Sarojini's Thoughts

Traffic King

Another blog about the traffic in my part of the world. Traffic King. Not trafficking as in drugs or any other entity that can be trafficked. Traffic King, as in the Lion King.

Where do I begin? From one destination. I embark, look at my watch, to my right, left, front, back, mutter my prayers, trust my brakes and sixth sense, and move. Or endeavor to do so, as my neighbor has decided to do so at the same moment. Very optimistic person, as he looks straight ahead only, and not like the girl under demonic possession in The Exorcist. Yes…that girl with a mile-long tongue and the neck which did a 360-degree rotation which had the audience screaming. Here too, there was some screaming, from my brakes and of course from my husband. After the mandatory “Have a nice day” I venture forth into the killing fields….sorry, Chennai roads.

Certainly it looks very doable, with only a dozen or so vehicles (two-wheelers, three- and four-wheelers as I am not in the juggernaut section yet) which are double parked, some of them in ‘oblique-lie’ as an obstetrician would say. Honk politely at the arthritic old man taking his unwilling grandchild to school and rudely at the bimbo sashaying with a cellphone at her ear and love in her eyes.

Wait…this I have to see….is that a squirrel on top of that boy’s head? No.

Not in that color. And those symmetric geometrically perfect hairless lines over his ears are not the handiwork of a neurosurgeon

On the main road now. The harder level of the game. Where the tough get going as the going gets tough. ‘To go’ is the infinitive form of a verb implying movement. Even if it is only at the speed of 2 cms per minute. Which is the norm in certain stretches. After you cross this sector, you can actually feel the breeze. This does not imply that you can relax even if the traffic signal tells you to. I don’t know about your streets, roads, and highways etc.,. but our traffic lights do. I do know about the cops who are after you for speeding, shooting a red, giving you tickets, though.

Here you are cautioned by hoardings which inform you that ‘Smoking is injurious to health’, ask you not to ‘Drink and drive,’ or use cellphones while driving. As if anyone cares! Actually depriving oncologists, orthopedicians, and neurosurgeons of their living. A little sentimental tug, when you are informed (by the billboard) that your family is waiting for you at home. By the way, this is strategic, as nobody ever tells you about your boss waiting for you at work. Sorry for meandering, like that arrogant biker who believes in wedging his bike into every vacant gap between moving and stationary vehicles. We have a term for it. Cycle gap. Go for it! Die in it! Ruin some fool’s life whether you and your pillion (which of the four?) rider/s survive or succumb.

Actually I am complaining too much. My professional skills have been honed by decades of driving in such traffic. Screening the hordes for the hidden cop, having razor-sharp reflexes for braking on time, timing it for not catching a red….Talking of red, how do the color-blind drive? Are they told that the light on top is the one where you stop if you want to…sorry, have to?

To some, physics is dry and boring. Radiophysics (physics of radiology) is confusing also. A subject where one law or rule contradicts the other and makes perfect sense. Radiologists and radiotherapists will agree. If any aspirant has a problem in understanding how a ‘bombarded electron’ travels, they just have to drive down East Coast Road. One cannot travel from point A to point B in a single straight line. Without hitting or getting hit by any moving or stationary physical presence. Got it? Now Fleming’s left hand thumb rule is nothing!

Expect the unexpected. You never know what is around the corner. Or straight ahead of you. The speeding Pondy bus, the sputtering share-auto who halts (ahead of you) when you accelerate, these are now ingrained in your sixth sense. You know that the tipsy man is going to keel over exactly over there, or wag his finger repeatedly in his argument with his opponent from vaporland right next to you, BUT, you did not expect that buffalo/cow to materialize in your blind-spot, or stretch its forelimb out on the tar road, in your line of motion, out of the blue! And look so oblivious to its surroundings, somehow giving you the impression that this is what it exactly wanted, like the sun-tanning bikini beauties in Baywatch?

