Bella Italia!

Not the most original of titles I know but I couldn’t think of a truer one. Such a gorgeous, mouth-wateringly beautiful, perpetually sunny (in outlook even if not in actual weather), incurably romantic, warm, friendly country. The only bad thing I can think of to say about it is that for some inexplicable reason they have installed Indian style toilets in some of their railway stations. Like I said, inexplicable.
It would take too much time, not to mention effort, to write about every single thing my Dad and I saw and did there, so here’s a smallish, in-a-nutshell type write-up of our experiences.
Milan
Milan is the most obviously modern of the cities we visited. Touristy? Not a chance! The Lombards don’t seem to have been very interested in preserving all those red-tiled, sloping roofed, yellow and terracotta painted houses that are standard in so many other cities and villages in Italy. Or maybe they never existed in this area. But they still have enough history and art to keep one well-occupied. The highlights of our stay there were of course The Last Supper (L’Ultimo Cena); the Poldi Pezzoli Museum, which is actually the jewel-like house of a rich collector, filled with amazing pieces of art and furniture; the Galleria Vittorio Emmanuele II, easily one of the most beautiful shopping areas in the world; two Indian restaurants (this one is strictly for my Dad); and the very friendly people – the super helpful staff of the small student-heavy café in the Brera Art School, who sang us out of the café, and an adorable minder/security person in Poldi Pezzoli, who tried to explain to me that the locket-like rings on display used to contain poison to finish off people.
Lake Como
It’s so beautiful, even with the tourist hordes milling around, you suddenly realize why its so fabulous to be wealthy – you could afford endless holidays here. The lake is Y shaped with mountains all around and small villages like Como, Bellagio, Menaggio dotted along the shore. We took the ferry from Como and had lunch in Bellagio. I kept a sharp eye out for George Clooney – among the sailboats, the sunbathers, the restaurants, shops, but the man was elusive (he was filming in the US; what a loser). So clearly I need to go back there again.
Florence
Its all just too much – too beautiful, too romantic, too many churches, too much art and history. These guys are just too blessed. I especially loved the daily walk past Santa Croce, the surprisingly fast-flowing Arno river and the picturesqueness of peeling plaster and gently fading curtains. Florence also has heaps of fascinating shops selling gloves, hats, tapestry, rugs, bags, silks, stationery, carved wooden dolls. A lovely lovely walking city.
Pisa
In the Field of Miracles, the first thing you see is the Baptistry, which is round and solid. Then you notice the graceful cathedral. Only then do you see the friendly tower, leaning out to say hello to you. It is more cute than impressive. There’s a path beside selling all manner of tourist knickknacks, which is rather fun (since most of the glasses, bottles, chinaware, figurines etc. lean).
Siena
Florentines seem to love this place I could see why. Its beautiful, friendly, decent sized and most important of all not that big on the tourist map, so it feels more like a normal city where people have normal jobs, rather than a city which lives only because of tourism (which unfortunately Florence does feel like from time to time). Wonderful shell-shaped square on which the Palio is run, stunning views from the bell tower, gorgeous wall paintings in the Civic Museum, black-and-white churches with beyond belief floor art and absolutely delicious gelato (to be fair, this is true of all of Italy), I loved to visit Siena again any time.
Venice
Everyone knows what Venice is like. Its sometimes hard to believe such a place even exists. It’s a fairytale. Like Bruges. By the end of our visit, even a non-swimmer like me thought that maybe the water wasn’t something to be feared. How much art and history is crammed into this tiny group of islands! Its endlessly inspiring; even aqua alta is somehow magical and fun (as opposed to worrisome and hideously expensive when the same thing happens in one’s basement). Churches, galleries, bridges, gondolas, glass, lace, masks……there’s so much to see and do. And even when you’re wandering around (lost), there’s always something round the corner the makes all the walking completely worthwhile. Sigh.
Padua
What a nice cheerful little university town this is, with students whizzing by on their bikes. Makes one almost want to be a student here. My Dad was especially thrilled because we got to see the Anatomy Theatre, which is this beautiful gothic hall filled with concentric gallery-type seats, even though we’d arrived too late for the last tour. So we sweet-talked to girl in charge into letting us take a quick peek. Well worth it. What was even more worth the trip was the Scrovegni Chapel, whose walls and ceiling Giotto had painted. Made me almost want to be a Christian 
Vicenza
I love love love the name. So musical and romantic. The town has so much laid-back charm. Its all those Palladian buildings and villas. Somehow you don’t want to rush to do anything. The Teatro Olympico was spectacular. If I saw a play there I think I’d die happy.
Verona
OK there’s absolutely nothing wrong with Verona. Its got broad streets, lots of public spaces, handsome buildings and a Roman arena to boot. Its also got Juliet’s house (apparently). I’m enough of a cynic to not think much of that. But my Dad enjoyed it – the silly messages on the walls, the endless tat sold in shops, all the heart-shaped this and true love-related that. Made me want to reach for the Madonna and Child!
Right. So that’s the end of this very long post. So, who wants to plan a trip to Italy sometime? Count me in!

