that permits its law enforcement officials to stop any likely looking suspect and demand "Your papers, please", we have this strange possibility posited by Stephen Hawking, of all people, regarding how Aliens from other planets may regard humans on Earth- No more than ants to be crushed under feet, if human history and the treatment of conquered peoples is any

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-43561304152944414482010-04-19T20:16:00.002-04:002010-04-19T20:23:38.350-04:00

"Is that a picture of your grandson?", I asked, trying to make small talk as I waited for the mechanic to finish printing out my bill for the car inspection. He gave me a strange look. "That's my son." Oops. Time to recalibrate. "Looks very cute and quite a handful. How old is he?", I attempted to save my lame guessing from further glares. "Three. He's quite a ham in front of the camera."  This

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-2093649560335501392010-04-13T17:12:00.003-04:002010-04-13T18:33:43.412-04:00

I had no idea. The version of Anne Frank's diary that I had read many years ago was but 60% of her original diary. The remaining 30% had been excised by her father Otto Frank before its original publication in the 1950's. I had read a reprint of that edition from the 1980's. A few days ago, my children and I sat down to watch a darker Anne Frank than I remembered from the book, no longer quite as

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-2792532096621309942010-04-04T16:46:00.004-04:002010-04-04T16:50:25.887-04:00

There is such a thing as too much chocolate. We just got back from a two day trip to Hershey, PA,  the 'Sweetest Place on Earth'. I've always had an affinity for chocolate, lovingly lingering on those tiny bars of Cadbury's milk chocolate that were a rare treat in childhood. We had to study how Theobroma Cacao was cultivated and cocoa harvested and processed in the Ivory Coast and Ghana for a

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-29009364981140144672010-03-22T07:00:00.002-04:002010-07-16T06:50:56.319-04:00

With all this news about nuns backing the health care reform, over the objections of their superiors in the church (men, of course), it brought back memories of the women of steel who taught me and other generations of infidels, toiling away in relative obscurity. I went to a convent school, at the time the only option for a decent 'English medium' education in India. The nuns were all of the

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-38739301778450514012010-03-21T11:49:00.003-04:002010-03-21T14:13:03.520-04:00

And it's time for another photo blog of the earliest goodies.

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-33765668430628235822010-03-19T07:07:00.002-04:002010-03-19T07:08:09.146-04:00

(Cross-posted from Accidental Blogger) ------------- One Holocaust survivor, Berthe Meijer, says she remembers stories told by Anne Frank to her when she was about  6 years old, not too long before Anne died in the camp at Bergen-Belsen. Meijer's memoir (in Dutch) is due out soon. But others have cast doubts on her story, tagging it as 'too good to be true'. Hannah Pick-Goslar, a friend of

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-1798349254385733832010-03-13T08:59:00.002-05:002010-03-13T09:05:47.461-05:00

Am I a mommy blogger? I suppose so, since a good chunk of my posts get tagged with Kids, as evidenced by the word cloud on the side of the page. But do I talk only about my kids and their activities, view life filtered through the prism of their experiences? I don't think so. I blog about my perspective on things, not always that of my kids. So it's a Me-blog, me incidentally being a mommy as

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-37543731907420563782010-03-08T19:45:00.000-05:002010-03-08T19:45:43.826-05:00

Did you ever wonder what fish do in the ocean, when  they aren't swimming around in search of food or mates? Try marine architecture. The red grouper species, better known as a tasty food source, has been caught digging holes in the ocean beds, which can form the basis of thriving oceanic communities that harbor a variety of other species, as well. From the Washington Post: "But their least-known

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-57953258647172127072010-03-07T13:36:00.001-05:002010-03-07T14:09:49.009-05:00

Way back when the WWW was still young, we used VT-100 terminals to log on to university-sponsored user forums. Some were general free-for-all  text-only discussions about the cultures that the students came from. As  a fresh-off-the-boat, homesick H4 housewife, I followed with interest a discussion about the Swami shenanigans of  Sai Baba, he of the Afro-hairdo, encapsulated in a monumental

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-66235372281027935702010-02-27T13:24:00.000-05:002010-02-27T13:24:55.966-05:00

Does happiness chase away the creative ability? This intriguing New York Times article suggests that depression and its attendant emotions might play an evolutionary role that has led to its being preserved in the human species across time, perhaps for the creative advantages that it confers. Imagine, no Lascaux cave art, if it weren't for a miserable young hunter who missed his great prey on the

