When The Muse Strikes

Over the Diwali break, I watched the film 'Stuart Little' on telly. A cute movie about a mouse who is adopted by a human family with a message that love transcends all - especially species! I however did not appreciate the film or its message. Reason? Just a week before Diwali, I chanced upon a similar rodent in the service area of my home. And let me tell you, these mice are far from being the friendly, eager-to-please critters that Stuart is.


Naturally I lost all sleep after I saw the mouse run and take cover behind my washing machine. All windows in the house were immediately shut. All the rooms were blockaded and the service area contained. Or so we thought. The next morning my husband woke me up with - 'Its there. Behind the microwave'.

'Oh no! What shall we do?!'. It was as if we were being held at gun point by robbers.

'Dont worry' soothed my husband. 'When the maid comes, I will ask her to drive it away'.

So much for my knight in shining armour I thought wryly.

Later that day, my husband called me at work and announced triumphantly on the phone 'The house is mouse free'

'Yay! How did you manage to do that?'

'Well, I asked the maid to move the crockery shelf. And he just leaped out from behind it and started running....'

'Did you kill it?!'

'No! He was too fast' (A likely story. My husband couldn't hurt a fly. Even if the fly was hurting him)

The long and short of it was that the rodent was driven out of the house with a stick and jhadoo. My husband breathed a sigh of relief and left on tour.

The next morning, I knew the mouse was back. There were droppings on the floor, it had knocked over a little cup in which I keep pins and rubber bands. Damn!

Another night went by with me barricaded inside my bedroom. But I had forgotten to shut the dining room window which was where the mouse had escaped from. And now seemed to be using it for entering the house. This time it even bit my kitchen mat to tatters. Enough was enough.

I called my husband and said 'Do something or I'm out of here! And dont tell me to set traps or use rat poison. I don't even want to see that ugly, dirty thing'

'Ok! Cool it. I will contact the pest control guy'.

So that evening the pest control guy, Sathya, arrived. He inspected the rooms and pointed out to me which ones the mouse had been in. Luckily it was only roaming around the dining room near the microwave. It had first gained entry by nibbling through the netlon we have put in the service area. And after it made its escape from the extermination drive initiated by husband dear, it found a new way in.

Sathya showed me a black line on the wall, right above the floor. 'That line shows the movements of the mouse. Since it is dirty, it leaves dirt marks and thats how we can find it' he said.

Really?! I soaked up all this information.How was he going to catch it? A trap? Poison (shudder! I cannot dispose mouse carcasses)

'No madam. Now a days there are new things called 'gum traps'. It is safer than regular traps which can injure the rat and spill its blood and make the area unsanitary. Poison could cause it to die and rot and leave a bad smell. Again there is risk of infection. The gum traps are the safest way to catch them'

The exact same gum trap we used

So what is a gum trap. It is essentially a note book (mean the paper note book not the computer) shaped article. When you open it (like a notebook), it reveals strong gum inside. It is placed at places frequented by the rat. When the rat moves over it, it gets stuck and remains stuck till you come find it. No blood and no rotting.You just fold the mouse in the trap and dispose it.Genius!

The traps were placed and I was advised to leave the window open.

Come morning, there was no sign of the intruder. Drat! Still, it was early days yet. Sathya said the traps could be placed and they were good for at least a year.

Luckily I did not have to wait a year. When I got home from work that evening, there it was! All stuck on the gum trap, just like Sathya had promised. How to dispose it? I was going nowhere near it. The apartment security guard obliged and my home was soon REALLY mouse free.

My joy knew no bounds. I had hated living all boxed up with windows and doors closed all the time. I called just about everybody I knew with the glad tidings.

All's well that end's well I thought. I became a staunch supporter of the gum trap. To me it was the next best thing after penicillin had been discovered.

Until last week. I opened the service area door and a black shadow darted past. 'EEEEEEkkkk' I screamed.

