Surviving the Mumbai heat in a cramped Worli Apartment

Not a very appeasing title is it? Too bad, because I can really write about nothing else at the moment. You could say that my brain is ‘fried’ - and this is not a metaphorical declaration. Blessed to work in super 'cool' office premises and cursed to live in a rented flat where you cannot bring in an air conditioner. Did I mention that the flat is on the 4rth floor of a 21 storeyed building which, wait for it, is overshadowed by a more huge - more massive - 110 storeyed building! Wait some more... this looming overshadowing building's facade blocks the view from the only windows you have, and if you are actually still waiting and still reading for some more of the irony of life - this huge building stands between you and the famed Worli Sea Face.

Yes, the very same face of the sea where thousands of faces can be seen throughout the day - some faces trying to feel the cool breeze while ignoring the omnipresent stench, while other faces are not visible because they are pressed deeply and passionately into yet other faces. Okay now all of our minds are wandering onto more pleasant thoughts, so let us get back to the unpleasant task at hand.

 Literally quite close to, yet figuratively quite far from the cool breeze and the passionate loving of the Worli Sea Face, is my house, and the aforementioned huge building (still getting built by the way so let’s not discount the dust and noise) which is doing an effective job of ensuring that I can quite effortlessly forget about the breeze from the sea. It’s the kind of nice, yet on the cheaper side of rentals available in Worli - something I could afford amidst the mindblastingly staggering rental rates here. So I was quite pleased with myself, in fact I still am, for when the windows are wide open there is still quite a nice breeze managing its way in from Lord- knows-where.

 Honestly, I cannot and will not blame my choice of the flat for this post - its the heat.. the unrelenting heat - the heat waves that are generating such news waves that my colleague all the way from Jakarta pings me at work if I am late and checks if I am okay and whether it’s the heat that has gotten to me and delayed me. Little had I known this temperature and this torture was waiting to engulf the flat when I had calmly smiled at the broker's 'No AC Allowed' disclaimer - something about a society with a shared meter system or something. The place was so cool and breezy that day, that I didn’t know weekends in the months of April and May were going to suck the life out of me.

 So what have I been doing to survive the weekends? (YES, thankfully just the weekends because CS takes care of my cooling needs during the week.)
 Have I mentioned my two baby cats - I cannot call them kittens now - they are too huge. I have taken a page (in fact two) out of their survival tactics. And these two tips are the most useful for me :
Sleep on the floor in the afternoons on a jute mat (Since I have one or for my reader just the plain floor is good enough) They do tend to come and plonk themselves on my tummy but that little bit of warmth is kind of nice and my heart goes too mush-mush to object to this.
Drink lots and lots of water (in fact one my cats just hugs the water bowl and sits there sipping frequently)

 Other things I do -

Wear minimal clothing and when I say minimal I actually mean close to none. When I am home alone it’s just me and my tee and when someone drops by - I pick up the boxers.
Tie up my hair at all times. Yes I have chopped off my hair but what little I have - I pin it up and work it into the funniest little ponytail.
Go in the evening with preferred companions to the Worli Sea Face - which is popping up so many times in this post.
Don’t walk - just don’t walk when you can take a cab. What….You are health conscious..? Hmmmm.. I see….. not dying of a heat stroke is considered quite healthy in most places.. so again DONT WALK. You can indulge your walk-everywhere tendencies when the sun is not shining.
Take frequent showers - I do this as a cooling service to myself and as social service to my friends.
 Buy Tang.. or Rasna.. or ORS.. and drink lots and lots of it.
Forget about any activity and just read, with a bottle of water ready at hand... OR maybe keep the mind busy concocting pointless posts like this one.
Keep the extra cushions at bay - people who have come home will tell you that I have a penchant for cushions - I have a tiny space and way too many cushions - but the last few weeks very few of them have been put out to strut their images/slogans and other stuff - they find themselves stacked unimaginatively one on top of the other in a corner - I have seen that contact with too many of those when I am lazing makes me warm (not in a good way) and irritable!

