Happy New Year

Another year comes to an end, and what a wonderful year it was. 2007 began with the most important moment of our lives; our wedding. The ceremony and the reception that followed couldn't have been more perfect. Our relatives and friends had fun, and I gracefully eased into the role of coy (atleast i tried) bride, after months of adorning the mantle of "bridezilla".

The ceremony went without a hitch. The flower girls walked ahead of me like veterans, carrying their tiny flower baskets, wearing adorable outfits. The family choir gave the ceremony that special touch, as did the pastor who gave us a sermon we'd all remember forever. We did have our share of minor bloopers, even though I didn't trip and fall (courtsey: high heels and heavy saree). I was the smiling bride, who'd forgotten to cover her head (not so coy was I?), and when it was time to place the manthrakodi on my head, Ro merely passed it on to his sister. Traditionally, the manthrakodi saree is placed on the bride's head to symbolize the groom's promise of always clothing his wife. Now that his sister had performed that task, we often joke about how clothing me is now her responsibility.

The reception that followed was as much fun, despite having to pose for a zillion photographs with a lot of people we didn't know. Every smile and frown (they didn't make it to the album ofcourse) was captured, and it felt like we were being mobbed by the paparazzi.

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The year that followed went by so quickly. Three weeks in India, and we were off to London. From being used to the Chennai heat, I suddenly found myself in snowy UK. Covered up in thermals, sweaters, gloves, and a heavy coat (just me, not Ro), we toured London, before eventually settling down in a comfortable apartment, where I began my culinary experiments. We were touristy in London, even venturing out to nearby holiday spots. We played hosts to our parents, made new friends, and before we knew it, it was time to head back, and our family was getting bigger.

How has life changed otherwise? Last year this time, I was announcing to my parents that this year i'd be out on New Year's eve, partying with Ro. Little did I know then that I'd be home, enjoying my expanding belly, preparing for one of the biggest changes in my life.

Truly, what a wonderful year it has been!

After a long slumber

The "ocassionally i come alive" blog promises to be "completely inactive", a month from now. Atleast then I'd have legitimate excuses for not updating my (errm..our) blog. I'm being promised sleepless, tiring nights, and a lot of nappy changes. Strangely enough, despite them, I'm looking forward to holding the little one. And yes, if I might be honest, I'm looking forward to having the baby out, so I can feel the "lightness" that many romanticise.

The pregnancy has been both good and bad, but mostly wonderful. From being someone who was mortally afraid of the needle, I now manage some small talk with the technician, while he retrieves vials of blood from my arm. I have discovered new methods of dealing with my morning sickness (something that never limited itself to my mornings alone during the first three months). Then there was an aversion to certain foods, that was soon taken over by these insatiable hunger pangs. So that meant, a sensible diet (most of the time), walks (most of the time), and those seemingly easy antenatal exercises (well...ocassionally). The rest of the time, I merely read, watch re-runs of sitcoms, catch up with the latest flicks (nothing scary or emotionally disturbing), and listen to a lot of music with the baby. Yes, the little one responds to music. A pretentious mother-to-be, I tried to get it interested in Baby Bach and Baby Mozart, only to give up when I felt excited flutters everytime Shakira danced to her "Hips don't lie." I'm also walking around feeling special (and who wouldn't) because the baby recognizes my voice.

Ro continues to display all the traits of being a wonderful father. He sings and talks to my active belly, and monitors much of what I watch and eat. He is also very tolerant towards to my changing moods. Yes, the hormonal changes make you either deliriously happy or irritably moody. However, it hasn't only been an expanding waistline, changing moods, lots of throwing up, and those annoying aches and pains (whoever knew of those painful, expanding ligaments along the hips)! Pregnancy came with its perks. The bigger the belly, the bigger the perks.

I began noticing these privileges on my flight back home. People weren't just throwing me friendly, interested smiles. They were also keen on making sure I was comfortable. So I could cut queues, expect to be seated immediately, and be pampered. This treatment got better once I was home. In addition to getting pampered at home, I could walk into any crowded room knowing someone would get up and offer me their seat. Even the long wait at the vodaphone outlet was cut short because a considerate employee wanted to spare me the wait. The hospitals were no less considerate. If there was a long queue for a blood test, and a longer one for a container to pee into (yeah, we pregnant women endure a lot of urine tests), I was allowed the privilege of breezing in and out (okay okay..waddling in and out), irrespective of how many were waiting.

If this was wonderful, it gets better. In India, neighbours and friends just need the whiff of a pregnant woman, so they can busy themselves in their kitchens to whip up meals. Yeah, for once, everyone is concerned about your cravings and not so much the calories. I'd just whisper, "I feel like eating a dosa today", and I'd be driving to a restaurant immediately, for my fill of dosas. A neighbour I was seeing for the first time made it a point of coming home everyday with something different to eat. Luckily I was well past all my aversions.

It's been an eventful 8 months, and now I eagerly await the arrival of my baby. I wonder if I'll be a good enough parent, but Dr Spocks assures me that all parents learn with experience. Life sure has changed a great deal, and promises to change even more. But I think I'm ready now, and I look forward to it.

Back at Home

Just feels like yesterday when we moved to London as newly weds. We found a spacious flat that would house future guests as well, and filled it up with everything we would need. The tube station was just across, and whatever we needed was just a station or two away. After a week of settling in, this new house eventually began to feel like home. I began my culinary experiments on patient Ro and our pots and pans, while Ro went to work. We travelled a bit, explored a lot of London, and spent several hours watching movies and enjoying sitcoms. And before I knew it, I was back in India, expecting our first child.

