Madhubala and Marilyn Monroe in my living room

These two drop dead gorgeous ladies are in my living room. Sitting daintly on my sofa. Ok. Out I come from my dream world, but when I spotted these cushion covers I set my heart on them and knew where exactly they would find place.

I have placed the cushion cover of Madhubala right opposite the entrance. So, it gives an impression as if she's lifting her ghunghat to catch a glimpse who's walking in :) I love the feeling.

And, what do I say about Marilyn Monroe. She just perks up the entire room.

I spotted these colourful mini cushions at a store in a mall and fell head-over-heels in love. So out they followed me from the store to my home :)

And now for a complete picture of how these lil beauties compete with the other two beauties to grab all the eyballs.

Dust it off the candles

I picked up this tip on my last visit to Goa. The housekeeping staff left a neatly designed note after they were done with their job.

The note had a tip on how to remove the dust that has settled on candles. And here, am sharing it with you all.

Using a wet cloth to remove the dust off the wax is not a good idea. The dust just plays around and never comes off the candle. Here's what you need to do. Take a cotton ball and dampen it with a lil alcohol (sneak a lil from your husband's treasured bottles and for those whose husbands do not indulge in alcohol, get yourself minitaure bottles) and wipe the candles. See the dust come off the candles and stuck to the cotton ball.

I tried it...both, sneaking alcohol from my husband's bottles and wiping the candles with them :)
It works.

Kitchen Korners

I love entering and lurking in my kitchen. No, it's not cooking which pulls me to this part of my home, it's the corners which are inviting.

Take a look. Even on the days when Iam tired and don't want to cook, the colors and the corners promptly invite me and I meekly surrender :)

The mini bar

Coffee-shaded jute blinds for the window in my kitchen for some privacy and escape from bright sunlight in the afternoons

Another shot

 And, another shot

My angel's concern for me

"Mumma, be careful, sambhal kar jaana. Auto mein jaana, no walking, nahi tho accident ho jaayegi." My little angel never forgets to advise me thus for more than six months now when I step out of home. Her concern is valid. At the start of this year, I had waived her bye after leaving her at her playschool and when she came back home she saw my limbs wrapped up in white bandages...I had met with an accident.

During the first few days, she wouldn't even come close to me...she was scared. Later, I explained to her, "Mumma was crossing the road and that's when a vehicle hit me". After this explanation she realised it was ok to come near me. Over the next couple of days that followed she would express concern at every possible opportune, which gave me a feeling of my mother fussing over me...Touchwood to that!

Glimpses of my home

Welcome to my world - my home, where every space is a canvas for me. Come along as I take you around my abode.

My bedroom, which has the bright hues I love - Orange and Pink

I have used a table runner for the effect of a throw on the bed.

Another shot, with a partial focus on the chandelier. Many suggested I should put it up in living room, but I have it in here. It gives a romantic touch :)

Let me now guide you to the guest bedroom which will later on double up as my daughter's space when she is big enough to call a room of her own.

The theme for this room is blue. So all the accessories in this room are bright and blue.

The dressing mirror and shelves designed by me have been fixed on to the wall to save space. And, the colorful wall hanging is done by my neice :)

The color blue spreads to the bathroom too :)

The blue circles are wall decals which I bought online. You need to simply stick it on to the tiles and Voila! you have a revamped bathroom.

And, now it's the turn for the favourite place of mine in my home - The balcony. I have added a few batch lanterns as part of diwali deco and I fell in love with the place all over again :) Take a look.

I know the post is a half-baked job. But will get back with more shots in a later post.
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My daughter's designer streak

I had bought these set of two paintings which I decided to put up on my bathroom walls... in a corner where water spray does not reach. But little did i realise that my maid will give them a shower every week, while cleaning the tiles.

So, the beautiful paintings turned to spotted paintings :(

I decided to do away with them, till my three-year old daughter took one of them and placed it on the knob  of my dressing stool, and I simply loved the effect. Take a look.

