we are like this only

I've been doing some thinking about where and why the whole cosmetics/ clothing industry thrives on women. And I think I've got it figured out. The whole thing starts in childhood, when some well-meaning person reads out the Cinderella fairy tale to a little girl. And she starts planning on two things for her future – Prince Charming who's coming to take her away from the drudgery, and the transformation scene with the fairy godmother. So when you grow up, naturally you spend all your time and money looking for that fairy godmother. Each time you go to a gay hairstylist, you're praying for the before-and-after scene. Same thing happens each time you visit a make-up counter. And especially when they promise you a make-over, you're like "Omigod, my childhood fantasy is coming true at last. Next thing you know the PC will be coming on his white charger/ personal Learjet!" And with my supreme bad luck, you get a make-up artist who doesn't know how to deal ...

Women's Day happens to coincide with Chubbocks' birthday. The first time a big hoo-hah was being made of the day, I was getting my stomach cut open and spent the rest of the day in a comatose condition induced by the general anaesthetic. Since then, I can give you a breakdown of the standard women's day drill in our household: 1. Wake up early and wish Chubbocks 2. Get started on making his favourite breakfast/ lunch 3. Clean up in a frenzy 4. Be in the kitchen, most likely barefoot, and in my case given the number of kids, pregnant, cooking party food since I'm an oldfashioned mom and insist that birthday parties be at-home affairs 5. Barely get ready by the time half the guest list has arrived 6. Run around like mad at said party, making sure everyone's eaten, drunk and generally enjoyed themselves 7. Organise dinner for in-laws and spouse 8. Go to bed, every bone in the body aching This year we added one new step: -1. Stay awake most of the night between feeding ...

I went to the mall saturday to buy A a gift, JLT. Being a contrary, cussed man, he insists he doesn't want/ like anything because he doesn't need it. Therefore I end up with 3 pairs of shoes from Nine West ( major sale - got 'em for about 700 Rs each!). It was this woman's day, all right :)

Sadly, in life, you tend to appreciate things more when they are gone. Like all the gardens in the various Lutyens bungalows we lived in while Dad was in the government. Now I have a handkerchief-sized patch of lawn on which you have to really struggle to make even grass grow, and most of my 'trees' grow in pots. But luckily I live in Delhi which in this season is spectacular. All manner of spring flowers are out in a riot of colour – phlox, pansies, poppies, dahlias, mums, Sweet Williams, impatiens and more. The colony I live in has many avid gardeners so it's a joy to walk around and see how different people plan their garden. One lady has a gorgeous Petrea which blooms for barely 15 days but in that time the entire creeper is covered in starry lavender coloured flowers. My gardener unfortunately killed off my petrea but today I'm planning to go shop for it at the Khan Market nursery. Another neighbor plants the flowers in great masses in front of her house so it look...

I found this on facebook today and had to put it up – both out of shock and out of pride that someone is saying, The Buck Stops Here'. "Yes, everything changes. The fantastic invisible sweep of time rushes and roars past us every dull and intense second that ticks relentlessly away every day, and all around us things constantly morph. Twin towers crumble, good people die, the good earth turns brown and bare, and old love fades. And what precisely is your role in the incredible kaleidoscope of change? A slack-jaw by-stander who barely registers the impact and implications? A commentator spectator who freely critiques but somehow rises above being affected by it all? A fatalist loser who bemoans everything and blames it all on circumstances and other people? Look around you, you who reside in the so-called mind and knowledge capital of the shining new India. This is Bangalore. Many of the quiet avenues that used to snake through the wooded shades and fragrant flower-scatters of ...