Quiz Show

A couple of weeks back a colleague from the office and I decided to go as a team to a quiz contest organised by the British Council as part of its World Book Day celebrations. Needless to say we both thought we would 'do very well'. Did you base this on any good reason or was it just plain arrogance, I hear you ask. Well the theme of the quiz was British Books and Movies. So now you understand that if I dont do well in this, well I'm never going to succeed in anything in life.
The quiz was fun though a bit nerve-wracking at times. I liked the college studenty-silly-geeky section of the participants -- because we clearly knew a lot more about the subject than them. Its these professional quiz goers who kind of ruined it for us. I felt like those Brits in Chariots of Fire. They were really just college students, lords and vicars who ran part-time; as a hobby. And when they got to the Olympics, they came face to face with these grim Americans who were professional athletes, all focused on training and diet and whatnot. They sort of destroyed the whole spirit of the thing by taking it all far too seriously. And it was the same with us, dear reader. These guys just learn facts. They dont really know the answer (like the guy in Slumdog Millionaire says), they just learn trivia. Thats the only way you could get Richard and David Attenburgh mixed up.
Anyway, all things considered, third place wasnt bad. Second was realistic actually but we were undone by a bit a bad luck with the questions in the last round. Still, cant complain. Got a Landmark voucher for our pains and some more experience under our belt.

Easter in the hills

Easter is supposed to be a time of hope. Of resurrection and a new lease on life. So in this blog about my long Easter weekend in Ooty, you’re going to hear only positive things. (This is going to be a short blog, obviously.)
Gorgeous misty blue mountains…timeless, mysterious, eucalyptus
Lovely quaint English names (everyone knows I’m an Anglophile so that shouldn’t come as a surprise)
Jacaranda! Graceful branches, purple flowers against a blue and white sky….bliss!
Drive down via Kothagiri, how could I have not known just how spectacular tea estates could be?
The cool, keen mountain air that clears the head keeps everyone moving
Drinks and lunch at the Taj Savoy, lush lawn, white-painted wooden panes, antique furniture, ballroom…I’m definitely staying there next time!
Mostly good-natured nephew, with a vocabulary that expands right in front of your eyes
Home-made chocolates, I now think of them as being too sweet but that’s all part of their charm
Coming back home to my bathroom…that’s the best part of going away

