This Blogging Bit

This Blogging bit boggles the brain. The question I am grappling with currently is why it is so difficult to keep this up. At this point, I do a quick re-cap:
Rate at which I start to write a blog: once in 3 months
Rate at which I complete writing a blog: once in 4 months (ha! now you calculate how this is possible!)
Rate at which I remember that I have a blog: Once in a blue moon

:(((((((((

Sad....really and truly sad. My claim to be a part-time writer, my so-called passion for the written word, the dictum I stand by that the pen is mightier than the sword....all blown to pieces by hard evidence of how I maintain my Blog site.

I remember the enthu with which I started this. For days, I thought of the Blog title. For weeks I worked on the page format. For months I worked on my opening statements. Then something got in the way. It was called Life. Yes, and it included this and that, and that and this, and my poor blog site got pushed to the back of my brain, and to the back of my browser cache.

I struggle to make sense of this apparent contradiction. On the one hand, I love to write. I know this for a true-blue fact. I am particularly good with the creative word and how to express thoughts in my mind on paper, or on the keyboard. I have access to my computer, I have thoughts (never-ending, I might add), and writing lets me release positive energy. And yet, this poor blog site is called upon once in a blue moon.

Which brings me back to the concept of Blogging. Is it a fad that is then on it's way out? Is it a platform for personal expression, or a link to be sent for circulation? Is it a way to let the world know that you can write, or is it a means to make a statement on anything and everything? Am I already bored with this blogging bit?

Upon reflection, the answer to that is "no". I am not done here yet. I feel very much like quoting Robert Frost who said famously, "I have miles to go before I sleep, I have miles to go before I sleep". I guess I have many more thoughts, experiences, perceptions and opinions to ink. It might be intermittent, it might be once in a blue moon, but guess what, the blog belongs to me! Which means I can do with it as I please.

Upon further reflection, I realize that this is exactly what happens to me everytime (which is once in a blue moon) that I log in to my blog site. I see the depressingly short list of blogs, and I am energized out of my writing inertia to add another blog. Then I'm gone for weeks...what is this mystery then (is it writer's block? Ha! Fat chance)...?

Until I figure that out, I ask whoever is gracious enough to visit this blog site to put up with this beleagured blogger who has bungled this boggling blogging bit....for the moment. And many thanks! :)

Raging Rajani & Loquacious Leela

This is an ode to those colorful characters whom I recently happened to remember...those stalwarts of South Indian cinema, who have, over the many many years, provided more entertainment to the masses (including the likes of us "elites") than they have been given due credit for....so, I decided, these guys deserve a bit of ink...even as I recall them and their antics with fondness (?), a certain heightening of my senses, and yes, laughter...plenty of laughter.

A friend sent me a link to a Kannada song website which triggered it all off..a link to a song that went as follows...(Here, you have to really get into trying to sing a Kannada song with English lyrics with a Kannada accent)..."Life is a merrrrrrrrrrrry mellloddy.......life is a haaaaanting rhapsody....". I have to admit I didn't get past those two lines...it was a different matter that the lyrics were really quite indecipherable, but I was busy rolling on the ground laughing my head off...

But once I scrambled back onto my chair, and wiped off the tears, I scrolled through the rest of the movie list, and saw some classics...."Prema Loka" was one such....and when I clicked on "Nodamma hudugi, kelamma sariyagi"....I could visualize Juhi Chawla, in her white mini-skirt...the hot new babe in college...and Ravi Chandran, the college rowdy-to-turn-irresistible-hero, with his bee-hive hairdo, tight white pants, and the smouldering look...singing "hosa hudugi antha bidtheeni, naale indha nodkoltheeni, underrrrstaaand?"....what a hoot!

The other character who deserves an honorable mention here is Vishnu Vardhan...who as far as I remember always, always had a paunch, wore white pants and matching white shoes, and a lock of hair falling over his forehead...

Hailing from Bangalore and not including Lingo Leela of the Radio City fame would be unacceptable, so here is my toast to "Colloquial Class with Miss Lingo Leela". Excerpts...

"Wellcome to calloquial class. Today's word of the day yis.."Jing-Jak". Yit myeans to suggest ye bright multi-colored blinding yand gaady piece of clothing. For yegzample, " Rajeshwari, yene neenu langa dhawani haakondu olle jing-jak aagi bandhidya". Myeans, "Ey Rajeshwari, what man, you have worn ye haalf saari and are looking draap-dead gaargeous, like ye baambshell".

