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Wednesday, 29 September 2021

YOU, YES YOU....I MEAN YOU ONLY!

 

Image source: Pixabay

I have the strangest of triggers to self-demolition. Imagine a police station with a row of crime suspects and you and I are a part of the audience. If the inspector in-charge were to menacingly question, "I give you one minute to tell me, which one of you did it. I'll find out one way or other, come on now, own up, who did it? You, or is it you...or you, yes you?" You'll be very surprised to see none of the suspects respond but there'll be one hand meekly raised in the audience - that would be me! Some habits don't die so easily! 

What can I say? It's years of conditioning. Surviving the Guilty-As-Charged complex (well, I just made that one up but who knows, it may be an established one!)

Flashback to school times. I vividly remember sitting attentively in the biology lectures of John sir. John sir was a fantastic teacher, hugely famous for his effective, result-oriented teaching techniques. His favourite quirk was to spend a considerable amount of time sketching complicated detailed diagrams on the board. While the students attempted to copy and transfer the same onto their notebooks, he would suddenly swivel, gaze across the melee, take quick aim and fling the chalk in his hand with missile accuracy at the unfortunate inattentive or talkative student. Such regular missiles, ensured pin-drop silence even when he had his back turned to us. During lectures, he followed another practice. He would explain a topic from botany or zoology, all the time his eyes boring right through the back of all our heads and we dared not look elsewhere. But that wasn't enough for him. He would stop mid-sentence and freeze his gaze on the victim-of-the-day and slowly drawl, "You, yes you...I mean YOU only!" Time moved in slow-motion as the victim fumbled and stood bewilderedly. The professor then proceeded to pop quiz and grill the student on what he'd just been teaching and more often than not the student either had no answers or the wrong answers. Once you'd been caught blanking, the action that followed was mild but the technique was so effective that no further action was needed! Somehow, unerringly John sir knew, who understood what was being taught and who didn't! 

Yours truly, was one of his favourite victims who never failed to amuse the class. It was a standing joke and bets were placed on whether or not I'd be targeted that day. I diligently studied for his lectures and tried to stay as prepared as I could. I even managed to respond correctly to his trajectories but those occasions were few. He somehow seemed to know what I didn't know and focused on choosing those topics. I did try putting on my most innocent, sincere face but guess it wasn't very convincing.

Fast forward to college, the exact same scenario continued with more than one professor, I always managed to attract their attention despite sitting absolutely still and attentive, at least appearance wise. I went to the extent of hiding behind backs and keeping my head down, still no luck! Friends recommended I try something new - look them in the eye and glare, no backing down. That earned me a good, "Get out of the class and stay out for the rest of the term," sentence! So much for not taking it lying down!

With time, my talent has aged gracefully. I no longer blush, flush or fumble, neither quake nor crumble when I am singled out, I am just resigned to the fact that this particular talent of mine could be what saves the skins of so many who might quail, quiver and or have a meltdown at the prospect. To all those miscreants who think they've been successfully getting away, just remember the silent sacrifice of scapegoats like me! I haven't taken a jaded view of life or been beaten by the fact that I am singled out or subject to perusals. I've accepted it as my share of the weird things in life (you do know that every human is allotted some weird stuff during the course of his life on earth) and I am just thankful my lot is being in the err...spotlight...for whatever reasons or outcome, self-preservation and indignation be damned! All the same, it would be whole lot more satisfying to have actually done something worth the indictment!

With years of practice, this talent has blossomed to a new level. No longer restricted to the confines of packed classrooms or offices, it has spread its wings...I now regularly catch the attention of traffic police. They appear on never before seen junctures and turnings, popping out of the blue to hand me the challan for flouting the lamest of rules, while I sit primly seat-belted with eyes riveted on the road. All around me cars whizz about at 120 kmph, trucks leave behind thick tufts of black smoke, bikers on rampage like they are on the MotoGP, but who cares about all that when you have your regular solid customer?! I am almost certain they have my mug-shot on some kind of facial recognition scanner that they've fixed God knows where or probably there is a tracking device of some sort that alerts them, "DAILY QUOTA ON THE ROAD"!! So attuned am I to these crackdowns that as soon as I see a traffic cop, my steering wheel gravitates towards him, ready to cough up my mandatory obeisance! He greets me with a friendly welcoming smile, makes polite conversation and transactions proceed smoothly and we wave goodbye, till the next time.