This, this, this is where my heart leaves its anatomical location, like the hearts in the Candy Crush game. Normalcy and acceptance replace denial several seconds and unsolicited endorsements of your driving skills (or the lack thereof) later.

I have seen these signs before: “Deer Crossing, School Zone, Dangerous Curve Ahead,” but never one that read “Buffalo/Cow Relaxing”.

Maybe because this relaxing does not occur at one designated spot. It can occur anywhere or everywhere, anytime. And that is why I have named this blog, my second one on Traffic as “Traffic King” declaring the bovine species Regents of the Road.

Happy driving. Don’t drink and drive. Speed kills. Your family is waiting for you at home.

And a buffalo is waiting on the road!

I’m tired…

I am tired of doing the impossible for the ungrateful. Words spoken by Denzel Washington in and as Roman J Israel Esq. These words resonate with my own thoughts and feelings.

Yes. This is what I have been doing in my professional and personal life, for decades, while I could not place my finger on what was bugging me. “Seemingly impossible” is more appropriate, as I have really gone out there, and did those things I did. Some criticism, some accolades. The criticism when constructive, taught me, and when unfair and became increasingly so, started the erosion of my psyche.

At one time, I seriously considered changing my passwords into ” Doormat” with variations. I thought and believed that I was only doing my duty and so I persisted in drenching myself with masochism. Till a little red flag started waving in my brain, and my spinal cord and brain rebelled.

Alfred Lord Tennyson’s poem ” The Charge of the Light Brigade” and the song “Bridge over Troubled Waters” seemed to have been written for me.

“Theirs not to reason why…..theirs but to do and die”…..How many of you are living like this?

Years of servitude, condescension, false smiles, and promises that died before they exited the lips.

A caterpillar withdrew into a cocoon and emerged one day as a red butterfly.

A lump of clay reinvented itself.

The doormat transformed into a flying carpet…still flying, but with a destination in sight.

There is no looking back now, no regrets…..as I choose to believe that I have been inhaling, but not really breathing in the oxygen (from the remaining few trees), not letting my cells or soul to live.

I was tired, so I slept. I also slept to dream, but now I have woken up to chase those dreams, “dream them into my life” as I heard in another song.

Go on, I see your smiles of derision, hear you tittering…..

But I also see your jaws dropping and eyebrows touch your hairlines, and the smile is mine!

Thank you, Roman J, Israel Esq. My compliments to the scriptwriter, for shaking me out of my lethargy.

The Truth About Gyms

Gymming is committment…an in estment in your physical and mental health.
Of course you need reasons to bunk initially, till you are steadfast for three weeks.
Than it becomes a habit.
The first changes show on your rosy skin.
Don’t worry about weight fluctuations…as these are due to fluid loss and gains are due to muscle build up.
Stay hydrated, and if you do develop cramps(do to water and electrolyte loss).

Breaks are a must as the body repairs, and the changes are most evident after a break!
Carry on burning muscle.
Elderly hummers…do have an eye on your renal function!

Bombay Ficus

The pressure to get fit is real. I gave in at the beginning of the year and purchased a gym membership. Since then I have learnt a hell of a lot and I though I would share some truths about getting fit with you lovely people.

Starting and staying committed is the hardest part.

For the first 2 weeks I used to have a minor breakdown over having to go to the gym. I would feel amazing straight after the workout, but the build up to it I would be like a 2 year old throwing a tantrum. After the two weeks of going to a class every other night it stopped feeling like torture and began to be something I would wake up looking forward to. Your adjustment time might be quicker than mine just don’t give up straight away!

Eating contributes more to weight gain or loss than…

View original post 459 more words

On Crossing Roads

ON CROSSING ROADS

Why did the chicken cross the road…..to get to the other side.

Why do you cross the road? Same reason.

HOW do you cross the road? Yes you in India. Be honest.

* You wait for the walk sign and then make the move.

* You walk right across, with the confidence of Jesus over water, with faith in your deities and planets, and total disregard for the idiot motorists and two wheelers baking in the sun.