But the high-point of this ode is to none other than the (in)famous RajaniKanth...who is next only to God in million's of people's eyes, I'm told. My picturization of RajaniKanth is of a guy with black baggy pants, white keds, sleeveless, red vest (banyan), unruly hair, cigarette in mouth (of course), and loads and loads of attitude. Do I need to go into his famed stunts (watch out James Bond), unparalleled in Indian Cinema (except maybe by Mithun Chakravorty...no...for sure Mithun comes a possible second...Rajani RULES)...

Imagine if all movie stars looked and behaved like Tom Cruise or Shah Rukh Khan...how boring. What would life be without these colorful characters, so much a part of our childhood memories...

I'm so glad that we got to witness these characters (in moderation, thank God), so that now, years later....we can send emails, reminisce, laugh, and have a happy moment.

Summer in SoCal

The weekend was here, and all we wanted to do was get away and de-stress and do something fun. So off we headed to La Jolla, San Diego. We were told of famous sea caves there where kayaking was supposedly a pretty amazing experience. So, water-sport buffs that we are, decided to take the plunge.

The first evening we spent driving around San Diego, from the beautiful Coronado Island to the "historic" Gas Lamp District. It never ceases to amuse me the way Americans call something about 75 years old "historic". Being Indian, and having seen places and things in India that are thousands and thousands of years old, so incredibly beautiful in their seeming timelessness, I am amazed at how short history is to Americans...in any case, the "historic" Gas Lamp district has buildings that are not the regular modern-day concrete monsters, but well...."historic" in the sense of having architecture about 100 years old...and of course, a few lamps on street corners that run on gas (hence the name). So much for that.

The next day we headed on to La Jolla, which is truly a beautiful place. Of course, we went there on a beautiful day, warm and sunny, clear skies which made the ocean look bluer and more inviting. Soon, we were on a kayak together, paddling through what seemed to be an amazingly calm ocean....just like a giant, endless swimming pool. We paddled, and paddled and paddled...and saw the sea caves...waves lashing onto cave openings that looked so dark, and mysterious and inviting...but we had strict instructions not to venture close to the cave openings, so we had to be satisfied with looking from a small distance...still a magnificent sight...layers of the cave surfaces proof of hundreds of years of erosion, and beautiful cave formations...and of course we saw sea lions...almost blended into the background of the cliffs....lying around soaking up the sun, not a care in the world...their only worry seemed to be that they had to share the rocks with the pelicans...thousands of them.

We paddled some more, and in the distance saw a couple of dolphins....only fleeting glimpses, but enough cause for excitement. Then, we came to the tiger sharks....so many of them! And so close to the sea shore....they were right there, swimming beneath our kayaks...slick creatures with tiger stripes on their bodies...supposedly harmless. I experienced a moment of panicky doubt...what if they were actually not THAT harm-less and what if the crashing waves overturned my kayak, and what if I suddenly found myself swimming amongst the sharkies...before my wild imagination ruined my confidence, I paddled furiously away from the spot into deeper and more safer (in my mind) waters...in any case...some other sightings included a huge brilliantly pink and red jelly fish (beautiful creature), and sea lions propped up on buoys in the middle of the ocean, taking a break from swimming around. And of course, we were sharing the ocean with human swimmers who seemed to be swimming miles and miles in deep sea. Admirable stamina.

All in all, a great trip, a dose of blue water, warm sands and a sun-drenched kayaking stint testament to the famous Southern California experience! Comes highly recommended by this fan of the ocean.

The Tale of The Orange Thief

The still air, the quiet of the surrounding wilderness and the tangy scent of oranges that tantalized the senses were all deceptive decoys in the drama that was about to unfold....
The Place: Santiago Oaks Regional Park, Orange (get it?) County...
The Time: Mid-afternoon...on a "normal" December day...
The Crime: ....Grand Theft...giving the Law the Slip...
The Climax: The perp (hero?) takes a quick stealthy look around to see if anyone is watching, and speedily but deftly lunges for the juiciest (although not largest) orange hanging on the tree....the perp turns around....orange in hand....runs towards the car.....but wait...a fence separates him and the car(where his accomplice waits with baited breath...will he? wont he? will he....)....but no problemo....our muscular, athletic and ever-agile hero leaps high into the air....leg 'one' clears the top of the fence with insulting ease....leg 'two'...well, leg 'two' almost makes it....the heel catches the end of the fence....but at the precise instant, the Gods are smiling on the hero...and he clears the fence and...(clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)....