For years, I have pondered this. It is extremely fascinating, don't you think? How does this work? What are the odds of the same person in a crowd being picked out at various instances over several years? Is it plain simple bad luck? Do I have a suspicious, guilty face with shifty eyes or do I have an extremely vacant, inattentive mind-is-wandering look? Maybe I look pretty annoying or just that I look permanently doubtful? Or it could just be Charisma, you know! Whatever it is, I've given into it and always assume when somebody calls out, "You, yes you...I mean YOU only", it obviously means ME only!


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Copyright © 2021 KALA RAVI

Tuesday, 1 June 2021

Mot Juste

The English language has the propensity of bestowing us with a mot juste - appropriate vocabulary to address every contingency. Society demands certain norms of verbal etiquette and politeness even under duress. 

There are scores of words out there that you can happily use when matters are hunky-dory. But when the going gets tough, you've got to think on your feet. Putting out harsh words can ruin all and any good you've done.

Thankfully, you can use the right words to express yourself while toning down the embarrassment, animosity or unpleasantness factor in subtle ways deigned to convey, at least to a certain extent, the depth of feelings behind them...hopefully without ruffling feathers. 

Of course you don't want to go malaprop, so read up, and instead of being the usual mute bystander, pull out those polite word guns and go all Tharoorish on the opposite party. 

Here is a short compilation of words, some from old English, that can come to your aid as they come close to expressing, "the moment" or "the feeling", in a more refined way.



  1. Disaster at hand can be construed as an Adversity.
  2. You can condone a scatterbrained person as just being Ambiguous or Vague.
  3. A tyrant can be depicted in nobler light by calling him Authoritarian
  4. Brainstorming is a wonderful word when you are engaged in of hours of fruitless discussion.
  5. The terribly talkative or a loudmouthed can be benignly extolled for being Boisterous, Loquacious or simply Spirited.
  6. If you are asked to elaborate on particularly boring, pointless and endless conversations or discussions - Circumlocutory and Obfuscate can be very helpful. 
  7. Calling something Contrived is better than it being hypocritical.
  8. Faced with a Conundrum or a Dilemma? You'll be better appreciated for it than bluntly stating that you are confused.
  9. A maddening behaviour, touted as Disturbing, well, can be less disturbing.
  10. Egregious will do well to fashionably dismiss B grade movies, books, meetings...yawn, whatever else.
  11. Enigmatic and Esoteric are extremely valuable words to intelligently put what is beyond your comprehension.
  12. Half-baked and Imprudent definitely sound better than ridiculous.
  13. A particularly bizarre and impractical proposition can be congratulated as being Ingenious yet a tad too Futuristic for implementation.
  14. You can romanticize cunning and devious behaviour as Machiavellian.
  15. Somebody's performance being Limited may sound less brutal than disappointing.
  16. A miserly person may be benevolently ascribed to being Parsimonious.
  17. Pedantic can be a delightful substitute for OCD.
  18. Ruminating on matters that are at an impasse can be a proactive expression to use instead of a simple WIP or even worse, saying you're getting nowhere.
  19. Describing someone as one who enjoys Soliloquy is way better than calling him a conversational narcissist.
  20. Tenacious can be a rather flattering way of alluding to cut-throat competition.
  21. Sharing a less than cordial or a Tenuous relation with someone may sound better than a bitter rival.
  22. Trite or Pedestrian can be gentle way to put down a dull idea.
  23. Precocious, which sounds very close to precious, is a perfect description when you have to compliment parents of know-it-all kids/brats.
  24. A low-budget, less than comfortable stay can be justified as being Spartan or even Austere.
  25. An aggressive individual can be delicately referred to as being of Volatile temperament.


