Fixing it instead of throwing it away

I read one of those cheesy quotes on Facebook just now.

"When asked how they managed to stay together for 65 years, the woman replied 'We were born in a time when something broke you fixed it and not throw it away"

First thoughts, like I said I found it cheesy. But I gave it another seconds thought and realised that it is true isnt it. Some things that were made in the 40s or 50s still work fine. Like my grandmothers gramophone and my granddads telephone. He would sincerely repair it when it went crazy. There was more purity in the air than now. Things were simple.

The advent of science and technology and the wish to make life simple and easy has actually complicated everything in my opinion. Can you repair your mobile set if it got repaired today? No, I have no clue what is wrong with it and the HTC service at Singapore wants me to fly to India to get mine repaired, for instance.

The days of bread and peanut butter have flown away. Its italian/parmesan/wheat/raisin/banana bread with peanutbutterwithstrawberryjelly/blueberryessence/chocolatechip.

This complication has led us to approach everything with a more careless attitude, if I may.

Doesn't work? Throw it away. Not I should try to understand why it went wrong.
Too much food? Waste it. Not I shouldn't buy this much food next time.
Fought with a friend? Forget that bitch. Not Did I do something wrong? What can we do to make it work.

I should adapt the repairing strategy as well.

Do it yourself!

I have already blogged about doing-it-yourself. It's one of those fascinations thats here to stay. Like watching a kid who is giggling. Like watching kodee (Amma's helper at home) sweep the room one stroke at a time. Like watching the barber at work one chop at a time. Like stoping to watch the snail cross the pavement.

Its entertaining, its engaging and its fun. It keeps my hands at work and that makes me smile. I read a piece on HBR about most people receiving satisfaction out of physical work. Think about it. Haven't you always felt like a star after cleaning your room? After going for a run? After watering plants? Its as if physical work is one full shot of happiness and energy boost.

It is a very interesting theory especially in the age of iPhones and banking. As more and more people are moving themselves from physical labour to intellectual labour how can we still keep our bodies useful? How can we create a life that engages all that we possess?


A very intriguing thought process I would think! So think about it and see how you engage your body in your everyday life :) 

Cereal Power!

I dont know if its the huge blob of juicy meat thats starring back at me, but I feel like writing about food again! Its probably just that I love anything yummy.

I managed one thing in the past sem very successfully. I started eating breakfast everyday. It was a huge struggle trying to keep up this habit through the first two years of uni. Finally I can say that its set, its a pattern, its clockwork.

I was never a fan of cereal. Never took a fancy for milk and Kellogg's back in Chennai. Like Bob Dylan said 'The times, they are changing'. I am a HUGE fan of cereal now. I dream of pouring milk into a bowl of crunchy dried up pieces of joy.

Part of figuring out the breakfast menu is running up and down the cereal section in the supermarket and picking a cereal for the week. I was on a search for the perfect cereal for several weeks. One bright sunny sunday, while I was walking the aisles of NTUC Fairprice, I discovered a particular variant of Kellogg's. NutriGrain. That's the name of heaven in my world. A big fat bowl of Meiji and NutriGrain makes my day like none other!

Make no mistake. If you try this out (which you definitely should!) you need to say the following things twice and cross your heart:

1) I will have only Meiji milk in my bowl
2) I will have only NutriGrain
3) I will not substitute the above holy ingredients

Done?

+

=

There. Your happy day is right in front of you (or in the supermarket aisle). Go grab it! Eat it!

A smaller serving

The concept of eating out of small plates not new to me. Mom always practices that and I can't even count the number of times I have thought it did not make sense. I am sorry Amma. Now I completely understand that!

Dan and Chip recommend the same path for controlling your elephant in their book 'Switch'. Two groups of movie-goers were given free but stale popcorn. One group however a bigger bucket than the other. So did these people eat their popcorn at all? Was there a difference in the amount they ate?

Yes to both the questions. Both groups did eat the stale popcorn. More over, the group with the bigger bucket ate more than the group with the smaller bucket. Moral of the story? When your supposed capacity is bigger you eat more.