 I am doing my bit - trying to survive and not die till the monsoons hit us, and biding my time till I can write pretty sounding, poetic sounding posts on how the pitter patter of the raindrops is making me feel. Oh wait … I have already done that once during the first months of this blog.. ....will have to think of something else this monsoon.

CLICK HERE to read the monsoon post.. I reread my own post to relive some of the magic that's monsoon in Mumbai! And it added to my final tip - remember what it feels like during the better times and wait for it..

 If you guys have any additional tips to help me survive. - without a cooler and an AC and with two overenthusiastic fur babies (who are so active in the atfernoons that it makes me sweat just to look at them!), then please do let me know. I know my so called tips aren’t exactly a path-breaking revelation - but well this post gave me something to do besides sit and crib about the heat. Dear Surya - Consider this uninspiring post my ode to your brilliant rays - and reduce the heat a bit dear Lord!

The story of how I have been 'planning' to write a story book!

It was out of sheer boredom that late on a Sunday night, after I had exhausted all my sources of browsing through social media, twitter, pinterest .. even a bit of reddit .. when it suddenly came to me - I had a blog set up - lets go to blogger.com and refresh memories. Yayy!

Then when I do come on to the site, I see that my last post was over one and a half years ago. And the posts before that even more sporadic. Only the first few months of blogging I would religiously put up a post every now and then. This from a person who thought she was going to publish an awesome book by the time she reached THIRTY. Yes, I have wanted to write a book - a love story mainly, because I realise that love is what has always, and will continue to be what has always given me the most enthusiasm.

Well, that's not even the point - not what I wanted to do and what I wanted to write. The point is I am thirty one and I have not even put down a single word. Yes, I have always had a rough story line etched out in my mind, I have also discussed it in detail with my buddy Sarat - we have thought of names for the book, and discussed the editing and the publishing.

Yet here I am, story-less and even draft-less, only shocked at my laziness, I have not even updated my blog regularly. Should I blame it on my job, my schedule, my timings, the fact that the last year had seen a lot of ups and downs in my family life, the fact that I was too busy attending a BFF's wedding, or that I was looking for the perfect pets to adopt. What should I blame it on, it cant be apathy after all! (we are all living in denial, aren't we - so why should I be the exception after all)

Friends, encourage me, I know so many of you had thought of things you wanted to do before you reached a certain age. Things you wanted to 'accomplish' besides milestones in the career you chose...or the career that chose you. I am setting myself a new deadline, thirty three - and I am announcing it publicly (well at-least to the 15/20 people who will bother to read my post :P ) So if in 2 years' time you see my name on your Amazon deal list, then give me a call and tell me how proud you are of me, otherwise give me a call and laugh at me to my face (ear).

Meanwhile Deba be working hard, in office, at life and at her new book.. and oh yes this blog too! Signing off. 

Being a Bridesmaid....(ha ha the most usless bunch of Bridesmaids

I started writing this post on 14th June 2011. It’s been more than 2 years that this started. Somehow I had kept it pending because I had wanted this to be an awesome piece – an awesome piece to do justice to one of the most awesome weeks of our lives. It was legendary without doubt…. – the first wedding in our group – and so much has happened since then- they have just had Aria – one of the cutest most adorable babies that I have ever seen, and I am not just saying that – if you have seen her pic then you agree – so here is a pic of hers.

 In fact thinking about Aria and Pravs and Ike and their wedding was what prompted me to dig into my long abandoned BlogSpot account – because I had a sudden brainwave that reminded me of this long forgotten post and Aria’s pretty face gave me the impetus to finish writing it.
I want to start by saying – we all miss you Aunty and we are sure you are smiling the most today looking down at Aria – the little angel you packed and sent down from heaven..
Let’s rewind to the wedding ; A lot has since happened – the biggest news being Andy too got married!! I would like to finish this post of Prav’s wedding now and dedicate it to none other than Aria – who will have a glimpse into the wedding – the ‘union’ – that has brought her into this world. You have great parents baby, and they had a great wedding – so here goes – well this was written 2 years back and in a very emotional state so if you find the English weird please don’t cringe…

 

The title can be misleading, but my best friend's wedding, the girl who then went by the name Praveena Rebecca Fenn, had the worst bridesmaids and the best friends one could ever wish for! Hell, I am jealous of her for having the super coolest bridesmaids ever. And I am the only one that can be jealous cos all the rest of them are gonna have these same super cool bridesmaids, except me! Yeah Yeah the only non-christian!