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Well, I'll keep adding to this list as I come up with more jargon to bail you out of tight situations. Meanwhile, all you folks reading this, chew the bullet, stay safe at home and keep calm till the pandemic outside blows over...which seems to be interminably extending to an eternity.😢😢😷

If you enjoyed this post, you might want to have a look at: 

Tips for the Conversationally Averse


Copyright © 2021 KALA RAVI

Sunday, 11 April 2021

The Sky does Fall!


If someone told me the whole world would come crashing down someday soon, I'd tell them to stop being such a doom-monger! Little did I expect anything like that to happen, like literally the ceiling come crashing all over me! For something to happen, you need not step out. It can happen right inside your house. So much for staying safe at home!

Here I am folks, nearly four months down the year making my first appearance. The year 2021 that started off on a promising note, of hopefully being more productive and fulfilling than the year 2020, hasn't lived up to its expectations for me.

The lockdown of 2020 has brought out this hitherto hidden OCD in me, one that obsesses over dust and dusting. On one such regular OCD beat, I was out with my arme de choix, the vacuum cleaner, scouting the den, our family room. I saw the floor had clumps of plaster and dust from the ceiling. I looked up at the ceiling and observing the fine cracks, mentally noted that it was time to get the home repairs up and about, that had been long-postponed because of what-everyone-knows-and-is-fed-up-of. 

My son sitting in the adjoining room was about to enter the den. He looked up at the ceiling and screamed out a warning to me. I was inside and in the middle of the room and before I could even try to react, the whole blasted ceiling comprising of large heavy RCC chunks and plaster came crashing down on me! Ageing buildings with weakened structure and poor timing are not a great combination. Who ya gonna blame? You just brush/lift off the heavy weight, lick your wounds and curse the builder who cannot be pinned to this mishap!

Cutting some long and rather depressing travails short, I'll move on to say I was diagnosed with a lisfranc injury requiring surgery, besides a couple of tiny fractures in the same foot. I had minor scrapes, cuts and bruises all over the body that hurt like hell but no lasting marks to show for them. 

By some miracle or the countless blessings of loved ones or just plain freak luck, I'd escaped the direst of consequences with merely this fancy-sounding injury that would take a couple months immobilization in a foot cast and another couple in rehabilitation. 

Now, three months from the day of my accident, I am finally emerging from self-exile. The bizarre accident managed to unscramble me in totally unexpected ways. For days, I was focused on the pain of the injury, then post-operative pain. The pain meds didn't really work for me. My long time problem of insomnia went on an overdrive with anxiety and panic attacks thrown in for variety. I became incapable of enduring conversations or concentrating on anything. The ring of the phone, the drone of television or even reading gave me panic attacks. My mind totally deplored the idea of company and conversation even with loved ones. It sought refuge in solitude, quiet and nothingness which I somehow comprehended was what it needed to heal from the trauma. I resisted the idea of taking medications for the problem and instead sought out every possible alternative resource like deep breathing, relaxation, sleep meditation techniques that the internet offered. 

Eventually, I don't know what really worked, but my body and mind slowly came to be at peace with each other. I can now walk without any support, albeit with a limp and I sleep...as best I can or did! 

I don't know why I am even writing this post. Maybe burying the experience through words is cathartic. Maybe it gives me some sense of closure to the nightmare that these past few months have been. 

For a person who's escaped an entire childhood and better part of adulthood without the smallest of scrapes or scars, I now boast of one wicked-looking scar on my foot! I have a better understanding of the power of the human mind, the strength of prayers, the kindness, goodwill, love, support, encouragement and patience of family and friends that helped me tide over this difficult time. Gratitude for all the silver linings, that is something I'll never again take for granted! Tough times make you appreciative of the smaller things that make life so much more beautiful. 

All the same, I'll remain wary of ceilings for awhile....it'll take some time getting used to the idea that they're here to stay and protect!😰😰 That Chief Vitalstatistix sure knew what he was going on about! 



That's all from me for now, dear folks.