You shoot out your hand, ordering the traffic to stop, not even making eye contact as those looks could kill and jay walk. The faith that you repose in the longevity of your life, and the integrity of our brakes….

*And where do you look when you start? Invariably at traffic on the other side!

You ARE determined to get to the “other side” isn’t it?

Dear Jaywalker, there are some things known as traffic rules, hit and runs, fractures and death.

If you want to end your life, do not choose my car for your decimation. There are umpteen ways.

Wait for the walk sign… traffic on both sides should normally stop.

There are automatic voice prompts that tell you, give you a countdown actually, and men in uniform called traffic police, in case you need help.

Look below, for the pedestrian crossing, wait for the signs to change, hold on to or carry your child, and JUST IGNORE THE CELL PHONE.

Let the phone not outlive you!

Of course these rules do not apply in front of the liquor outlets. So it is the drivers of vehicles who need to follow unwritten rules.

Expect the unexpected. The Old Monk makes men meander, and choose to sleep, on burning roads by the medians.

DON’T DRINK AND DRIVE, DON’T DRINK AND WALK, DON’T BE SOBER AND JAYWALK!

HE WHO COMMUTES THE PROPER WAY, MAY LIVE TO COMMUTE THE NEXT DAY.

What’s for Lunch?

WHAT’S FOR LUNCH?

Are you thinking of that now?

A question that bothers me every morning. All the stuff is there- can’t my husband and the maid figure it out? Something nice and nutritious. Anyway there is Swiggy or Zomato….I still see them on the road, the ones I have not totalled for driving with a death wish to deliver some lazy bug’s food (self included).

Anyway….I was in the car one day, waiting for my husband who had stepped out to commit suicide-buy a pack of cigarettes I mean. I was gazing at the street vendors piling up their little mounds of tomatoes and brinjals, haranguing with overfed women who wanted more for less and were examining every vegetable like a gemmologist analyzing a stone for impurities. There was this newspaper mart, with the flapping single sheets with scandalizing headlines like the 7G scam, glamour queen elopes with lift operator, one more church/mosque/temple vandalized….you know the trend. Right next to it was a butcher’s shop. Dangling corpses of animals, a butcher mindlessly chopping away, his customers waiting….

As ever I looked without seeing, just hoping that the poor animals didn’t feel any pain at the fateful moment. Tied to a pole in the butcher’s shop was a goat, there for obvious reasons, to which it was oblivious. It was tugging and chewing up the flapping sheets of newspapers, and getting away with it. This goat was delighted at it’s free meal, not knowing that soon it was going to be someone else’s meal! Newsprint and all. Ignorance IS bliss, when it is terror to be wise or aware.

The goat got the news (not about it’s own fate), the butcher would get the goat’s throat, someone will get the meat, and a platter of mutton biriyani or keema something would be served to someone else. Protein, fat, carbs, vitamins, minerals and predigested and assimilated newsprint ink.

Would it flavour the meat? Don’t some people eat the intestines too?

Straight to the muscles and body organs via the blood. Hit the kidneys and liver before that.

Hey doc, this can’t be the first time it is happening. Do people realize what is happening?

Should I buy that goat? But soon it will be replaced with another….

Should I warn all the shopkeepers?

There will simply be an uproar…..Un velaya patthuttu pomma….Aaya, pozhappai kedukkadhey!

(Mind your own business and go. Grandma you have come to spoil our business).

Enter the husband, train of meaty thoughts cut! But stored away….for this blog.

You know what, one man’s meat CAN BE HIS OWN poison!

THE HAIRCUT

Never ever take anything for granted, unless you have the guts to live through a different outcome. That’s it. Even a haircut. Wait did I just say…even? Sorry. Especially a haircut is more appropriate.