And yes! am mighty proud that she's got the same streak as I :)  And this and another painting (not shown here) have not been junked :)

Only Jhumkas!

If you love jhumkas like I do, you MUST take a look at the collection of jhumkas ETSY has. Here’s the link to directly land on the amazing jhumka collection page http://www.etsy.com/shop/jhumkas

I have fallen head-over-heels in love with a south Indian Jhumka which has Lord Krishna etched out and a Jaipur Apsara jhumkas. Take a peek at two of these collections below:

I have been ogling and drooling over these two pieces. Sigh!

Pic Courtesy: www. etsy.com

My balcony gets a makeover!

This part of my home was neglected for some time, for lack of time. So, last week I decided to give it a makeover and went out shopping with my friend and spotted a beautiful jharoka at a Rajasthani store. That was my first purchase. And then the next purchase for the balcony happened at a li’l shop which is a favorite with we three friends Janani, Monirupa and I.

Monirupa reached this shop before me while I was ogling at a bedspread at another store and urged me to reach there soon. And then came the surprise. She pointed to a mural… half face of Budha (she knows my Budha fetish) and asked me how do I like it. I said it was stunning. She promptly asked the shop keeper to pack it and turned towards me and said, “That’s a gift from me to you for your birthday” J

And then another mural caught my eye… that of a flower. And, I treated myself by purchasing that. And then went about arranging all my purchases and of course, the gift on the balcony wall. And the result is something to die for.    

Binging on Melon sorbet

Ummmm, I went after popping a piece of melon sorbet I made. Yeah, yeah!  it’s not the apt time to indulge in sorbets, but I had to try this one out after I read it in a magazine. It turned out delicious.

I heaped a bowl full of inviting melon sorbet, made myself comfortable on the sofa and went ummmm every time I popped in a piece of the wonderfully colored sorbet.

Me and my beast

The picture you are seeing out here is of my vehicle, I call it a beast! J. Of course, because of its vast size! My good friend, Monirupa even has a name for it – Elephant. She says its ground clearance is so high you feel as if you are mounting on to rather than getting into a vehicle.

Yes indeed, I was scared to tame this beast but it was my husband who gave me the push and courage to drive it. Though I drove it gingerly just like anyone would a new born, I soon learnt to control it. And it’s now been my constant everyday for the last nine months. And yes, when I am driving this down the streets I do get all the eyeballs.

 The best compliment I get is when a man driver turns back and looks at me in awe, and the best a woman had paid a compliment is, “You look like a stud driving it” - and that compliment was paid by my colleague Ramya.

But the super compliment I got and cherish is from my hubby. He once said to my parents when I was ferrying them to a relative’s place, “Relax papa, she drives better than me.”

Unromantically Romantic

Like any girl dreams of having tall, dark, handsome, romantic, understanding, loving man in her life, I too dreamt of having one. And my husband fits the frame of tall, dark, handsome, loving and understanding to the T in the conventional context. Romantic is the element which does not fit. That does not mean that he’s not romantic it’s just that he does not fit the bill in the conventional terms.

He does not serenade me with flowers or chocolates, but brings to my notice any discounts being offered by spas and parlors and eggs me to try the experience. He does not get me gifts but has never said “No” to my shopping sprees. He does not plan surprise dinner dates or eat outs but gets all the needed groceries and veggies without me having to tell him. He does not and cannot dish out great delicacies in the kitchen but lays the table and picks up left over after a meal without me having to tell him. He does not whisper sweet nothings into my ears on a beautiful day but lets me sleep late, and proceeds to boil the milk and make his tea.

In the initial years of my marriage it was tough for me to come to terms with this perceived unromantic side of my husband. But it did not take long for me to see the beautiful other side of his - THE ROMANTIC SIDE.

Elated!