Stay safe....wherever you are and stay blessed and loved always!


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Copyright © 2021 KALA RAVI

Monday, 28 December 2020

Happy Smells

Smells. I find them to be one of the most powerful senses that can trigger distant memories like nothing else. The association of smells are pretty random at times and seem unrelated but they have somehow managed to register a lingering imprint on my mind. Writing this has been cathartic for me. Reliving fond old times through the trail of smells and aromas. 

It also reminds me, I seem to have some peculiar fascination for the olfactory sense. You've got to read this to believe me. 👇 

JUST NOSING AROUND  


The blast of mint, carbolic soap and urine - strangely redolent of cherished holiday train travel. There is obviously not much one loves about this combination of odours but this was exactly how a second-class compartment smelled! After a two-day train journey, you could throw in a sooty, metallic twang to the lot.

The fragrance of damp earth stirs a number of lovely images for me. Besides the obvious - of glorious rains hitting the parched earth, the smell reminds me of this scene viewed through sleep-drenched childhood eyes at the brink of dawn. Our maid in the village for over three generations, Lecchmi (who sadly passed away just recently) splashing the front threshold of our village home and then proceeding to deftly weave intricate kolam that fascinated me to no end.

The scent of burning wood and smoke makes me salivate...strange? You see, my mind always associates this smell with the heady aroma of bakshanams that ensued once paati got the fire burning steadily in the outdoor stove that used firewood and cattle dung. The massive quantities of sweets and savouries churned out from this smoke-spewing stove is unimaginable!

The heady bouquet of jasmine and rose flowers - specifically the gundu malli and paneer roja give me a thrill as I remember the grand melee of three-day weddings and various functions from yore. 

The divine fragrance of camphor, parijat flowers and sandalwood ushers in memories of thatha then and now appa performing the daily poojai. A fragrance that makes me involuntarily bow my head in reverence and devotion.

The amalgamation of sesame oil and firecrackers - "The Diwali smell" will always bring to mind the unforgettable thrill of waking before dawn, having an oil bath, hurriedly wearing new clothes and rushing out to be the first to burst crackers on Diwali mornings. 

The elusive fragrance of saffron always reminds me of my amma's sweets! You see amma has this weakness for this ingredient. She diligently advocates adding a few strands of the coveted saffron to every sweet treat to elevate it to the next level.

The delicate whiff of baby powder or even dettol brings on a wistful smile, reminding me of cuddly babies wrapped in freshly washed nappies. Makes me wonder, were my babies really that small? How time flies!

The acrid smell of snuffed out candles leads me onto the sweet aroma of baking which then tantalizingly brings to mind happy smiles, loads of food and fun from the children's parties I held.

The overwhelming hit of strong filter kaapi brewing anywhere is such one heady aroma that sings of home, home, home! From mom's milky coffee for youngsters only, surreptitiously downing unlimited tumblers of the piping hot yet entirely too sweet caterer's coffee at functions, to my better-half's strong brew every morning, kaapi is that distinctive beverage that spells home sweet home for me!

Moving on years ahead, 

The cloying smell of sanitizers, the sharp hit of bleach that assail the senses, will remind me eternally of the battle with the unknown enemy.

Oh, those dear old happy smells, they just don't make 'em like that anymore!


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On another note, this post gives me another reason to smile...I can smell everything perfectly well - I am corona-free with my sniffing-tasting skills intact!

Are you obsessed with smells, the way I am? Do share your favourite olfactory memory.


Glossary

paati -  grandmother

bakshanams - sweets and savouries

malli - a variety of jasmine

paneer roja - damask rose

thatha - grandfather

appa - father

poojai - daily prayer and worship

kaapi - South-Indian filter coffee



Copyright © 2020 KALA RAVI

Wednesday, 18 November 2020

A Diwali Lament


 

A Diwali Lament


I waited in vain for little hands to pounce and pry,
to open the carton and feast their eyes on me. 

To see their eyes light up in wonder and amazement,
as I burst into a dazzling display of light and color. 