This move seemed to come abruptly, maybe because I wasn't really ready for it as yet. The experience as been bitter sweet, for though I was looking forward to being back home, I miss Ro and London. Friends ask me what I will miss most about London the most. "A lot of things", i answer. I will miss having high-speed inter connectivity, the ceremonious service at St Paul's Cathedral, Magic 105.4 radio, ancient buildings brimming with history, traveling on the tube, the library just across the road, parks with swans, ducks and horses, huge shopping malls, the fresh air, pedestrian paths, all those colorful flowers, polite bus drivers and postmen, the human statues and street performers at Covent Garden.......the list is endless.

However, despite everything I will miss, the chaos and commotion back home is quite the welcome sight. The sight of those muddy unkempt streets and the cows lazing on them oblivious to the honking traffic makes you realize you are finally where you belong; home. The familiar sounds of neighbours chatting, the clanking of pots being washed, the sweeeping of leaves outside, the chatty relatives and friends, the familiar aromas from the kitchen, and regional television brings about a certain "homey" feel that I missed for so long.
It sure is good to be back. Now for a two-month wait before Ro is back too!

One Night Of Hope

I'd be lying if i said I was a Joel Osteen fan. The name brought back distant memories of an unread book at home that someone had given Mom, but I had never heard his sermons. A devout Joyce Meyer loyalist (still am one), Ro introduced me to Joel Osteen a while ago, while we were flipping channels. Months later, we were at the Wembley Arena listening to the man, and what an inspirational moment it had been.

The trip to Wembley was tedious. We took three trains and walked 10 minutes to get to our well positioned seats (in front). The crowd trickled in gradually at first, and by 7.30, we had a packed auditorium filled with people from all nationalities. The show (is that what you call these events?) began with songs by the worship leaders from Osteen's Lakewood church. Singer Cindy charged the audience with her vocal range and heart felt lyrics. Everyone was at their feet singing along and clapping. Even the coy indulged in some foot tapping and mild dancing.

Before long the man we'd all been waiting for arrived on stage, amidst much clapping. What struck me most about him, was the joy he seemed to exude. He seemed happy and in peace, and so comfortable imparting that obvious that a lot of us had been so blinded by.

"The enemy isn't after our money or relationships. He is after our joy", he announced. It was about the right attitude, and I couldn't agree more. His sermon centered on praying for God's favor, and he explained it with a series of light hearted anecdotes. "God wants to be involved in your every day lives", he assured us. So if you needed guidance or merely space to park your car, all you needed to do was pray. These prayers wouldn't always be answered he said, but then we could always praise him for the fact that we were well, healthy and able to walk. Key was in never forgetting to praise God and enjoy all his blessings. Almost immediately all i felt was blessed, because there was so much to be thankful for.

Interspersed with more songs, a testimony by his mother, a talk by his wife, a verse by his song, and a song by his 6-yr-old daughter, the event ended on a positive note. We prayed, we sang, we listened, and we left feeling positive. Truly an event worth being part off.

Wicked, the musical

After numerous attempts at recovering from a bad case of writer's block, i've finally returned. Through this period, Ro was undeniably supportive, given that he was struck by the disease as well. Infectious i guess.

We've both been well, and we were leading a pampered existence for as long as my parents were here. A week after their return to Chennai, we are reeling over the fact that life is back to normal, and reminicing about the fun things we did while they were here. On of those fun things, was a broadway musical, Wicked.

When we got to the theater, we were welcomed to the sight of some elaborate sets. A dragon on talk, machinery on either side, and the map of Oz in the center.

While the audience crowded the theater looking for seats, excited children they were accompanying, and the right spot for a picture, we sat patiently, waiting for the show to begin. And almost immediately, the music came on and this elaborate set came to life. A group of monkeys (actors ofcourse) climbed down the rusty stairs, pulled up the map of Oz, and welcomed us into the world of Wicked.

"Let us be glad

Let us be grateful

Let us rejoicify that goodness could subdue

The wicked workings of you know who..."

..sang Glinda, the Good, to a group of people who were as dressed in elaborate, exquisite outfits as she was. An amusing theatrical song later, she begins telling the untold story of the witches of Oz. In the next 2 hours, we witness the unfair circumstances that aid in labeling a misunderstood, powerful witch, the wicked witch.

When they met, they couldn't have been more different. While Glindawas the popular, much-loved, slightly dim-witted blond, Elphaba was green and therefore viewed with apprehension and disgust. Her latent power and her eagerness to study impressed the teachers, but she remained unpopular with the students; even her own sister.

However, these rivals soon became friends, even finding a common attraction towards a fun-loving, mischievous Fiyero. You'd think life is going well, but it isn't. The evil Wizard of Oz is plotting in the background, so he can use Elphaba's powers to read a magical book. She refuses, and the revered Wizard tarnishes her image by labeling her evil. As Elphaba gets more and more powerful, the people of Oz fear her even more, making her the most powerful wicked witch of Oz.

This tale of magic, treachery, good Vs evil, and misunderstanding meets with a glorious end, one that you have to watch for yourself. Worth every pound, the elaborate sets, the use of props, the changing lighting, the exquisite outfits, the lively music, and the storyline made Wicked seem larger than life. See if you can....!

I Love this Woman....

I love this man