So this post has been long overdue, what with my mind being otherwise preoccupied ever since I got back from the wedding, oh and in between all the madness I was bridesmaid for David Dawson's beautiful wife, Zoro, too. But that story's for another post.

So I reach Calcutta after weeks and weeks of prior planning, and the only three things on my mind - my besties, Biriyani and Booze. The first ones I had met were Andrea and Angela, and where - CCD! Does that sound a lil too mundane for us, you bet your a$$ it is way too mundane for us. That was just the place where we got done with all our hugs and kisses and lame formalities. After we had sufficiently scandalised the staff and customers of CCD, we came up with the most brilliant idea, I am sure it was entirely originated by Angi though! "Lets Booze!" That thought dint take us too much pondering and I immediately called up super resourceful sister Tinni whose knowledge of the watering holes in Kolkata far surpasses that of any other girl that I know. Yet again she did not disappoint me and we set off walking along the road adjacent to Vivekananda Park looking for "The Wrong Place" (hey that actually was the name of the pub and its a GREAT PLACE, be sure to check it out if and when you are in the City of Joy)

According to Angi, that walk was one of the most memorable walks she has ever had - I guess having me and Andy for company can make the boring roads of Calcutta seem like those of Paris :P I actually made random strangers take pics of us cos I wanted to capture each and every second of this trip (and the girls that scorned me then but are reading this with misty eyes now - hah! I am then having the last laugh, am I not) So here's a pic taken by a random stranger as e were walking to find our watering hole. And then a couple of pics inside the WRONG PLACE and outside, after we were sufficiently sloshed. At this point I am also going to add a NEBHARTHELESS cos this was my first encounter with this word that haunts me to this day, but only those closest to me will ever know what I am talking about - and oh thats so not for a public forum!!



inside

Karo, Pravs and Vina had all called us by then and were extremely jealous and irritated that they couldnt be with us.

But the fun times were just starting, what followed next was the gala reunion at Angi's house. We left for New Market right after that and had khiri rol for the sake of nostalgia, but the shady UP Bihar restaurant (thats actually what it was called, I wasnt being regional :P), disappointed us. For the first time the food was as gross as the utensils that it was served in. Praveena, the beautiful bride to be may have added a few grey hairs to her otherwise beautiful head in trying to reach all of us and get us to reach the dress trials on time.

That was when I met her for the first time and she looked as glowing nd resplendent as a bride could ever be. After we were done trying on the pretty bridesmaids dresses we all went for a walk down memory lane as we went to the Pantaloons on Camac strteet, to buy the chic bride some Indian attire.

We had chai on the road – a must-have experience on a chilly evening in Kolkata. Nothing like it – the tea just smells and tastes different, thanks to the ‘bhaar’ the earthen clay pot that they serve the chai in. well then Andy, Angy and i went back to Angy’s place and bought some rum. Angy’s mom is the world’s second best cook – and I think the entire Gomes family got scandalized by how much Angela’s friends can eat. (that was then – I am sure they are used to it by now – comment added 09/11/2013) Karo Kumar the journalist landed from Mumbai and did us the honor of joining us right – away. What followed was an entire night of alcohol and photo shoots … and so so much fun.

Night out @ Angis

The next day we left for Andy’s house and after a brief stopover and some amazing pork chops we left for New Market. Karo and Angy bought shoes – Angy had never worn heels before – but for Pravs wedding she said she would do anything!!! Overcome any fear..!!! We then headed to St Pauls’ for the wedding rehearsal and that’s when the much awaited moment arrived – the meeting with the groomsmen and the subsequent ‘ I want that one.. no I want that one ..’ followed – like they were toys that Pravs was handing out to us. Pravs needless to say was appalled and told us in her typical firm and final voice – ‘’ no point girls – we have already decided who walks with who..” I was about to get disappointed but I got the cutest of the lot, so I had my smiles back in place soon enough” .. ha ha ha …
After the rehearsal we hopped over to the Parlor “Prissilia’s (wink)) – skipped across the road to Dreams and had chicken bharta – reminiscent of our college days, and then jumped into a cab to go to Angy’s place and change.