The authors suggest a learning of 'change the situation to solve the problem' through this analogy. If we were trying to get these people to eat less popcorn, what should we do? We would simply give them a smaller bucket.

I have been trying to take smaller portions for dinner these days. So when I go for the second serving, my head knows that it is the second and hence tries to be content with a smaller portion at the end of the day.

I think this is also a part-reason, gourmet dishes are so fulfilling. Forget that fine dining is usually yummier/ more exquisite than regular dining. They come in such tiny portions! But after three courses you want to be done!

To changing situation and eating lesser! Hopefully this seed of thought will pave way for a flatter tummy..

Keep smiling!

Ever wondered what the woman who past you smiling to herself was thinking/reading/saying?

I ALWAYS did!

I have a fascination for that more-than-human power. I always try to imagine situations for a person I noticed on the road!

Some days I am just really not thinking about anything. Say, when I am walking to work. I am just observing people and dreaming up their life or their day.

It would be a killer power to know what is going on - on their minds would it not? Purely super natural stuff.

Especially when these people are smiling. I can just come up with a million happy things that would have happened to them just then. And somehow it makes me smile.

Powerful and contagious, Smile is!

Annoying Paper Clip Guy and Computer Period

I was reading 'Switch'. Lovely lovely book. So many tiny things and tweaks about life in general. A post is coming soon about all that. In the meanwhile, the authors mention 'The annoying paper clip' guy. I had completely forgotten about this dude!

It took me down a memory of computer labs in school. We were taken to the lab once every week, I think right from when I was 5. It was heaven on earth. Especially if you understand the coolness factor among your friends if you have 'Computer Period' that day! It multiplies by about 100 times than the non-computer-period kids.

Whats so cool about that? Firstly its an hour of aircon! Now if you ever lived in Chennai, India or spent more than 5 hours with 40 sweaty kids in one poorly ventilated classroom (My school was actually not that horrible. I am just blowing the facts out of proportion to intensify the story line!) you'll know the feeling of an hour of aircon.

Secondly you get to use the computer! At home, I was always allowed to use the computer only under adult supervision at that age. Mom/Dad would sit with me a let me learn something. Which is not as cool as, you sitting all by yourself and doing whatever you want with your computer (in an HOUR of aircon)!

Now to the paper clip guy. He was also a very ritualistic part of the learning process. The teachers encouraged us to use his help while navigating through the Office. Partly because they dint know what they were talking about, in my opinion! I used to take his help reluctantly cause sometimes there was no other way to finish the little tasks my tutors gave me.

I remember how he never left the screen. He used to keep unrolling from somewhere. I also remember the day I figured out how to turn that guy off. It was a very very epic moment making that discovery!

2 - On the train

Grace loved her new job!

After years of toiling at law universities and part-time jobs she was here! It was a small law firm. She was the youngest kid on the block with three partners in the firm and 4 other lawyers. It
had been almost a month.

The number of internships she had been through taught her to expect nothing but mundane coffee making and hours with the printer in the first few weeks. And thats exactly how her new job started out too. An emergency case however came up and she had to manage the initial paperwork for the new clients. ‘Exciting times, they were coming!’ she was singing to herself.

She woke up tuesday morning all set to meet her clients later that day. Life was just as she expected. Everything was falling into place like she knew.

She decided to take the metro to work and walked up the long staircase. Meeting the old subway-man, buying her tissue pack for the day from him, greeting the guy behind the counter. A typical day!

She found her favourite seat on the train and thought she'll listen to some music. As she took out her iPhone, she sensed someone looking down on her. The shadow did not move, alarmed she looked up to see a hippy-looking guy. She looked at him not knowing what to say. He asked her if she spoke english. She decided the best answer to give was no. She shook her head. He sat next to her.

She was a little nervous because of his question. She tilted her head towards the window trying to concentrate on her lyrics.

'I met a f*ing girl,
On a f*ing train,
Who dint speak f*ing english..'

He had started to rap!

Who was she kidding.
Nothing was ever going to be the way she expected. Everyday was full of surprises. She smiled thankfully and wondered what he would have done if she had accepted to knowing english!

