Bonsai

There is something that is not quite right about about Bonsai I tell you! You could be looking at a splendid 100 years old Banyan tree, that has aged gracefully looking all so majestic and wise, but for the small problem that it is only 1 feet tall!

Now I understand that, Bonsai is an art form that only the passionate, the patient, the true nurturer can even dream of creating. But looking at a Bonsai has always made me feel a little queasy in the stomach! To put it simply, it looks like an evil scientist's lab experiment! I mean isn't one altering and twisting a living thing's physical and natural make up for one's selfish amusement for the sake of art after all?

This week, Chitrakala Parishad in Bangalore is holding a Bonsai exhibition. Must admit, my strong opinions about this artform, was slightly given a rest. I sincerely did appreciate the people who painstakingly and so lovingly must have nurtured these plants (or are they called trees?!) A lot of Bonsai- enthusiasts were seen appreciating and sharing notes and clicking pictures..just like me!

Here are some pictures that I clicked.

Onam- reloaded

I have written about my famiy's die hard , uncontain-able enthusiasm when it comes to unabashed display of Mallu-ness here. And when it comes to being the keepers/ promoters/ followers/ patrons of the traditions, culture, customs of the great Mal- land, we would proudly stand united more strongly than volunteers of Chipko movement could ever imagine.

This Sunday, was the the day of the much awaited communal- Onam celebration day. What does that mean? It means the Mallus from 1st block of, the 2nd lane of, the south- western part of Banaglore decided to get together and celebrate Onam. Again. So what if the real Onam has actually happened, celebrated, done and over with some two months ago?

Now, I have had a couple of close encounters and many narrow but successful escapes from being a part of this Onam- frenzy back in Delhi. But Bangalore (and marriage!) changed many things. When I am really saying- "You have to be kidding. Please count me out for heavens sake!", what actually comes out of my mouth is- "WOW! What will I wear? I cant wait!!!"

This year, (this is an annual affair of course, if you haven't figured out yet!) as usual everybody at home was super- excited. Besides the bad karaoke songs, zero- practice stage dance performances by kids , microphone screeches interrupted by inaudible speeches by the president (not of India duh!)- of the organization, bouquet handing to chief guest, prize distribution for 1)essay writing 2)recital 3) drawing 4) chess 5) voodoo doll making... was my family's favorite event!!!!!!!!! Any guesses?


POOKALAM!!!!


This could be my deja- vu, but the family got into plucking, sorting, cutting flowers the previous night of D-day. Again.

But of course this time it was different. This was for a competition. So obviously we were under more pressure than Sheila Dishit doing the finishing touches to the CWG preparations. We came up with a "design". We sketched. We debated. We re- sketched. We spread out newspapers on floor and made life-size design- "lest we made mistakes tomorrow!"


Finally, at the end of this grueling exercise and my husband's sinking patience level, we were ready with an un-beatable kick- ass design, a load of flowers and excitement.

Here is what we did:-

For the uninitiated, this is yellow- bosomed saakshaat- Shakuntala devi

lying down waiting seductively with her aid- Bambi for Dushyanta.

The other contenders for the big prize were:-

You might want to know if we won the prize.. Well, we DIDN'T! :-(

The judges clearly thought our kick- ass Shakuntala was no match to the fantastically symmetric, innovative, and neatly put floral designs made by others... sigh!

  

The girl who kicked the Hornet's nest.

Brrrr!
I have no one to blame why I bought this book, but myself! Shelling 350/- at Crosswords can be a good motivation for not dropping the book mid- way!

Firstly, the book  is a sequel to "The girl who played with Fire". These series are translation from Swedish 'best seller', 'millenium trology'. It is supposed to be a investigative- thriller. But the basic plot and the bulid-up in itself lacked any mettle or any amount of suspense and thrill you expect from a 800 page book.
It is not that the book lacked any fizz at all, there were indeed more than a couple of occasions when you didnt want to keep the book down without knowing what happened next- I can think of the court scene and the part where Lizbeth gets trapped in a ruin- old house with her killer step brother for example.

I dont know why the author was so generous with details- like names of people and streets. Believe it or not, the first chapter itself covered names of about 25 characters and about 15 names of places/ streets- some of which by the way, did not surface again (at least significantly) in rest of the book! On top of that the names were Swedish! Names like Nicander, Blomkvist, Zalanchenko, Tortensson, Ingemarsson, Niedermann, Bublanski, Mia Johansson, Bjurmann, Miriam Wu, and names of places like Goteberg, Lindome, Mosebacke, Trollhattam, Enskede, Nosserbro, Nykvarn, Sodertaje, Sahlgrenska hospital, Vasaplatsen and Svavelsjo Motorcycle club gets a tad difficult to remember!!!!!!!!

