My Little Log Book

At Paro International airport on the way back to India after an eventful trip. Checked in, security cleared, now waiting for the flight, which is almost 2 hours away, with a fresh brew of the Himalayan Java. Nothing moves without a Java. Quite like this airport. Nice to see an airport that still retains its old world charm. Otherwise all airports look the same these days ... sterile and uniform. The roof has what I call the Bhutanese motto. The checked tiles. The take off was breathtaking. In a fairy tale kind of way. The land of Dragons and the Yeti seen from the sky. Would love to come here in different climates. And explore the ancient country more. Airport Toilets.. the Paro toilet was squeaky clean. Now coming to India. Why can't we have Indian type toilets? Western toilets are being used by most urban householders and they are the target customers for airlines. But can't we have simple India style toilets that many ladies are still comfortable using? Every time I see a...

Camera - checked Cash - checked Comfortable shoes and dual purpose sandals - checked Medicine - general Sunscreen / face cream Mosquito repellent Pee Safe Tissues Sufficient Winter clothes since I don't wish to spend my nights shivering Chargers Socks Sufficient pairs of jeans tees undergarments Lip gloss, ear studs and other wee accessories Passport And again sufficient cash and cards So goes a checklist before my journey. All packed and ready to start. Despite the longish looking checklist. I pack quite light (or so I think). It's International Women's Day. Don't know why only one day should be women's Day or various other days... but somehow fitting to be starting off on a car rally to Bhutan on this day!

The planning for the trip is well under way. The flag off from Kolkata to Siliguri has started. Though we will join at a later date at Siliguri, our vehicle, an Ecosport has already gone ahead. We will be flying to Siliguri, driving from there to Thimpu and then again flying back home because to a real constraint of time. It is Time Speed Distance Rally. So a bit apprehensive that might not be able to soak in the sights. Anyways... that can happen on another trip!

Here I was sitting in the movie hall a few hours back, when I get a phone call. Not sure if it was Bajaj Finance or whoever, I text back asking them to connect later. The caller was persistent and the number didn't look like a mass marketing number. I took the call in the middle of an intense scene (Haha I am joking, the movie was Sonu ka Tittoo Ka Sweety) and the caller said she was Sridevi from Kolkata. It was interesting enough for me to text back, apologising for not being able to take the call. Well turned out it was Sridevi, an acquaintance I had made when I was doing the TSD Rally at Kolkata. She gave me some rambling explanation, the gist of which was she needed a navigator for a TSD car rally to Thimpu from Siliguri. Really? I like to think I am not one to jump into situations. And I take calm considered decisions. So a few phone calls - to the organizers, to my employers -  and I am ready for Bhutan. In a calm considered manner. So there's an upcoming car ra...

I was walking home from school Running along, skipping along Playing hide and seek In the deep jungle trails Loving their many secrets Chasing the dappled shadows The bag on my shoulders My meagre notes and books Forgotten in my wonder world A smile on my lips As I went hush hush after a squirrel ...Stepping on a twig Was the noise very loud? What did I hear? Was that more twigs breaking? Foolishly, still unconcerned As I spy the squirrel again, But not for long... They creep up Trample the mossy bed Chase away the sun's rays And give a howl of laughter So I know they are near With no place to go, No place to hide Have you seen hyenas Hunting sniffing playing with their prey I am the prey The bloody boots finally leave With my smile... hunger satiated Over my trodden bag, broken body That was not the end My halting story uttered Hunted, haunted, deserted My tale twisted, my virginity plundered Many times over I was a pariah, thrown...

I don't think any subject can aspire to be as aspiring or as all comprehensive as architecture. People think architects only learn to make plans. No. They are taught to have an eye for colour, rhythm, pattern, taught distinctive styles ranging from the medieval to modern, taught climatic conditions and what type of built environment suits each one, taught about materials, old and new, learn about construction and structural techniques ranging from stone, bricks, steel, concrete to present day  new age materials. History, sociology, botany, a bit of geology all form a part of what they need to know. Truly, botany? Right! They need to understand plants and know which types provides what kind of shade and goes with which type of environment! Plus obviously they learn drawing plans, elevations, sections to represent all that they know. Wait. They don't just sit at a computer and start drawing plans. They spend a couple of years practising drafting on a drawing board. Then th...

Of Many Colours I wore blue today. Royal Blue That is how I feel when I step out under the winter sky Bluebells on the hedges, blue bougainvilleas with their fluttering dry paper leaves Ice cold blue with blue bangles You had better keep your distance from me So they don’t offend you, my blue veins that stand out Getting up in the morning, taking my bath at dawn Washing those left over dishes And drying those cold clothes I wore blue today To feel the glitter in my blue eyes, for I am tired of feeling grey Is pink my colour? It gives the colour to my cheeks When my husband brings me a gift But more often when my in laws point out my mistakes I can hide under my pink lips, bangles and ribbons The blushes turn to anger soon Again that is pink and can be kept under wraps Like my pink dupatta which hid my embarrassment From the repulsive maulings Of a revered teacher or a co-passenger or a kin So I wear a brighter pink To hide behind...