@ The Club

Change for… the Bachelorette!! Yayyyy!!! What a night – nothing went according to plan – we were
terribly late – but hey – we had loads of fun and that’s what counts at the end of the day. LITs and Wine @ Barbeque and then the Sambucas at the club – then Francis uncle’s Tequilas at Andy’s, needless to say we went mad and did a mad dance – so mad that aunty, uncle and Prav’s sis-in law – were thoroughly scandalized. In fact Jen – the SIL, may even have had second thoughts about welcoming Pravs to the family (that was then – now she loves and adores us, right Jen? :) comment added 09/11/2013) – after sufficiently scandalizing everyone we passed out only to wake up the next day to an incredible hangover.



Photo Shoot instead of Dance Rehearsal!

We dragged ourselves to Pravs place for lunch and then did a rehearsal for the dance we had been planning for her reception – it went from a dance rehearsal to a photo shoot. Angy and I went back to her place we did not drink but ‘talked about life’

And well the wedding day was next – from insane hours at the parlour to dressing up and putting all our make-up on together in one room – special mention now to Vina – the make-up Guru among us useless girls – to teaching Angy how to walk in high heels – what a fun filled morning that was!

Hair Done..!

Make-up Guru Vina!

And well the wedding day was next – from insane hours at the parlour to dressing up and putting all our make-up on together in one room – special mention now to Vina – the make-up Guru among us useless girls – to teaching Angy how to walk in high heels – what a fun filled morning that was!

As we reached the church we all looked like pretty dolls and thought nobody could look as pretty as we did that morning and then we saw Pravs and Andy, looking drop dead gorgeous (who being the MOH was with the bride – privileged much? )– OMG! Praveen Fenn… looked even better than Julia Roberts.

The beauty

Ike was positively glowing – at this point I will let the words stop and the pics take over. Simply put, the ceremony was so elegant and so warm and we all had tears in our eyes. Except when we were being photographed by the paparazzi – then we all flashed instant Colgate smiles!!

At the reception we did announce our presence by cheering Pravs loudly when she started crying during her speech – that was actually a very emotional moment for all of us. And then we who were supposed to be distributing the favors and helping with the gifts sneaked up on to the stage and started hogging on the world’s most delicious mutton biriyani. Pravs didn’t know whether to laugh or cry looking at her useless bunch of bridesmaids!

This portion is added on 09/11/2013 – almost 3 years later so a bit brief on the details - After a lot of dancing (we all had changed out of our high heels by then ) we took a lot of pics and then very sadly headed back home. I had a short trip and had to leave almost immediately but Pravs let me tell you today that to this day we all agree that the reunion we had at your wedding is one of the most memorable times in our lives. Payel Kathuria – sorry you missed it. But here are some random pics to relive that event.

Changing Jobs is like Changing Lovers...

The transition from one job to the next ... is pretty much like the transition from one boyfriend to the next.

You only choose to leave a man when he no longer gives you what you need and you don't see a future with him - as you change jobs when the organisation no longer give's a rat's ass about your needs and the future of your career looks absolutely bleak. Well for that matter, the analogy is not just true for jobs and gentlemen but change as a broader concept - you know that its time for a change when that time comes. Its like some innate primitive instinct in you that may not manifest itself openly, but keeps digging away at your subconscious mind leading you to do things to seek change.

Like some old email forwards used to say, you know its time for a change when you are at home on your laptop and you press control+alt+del before you get up, or well in less funnier terms, when you just hate yourself for having to get up and go to that place you hate going to, and when that happens every morning.

Its difficult to get rid of old habits, I have just changed my job - and I still type in my old employee id to log in at my current workplace. Its hilarious and reminded me of stories where my friends had blurted out their ex's names when having a passionate moment with their current flames!!!