Sometimes, you read a book, and think- I'd rather have seen the movie instead. And sometimes you see a movie and think- I'd rather have seen the movie when it came on TV instead. Well, this book was one such. Prrf!


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The Book Thief

First thing I want to tell you about this book, is that I cried! :'( !  It is not anything I am proud of, but I swear I did! Now, I am not a person who cries easily reading a book ("P.S. I love You" is not counted!), but this book got me feeling all low and boo- hoo senti!

The narrative is the most interesting part of the book. The story is told by none other than Death!


The book reminded me of "To kill a Mocking bird" for some reason. The protagonist is a young girl. You would completely relate to her innocence and her playful, light hearted, approach to life.You would be pleasantly surprised that your own child-like quality is not burried as deep inside as you had thought!

Set it Germany in the 1940s, a little girl Liesel Meminger lives with her adopted family, is an avid reader. She spends her simple life reading... being read to by her father (one of the most touching moments).. running errands for her mother.. playing, swimming and cycling with Rudy, her childhood best- buddy..

Not everything is sweet and happy though. In the back ground, are very disturbing and much more grave social realities like poverty, social discrimination, hiding of a Jew in the family's basement, Nazi concentration camps, bomb dropping over random towns etc. But all these is seen through the protagonist's point of view remember? The seriousness and the gory-ness is somewhat cushioned and you start thinking like the little girl, who's life is concerned only with her immediate surroundings.

I will not give away, what happens in the end (and what made me cry!). It is very touching and and will make you value relationships and the importance of expressing yourself at the right time- before it might get too late... sigh..


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The Pregnant King

I picked it up primarily because I was intrigued by its title, and must say I wasn't disappointed a bit! The plot is a fine blend of a completely fictional story &characters along with the famous characters from Mahabharata (which again is debatable if it is fiction or not). The author almost crosses over the fine line of historically charged tales and characters that you have grown up believing and listening to from Mahabharata, and mixes it with a completely make- believe new set of characters and plots, that it leaves you forgetting what is what and makes you absorb in the entire story as it is.

The story explores stereotypical "roles" each gender carries out to adhere to the society one lives in, and questions how the classification of being a male or a female gets altered or is affected when one assumes the role of a gender other than, that of yours.

Dont ask how, but King Yuvanashva gives birth to his son, but that makes him a father or mother?

After queen Shilavati's husband dies, she takes over and rules the kingdom justly and fairly and never lets her kingdom feel the absence of a true king for years. But does that mean she can be called a king?

Shikhandi once a woman, borrows a man's genitals from a yakhsa to prove to her newly wedded wife that she is a man. But what is Shikandi truly? A man or a woman?!

There are many such bizarre twisted situations and plots that is thrown in between the length of the book, that is supposed to leave one thinking.. so what IS it that really makes up for one's gender-construction...(which, I dont think is very pleasant thing to do!) is it the physical attributes, or is defined by the responbilities ones plays out, or is it all "in the mind" after all.. :-p. 

Whatever it is, frankly I dont think the book is supposed to be all thought- provoking or even is a story that you will want to remember and re- tell to your grand children one day!!!!!!!! 

Nevertheless, it is an interesting read and a book that I would say is a pleasure to own.






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Onam

Onam the harvest festival of Kerala, is celebrated to welcome king Mahabali who comes to pay us (by "us" I mean the Mallus strictly!) the annual visit from the deep dark under-ground (literally)! If you are REALLY looking for the tale, then follow this link!

Onam is synonymous with a lavish spread of sadhya:- feast and pookalam:- the design made with flowers one makes in front of their house as a way to usher in Mahabali, prosperity, luck, wealth... Wait a minute.. that was Vishu! 

Let us come back to Onam. :-P

Well, growing up in the concrete jungles of Delhi, this ritualistic flower arrangement routine was conveniently skipped by my mom during Onams! Blame it on lack of as many flowers blooming in Delhi during that season, her 2 lazy kids, or simply the lack of time because I dont remember getting a holiday either from school, college or work on Onam-day.

Things changed, after I moved to Bangalore! At my husband's house, Onam is a serious affair and the flower- arrangement- tradition reaches whole different level mind you ! A variety of flowers are bought from the whole sale market of Bangalore, pookalam is put for ten days in succession, the household is engaged/ employed/ coaxed/ blackmailed into plucking the petals of flowers, cleaning, sorting and cutting them further into smaller pieces for "finishing" and "neatness"!!! 

It is almost like the house is participating in some kind of a competition and Mahabali is personally visiting each house with a notepad and pen in hand giving points for design, neatness, execution and X factor!

These are few of the designs I managed to click (and participate in) over the last two years!