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-66588506442714245762010-02-14T18:56:00.001-05:002010-02-14T18:57:36.883-05:00

There have been several articles recently about 'barefoot running' and its advantages over shod running. I was intrigued to see all these scientists highlighting the advantages of running bare foot or with minimal shoes that provide none of the cushioning that we have become accustomed to. The key lies in what they term the reduction of the 'heel strike' where the heel is the first point of

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-65361038633590769262010-02-07T11:28:00.001-05:002010-02-07T11:29:56.325-05:00

I'm tired of the white stuff. It looked so pretty as it softly enfolded the landscape on Friday afternoon. I raced home from work at the first signs of a snowflake or two, hoping to beat the traffic jam that would surely ensue once the snow started sticking to the roadways. The weather forecasters have a lousy track record here in Pittsburgh. '12 inches, fear, fear, terra terra, run for the hills

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-62137386716656187682010-01-27T16:49:00.004-05:002010-01-27T17:07:12.824-05:00

If the PETA had its way, and Punxsutawney Phil were replaced by an electronic groundhog, that is.In a letter pleading the case, they write:"I am writing on behalf of People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) and our morethan 2 million members and supporters worldwide. We would like to present you with anexciting, innovative proposal—one that would benefit both Punxsutawney and

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-55191007097549926852010-01-25T16:34:00.002-05:002010-01-25T16:45:16.152-05:00

Sorry, I've been remiss with the posting. I'm exhausted from just contemplating getting on Facebook, which I joined a little over a week ago. Following multiple threads of conversations between friends and friends of friends without frying a few brain cells is impossible.Till I was brought to my senses by this post by Kathy at Junkdrawer:For all the comments, snarky or otherwise, which I managed

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-67260217620606655892010-01-17T07:21:00.004-05:002010-01-17T07:38:40.302-05:00

In a big reversal on definitely saying that the plastic Bisphenol A (BPA) is not a safety concern, the US FDA is now recommending that consumers take steps to minimize exposure to it while further studies are initiated to check for subtler effects of the chemical on the human body."The agency said Friday that it had “some concern about the potential effects of BPA on the brain, behavior and

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-53243374919285489752010-01-10T18:31:00.003-05:002010-01-10T18:41:06.617-05:00

Remember the outrage that ensued when some company attempted to patent turmeric as a cure for wound healin? That patent was challenged a few years later by the Council for Scientific and Industrial Research in India, ultimately leading to its overturning. It was a patently ridiculous claim to have discovered something known for thousands of years. Such cases of biopiracy still pop up every now

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-88393303566090930192009-12-31T10:37:00.002-05:002009-12-31T10:43:15.497-05:00

...to break out the champagne and sparkling cider... and the snow shovels. We woke up this morning to what sounded like a low-flying jet but was only the friendly neighborhood snow-plow doing the rounds. ('Tis a great advantage to have a township councillor with a house in the neighborhood. All roads get plowed and salted with great alacrity.)In my favored New Year's eve ritual, I'll be snuggled

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-5123637617891104722009-12-25T10:37:00.004-05:002009-12-25T10:51:58.463-05:00

It's official. M declared a few days ago "I don't believe in Santa. It's just Amma and Appa getting us gifts."It's a rite of passage whose time has come. Last year, M chose to postpone the sad event, even as doubts started setting in. Whispered comments from her elder brother. A secret hunt to locate gift-wrapped boxes. But she still wanted to believe that it was a jolly old man in red who

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-43650186483140281242009-12-21T12:40:00.005-05:002009-12-21T12:59:07.990-05:00

Ours is the only house in the neighborhood without the mandatory Christmas lights strung around the outer contours. We put out assorted tacky stuff for Halloween because the kids have amassed quite a collection. But our 'celebration' of the spirit of the season is restricted to the indoors for other festivals.Of late, the local display of lights hasn't been quite the same. The culprits are the

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-20020552475670233642009-12-14T19:30:00.004-05:002009-12-14T19:35:14.991-05:00

Dear S,This is why... soda is bad for you.: New study showing that HCFS or fructose causes problems in people's abilities to metabolize food properly, increasing fat formation and decreasing insulin sensitivity (diabetes precursor).: List of foods containing HCFS, (see list of pop drinks)Eat wisely, :-) Love,Amma------------S was mystified by it and demanded the Cliff's Notes version. I tried

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-35893484559174925472009-12-11T16:56:00.005-05:002009-12-11T17:08:27.159-05:00