'What happend?' shouted my husband from the other room, ' Lizard?' (Yeah. I'm petrified of lizards. But after this mouse business, I think I'm learning to like the reptiles. They eat cockroaches and do not make a nuisance)

'Guess who is back?!'

'WHAT?!' asked my husband rushing to the service area. But the mouse was gone.

We've blocked the opening in the bitten netlon and put another gum trap in place. Doors and windows are closed in the evening. The guy has not re-appeared since that one time. But everytime I hear some sound, I start, thinking its the mouse who's back. Brings to mind that song 'Zara si aahat hoti hai, tho dil sochta hai. Kahin yeh WOH tho nahi!!'

I'm back to my favourite rant on gender stereotyping in the media. The Seagram ads are the latest on my hit list. Take a look at this one:


Seriously! A husband cannot remember his wife's name? And that can be excused as 'Men will be Men?"!! Even our male centric mythological texts did not let off Dushyant so lightly when he forgot his wife Shakuntala.

Here's another:



Man forgets his wedding anniversary and decides to buy a diamond ring as a peace offering. Bigger the offense, larger the size of the diamond.  After all, who needs to remember trivial stuff in life like a wife and marriage! Grrrrr. And when they do, they fall back on the old stereotype of diamonds being a girl's best friend. Shut the woman up with a shiny rock.

And yet another:

I'm spending Diwali in the city that symbolises 'home' to me - Hyderabad. I had my schooling here and the beginning years of my professional life. In my experience, its a great place to be. The city is bursting at its seams now, has perennial water shortage and terrible, terrible traffic. And yet, the madness seems to reach out to embrace me, making me feel more included and wanted than the place which I have made my home these days.

Sarojini Devi Road, (known as 'Oxford Street' in British Times) in Secunderabad has always been busy. Even way back in 1985, when my family first moved here, it was busy little road. On one end of this road was Sangeet, one of the few movie theatres that screened English movies and at the other end was the famed Paradise restaurant, arguably the best biryani place in the 'twin cities'.

Twenty six years down the road (pardon the pun!), so much has changed while some things have remained just the same.

Sangeet before demolition. Source: The Hindu

Sangeet theatre is a thing of the past. Demolished to make way for a multiplex I'm told. It was a sad day when I heard the news. So many wonderful movies and memories are associated with Sangeet. Watching 'Rear Window', 'Vertigo', 'The Man Who Knew Too Much' with my dad, a devoted fan of Hitchcock. Being taken from school - located just a stone's throw away - to see 'Ten Commandments'. The timings at Sangeet were unique. Three main shows at 4pm, 6pm and 9pm. And two other shows - a morning show at 9.45 am and a matinee at 1.45pm. Balcony tickets were Rs. 6 and stall tickets were Rs. 5. And I remember how we mourned when the fare was raised by 50p.

Old photo of my school. Source: The Hindu

The next wonderful building on that road is of course my alma mater, St. Ann's. I have spent some of the best years of my life here. Technically, the school spans the space between Sarojini Devi Road and Sardar Patel Road. And I would prefer to take Sardar Patel Road as it was less crowded. I walked to school for the most part and later in high school, I cycled over. The school has also not been spared in the passage of time. In my day, one had a clear view of the two main school blocks from the road itself. During sports day, we used to have passers by and fellas climb and perch on the compound wall to witness the events. Now a new building has come up inside, presumably to accommodate more students, which totally blocks the view.

Ajanta theatre has been demolished. I remember a rumour that a fan fell on the head of some hapless viewer in Ajanta. And I used to tell the ticket seller not to give me seats directly under the fan! Some of the biggest hits of my time played at Ajanta. Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar, Dil Hai Ki Manta Nahi.... Now it is just an empty spot overgrown with weeds, awaiting a new lease of life.