I, who proclaimed jubilantly, 
the victory of good over evil, year upon year,

I, the symbolic harbinger of prosperity and abundance,
Lie accused, forgotten and discarded.

Pointing fingers of environmental degradation,
Laugh away, those big daddies of everyday pollution.

I am just another age-old custom,
Waiting to join Holi and others,
onto the burning pyre of dying Hindu festivals.


Copyright © 2020 KALA RAVI

#CrackerBan #RIPDiwali #RelaxNRave

Tuesday, 11 August 2020

The Good Scare



"Yahan se pachas pachas kos door gaon mein, jab bachha raat ko rota hai, toh maa kehti hai, bete so ja, so ja nahi toh Gabbar Singh a jayega."

Iconic lines, aren't they? Mothers from times immemorial have used, booboo, bogeyman, buddha baba, rakshas, pucchandi and many other characters to get the little ones to listen to them when all other wiles fail. 
While modern parenting psychologists would reprovingly wag a finger against scare tactics of any kind, sometimes that may be the only recourse open to the parent to ensure the child listens to what she is told, especially if it is to prevent her from any potential harm.

My kids grew up listening to a healthy dose of fairytales, epics, folk tales, fables and a few made-up tales. 
You see we had this ritual of story-telling during all meals. It just made the whole affair so much faster! Besides meal-time, we had bedtime stories too. The main difference was, meal-time stories had to be more imaginative and delivered with exceptional raconteuring skills.
So depending on the menu for the day, the stories got more or less embellished. For instance, deep-fried potatoes or pasta didn't require too much effort while cabbage, sprouts, beans etc. required more work.
Bedtime stories in comparison were usually comforting, stress-free, even boring and monotonous...well, sleep-inducing ones, which usually the father seemed to be a pro at!

So my repertoire of stories had to be constantly upgraded as the audience demand for newer, wackier tales grew.

Occasionally, I sneaked in some tales that were a bit scary with the intent of inspiring some good old-fashioned fear to deter the kids from trying anything foolhardy.
The things we parents do in the name of protecting and keeping them safe from harm!🙄
Hey, don't go raising those brows...not until you hear me out!


Well, in the search for new stories to aid the meal-times, there began a series I liked to call: 
True Life Stories (with Morals).
They were supposedly real-life experiences that had taken place in my life or somebody else's. In fact, many of these stories have been passed down through generations.
Of course, it could be that these"real" experiences were majorly dramatized for better story-telling experiences.
In my defence, I'd like to point out that these stories were a hit with my little audience and fussy meal-times were non-existent!

Are you curious as to what these stories were like?
Let me share a few while pointing out that I've just shared the briefest outline of these stories. They were liberally seasoned, garnished and stretched to last the duration of a meal.

1) The boy who never cleaned his shoe
There was this boy who never, ever cleaned his shoes before wearing them, however much his mother reminded him.
One day a scorpion got into the shoe.
The boy slipped on his shoes without tapping it out clean. The scorpion stung him and his foot swelled up and hurt terribly. His parents rushed him to the doctor and after lots of injections and bitter medicines he became alright.
Moral: You must always clean your shoes before wearing them.

You bet this tale ensured the kids knocked the stuffing out of shoes before wearing them!

2) The careless mother
One day this mother is in a hurry to leave for work. She forgets to cover the pan of boiled milk. A lizard scurrying on the ceiling falls into the hot milk and dies. Later, the mother serves the milk to both her children without realizing what has fallen in. The children fall violently sick and have to be rushed to the hospital.
Moral: Never leave eatables uncovered.

I for one can guarantee that once you've heard this story, you'll never ever leave the kitchen without ensuring everything is covered.

3) The boy who got lost
A family goes on an outing. Little boy wanders when the parents are looking elsewhere. He gets lost in the big city and cries a lot. A friendly old man takes him to the police station. After many hours, the parents after searching all over finally reach the police station and find their little boy.
Moral: You must never wander alone in a new place.

This story ensured that my kids never strayed too far on outings or got lost ever!