Meet Rich Kitty (original design by M, handstitched by yours truly, just for the fun of it).She is owned by the Queen of England and lives a luxurious life. Here, she is portrayed lounging on her favorite chair, with a photo of her playing ball on the wall behind. Note her special black gloves and the bows on her head and tail. They denote her special status as the Queen's kitty. According to M,

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-7776169509098110612009-12-06T20:02:00.008-05:002009-12-09T06:16:51.194-05:00

This year's must-have toy is something by the unlikely name of Zhu-Zhu Pet. It's a little semi-robotic hamster with a few different modes, and comes with a host of accessories that involve assorted tubing, running tracks etc. The hamster itself is supposed to retail for about ten dollars, but is currently being 'scalped' for an average of 30 dollars or more from the lucky few early buyers who

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-77034176706071745342009-11-29T20:59:00.007-05:002009-11-29T21:23:09.272-05:00

It's been a while since I provided an investigative reports of any kind. So here it is - an incisive, close look at the inner workings of a demonic cult. The Cult of the Snuggie.You might have seen the ads on the TV, in unguarded moments, when your defenses are down ( worse than the Steelers in the 2009-2010 season), when it shows smiling people clothed in blue or red strangely soft-looking robes

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-31712454152500654062009-11-26T16:53:00.004-05:002009-11-26T16:58:28.402-05:00

We had visitors today over for a feast.A flock of wild turkeys investigated our backyard, munching on the remnants from the bird feeder, while the squirrel cowered on the oak, watching till they left.Gobble, gobble. Happy Thanksgiving from F-n-S and a gaggle of gorgeous avians!

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-12864757973397457472009-11-21T07:56:00.007-05:002009-11-21T15:43:29.488-05:00

Actually, that should be Food Network Show fad. Now that the political scene has waned into typical bickering among media outlets over how deep Obama's bow was and should have been or how red Sarah Palin's lipstick is and ought to be, Click goes the remote.I land and pause at the latest death match on the Food Network channel. It could be the "Challenge" show, three teams of ordinary American

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-41777712192339823652009-11-13T08:15:00.007-05:002009-11-16T16:22:58.883-05:00

I had placed an order for some books at Betterworld.com, which resells old library books and recently asked about the order's delayed arrival. The books arrived yesterday, so I shot off a quick email to let them know.First reply :"Hi Sujatha, This is an automated message to let you know that your message has been received. A Better World Books human will be replying to you shortly. Thanks for

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-56467343708102519632009-11-11T16:16:00.005-05:002009-11-11T17:03:16.661-05:00

that will deter the squirrels and the chipmunks that had been monopolizing the new bird feeder.Good old chili powder.After much soul-searching, I mixed up a batch of mixed bird seed with chili powder and shook it around so most of them were well coated, poured it in the bird feeder, went back inside the house and watched the squirrel march right up expectantly to its much-anticipated feast. Two

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-31273450019109150752009-11-07T06:44:00.004-05:002009-11-07T07:06:22.630-05:00

The bird feeder that I bought earlier this year as a guaranteed squirrel-stumper has hung empty for several months. I had no interest in converting the deck into a squirrel spa. Every now and then, a sad sparrow or chickadee would stop by and frantically check the empty bird feeder, flying away in disappointment. The cardinals disdained this feeder, being unable to perch and eat in comfort on the

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-54791168520455623742009-11-03T20:36:00.006-05:002009-11-03T20:47:21.284-05:00

I got mine from Kochuthresiamma (Pareltank), who evidently caught hers from Lekhni, who caught hers from Shefaly... and so on down the line.This is the 'Blogthemitis' virus. I remember looking at all those new themes and thinking my blues were too blue for comfort, my fluffy clouds too bright and decided to try out a new theme. This theme is the blogger theme 'Mr. Moto' ( and yes, I refuse to

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-11946185868069194152009-10-31T06:56:00.010-04:002009-10-31T07:25:40.136-04:00

M: "I want to be a mouse this year. I'll wear the grey sweatpant and sweatshirt from last year's 'animal concert'( She was an elephant, with a small paper mask). I'll make up a hairband with mouse ears and go around as a mouse."She was a black cat with black turtleneck/pants/tail/purchased glittery cat-ear hairband, last year.A butterfly with wings and matching antennae-like headbands the year

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-90646689540263274262009-10-26T17:28:00.004-04:002009-10-26T17:43:44.715-04:00