The red brick Methodist church at the turning near St. Patrick's School, originally built in 1882, has been demolished. A large modern building built in its place invites the devout for worship these days and goes by the name of New Millenium Methodist Church. Possibly the new building came up in the year 2001. I've looked for a picture of the old church on the net but regretfully could not find it. Whatever reason the church authorities had for demolishing the red brick church, I miss it and the new glass, steel and concrete structure that has taken its place just does not evoke the same sense of history.

Amidst all these changes, few things remain re-assuringly unchanged. Like the fruit stall opposite St. Mary's Church, where the vendor always greets you with a warm 'salaamalaikum'. Or S. Mohammad Ali and Sons who rents out tents, utensils and furniture. The board proclaiming their name, notes the date of establishment as 1899. During my time, the owner's daughter studied in my school. So we got props for our drama competitions free!

Basera Hotel

Basera Hotel is still going strong. It has a fancy new restaurant called 'Pickles'. Back then, it had two restaurants called 'Daawat' and 'Mehfil'. One was more 'junta' and the other more sophisticated. Apparently, Talat Aziz used to sing at Mehfil. I still remember one hilarious incident when my family and I had gone for lunch to Basera. My poor dad, unable to decipher the androgynous figure drawn outside the toilet door, walked into the ladies toilet, even as waiters rushed to stop him. During our next visit, we saw that the androgynous figure sported a necklace and teased dad that they had done it because of him.

A view of Oxford Street (S.D.Road) in 1890 Source: Hyderabad Once Upon A Time

In August this year, as part of Madras Week, there was a heritage walk on Mount Road titled 'The Mount Road Magnates'. Sarojini Devi Road in Secunderabad is as rich in history and buildings like those I've described above.  Others like the Deccan Chronicle Office, St. Mary's Church, are all historical buildings in their own right. I wonder if there is any group in the twin cities that looks at preserving and promoting its  culture and history?

These are just some wandering thoughts that came to mind as I walked down Sarojini Devi Road today and revisited my childhood. A sense of gratitude to have wonderful memories to share and a sense of loss at how my green valley has changed. 

So what's the story behind the name your pet carries?

Being a Hindu, I'm programmed to believe in the concept of rebirth. Apart from that, it gives me solace to think that if things did not work out for me in this life, they will in another. I'm a staunch believer in second chances - even (or is it especially) when they transcend lives.

So if I was to be reborn, what would I want to be born as? Not that these choices are in our hands really. But I like to think about it - especially when I'm dead beat or flying around getting work done and trying to race against time.

If I had a chance at rebirth, I think I'd like to be born as a water buffalo.You think thats funny? The two others that I mentioned it to this last week also thought it was hilarious.

But if you think about it carefully, its really a very good choice for a harried, always-on-my-feet, woman-of-the-21st-century, slave to time like me.

The Bubalus bubalis is a noble creature. In my opinion, it is the epitome of relaxation and thoughtfulness, bordering Nirvana. Just picture it, sitting in muddy water, black hide glistening in the sun, swishing flies with its tail, chewing the cud and contemplating, with half open eyes, the world as it whizzes past. Now contrast this picture with the daily routine of any working woman. Wake up to the sound of an alarm, rush about preparing breakfast, lunch, braving traffic and getting to work on time in a photo finish. Then there is the roller coaster ride of dealing with work issues for at least 8 hours. And if you're a mom, then you can multiply this entire effort by two.

Don't you feel jealous? Wouldn't you want to be this animal? What does the world expect from a buffalo really? Practically nothing. Ok, maybe a couple of litres of rich milk a day. Permit a human to tug at your privates a couple of times a day. Ok, maybe thats a tad undignified. Let the passing bird sit on your broad back and pick worms off your skin. Thats as symbiotic a relationship as any! Oh and ignore the many insults and curses that use you as a reference point - In Hindi: Kala akshar bhains barabar (to indicate ignorance) or bhains ke aagey been bajana (to indicate that you have no appreciation of finer things). In Tamil: 'Yerumamaadu!' - a curse to indicate girth and immovability, usually uttered in jam packed buses and trains.