Also when you are at a new place everything seems just so much better than the last workplace. Comparisons between the two workplaces are inevitable and I hope that the new one always wins in everyone's case! What is the point of going through a notice period if the first few weeks at your new workplace do not seem like a breeze.

Coming back to my new job, I love it, of course a couple of my friends have been regularly and sanguinely (to my utter disgust) reminding me that its just like having a new boyfriend. Everything seems beautiful and rosy and then slowly the kinks begin to show.

But I do know one thing for sure, that working at a small bank is infinitely more pleasurable than working at a fat-ass huge bank. Everyone at my new workplace is so involved in everyone else's life. Me being the new kid on the block, and also one that's just moved to Mumbai, everyone was hell bent upon finding me suitable accommodation. I of course already had a perfectly awesome place to stay in, and yet everyone right from the HR to the Admin team, to the Accounts team, to the Dealing room members, and of course my very own Treasury colleagues, were all proactively coming up to me and offering phone numbers, addresses, places I should check out etc. The interest flattered me and also made me compare the scenario to my previous workplace where I did not even know the names of half the people in these teams, including the treasury. It's not that they are cold people but the sheer population makes it unfeasible that people would know each other by name and know what was happening in their lives, unless they shared teams or had adjacent cubicles.

The head of HR at my new bank is an adorable guy who thinks nothing of just chilling out with his entire team over a smoke and pull their legs over how desperate they are for free dinners! In fact he even told me that if I offered them free dinner they'd not just explain my local train route to me, but even drop me home! I know maybe it doesn't seem that big a deal to people who already work in fun work environments, but for me, coming from the previous job that I had, it seems like a dream come true, cos only if you are lucky you are blessed with the change that I was talking about at the beginning of this blog. I don't need to change my career, in which I am doing fairly well, and yet I have obtained the change that I was looking for - a fun bank environment to work in!

Yes, bankers are boring, that's a universal truth, but work becomes that much better by just a bit, when these boring bankers transform into crazy fun regular people on their breaks! I hope this part is really not like changing a boyfriend - where I get to know him better only to loathe his company more, or when I love him and his company, but he does something to let me down severely!

I end my blog with a not-so-silent prayer - Dear God, Thank you for this job, and PLEASE let my bubble not burst this time around! Amen!

Monsoon in Mumbai

Rain Rain go away,
come back again soon but not when I am on my way,
for when I reach office I wanna be dry as hay,
and then you come back for me to enjoy while I'm indoors all day.
A worse yet most apt adaptation of the age old Little Johnny wants to play - ' not lil johnny who is the brunt of all adult jokes' - to suit the Mumbai Monsoons.

This time around its my second stint in Mumbai, and I find myself just as captivated, irritated, mesmerized and disgusted with the constant rains as I was the first time I lived through it. Monsoon in Mumbai is probably one of the most dreaded yet most awaited seasons of the year. There simply is something about the lashing rains on the crowded streets that awakens a sense of romanticism in almost everyone in the city. The best part for me is to observe how indifferent people are to the pouring rain, whether or not they are prepared to face the wrath of the awe-inspiring heavy grey thunder clouds. I thought of blogging on the rains in Mumbai, as I walked down the streets in Powai to meet my friend who was waiting patiently in some sought out shelter, I was filled with silent glee at the perfect opportunity to 'have no choice but get drenched' as he was waiting. And as I was filled with all these self indulgent emotions, I also noticed that everyone else around me too was making their way through the rain, some enjoying it, some seeming indifferent to it, but no one looked disgusted by the rain.

The ones that had dead pan expressions and seemed lost in some other thought, oblivious to the fact that they were getting wet right to their bones, were the true Mumbaikars, and the ones that fascinated me the most. There's something so innately resilient about them, like you take one look at them and know that nothing can get them down, neither all the rain in the world nor all the bomb blasts. I too hope that one day I would walk down the streets looking as indifferent and unaffected as they did in the rain, but for now I was just loving it.