Not a fear of phyllo pastry, but an excessive fear of leaves. I think my husband has it in severe form. It's the ailment of the month, when our maples and oaks start shedding copiously, even as they look spectacular in their orange pinks, golden yellows and brown orange tones." We need sponsors for the trees, to rake and bag their leaves, otherwise I'm going to look for a tree-service to come and

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-43883167896660364282009-10-17T20:02:00.001-04:002009-10-18T08:43:34.718-04:00

To all desi readers : Happy Diwali!---------------------------------------------Via Remya:1. When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought?Need to dye the front hairs again. 2. How much cash do you have in your wallet right now?$100. 3. What’s a word that rhymes with DOOR?Bore, core, fore, four, gore,hoar, lore, more, pore, roar,sore, snore,spore,store,tore

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-22745798974560709632009-10-15T16:19:00.005-04:002009-10-15T16:38:30.383-04:00

'We're bombing the moon!''Come attend the party', to paraphrase the Nasa blurb inviting the general public to the LCROSS Impact Night festivities. (Free admission, limited tent space, Please bring your own Blankets, Chairs, and Snacks.)And so the crowds gathered to watch what was projected to be a spectacular 6 kilometer high array of plumes at the point of impact, as the NASA LCROSS mission

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-82591780015869369802009-10-13T06:00:00.002-04:002009-10-23T13:28:09.467-04:00

The above web video is an effort to raise public funding for Dr. Sudhir Paul's further research into a promising approach towards a true HIV vaccine. He is the husband of my friend and co-blogger Ruchira Paul ( Accidental Blogger).-----Cut and paste below while passing the Tag ---------------Mission Anti-HIVAs Dr. Paul says in this video, the 'abzyme' approach to attacking the virus at the

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-79378924304542364722009-10-05T17:22:00.007-04:002009-10-11T16:04:00.318-04:00

It was a small volume tossed carelessly in with the rest of the frayed spines on the Public Library bookshelf. "Love of Seven Dolls" by Paul Gallico.He was one of my favorite authors as a teen, and this was one book that intrigued me, with a faded rendition of a full-skirted girl looking at what appeared to be a puppet show on the cover.I borrowed it frequently, whenever I felt the urge, over the

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-64420997659866526442009-09-25T22:18:00.026-04:002009-10-11T16:03:33.782-04:00

We entered the Metro station near Tati and headed towards line 10. No newfangled sleek trains here, unlike line 1. The trains were older, more rattley, without the completely automatic doors.You had to physically push the handles to trigger the opening. It made for a few anxious moments when the door wouldn't respond. Would we be swept away to the next station before we knew it?But the names that

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-40611995792614791442009-09-23T20:44:00.004-04:002009-10-11T16:03:33.783-04:00

It was the last day of our recent stay in Paris. We had climbed the steps to the Sacré-Coeur basilica and back down, started walking back to the metro station, when I spotted a man saunter by, dangling a pink and blue plastic bag in his hand, emblazoned 'Tati'."That's where Amma used to bring me sometimes for shopping!", I exclaimed. My husband stopped and looked at M and S. 'Shall we walk to

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-71777220926010858362009-09-19T07:55:00.011-04:002009-10-11T16:03:33.785-04:00

Inspired by punarjanman's list (Via Blogpourri):I most definitely remember, not the Chalet School stories, but the Maids of La Rochelle books. There is something very appealing about leaving your hot, humid country, as I subconsciously imagined myself doing, and going off to live on a windswept craggy island with an exotic name like Guernsey, where people speak a variant of English that bears

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-26270231389817135582009-09-12T08:00:00.007-04:002009-10-10T16:41:48.496-04:00

We sit idling in the traffic. The intersection is jammed, and it is definitely going to take more than 10 minutes to clear. The lurid mix of diesel and petrol fumes outside leaves us unaffected, no more than a faint dribble through the air-conditioned air of the car.Outside, a woman in a black cotton veil picked over with tiny embroidered mirrors in red makes her way past the cars. She is

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8656806444799564371.post-40230912586963108702009-08-31T17:10:00.012-04:002009-10-10T16:42:01.878-04:00

The taxi winds around the narrow maze of roads leading up to the fort. It's a very democratic cross-section of the population that lines up to enter the grounds: at Rs.10 per ticket, this is a poor man's park, not just the haunt of the well-heeled. The lawns near the entrance are surprisingly green, well-watered even as an extended dry spell has been hovering over the city and suburbs. But

Sujathahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16602206543960349999noreply@blogger.com4