Ok, back up, back up, back up.....where were we? Oh, yes....it all started one day in December when two people....we'll name them Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-Dee...no, I'm just kidding.....ok, we'll name them Drake and Duck.....allright, allright.....we'll name them G and P (the exact reason for this is beyond the scope of this story)....anyway, so G and P decide not to waste a really lovely afternoon and head for the hills, with the aid of a hiker's guide-book....

They arrive at Santiago Oaks Regional Park, and discover that it is virtually uninhabited....not a soul around, or almost...(the reader is asked, at this point, to make a mental note of this piece of information as the striking irony of it will be revealed towards the end of the tale)...well, both G and P not being one of those we-like-crowds-baby kind of people are quite at ease with this situation, and park the automobile and get out to discover very serene surroundings....a really well maintained and beautifully kept park....plenty of flora...including very pretty flowering and non-flowering trees, and big trees and small trees...and tall trees and short trees..and....ah-em...orange trees...thats right....around the car park area was a fenced off region that housed scores of orange trees....and whats more, these trees had tonnes and tonnes and tonnes of brightly colored (orange) oranges hanging on them....

To continue the saga….G and P both feel that it would be nice to have an orange…after all, they were SO within reach….but suddenly, they spot a prominent sign that says “Picking of oranges NOT allowed”….okay, no problem, we are after all law-abiding citizens, and we do not indulge in that sort of behavior….so off go G and P on the hike….

Hikety hike, hikety hike…..climb up, climb down…walk, run, huff and puff…..a pretty neat work out….feels really good….

Back to the parking area a couple of hours later…..almost in the automobile….but wait….P’s eye catches the orange orchard….sweat dripping from face, throat parched from thirst….and P gives G the look…..BOY…..wont an orange…a juicy orange feel really really good right now?? Ok, so P convinces G to take the plunge, cross the fence and pick an orange…G agrees….after all, the place is deserted, and what harm can one little orange really do…..?? So G proceeds calmly towards the orange tree, and is all set to climb the fence…..suddenly there is a frantic shout from P….”Come back! Come back! The Park ranger is here! The park ranger is here! Come BACK!”….panic, desperation, and terror in his voice, P is racing back towards the car…..G looks back at him, and sees the sheer terror written all over his face….she looks beyond him…sure enough a pick up is driving up the parkway….and sure enough it was the park ranger…..so G bends down and pretends to be tying her shoe laces….uh-huh…not stealing oranges, but tying shoe-laces….extremely innocent…..nothing to worry about…..

Park-ranger drives on towards the building…..barely giving G and P a glance…see, nothing to worry about????…anyway, G decides she’s had enough of this game and its time to go home….and gets into the automobile…..where’s P….ok, folks, guess what? P is now suddenly charged with courage and determination…..defiant in the wake of authority, P has decided to do the unthinkable, the unimaginable, the unheard of…..steal an orange from the orange tree.

G is skeptical, she doesn’t think that P has it in him…..she’d much rather get into the car and get out of there and go on home…but no, siree, no…..P’s mind is made up….he is getting that orange, if it’s the darned last thing he ever does!!!

So, we’re back where we started…. The perp (hero?) takes a quick stealthy look around to see if anyone is watching, and speedily but deftly lunges for the juiciest (although not largest) orange hanging on the tree....the perp turns around....orange in hand....runs towards the car.....but wait...a fence separates him and the car(where his accomplice waits with baited breath...will he? wont he? will he....)....but no problemo....our muscular, athletic and ever-agile hero leaps high into the air....leg 'one' clears the top of the fence with insulting ease....leg 'two'...well, leg 'two' almost makes it....the heel catches the end of the fence....but at the precise instant, the Gods are smiling on the hero...and he clears the fence and...(clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)....

BUT WAIT….suddenly, we hear another engine revving up…and what do we see? The park ranger has reversed the truck and is coming towards us….that’s it, P needs no telling. Fear is written loud and clear in every pore of his being….he starts the car and skids into drive….and ZOOMS out of there….looking fervently into the rearview mirror…is the park ranger following him..?? He steps on the gas….faster and faster….the car zips out of the park, obviously violating the speed limit, onto the road back home…..P relaxes only when he is sure that nobody is following him, nobody is going to stop him, charge him with grand theft, and send him to prison…..

P looks at G with a sheepish grin. G is dying of laughter…and in her hand is the spoils of P’s brave endeavor….a single out of shape, bruised, not-so-orange orange….and G laughed all the way back home….!

Based on a true incident....