That apart, there's really nothing to complain about now is there? Its a life of self actualisation.

www.cartoonstock.com

Yes, I'd like to be reborn as a water buffalo. With curly horns - as opposed to the long straight ones. A bit of vanity maybe, but I think the curly ones look cuter!

So tell me, if you had the chance to be reborn, what would you want to be born as? Leave your thoughts in the comment box. And feel free to tag others on this topic if you like. Do let me know if you do, so I could also read it.

Hi all! Yes, Yes, I've beem MIA for a few weeks. Usual story - busy....er...actually no. Just could not find the motivation to write. :((

Soulmates?

Discovered a channel called 'Love CBS' on my Reliance Big TV connection and came upon an interesting tidbit of information on a show called 'The Insider'. Basically it gives the low down and dirt on the lives of Hollywood celebs. 'Timepass' as my friends would say. Now I came across this bit of news which made me sit up and take notice.

An actor by the name of Doug Hutchison - aged 51 - recently tied the knot with a girl named Courtney Stodden - aged.....hold your breath...16!!! Child marriage is alive and well people! And seems to be vacationing in America by the looks of this piece of info.

So who are these people? What is their claim to fame?

Dough Hutchison is a character actor seen in movies like The Green Mile and television shows like Lost and The X Files. I seem to recollect seeing him in this last one. I was a big fan of the X Files. Do any of you remember the episode about a guy who ate human livers? If you do, you know who this guy is.

The sweet sixteen lady, Courtney claims to be a 'country' singer and was an erstwhile Miss Teen USA contestant. Now if you ask me, the girl does not look 16. She looks at least 25. And a typical bleached blonde with a great bod (and probably an empty head). I do not like saying uncharitable things about my sex, but I'm going to go out on a limb here. She looks like a sluttified version of Paris Hilton - who in my not-so-important-opinion is already scraping rock  bottom.

So how did they meet? At some theatre workshop organised by Hutchison and thats when love bloomed. The man apparently called up the girl's mother to ask permission to court / date / see her underage daughter. So it would appear that this whole thing happened with the blessing of the mother. In fact, news reports say that the marriage took place with 'parental consent'.

Jokes apart, the news made me feel rather nauseated. I know its a cliche - but the guy is old enough to be her father! And in some cultures, her grandfather!!! One wonders naturally, what brought them together? Lets try a few theories on for size:

1. They love each other (Yawn!): Well if you watch their TV interviews, they keep nuzzling each other, holding hands and saying things like 'She was a virgin. I only wish I was also a virgin'.

2. Its about sex and machismo (Now you're talking!): He's 51. Probably viagra dependent. She's young and nubile and er...a virgin. In some cultures, it is believed that sex with a virgin can cure all manner of sexual disorders.Then there's pedophilia of course.

2.1 Take your supposed star crossed lovers story to the media, get people (and bored bloggers like me) to sit up and take notice. Next thing you know, you got a reality show with top ratings (who doesn't like a bit of voyeurism) and rake in the moolah!

My money's on Theory no. 2.1 people.

While these two wax eloquent on various channels about how their media appearances can be "a forum to hopefully help people change their perspective and expand their minds about love", I can't help thinking about my own country. Marriage at 16 is not something that is unusual here, particularly in states like Rajasthan and Bihar. In fact, girls get married younger than that. It is universally recognised to be one of the stumbling blocks in women's development and emancipation. But then again, India has a long way to go before we can be really a 'developed society'.

But how does one explain the same thing happening in western - and supposedly more 'developed' societies? Are 16 year olds really that different? Are they not the same hormone affected teens, searching for their identities and sense of self within their respective cultural contexts? Is 16 really a permissable age of marriage?

After the tour of the Agra Fort, we opted for an early lunch. By 1pm we were done and not sure what to do next. The Taj Mahal was our final destination before we headed back to the railway station to board our return train at 6.30pm. Even if we pored over every nook and cranny at the Taj, we were sure it would not take 5 hours. How to kill time?