1 - An old man

The clock struck twelve. It was time to go to bed. He switched off the television reluctantly and sat back.

Chirck chirck chirck chirck. 

He was amused by how the seconds needle in the clock was capable of creating an eerie aura inside the room. And that was how the seconds hand -  time itself, turned eerie. He smiled to himself. 

He took a few minutes to ignore the chircks. He pulled himself up from his chair. He was no longer as fit as he used to be. He used his walking aids and trudged to the bedroom.

Now that the empty words of the television hosts were muted, he felt the air around him turning heavy. Their endless gab made it lighter and more tolerable.

He removed the toothbrush and the paste from the deep blue stand. The blue rings on the holder hypnotised him into the past. He saw her hand pulling off the wraps and placing the holder on the rack. He saw her grace as she put things back into place. Her dancer instincts transformed him into an awesome audience. She sprinkled grace and charm in every corner of their house. The grace and charm - they dance till today. 

Thud. 

The sound of the brush on the floor snapped him out of his trance. 

He was used to times like this by now. Snapping in and out of the 60 years. It was as if someone was playing melody to his ears in excruciating bits. Pausing too long before each snap. All those years of marriage suddenly crumbled to dust when she moved on. She always kept herself busy. Taking care of people was her favourite hobby. She could never sit in one place and take some time off. 

He hoped to join her in her journey forward soon. Earth was no longer his world. It stopped being so the second she left. He walked back to his bed and said a little prayer before retiring to sleep. 

‘Don’t run like you always do. Wait for me. Walk a little slow. Wait for me’

Buddha said so

The picture says it all. I took a few seconds to understand the meaning of the quote.. And then it hit me!

Eternal burning of the soul-dead tongue

Have you ever burnt your tongue? I don’t remember much of tongue burning at home. Maybe because food was always at an appropriate temperature ready for consumption. I always burn my tongue here in uni. There is a tiny stall outside my Lecture theatre. Dilys. The aunties there sell some local snacks and beverages. Every day while running to class, a 3-minute stop at this stall to get some Milo and potato puffs is an essential to-do. These potato puffs are the closest to the heavenly vegetable puffs/samosas from McRennett, by the way.

What follows inside the class, is the eternal burning of the soul-dead tongue. I am quite certain that if my tongue were an independent entity capable of some thought and action, it would tie me up and beat me till I bleed. Thats the amount of torture I have put it through. The stomach kept bothering the mind with its continuous signals of ‘Get-us-some-thing-to-work-on’. What else was the mind supposed to do.

I blame the nosy neighbor of the grumpy bus driver. The neighbor was poking her nose into the bus driver’s yard. The silly wife got pissed and called up the husband. The husband is the bus driver of the bus that was to come at 10.52 am to Temasek Hall bus stop. He didn’t. The grumpy bus driver lost his temper over his wife and her silly problems. He drove slowly because of that and came to the Temasek Hall bus stop only at 11 am. It was a 6-minute ride with the grumpy bus driver till I got off at the Computer Centre bus stop. By then I was stressed and running to class that my system needed some energy. That was right outside Dilys.

And so I stopped. I bought the goodies and continued the run to the theatre. I sat down beside the usual gang and opened my Milo and took a tiny sip and burnt the tongue. Let it be known that I do this every single time the grumpy bus driver drives by late. Sometimes I do not need him and his gala team to evoke my desire for Dilys goodies. Most other times I do need them.

Letters in Tamil

Mom suddenly decided to write me a letter a couple of weeks back. She had written in tamil and dad had added his note in the end. It was an emotional 20 minutes going through that letter! I missed the warmth all of a sudden.

In a couple of days, after re-reading the letter till the gist of it was etched in my mind - I was ready to write back. I decided I would write in Tamil as well.

Now I took Tamil in school for almost ten-ish years. Mom is too awesome with her literary tamil. She writes poems and is quite good in her game. That and some other things always kept me quite well-versed in the written version of the language.

Its been 6 years since. I have not written more than a para on my own in these years. And quite obviously the written part of the language has been dying a slow death.

