The Prowler and the Flowergirl

The Prowler, as has been documented on this page before, is so called because of his inclination to prowl about his cage, leaving no nook uninspected or cranny unvisited. He likes to creep up on unsuspecting inmates and take a good long look at their monitors, all in the name of ‘just doing his job’ and ensuring that the troops have their noses to the grindstone every second of the company’s time. I often think he must wear rubber-soled shoes since I am never able to hear him when he comes for his daily look-see at my monitor. To date he has caught me reading newspapers, chatting with friends, posting comments on fb, viewing a slideshow of the sexiest man in the world and doubtless blogging as well. And I usually get a frown and a stern disapproving look for my pains. But yesterday, by means of the simple act of agreeing to present flowers to a guest at a company function, I have been ejected from his hit list and am now sufficiently well entrenched in his good books that I even get a goofy smile in passing. Strange indeed are the ways of men.

Missing...

...Madrasgirl. The day is rather dreary without her.

Just another day at the office

serious correspondence
silly fwds
prowling bosses
mindnumbing microbes
execrable coffee
chatty collegues
office intrigues
fantastic food
match-making darlings
outrageous ideas
impossible deadlines
the home bell

Looking forward to...

A romp with Leo
My evening cup of coffee
A good chat with my soon-to-be-married friend
Three lovely new books just waiting to be read

Ah bliss!

The four-day weekend

I spent the last four days in airports, cars and in Kanyakumari. Bless my Dad for his conferences. That seems to be the only way I get to go anywhere nice (work-related travel is always to some god forsaken medical college). So we flew to Trivandrum and drove down to Kanyakumari from there. It takes a full 3.5 hours of bouncing along dirt tracks passing themselves off as national highways, dodging cycles and lorries (often at the same time), being shaken up till your fillings fall off in deeply rutted roads, and being utterly charmed by the landscape to reach KK. Honestly they should just make the whole of Kerala and its border with TN a national park and tear down all the buildings (every single one of them an eyesore) and just let things be.
In KK we stayed at the Tamilnadu Hotel, which is right next to the beach. It had been recently spruced up because the CM was supposed to make a visit there but in the end he cancelled. So the rooms were neat and clean, plasma tv on the walls and belgian mirrors everywhere. But somehow this sprucing up didnt extend to proper running water in the bathroom. My Dad had a daily struggle with the man at Reception/Housekeeping trying to get them to turn the motor on; somehow I dont think he quite succeeded in convincing him (the Reception man) that things like having a bath everyday was a part of most people's daily routine.
Despite my Dad's conference we managed to see Padmanabapuram Palace (lovely place; surprisingly well maintained), Vivekananda Rock and Thiruvalluvar's Statue (overrated), Vattakottai (sweet little fort but surely forts were not so completely devoid of internal structures?), the Church of Our Lady of Ransom (white - by Berger Paints - Gothic church right on the beach, rather like icing on a cake), Kamaraj Memorial (nice photos but no dates), Gandhi Memorial (nothing new unfortunately), some waterfall - cant remember its name (very inviting looking, to stand under I mean, not to jump off) . I also managed to wake up early enough to walk up to the View Tower and see the sun rise (nice but couldnt see the 'plop' as my Dad calls it when the sun emerges from the sea).
As always when I am outside Madras, I was struck by how different culturally the rest of TN is. People seem more 'Tamil" here; for one thing, their language is purer and more musical that the variety spoken in Madras. They are also more gentle and brutal at the same time. Hard to explain really but its rural good manners, honesty and helpfulness mixed with an extraordinary close-mindedness and tolerance of and capacity for violence. Maybe Sherlock Holmes is right: villages are more scary places than cities.

Letting Go

Last week I fought with two of my closest friends. Both fights needless to say were deeply upsetting. Sometimes I have to wonder if its worth the pain honestly. Why not just put up with their flaws and thoughtless behaviour (as I see it)? When it comes right down to it, I love them both dearly and couldn't imagine life without them. But it appears that in the second case there is a real chance of our relationship just fading away. Awful awful thought.
Anyway, the first fight helped clear the air a bit and also I think made the two of us closer. The second fight was rather different. I dont usually fight with this friend because we think alike on so many things and in some ways I think this fight hurts more because of that. It was all about her making time for me and she didn't feel that there was any lapse in that department. To be fair to her, she has a boyfriend now, who I suppose is higher on her list of priorities, but I didn't ever imagine that she would be the kind of person to forget her friends for that reason. After all I've known her for close to 20 years. But one lives and learns. After a lot of thought I realised that no true relationship can be created or maintained by force. So I am letting go. If my friend ever needs me I am there but otherwise I am maintaining a low profile. Policy decision.
I dont know why I am sharing this really since even writing about it is upsetting. But maybe one day I can read this again and be better able to understand myself and the nature of relationships. I hope!

New Beginnings

I cant believe that I haven't blogged since September! Well, actually I can but what I mean is why didn't I? Its not like nothing happened in my life or that I decided not to share my thoughts. Just that one's mood is such a capricious thing.

Anyway, to New Beginnings!