My b’day is a good two weeks away, but my friend Janani already started to make me feel SPECIAL. This friend of mine is across seven seas. She stays in Paris and we catch up with each other over chats, almost every day. Yesterday she pinged me and as usual we exchanged our girlie talks and then I shared an online shopping site URL with her. After raving about the site, the next ping I get from her read like this – “Choose something you like and let me know. Let me buy you a birthday gift. Pretty Please!”  The gesture took me by surprise. After initial refusals from my side and coaxing from her end I zeroed in on a pair of jhumkis. I let her know my choice and was just about coming back to normalcy from my super elated state when she pinged – “Ok… appram, what else venum birthday baby kku?” (what else does the birthday baby want?)

 I was like WHAT? I told her the same. She insisted that I choose something else too from the site in addition to the pair of jhumkis I already selected.  I was rattled. Nobody pampered me so and told her that. She still insisted that I choose one more. I tried to convince her saying “Podum da” (enough) to which she pinged back “You mentioned you liked their natural soaps, right?” and promptly went ahead and selected a chocolate soap. The gifts may be reaching me in a day or two. But what left a lasting impression on my heart are the gesture and the effort on her part to make me feel that am one of a kind – Special. I will cherish it for a long time.

Thanks babes.

 PS: I will soon post the pictures of the gifts.

My Bum Chum

As a teenager, I was low on self esteem. I was conscious about my height (no, I was not tall. My short frame was what bothered me), my brown skin color and bony frame. And, to top it, I had classmates and so-called friends who would take digs at me and ridicule me on these aspects. My confidence had taken a beating and got buried under heaps of insults and mockeries.

This was till the day Aruna, my now bum chum, soul mate, best friend - the synonyms may go on - entered my life.

Circa 1995, The English lecturer had given us a test and was well in the middle of giving instructions on the same, when a girl dressed in a navy blue skirt and sky blue top excused into the packed classroom. Her pensive eyes were scouting for a vacant seat when I signaled her to come and sit beside me. She took the seat hurriedly and expressed an equally hurried “Thank You”. Before she could settle down she asked me, “What are the questions for the test”. That was our first interaction.

After the exam and class ended we moved out of the classroom to attend Sanskrit lecture, which was scheduled in another wing of our huge college. Aruna was once again in a hurry, this time to catch up with her friends. She almost darted out of the classroom. My eyes traced her as she wound her way bumping into and squeezing through the trail of girls in the aisle and waving and calling out to her friends.

Later that day, we had a conversation and realized we both stayed at the same place and decided to go together to the bus stop to catch the bus. At the bus stop as we waited for the bus to arrive, she confessed with a lump in her throat how her friends ignored her through the day as she did not sit on the same bench as they did. Silly? Not during school/college days where jealousy creeps in for these very reasons. As for me I did not know how to react. I stared at her face, which was riot with hurt, and anger.

Our bus lugged into the bus bay labouredly. We boarded the already spilling bus and managed to find foot space. I ensured I placed a firm foot and hand on grip holders and proceeded to check if Aruna managed to find a grip holder when I saw a man taking advantage of the situation and leaning over her. I signaled her to move away. She did and whispered “Thank You” into my ears. I smiled back.

Over the days our friendship grew, we went to the college together and came back home together. We had loads to talk, although we were virtually stuck together for most part of the day time never seemed sufficient for our talks. We talked about clothes, fashion, film industry, our lecturers, accessories, starting a business together and all other girlie stuff. It was during one of such talks that my lack of confidence about myself came to forth. Aruna was talking about us wearing an almost similar outfit when I rejected the thought giving the reason, “it may not suit me”. Aruna instead of accepting the answer looked into my eyes sharply and asked “how do you know?” I could not give an immediate reply for I was taken aback. No one asked me this question before. I gathered all my thoughts, deepest of them and put it across to her. I said, “I don’t have the kind of height, color and looks to carry the outfit”.  She took a look at me before answering and said. “Do you know that you are blessed? You have perfectly moving limbs, good eyesight, proper face features, color of your skin and height should be least of your concern, in fact, not a concern at all.” She sealed the talk saying, “You are going to wear the decided outfit and no more discussion on this.”