Row, Row, Row the Raft

As we drove up the mountains, we saw the Kern River, now a gushing, rushing, raging river crashing down over the rocks, now a calmer, gentler bubbling brook, sparkling in the early morning sun...looking so fresh, so crisp, so beautiful...
Along the way we saw people camping alongside the river, trying to get away from it all, trying to connect with this gorgeous manifestation of Nature itself....much as ourselves, as we made the three hour journey to partake in the adventure of-white water rafting.
Finally, we arrived at Lake Isabella, a beautiful, vast expanse of blue, blue water, looking all the more gorgeous in the early morning sun. We continued to drive towards the point where we were to begin the trip down the river Kern.
When we signed in, got our gear (life jacket, paddle and pep talk by the guide), we were more than ready to start! Now - a little background on our co-rafters: One big gang, consisting of two families were to raft with us. We had to be divided into two rafts and within 3 seconds, the sub-groups were decided...our raft had the both of us, and all the men, and the boys...and the other raft...well, the other raft had the-girls...there was NO WAY the BOYS wanted to go rafting with the GIRLS....!!!
So, off we were to a roaring start.....we made the trip downstream, over the rapids, the view along the way absolutely breath-taking, the day absolutely perfect...we followed the guide's calls...we paddled forward, we paddled backward, we plowed through the rapids, bouncing, splashing, and dancing on the white, white water.....what fun!!!!!!
And then......then we did the "Powerhouse"....a stretch of steep river descent.....claimed to be the steepest river descent in the country....30 feet of sheer rapids...could we do it? Were we upto it? Well....we were about to find out...
Off we started...hearts pounding, paddles paddling...and then, we came to the rapids...
Of course, I fell into the river in the rapids...I had to....(Was I the Rat that deserted the sinking ship? Sinking Raft?) and my knight in shining armor almost fell trying to rescue me....and in the process, the raft lost balance and our GUIDE fell in the river (not a good sign).....then another chap fell, and the guide's paddle hit him on the nose....in the mean time I am desperately trying to get back into the raft.....someone else on the raft lost a sandal, someone else lost a paddle...my "knight" desperately trying to stay ON the raft...lots of screaming..."I LOST MY SANDAL"......"I LOST MY PADDLE!!!!"......"HELP!!!"......and in the general pandemonium that ensued...the guide-less raft (remember the guide is in the river) drifted towards the edge of the river where the trees with their overhanging branches are....and suddenly (by this time all of the jantha has managed to scramble back on the raft) we are faced by scores and scores of tree branches....so again, more screaming "DUCK!!"...."DUCK!"...."DUCK!"..........finally, we manage to steer the raft away from the branches....and manage the rest of the rapids.....float downstream and collect the sandal and the paddle........WHAT FUN!!!
And then we learnt that the GIRLS' raft had experienced no difficulty whatso-ever, they had managed a professional trip down the rapids...but somehow... I think that we had had more fun...
Three cheers to the Kern River and my first white-water-rafting experience!!

The Rat's opening statements

Pause the race, this rat needs to smell the flowers...

I hate rats....absolutely detest, loathe and abhor them...some say it is an irrational fear that I harbor (refer upcoming blog on an incident from my kiddy days), but I dont really care. The point is that I hate them. However, I sure as heck feel like a rat in a rat race these days...I refer with a despondent shake of my head to 'the amazing race' that life seems to perpetually be....and how rat-like we all have become...what's with us anyway? My recent past has been super busy the last couple of years with few moments to spare, and now that I AM free, I feel restless, anxious to "get on" with it...I feel that I should be stepping on the next stepping-stone, aiming for the next target, reaching towards the next goal, etc, etc, etc...how did we become such expert rats racing away towards that unknown, unseen finish line...that pot of gold at the end of the road (rainbow?)....running, running...always running...pausing but briefly to catch our breath and a quick sip of Gatorade or Glucon-C/D ....then running, running again...all of us, rats (ugly repuslive creatures)...running the rat race...

I'm tired of being a RAT, I tell you. And that's why I have decided to stop running the race for a moment. There are things in life to be done, methinks. Like watching a sunset, walking a dog, climbing a mountain, reading a good book and then THINKING about it...and smelling the flowers....yes, smelling the beautiful roses, and jasmine, and daisies, and rajanigandha...smelling the flowers (I'm a BIG fan of flowers, BTW) and taking a moment from our oh-so-busy schedules to revel in that which is bigger and more powerful and more inexplicable than all of us rats put together...