As usual I breezed into my hairdresser’s salon, expecting her to be there, waiting to transform shaggy me into ever-so-smart me. But she was away, on a long vacation. There are very few hairdressers who are good at cutting hair in the style that I sport. I asked the parlour staff, and most took a step back, eagerly volunteering to cut my husband’s vestigeal strands.

One boy, stood with arms folded, saying that he would do it, looking steadfastly into my eyes. Amazed at his confidence, I took the chair, condescending saying….just a trim will do.

And the snipping began. Normally I am so relaxed with a haircut, more than I am with shavasan also. But then the racing of the thoughts began….

It is said that one has about forty thousand thoughts in a day. And I exhausted that quota during THE CUT.

What a smart boy, so confident…

Good. One more special person in my life.

Anyway what’s the big deal? It is only a haircut.

This long for a trim? He is still at the nape of my neck.

Listening to waves is relaxing. Snip snip snip is not.

What if the style is not right?

Stop thinking. Hair grows. Even in a dead body. No you fool, that is only the skin contracting making the already grown but hidden hair prominent.

About time to open your eyes Sarojini. Do it now!

I did and looked at the floor like a demure bride. Soooooo much hair, and all around my chair!

They need not be yours, idiot, the cleaning lady is sweeping all the greys.

Greys? Who else is int he parlour, that too with greys.

No one. Just me. My husband has a few of his few hairs grey, and he was beginning to look human, in the reflection.

Conclusion….all that was my hair, and this was no trim.

Okay. Let it go. You can sport a full botch better than a partial one.

What has Ramakrishna Paramahansa said about thoughts….watch them, let them go…do not chase them.

But they are not your thoughts at all, they are from the Universal thought bank.

Why would the Universe have thoughts about my haircut?

Shut up.

Did I miss some beats? Is my left bundle branch block acting up?

What is the rate of hair growth? What use is there in knowing the speed of light and sound ?

I should have taken an extra tablet for my blood pressure. My sugar will spike with this stress.

This too shall pass….chin up!

“Madam please lower your head”

You should not stifle a sneeze, except during a haircut.

Should I have asked for general anaesthesia? Maybe next time.

Snip snip snip……buzz buzz…..

“Madam please check”

A mirror was being held at my occiput. That, the frontal and temporal regions were looking ….GOOD!

The outcome of the fallout was excellent!

I thanked the kiddo and complimented the beaming boy and touched terra firma again.

I left the parlour, wondering if the boy was good at liposuction as well!

Introduce Yourself (Example Post)

This is an example post, originally published as part of Blogging University. Enroll in one of our ten programs, and start your blog right.

You’re going to publish a post today. Don’t worry about how your blog looks. Don’t worry if you haven’t given it a name yet, or you’re feeling overwhelmed. Just click the “New Post” button, and tell us why you’re here.

Why do this?

Because it gives new readers context. What are you about? Why should they read your blog?
Because it will help you focus you own ideas about your blog and what you’d like to do with it.

The post can be short or long, a personal intro to your life or a bloggy mission statement, a manifesto for the future or a simple outline of your the types of things you hope to publish.

To help you get started, here are a few questions:

Why are you blogging publicly, rather than keeping a personal journal?
What topics do you think you’ll write about?
Who would you love to connect with via your blog?
If you blog successfully throughout the next year, what would you hope to have accomplished?

You’re not locked into any of this; one of the wonderful things about blogs is how they constantly evolve as we learn, grow, and interact with one another — but it’s good to know where and why you started, and articulating your goals may just give you a few other post ideas.

Can’t think how to get started? Just write the first thing that pops into your head. Anne Lamott, author of a book on writing we love, says that you need to give yourself permission to write a “crappy first draft”. Anne makes a great point — just start writing, and worry about editing it later.

When you’re ready to publish, give your post three to five tags that describe your blog’s focus — writing, photography, fiction, parenting, food, cars, movies, sports, whatever. These tags will help others who care about your topics find you in the Reader. Make sure one of the tags is “zerotohero,” so other new bloggers can find you, too.