As I took my pen and paper, I got stuck with the first few words. I was out of sync in every sense. I could not however give up on the mission. So I went all out and wrote whatever spelling came into my head. The contents were reeking of all sorts of emotions, the spelling just one - comedy.

Needless to say my mom had a hearty laugh! Dad says she hasnt laughed so much in a million years.

We are exchanging some memories and thoughts on paper now. It somehow means so much more. I am gearing myself up for the next war. This time I hope I lose a little less soldiers than the last!

Take a moment off

Taking a moment to pause is something I am learning. Before asking a question too soon. Before saying something mean. Before replying to an e-mail. Before putting someone's idea/spirit down. Before getting lost in the rat race.

It does wonders. I was walking back home from the bus stop. Its a 4-5 minute walk to my room. It was pretty late in the night I think. I was enjoying my time off and walking at my leisure. I suddenly realised it had been ages since I had walked barefoot. Its a nice feeling when your feet touches the ground. A silent bond. I think its got to do with the same spin your mind takes when you step into a garden or a lush green area. The bond with the greater power. The feeling of one.

I walked back to my room taking in every step all the way to my heart. It was almost a trance as I concentrated only on my feet and the ground beneath. It made me smile when I got back. It gave me a good night's sleep!

Pride in the victorian age

I enjoy reading victorian drama. Something about the simplicity of things or the lack thereof, draws me into itself.

Pride and Prejudice is a particular favourite. I would not miss a chance to watch the chivalry of Mr Darcy or the elegance of Ms Bennet. I would not miss a chance to read their complex characters. The enchanting language lifts the mood and transports me into a truly supernatural world. The details in clothes and importance given to appearance makes me wonder about the intellectuals of that age - what did they think  about giving so much importance to appearance. The emotions Ms Jane describes plunges me into a sea of awe. How much did she know of human character or how much did she imagine.

Its a magical world, the world of pride and prejudice. The attention to detail to everything that ever existed. The fleeting raptures created by even the smallest curtsy or nod. The letters that bring joy and sorrow in words rich with feelings. The loyalty of household managers. The exorbitant meals. I find every single detail of the victorian age romantic. I would trade anything to be a part of that age if that would ever be possible.

Ofcourse in describing my favourite era, I am consciously forgetting how they did not care about the rest of the world or in fact cared too much to rule most parts of it. How they treated the slaves. How they wasted resources. I am just trying to stay inside the pleasures of literature!

The physical book

Its holiday time and I am indulging in the world of words with a passion. I love reading. I use audiobooks also now thanks to a friend. While audio books help me mutli task when I am running around, reading a physical book takes the first place in my heart. I realised I could never substitute books. I need to flip the pages and read. I need to feel the paper in my fingers. It adds to richness of the text.

I think this kind of love follows my tendency to picture everything I think. I create images of every single thing I do. This is part of a huge reason why I chose Civil engineering. I like to see and imagine what I think/do. Bringing this idea to my love for physical books, I like to see the words on the paper which help me construct the image. Its wonderful that we all subconsciously do it.

I realised that some times we tend not to pay attention to these images. Try looking consciously for these images, often. You will find that it helps make life more colourful in some way!

Books, they keep me healthy! Let the words always create images and expand your horizon of thinking. Let it make your life bigger and better.

Believing

I saw this kid on the bus today. She was a tiny little ball of pink! Hair adorned with glittery clips and ended in pigtails. Such an adorable sight. I was making weird faces at her and keeping her entertained while she was undertaking the huge task of balancing.

She was travelling with her dad. He was holding on of those tall umbrellas and standing. She tried a lot of bars to hold before she decided her dads umbrella was the best option. She held onto it with both her miniature hands and laughed her way.

She got off a few stops before me and waved a lovely farewell. It struck me how she believed that umbrella to be her best option. In reality it was an unstable option because her dad was holding it. If he let go off the umbrella there goes the balance. Something she was unaware of. All she knew was that it was close to her and it was viable to hold.

How many of us have such beliefs like that. We take the best option in front of us, trust in it and give it our best shot! Just because thats the best option. Who knows whats the reality? Better yet what is 'reality'?