That’s when the reality of her words hit me. Yes, indeed I am blessed. There was no looking back after this. Need I mention that I went on to try various styles, outfits and carry myself with elan!

Now my friend calls me style diva :)

Soulful Songs

Image Courtesy: http://www.rustyspell.com/

ABBA, the phenomenal Swedish quartet that reigned the dance-pop and disco scene in the 70s and the 80s continues to exercise its influence on present-day music – if you have listened to Madonna’s ‘Hung Up’ from her latest album ‘confessions on a Dance Floor’, you’ll know that she based this best-selling single on ABBA’s ‘Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!

Some of their songs have endured the passage of time and owe it to their strong catch melodies, fantastically complemented by synthesizers, electric guitar riffs and soearing vocals. The songs of ABBA seldom fail to set you going on the dance floor!

I was introduced to the music of ABBA on a humid summer afternoon of 1987 at my maternal grandmother’s place in Kerala. I instantly took a liking to their music. Though at that young age I couldn’t grasp a word of the lyrics, I quite enjoyed the beats as it allowed me to shake a leg.

‘Mamm mia’ displays ABBA’s uncanny knack for creating brilliant choruses. After listening to the track you might hear yourself exclaim: Mamma Mia! I enjoy beats of the songs and, especially the way lead singers Agnetha and Frida belt out ‘Here I go again my my, how can I resist her’.

SOS catapulted ABBA into mainstream British pop-music, and the band was no longer regarded as a one-hit wonder (waterloo was ABA’s first No 1 UK); the lyrics of SOS have an urgency to them, and the song itself has a danceable rhythm to it. Written by Benny Anderson and Bjorn Ulvaeus, the song ‘I have a dream, s song to sing’ is very lyrical and like a gospel anthem. What I like about this inspirational single is the use of the large choir of children. Their other songs, ‘Money, Money,’ Chiquita, ‘I do, I do’ are all quite memorable too.

Note: This article written by me was published in Maharashtra Herald, April 22, 2006 (Reviews & More)

Little Angels

I had written this piece when I went visiting an orhpanage from my office, almost two years back... thought of sharing it with you all. Was I visiting an orphanage for the first time? No. Was I involved with charity for the first time? No. Yet, there was excitement…an unexplained happiness at the mere thought of visiting an orphanage to donate clothes and other accessories collected from our office. As pre-decided, Ankita, Shraddha and I reached SOFOSH at 11 in the morning. After completing the formalities, we moved to Sreevatsa where children from 0 to 6 yrs are housed. I knew I was stepping into a different world the moment I crossed the gate to enter into the premises of Sreevatsa. Soon, my ears were filled with sounds of infants crying, toddlers screaming, kids laughing…some vying for attention while still some conveying they either wanted to play or are hungry. It was a busy hour. It was time for lunch. The mothers’ (that’s how the caretakers are addressed) were busy feeding infants in the age group of 3 to 6 months. While some gobbled down the food hungrily, some were savouring it and yes! There were a few who put up a hard fight to not let the food enter their mouth. The In-Charge welcomed us with a broad smile, and after accepting the ‘gifts’ we brought for the kids she took us around showing us the kitchen where all the meals are prepared and have to pass quality test everyday. She then took us to a section where kids from 0 to 6 months are cared for, and to where outsiders are not allowed in, lest they may pass on any infection on to kids. So, we stood at the threshold and watched them play, turn to their sides, and then all of a sudden a kid looked at us and gave a wide toothless smile and then he gave another. I am sure there’s no need to mention that this lit up not only mine but my colleagues’ face too. We were transfixed until the words of the In-Charge requesting us to move on to the next section (housing 6 months to 1 year olds) brought us back to the real world. But that was only for a few fleeting seconds. Soon we were transcended to the beautiful world yet again. At the entrance of the section we were greeted by a year old boy who was enjoying his act of pulling out clothes from the almirah. And then our attention was caught by a high-pitch cry of a baby lying in the cradle. A mother deftly making her way through cradles and kids playing on the floor, holding a tray filled with cap full of different colored medicines, administering them to the kids who required it, mentioned the baby had constipation. And I realized that along with the medicine what the baby required to ease the pain was human touch – For, the moment Shraddha held the baby in her arms she stopped crying. The baby named Kanishka was a special child. My attention was drawn towards another baby who lay in the cradle quiet. She too was a special child. And, somehow I had this feeling she was enjoying the attention I was giving her. Ankita too was drawn towards this kid. Soon the kid was in the arms of Ankita, enjoying the cozy comfort of her arms. But she broke into cry the moment Ankita lay her back in the cradle. Those few moments made me realize how badly these kids yearned for human touch! Yes they do, because every mother out there has to take care of four kids. Sure, it’s a different world - a world, which I would like to visit again – to help these little angels.