After meeting my friend and deciding on the plans for the day, came the part about the monsoon that disgusts me the most, finding transport - specifically a mode of transport that is public. My friend and I ,both true blue Hyderabadis, had to walk for about 40 minutes in the pouring rain towards our destination before we could finally convince an auto guy to 'kindly do us the favour' of dropping us off to wherever he thought was convenient for HIM. My friend was disgusted at the absolutely rude and brazen attitude of the auto drivers, and yet he seemed to be enjoying himself a little through all the disgust that was showing on his face. We then had to take a cab till we were almost home and then walk the rest of the way in the still pouring rain.

As we reached home, drenched to the core, I observed to myself that this was probably a very mundane experience the average Mumbaikar had to experience on a daily basis, and yet the experience seemed so exciting to me. Not to say I wasn't thinking of it as an extremely irritating ordeal that I had just gone through, but that was the thing about Mumbai and its rains, you can love them and hate them at the same time. In no other city would you be able to stand at the Worli Sea Face or sit at Marine drive while there was a slight drizzle, and watch the waves breaking against the rocks and feel the fine spray of the breaking waves right up to your eyelids. Even in Wake Up Sid, it seems only right that the story comes together, along with its hero and heroine, when the rains start pouring, and remind us of the scene where Sid, the home-grown Mumbaikar had earlier told the recent immigrant Aisha that she was 'going to love the Mumbai rains.'

Well I certainly didn't need any Sid to tell me the first time that I was gonna love the rains in Mumbai, I simply did. The rains transformed the city but never changed its spirit. This year now, the rains have only just started here and going by the trends over the last 3 years, I am still going to have plenty of time to enjoy getting drenched to the core, or to curse the clouds for breaking out just as I step out for work, or to love seeing the street children running around in the 'cats-and-dogs' kinda rains, or to screw my nose up in disgust as a car splashes all the muddy dirty water on my freshly ironed clothes... lots of time to do it all and love all of it and hate it all the same.

I just got back from my best friend's wedding, and what memories I have. As Angela Gomes, my best friend, advisor, and soul mate :P would say - most prevalent are the memories that revolve around food. At a time when I am on this semi-bland diet and I have just returned from Kolkata - the only thing I thought was worth writing about was food, because I curse the day I decided to lose weight... :) I want to give this post the title - 'The Bong Food Fetish'. The idea was actually born a few months back in Bombay and it evolved from Madhu, a colleague of mine and a good friend and a Bengali, and all the time we would discuss either food or men ( the latter was actually less frequent)

Then I had decided to blog about this bong food fetish.

It is a rare Bengali whose mouth doesn't water at the thought of Malai Chingri, Doi Maach, Eelish mach, Chitol maacher muitha, Kasa Maangsho, Mutton Chaap, Biriyani.......oh my gawd .. I cant even complete this sentence without drooling. I mean twisting the adage 'eat to live' and saying that we (most bongs) 'live to eat' would be like a boring cliche, an understatement, an undeserved and un-needed testimony to the sheer passion we feel about eating good food.

Every day Dad and Mom would sit down at the breakfast table and decide the menu for the day taking inputs from me and dadabhai, and this was a scene from not just my home, but literally every Bengali household, whether you lived in Hyderabad, Kolkata, Sydney, Toronto, or Washington DC. the planning of the day's menu forms an integral part of the plan for the day. and the discussions are not restricted to just ' make this curry and this rice ' its more like ohh ok make this kind of curry and to compliment that u can make this kind of rice and then a chutney to satiate the taste buds, and of course one vegetable curry preferably with some shrimp in it though.... It has to be an elaborate and well planned spread, every day, every meal!

I mean... Hello.. which other culture has so ingeniously woven into each recipe the possibility of adding some non-veg item, a theoretical recipe where you can add fish to dal, bottlegourd, brinjal, potol, etc would probably make others balk while we Bengalis would drool at even the thought of the aromas that nostalgia would bring.

I also sincerely hope that all these legendary recipes that were best in our grandmummy's kitchen and passed down to our mummy's kitchens do not die out with the generations to come, because nobody seems to show too much of a keen interest in the elaborate steps and intricate details that combine to give birth to the most perfect tastes and aromas. There still are a few that keep the fires burning ( not a reference to clay ovens, cause nobody uses those anymore :P) Tina Di, Payel, my boudi :) ... they seem to actually enjoy cooking and don't tread too much on the quick fix path of microwave dinners.