Enter Babloo, our taxi driver.

'Would you like to see the Mini Taj?' he asked us.

That piqued our interest. First Baby Taj, now Mini Taj? How many Tajs were there?

'Well actually madam, the real Taj is open only from 6am to 6pm. The Mini Taj can be viewed at anytime. Especially at night, during rainy season etc'. Made sense. Where was this midget doppelganger?

'Over at the Meena Bazar' said Babloo. That sounded very romantic. I immediately had visions of quaint shops and cobbled streets selling lovely trinkets....all the Mughal stereotypes I had seen in Bollywood films rushed into my mind.

'Ok. Lets go'

A while later, Babloo brought the taxi to a halt in a small, dirty quadrangle with dotted with small shops and spare parts of vehicles strewn about.

'What are we doing here?' we asked.

'Madam, this is Meena Bazar. You go there, you can see the Mini Taj. I don't take any commission or anything. If you like anything, you can also buy it.' The sign above the shop over yonder read 'Gangotri: U.P.Handloom'. A gentleman emerged and beckoned us in.

With the dawning realisation that we stood at the precipice of a con job, we moved cautiously towards the shop. There was really very little else we could do. The gentleman beamed at us and ushered us in.

'We came to see the Mini Taj' we said feeling more idiotic by the minute. Nodding, the man proceeded to shut the shop door. He pointed at the glass cupboard that stood behind us. As we turned, he turned off all the lights and then turned on the cupboard lights.

As we stood transfixed, red, blue, green lights started dancing from inside the belly of a four feet high white marble replica of the Taj Mahal.

'People from all over the world come to see the Taj Mahal. This Taj Mahal is made of 10kgs of marble (I don't remember. It could have been more), was made by 20 sculptors (again, I could be wrong), took 7 months to make and costs 6 lakhs. It is made of pure white marble. See the light coming from inside? Fake white marble is opaque. Real white marble is translucent and glows when light from inside. This is the Mini Taj'.

As the shop lights came back on, we picked our jaws off the floor and looked apprehensively at the shop guy. What next?

'Please come over here sister' he said, leading us to the merchandise displayed at the opposite side. 'What would you like to see? Saris? Bedsheets, footwear? We have saris made of jute, banana fibre and crush proof silk'

As if under a spell, we moved towards to the other side where the man proceeded to show us sari after sari despite our entreaties that we were not interested in seeing or buying anything. But he was determined. 'How about seeing some bedsheets then? We have some very good ones. We have a unique product which is made right here in Agra by the inmates of the Agra Jail -the 'Mosquito Repellent Bedsheets'.

Here is where we made a grave error. S, whose home had a mosquito problem, showed a faint interest. Determined salesman that he was, the shop guy latched on to this smidgen of interest. Out came the sheets in bright yellow and red/brown floral patterns. And I don't know how it came about, but S ended up purchasing two bedsheets.

I wandered away from that counter towards the footwear section. Having witnessed the sale of the bedsheets, the salesman here pounced on me hoping to sell me footwear. He showed me some chappals and said that the leather was so good that it repelled insects, bugs and lizards. I suppose he thought that if mosquitoes worked on one sucker, insects and bugs might work on another. But he went too far with the lizards. Even I didn't buy that.

S had buyer's regret written all over her as we stepped out of the shop. 'I don't like these sheets! They're so loud and ugly!'. I simply collapsed in shrieks of laughter. Were there ever two bigger idiots than us this side of the Vindhyas?(considering we lived on one side and were visiting the other, I think we had the subcontinent pretty much covered)

I have since recounted this episode to several people. It gets funnier with each telling. Its been three months since our trip. Time enough to test the world famous, cost effective and eco friendly mosquito repelling sheets. S says that they work. But then she would wouldn't she?!