4) The girl with the pencil
This little girl loved pencils. She kept sharpening her pencils and would watch the sharp points with pride. Her mother told her to stop playing with the sharp pencil especially with her little baby brother around. One day as the girl was writing in her book, little baby sneaked over and took a sharp pencil lying next to his sister. When his sister suddenly turned and screamed at him, the baby got scared and poked himself with the pencil. Thankfully he missed poking his eye but the sharp-pointed pencil gave him a big nick on his chubby cheek. 
Moral: Always be careful with sharp objects.

Nothing better to save the kids from sharp-pointed injuries!


So you get the idea? Scary tales that leave a mark on the psyche but in a good way...I think!

I was wondering what kind of cautionary tales must be doing the rounds nowadays.
I refuse to believe that such tales are out of fashion!
I'd say, the new Gabbar in town being the Corona Virus, parents would be narrating tales like this...

One day a girl went to the market without her mask. A man in the market sneezed. Another lady coughed. The girl came home and in a week's time, she tested positive for COVID.

A man went to work wearing his mask. But he did not bother to clean his hands every time he touched the lift doors, buttons and other surfaces. A week later, he was sick.

Aaaand....so on! You know what? With the number of COVIDIOTS doing the rounds, it would make sense to drill these stories more to such adults than the little ones!


The current COVID situation is throwing up all kinds of small and big horror stories around us. 
Do you think we should use them to sensitize our kids to the seriousness of proper care and precaution? 

As I sign off, let me share this bit of disconcerting trivia...
Some of the most popular English rhymes we croon lovingly to our children are actually pretty creepy! 
You could check out what I am talking about here: 



Cheers, till later!



Copyright © 2020 KALA RAVI

Wednesday, 1 July 2020

Buns, Pickles, Double Crochet & Me


Whatever happened to Relax-N-Rave? A question not posted anywhere, just a little niggle in my own head.
The ongoing depressing ordeal of a series of lockdowns that are not fun even when unlocked have taken the zeal out of life. I'd given up hopes of writing anything, leave alone it being sensible. Finally, THIS happened. 👇


Warning: This post has references that only true Potterheads will get.


RelaxNRave


READY OR NOT, EXPELLIARMUS

Yours truly started on this Lockdown journey like anyone else you know...just like the Nobel laureates, nerdy doctors, epidemiologists, brilliant heads of state and nations and the homeless person on the street - barely prepared, ill-equipped, poorly-informed with the vague idea that it was just some new fad that would fizzle out in a week or two. 
In the beginning, I was drunk on Felix Felicis, confident I could take on any kind of challenge. No maid, bring it on I say. I honed my non-existent domestic chores skills to a dazzling shine. I loved the time I had in a maid-free home. New webinars on learning everything I could dream of and more beckoned. A life of possibilities!  
I waxed eloquently about the dire situation even as I baked incessantly - from daily bread, fruit buns, pizza bases, cakes, to exotic croissants. Sweets, savouries, new recipes, old favourites all jostled for time in my already over-packed daily itinerary. I ventured into unchartered territories of pickle and jam-making in the sweltering kitchen even as I mentally lamented the futility of such endeavours, besides of course helping with girth and seat widening. Dame Washalot, Dishalot, Bakealot, Snackalot, Cleanalot...I was virtually unstoppable. 

DARK TIMES

As the Lockdown progressed well into the second month, the Dementors came in, sucking the joy out of everything. I gawked at the images every second person shared on social media of their new-found lockdown prowesses. I had joined the mad race too, knowing fully well how out of depth, races of any kind were for me. Now, only the Duracell bunnies of Lockdown continue on that path. Me? I am just an ol' Eveready, it's a wonder I'd lasted even this long! The crew I'd carefully groomed and fine-tuned to my exacting specifications of sweeping, mopping and scouring charred vessels, in the initial phase of lockdown had grown weary of the tasks. Worse still, even the sight of an empty sink or a well-risen loaf of bread couldn't banish the sinking feeling. Nothing mattered. Gluttony and binge-watching web series seemed the only things worth living for. I cursed the lockdown that had shackled my knights in shining armour - the Online Delivery Agents. Unable to shop physically or virtually was a crippling experience for this shopaholic. Like a billion other folks, I was bitterly complaining about the torture of running the maidless home, which by this time aided by the miserable weather was, I'll swear actually a factory, a sweatshop - where the sweat never stopped flowing and the sink never got empty. 