I have to stop writing now and get back to my oats - the pork chops will have to wait - till I stop resembling the species that they are made of.... :P Bye... abrupt end... but very hungry all this thinking about food has made me!

Dedicated to all the bongs all over the world... and other foodies!!

Paperbacks rule- the lost art of reading

Reading books - this hobby brings to mind the following charming picture for me - cuddling up under a blanket made warm and reading and re-reading worn out books that have been your all-time favorites. I have always loved to read, since I was young. But as I grew older, distractions in the form of teenage fads, crushes, movies, friends, outings, studying, getting a job, doing well at the job, and a numerous other things somehow robbed me of this passion. I have fortunately woken up to the realization that a very important part of my being that I loved was slowly disappearing, and I decided to start reading again. I mean I would always read occasionally, but not with the same passion and fervour that accompanied my reading hours in childhood. I was always considered to be a precocious child, but then now when i am grown up and can decide for myself then the adjective turns to dense, as in referring to the 'older' version of me. It has to be, because I don't read, I mean I don't even have the same zeal for reading. Earlier a book started would not be put down till the story was finished. Now I can tarry on a single novel for days..!

The first thing I decided to do was make up a short list of some classics which were long overdue, and then buy them a few at a time over a period of months. Of course, aided by the ever helpful Google.com I was quickly able to narrow down the books I wanted and also the places I could pick them from. Thanks to the amazing world of online shopping, I would not even have to venture out of the cosy air-conditioned confines of my cubicle, and I could have them delivered to my doorstep, literally. So I began my book-shopping and the first three purchases made at Infibeam.com - Wuthering Heights, Lady Chatterlee's Lover, and Far from the Madding Crowd lessened my account balance (again ever helpful net banking facility) and I decided that I would hunt for other books and bookmark them (so to speak) for purchase the next month.

During this hunt for good and affordable copies of Gone With the Wind, Guns of Navarone, and Dr. Zhivago - I stumbled upon links that offered me the privilege of simple clicking on the link and downloading the e-book for free. I was super-thrilled at first and quickly started hunting for more links of all the other books I wanted. It became this maddening mission of mine to collect all the world's greatest classics for free in the friendly htm or pdf versions. I was aided plenty - it was hardly difficult. Every search string comprising the words 'free ebook download of ...'the title'... returned innumerable hits. At first I downloaded, then I began carefully compiling folders on my laptop, author-wise, category-wise, and so on. Then I went ahead and emailed and called other friends who had similar tastes and they in turn shared with me some more such amazing sites. where i could go treasure hunting.

As I sat gloating over my suddenly acquired vast collection, I experienced this sinking sensation out of nowhere. I didn't realise what it was I was feeling at the pit of my stomach. As I dug deeper, an image flashed to my mind, and here i would like to go back to the start of this particular post. Reading, once meant more to me than than just gobbling up words and sentences and understanding their meaning and building vocabulary and slotting stories. It once meant the charm of sitting back (or lying back) as it would often be in my case... and allowing myself to be transported into that magical world from the book i was reading. It meant relaxing and sipping on some beverage while feasting on the different situations and experiencing all the emotions that the characters of the book were going through. But now in this world where everything is so magically available at the click of a wand - my pc's mouse, I wonder if I should just prohibit myself from downloading these soulless versions of the books.

Maybe I should not deprive myself of the smell of the pages as they grew older, the warm textures of an oft read book, the yellowing of the covers, maybe instead of investing on pointless trips to crazy flea markets to buy unnecessary accessories I should concentrate on using the contents of my bank account to invest in precious assets- books, treasures I can hand down to my kids. well of course I could also hand down the more easy to maintain ebooks but there is a certain joy is preserving a well written book and finding it on the shelf of your home library. It brings back memories right from the moment you glimpse the cover page. Sigh! I feel better now, Dr Zhivago, I have made up my mind and you'll have to wait till next month to regale me of your wartime stories and love story. Paperbacks rule!