A Treat For My Hubby

Last Saturday I decided to treat (surprise treat of course) my hubby to appams for dinner and as if teleplathy was at play he walked in with a brown bag containing fish in the evening. Appam and fish curry! Ummmm i thought and blurted out in excitement that I was planning to make appams. His eyes twinkled. (For the uninitiated appam and fish curry is a great combo and any keralite who loves his fish will vouch for this.)

After he deftly washed the fish, I set out to make the fish curry. From the look of it I was satisfied and when I saw my hubby devour appam after appam dipped luxuriously in the fish curry, I was delighted.

An Ode to My Mom

The summer of 1992, to be precise 9th April 1992, is etched in my memory vividly. The day my mother, whom I feared the most between my parents for her strictness regards studies and food, stood by me like a rock - nurturing me through days of low to bring me out strong and a champion.

It was the D-day. The day my plus two results were to be out. I was at my friend’s place preparing for the entrance exam that was soon to follow. I was unable to concentrate on my studies and could hear my heart beat fast. I was dreading this day, understandably so, as I had not written my exams well.

How I wished this day never came. But it did. My friend’s dad came in to the house clutching in his hands the mid-day newspaper, which had the plus two results. I almost froze. I did not want know how I fared.

My friend browsed through the newspaper and declared loudly with a wide smile that she had passed in first division. After some quick exchange of congratulations, hugs and kisses by her immediate family, my friend turned to me and asked for my hall ticket number. My mind went blank. It was not until my friend repeated her question did I give her my hall ticket number.
She searched for my hall ticket number in the First division section meticulously. When she started to search for my number all over again, the fear in me started to take monstrous size. She then looked at me – her eyes filled with pity for me. I asked her to give me the newspaper. I went over the First division section hoping my friend’s eye missed to locate my hall-ticket number. I could not locate it. With eyes brimming with tears I began to scan for my hall-ticket number in the Second division. I found my hall-ticket number – under second division. My mouth went dry, my head felt heavy and a dizzy feeling started to set in. All the sympathetic talk by my friend and her mom sounded distant.

I had brought disgrace to my family. How will I face my parents who had so many expectations from me – had pinned so many hopes. These were the thoughts that kept racing through my mind. But the one thought that occupied prominence among these maze of thoughts was how would I face my mom? The thought almost killed me.

I had every urge to not go to home. But my feet took me there. With great fear, I rang the door bell. My mother opened the door with a smile on her lips. I did not have the courage to look into her eyes. I dragged myself to my room. She followed me. And then followed her question in a stern voice, “What’s the result?.” I turned back looked at her and managed to say “second class ma” and burst out crying. At that moment my mother took me into her arms, hugged me tight and let me cry my heart out. Slowly, she eased herself from the clasp, planted a kiss on my forehead and left the room only to come back with a plate of steaming rice and my favorite dish, eggplant curry (masala baigan) – probably she had made it as a treat for me believing that I would fare well in my exams. This thought pushed me into another bout of crying. Mom gently manouvered me to sit on the bed and then fed me the meal.