EXPECTO PATRONUM

I desperately needed the Patronus Charm. The Lockdown eased to Unlock mode. Yay! Emails, SMSes from various sites beckoned me to check them out. Jubilantly gazing at my mobile, I chanted, "Add to Cart" while envisioning my happiest memories - walking in the mall with a laden trolley.
And lo behold...my home, nay, the security cabin of my housing society became like No 4, Privet Drive that gets flooded with owl mails from Hogwarts, only here the security cabin was flooded with a blush-worthy load of parcels from all possible online portals that were delivery-capable. Parcels from Big Basket, Flipkart, Myntra and Amazon, tumbled over each other while the security guard gave up calling home on the intercom announcing this flurry of new deliveries.
Of course, I conscientiously sprayed them all with the disinfectant spray as they landed home and quietly observed them resting in piled quarantine, with a self-satisfied smile. And thus I banished the rotten Dementors. 

HORCRUXES CAN BE GOOD

As the lockdown continued relentlessly, I went deeper on the Dora path. I entered the netherworld of crocheting. I spent hours devouring online videos on crocheting, marvelling the twists and twirls of yarn that I had been squeamish about in my infantile youthThe first parcels from online shopping that I ripped open were the wool yarns. I did tell you, I was on the path unexplored. I took these soft bundles of fluff and vanished into another dimension. I surfaced occasionally when I remembered, I was responsible, and the only one capable of satiating the other inmates' hunger pangs. Mopping, laundry, dish-washing waited in vain for their new-found pal, but I'd found my kindred spirit in crocheting. And crochet, I did! I went at it with unbridled passion and sadly little expertise.  The crochet needle and wool yarn became my Horcruxes. I wouldn't let them out of sight. 
After a fortnight I emerged, a changed person, feeling much like a hermit who comes out of a dark cave after aeons of meditation, of course without much enlightenment but lots of entanglement. The wool yarn for some reason came in some kind of twisted bale that got tangled into knots that could have exasperated Houdini. 
However, I have something tangible to show for from my days of self-ostracization. 
Ahem, a 3'x3' woollen blanket in double crochet! I wonder what I am going do with it. I lovingly drape it on the sweaty torso of my teen and he angrily swats it away.

HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED - psst...XJ

While we don't know how or what exactly triggered this horrible pandemic, there is little doubt where this horror came from. Adding more fuel to the flame are scary rumours of an impending war, initiated by...you know who!
Till date, no one is sure when or if we will ever be rid of this awful viral pandemic. However, it is a good thing that the misery is a global one hence a possible resolution or mass exodus seems inevitable, yeah "Do or Die" with loads of company isn't all that bleak a proposition, is it? After all, "To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure," right? 😢☹️


The other day I walked to the market just because I was allowed to. Geared in a mask, goggles and hair net, clutching a sanitizer bottle, I was back home in ten minutes, drenched in sweat, totally panicked and paranoid! I could imagine how a domesticated cow would feel if it was released into the wild Savannah. But, I guess this ol' cow will develop a thick hide and morph into a wild bison eventually. 
Till then, let me indulge the businesses of Big Basket et al while I am still not brave enough to let in Swiggy et al.
Now, let me hustle, I have a bucket load of washing to do, you know...the veggies and fruits I just bought right after I boil the used masks. That reminds me, I gotta browse that jaw-dropping array of fancy face masks. I wonder if I can get away with the leopard print ones or maybe I should stick to the neon stripes?

Don't let the Muggles get you down, will ya? And if they do, remember to turn on the light.

Cheers!❤️


You could also read my post on Lockdown Realizations.



Copyright © 2020 KALA RAVI