In the land of Balle Balle

Punjab. What began life as a trip to Delhi to promote mouldy medical books became a road trip across Punjab to promote said books (some things in life dont change). So three loud, boistrous Delhi sales guys and one bemused non-hindi/punjabi speaking editor visited one town and five different cities in as many days --
Ambala (Definitely a town, this one; cant really say much about it since I only saw it late at night when I was too sleepy and tired to look around much. Oh yes, we had cheese toast and north indian coffee for breakfast. Rather yumm.)
Amritsar (Unbelievable. This is the city that has the Golden Temple???? How can the people here display such artistry, sensitivity and CLEANLINESS inside a temple and then live in an utter dump outside?? How??? Have they got a collective split personality?? And they still have cycle rickshaws, that feel like they are going to topple anytime!!!! OK, I'll calm down. Also went to the Pakisthan border to witness a completely juvenile show of might/patriotism/whatever. Poor Pakisthanis. We keep playing boring hindi songs at the border. No wonder they hate us. Anything else..... ah yes, had completely divine, melt-in-your-mouth paneer. Sigh!)
Jalandhar (Something approaching modern civilisation. Felt a bit queasy though. And oh yes, visited a college called Lovely Professional University - I kid you not!)
Ludhiana (I'd been told that this was the Mercedes capital of India, which was quite strange because I saw only one Merc. Maybe I was just in the wrong part of town? No butter chicken here. Maggie noodles rules! And now I understand why people use cycle rickshaws - when an auto hits a bump in the road it feels like its entire hind quarters is going to fall off. Also understand why north indians are so loud - the autos are deafening.)
Patiala (Finally a city with traffic lights. And parks. Fancy that! No Patiala peg for me though. Stayed at a non-smoking, non-drinking, non-meat, non-clean, nonsense hotel. Couldnt wait to leave.)
Chandigarh (I really really like this place. Its well laid out, green, full of blossoming flowers and is altogether so cosmopolitan you can forget you're in Punjab. Would go back there anytime!)
So when the sales guys asked me what I thought of the North, the kindest thing I could think of to say was that I was very glad I lived where I lived. And I really meant it. I am used to thinking of Madras as a fairly ugly, dirty, dusty, noisy place but now I realise that its squeaky clean and gentle and even sophisticated compared to what I saw in Punjab. Not to deride North Indians, I mean, clearly they like living the way they do, otherwise why put up with it. But give me the South anytime!

Smoke and Mirrors

I have racked my brains and reached into its farthest recesses and I still cant pinpoint what caused this great desire to acquire ‘smokey eyes’. I seem to have developed into one of those people who, once they take an idea into their heads, must instantly rush about till they have achieved their objective, only to discard the whole thing a month later. Thus it was with eBay, thus it probably will be with scores of other things.

So first step, I googled the subject and ended up watching a YouTube video on how it was done (9 minutes of company time, while keeping an eye out for the Prowler – I must say knowing that he can pop up suddenly does add a certain frisson to my non-office related activities). Next step, a visit to my local Health & Glow, which yielded only a kohl pencil and a mascara that cost me an arm and a leg. At the first trial of my newly acquired weapons the result was somewhat disappointing: far from appearing sexy and mysterious, I looked like a drag queen. Not so said others who had more experience in these matters. So I decided to up the stakes and go to Lifestyle. The cosmetics salespeople there are amazing. Just wont take no for an answer. I think my boss should hire them to sell books. Thirty minutes with them and I couldn’t recognize myself. My sister said I looked like a Goth. I think she was being polite. ‘Fright’ would be a more accurate word. With the eyeliner, mascara, silver eyeshadow, black eyeshadow, foundation and lip gloss I’d morphed into someone else – a sort of cross between a bat and vampire. But with time, I began to get used to the look (adaptation is after all the key to the survival of the human race) and loaded down with more products than I will ever use in my life, I put my sunglasses on and went home.

This morning I woke up at 8:15 and even though I rushed through my usual activities I didn’t have time to do more than just apply some eyeliner. And I don’t see my time situation getting any better. So much for my new smokey eyes. When I first told my friends about this new obsession all of them gave me various bits of advice but the one that I never heeded was probably the best of all, saving as it did both time and money. I should have just got Orange Belt to give me a black eye instead.

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.