And we close!

One hell of a 4 months!

It ended a couple of hours back. The crazy submissions and projects. Crazy friends. Everything.

It will take a while for the system to understand that no assignment is due the next morning. No tests are coming the next week. And no reports are due in the next month.

Its going to be a get used to truth day and lazy time.

ZzzzZZZzzzz

See you on the other side, Mr.Structure

Do spare me for going on and on about exams. My life will revolve around them till the next two days. I had a concrete design exam today. Structures is one of the major components of Civil Engineering. And I am happy to announce this will be (touch wood) the last ever tryst with this component of civil.

I am the daughter of a Structures guy. He mastered in this particular component. Sadly none of the interest or talent got transferred into my cells. I don't despise the subject. I don't like it either.

Like everything else, I like the lighter side of things in Civil. Soil, Planning. I can only explain in person when I say lighter. Its a mind map of reasoning for why these make me more happy.

I hope for a lovely structure-less graduating year at NUS in the coming months. Time flew so quickly. Thoughts on that are soon to follow!

To my companion. You have inflicted a lot of pain. The soul was however, well seasoned by now to take it all in and let out a hearty burp. Ciao my friend!

Spirit of volunteering

I was listening to the radio today and a director of a NGO was live. The presenter asked him some basic questions about volunteering and how people responded to the idea on a long term.

A particular question was about how people feel the volunteer fatigue and if they really serve the true meaning of volunteering. His response was amazing. I assumed that people go for a way to spend time or make friends. Even worse are people who do that to cover some extra ground on their resume.

His view was that when this person has time to spare or some networking to do they could do it in any way they wished. Between going to a bar or playing tennis to meet people, they picked volunteering. Whatever their purpose seemed like, they fit in the 'I care' component into their objective. Some part of them wanted to change their community, do their part in giving a hand and help it grow.

He said that pretty much works. If you have enough in you to show that care and reach out, you are noble enough. You will change enough. You will leave with a bigger heart.

Great thought!

100 years of style

What a lovely montage! Its a bit hard to follow seeing 100 years of fashion and dance is squeezed into under 2 minutes. The second time you see it, its easier!

Its amazing how everything comes and goes in circles. You can see the repetition of numerous fashion ideas with slight touches from different seasons. That kind of applies to a lot of things in life as well. The environment has gone through multiple cycles of global warming and cooling - though the extent varies with every cycle. What  goes around, comes around.

Life lesson? Dont worry too much if you missed an opportunity for something else that you wanted more. It will come around in a different form if you really wanted/deserved it!

Grandma

A family usually comes with greatness from all its varied members. For one of those people from very big families like me, it is a learning in itself to maintain bonds with the entire age range. It differs from granddad, a strong man all of 87 to a little cousin sister, a 3 year old ball of glitter.

I was speaking to mom the other day about her mother - my grandmother. I cannot speak to her on the phone these days. Her hearing is not at its best years. A proud woman she refuses to use any hearing aid devices. We did not push on her. She chooses to listen to the little she can grasp and complete the rest of what we speak with her own whims. 

I admire her a lot. She brought up 4 daughters and a son all by herself, after granddad(thatha) passed away. They were teenagers all of 12 and 13 going through their own phases in life. She never went to any school but she managed to run thatha's business as much as she could. She provided them with the best of education and helped them settle down in their lives. 

She is always very forward in her thinking. One of the best things I admire about her is her denial of age. She would never own up that she is 80. Talk to her and she'll tell you how she is guessing she's around 65. This translates into a lot of humour in our everyday. She refers to people (her age) almost always as older people. In her eyes shes the youngest old person around! That does a lot of good to her self-confidence in my opinion. Imagine, she never has to worry about her age and the problems that come with it. 

You cannot catch her in dirty clothes or looking too pale. She would always prim herself up to look the best. She would never miss medicines or forget them. She plans her day around these tiny rituals to take care of herself. Though it is tough to stop her from eating a piece of that jalebi. 

I was feeling a bit nostalgic today about her and her house we spent summers in with all the other cousins. I can't wait to visit her in the next few months!