During the next couple of days, mom prepared the dishes of my liking, ensured I had a healthy meal; took me out for shopping, treated me to movies and snacks, while constantly instilling confidence in me. It was during one of those days that I decided I will make her proud one day. And, proud I did make her – after three years – when I secured a rank in the entrance exam for MBA. That day, she jumped along with me in joy when she saw my hall ticket number in the mid-day newspaper.

Left Stumped!

“Does she enjoy?” This question left me stumped and then had me thinking.

It was late Friday evening, I was busy tending to my one-and-half year old baby’s demand to play hide and seek game after a hectic day at office, when the door bell called for my attention. Ensuring that my baby is safe on ground, I opened the door. At the entrance stood a girl in her pre-teens clutching a pen and a sheet of paper in her hands. She introduced herself as a student of a well-known city-based school and the purpose why she was here. Her purpose required me to make monetary contribution towards the well being of the inmates at an old age home.

While we were engaged in a dialogue my little one decided to take a look at the visitor. With great excitement and a sense of purpose my daughter darted from the dining area to the living room and stationed herself at the door fixing her gaze at the visitor.

Not letting my eye off my kid I quickly grabbed my bag kept on the coffee table to give my contribution to the visitor. While filling in the necessary details in the sheet she held in her hand, my visitor asked me, “Is she your daughter aunty?” I replied, “Yes”. Her next question was “Are you working?” To which I again replied in the affirmative. She then asked me looking at my little one, “Where does she stay when you go to office?” “With her grandparents”, I replied smiling, probably secretly priding in the fact that I have not put my little one yet in a crèche. “Does she enjoy?” was her next question. I did not respond to this in words for I could not gather any, instead I made a meek attempt to smile.

It’s been some months now after this incident, but the question continues to ring in my ears. I am yet to decipher the meaning and the thought behind the question. Was my preteen visitor communicating through this question that she went through a similar childhood and that she did not enjoy it or was it the other way round?

Mindless Mayhem

My heart bleeds for my city, Hyderbad. This city, which gets praises and compliments for its cleanliness and beauty from visitors is being abused by pro-Telangana people. And this time their target was the lovely Hussain sagar lake or Tank Bund as it's popularly known. They mindlessly pulled down some statues that dotted this stretch of bund that connected the twin cities - Hyderabad and Secunderabad. Statues of Sri Kirishnadevaraya, Gurujada Apparao, Kandukuri Veereshalingam, Annamacharya and a few others were pulled down - the reason because they were from Andhra region!

But do they understand that these statues represent the Telugu culture. Do they even have an iota of idea the efforts and the number of days that have gone into making what Tank Bund is now (or rather was). I am a witness to the development of Tank Bund as a citizen of this city. I have seen it grow into a beautiful landmark over the years. I remember my father holding my hand and walking me towards each statue and relating the importance of them in our Telugu culture.

If you have to know, I am from Telangana but do not subscribe to the views or acts of these Telangana activists who are being used to fulfill the political aspirations of few.

Back on Blogging Circuit

Am back on blogging circuit after two long years. I have no reasons as to what stopped me from coming here. I just did not feel like.
And then the color green did it or shall I say the magic of this color touched my blog too. The color synonymous for new start, life and abundance just prodded me to shake my lethargy. And, here I am. And this time I made a promise to myself that am going to be regular with posts on my blog.

Green is the New Black for me

I am an ardent fan of the color black. At one point my wardrobe was dominated with outfits in this color. But of late, the color which has caught my fancy is green - dark green, leaf green, lemon green and the shades may go on. And to justify my new found fancy i have bought an outfit in green, a large earring in green, a crystal necklace in multiple hues of green and purchasing a saree in this rich color is on anvil. And yes, your observation is good, I have changed the background of my blog too - to green. Need I say it was black earlier?
Oh! I forgot to mention. One of the walls in my living room is also done up in a shade of olive and dirty green :)

PS: Catch a glimpse of the wall paper in my living room and the green drop earrings