tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19562019134037864622012-02-09T06:44:42.311-08:00Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comBlogger1611100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-15761561497686967262012-02-09T06:39:00.000-08:002012-02-09T06:44:42.324-08:00<div><meta charset="utf-8">Got a brilliant sneak peak into Raunak's brain to understand how he perceives his mom and dad. No surprises there but what I did not expect is that he would use that as a mnemonic to remember his Computer Science lessons.</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OBQHwQsXUt0/TzPbjefSXZI/AAAAAAAAF-4/M7QSN2hSO3E/s1600/Mnemonics%2B.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OBQHwQsXUt0/TzPbjefSXZI/AAAAAAAAF-4/M7QSN2hSO3E/s400/Mnemonics%2B.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5707146555334745490" /></a><br /><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; "><div><span class="Apple-style-span">The inspiration for making these cartoons are real life instances in my son's life. We don't communicate in 4 boxes with the 4th one exactly ending in being 'stumped' but it is more or less an accurate representation of an anecdote that happened at home. This is my way of capturing little magical moments and developmental milestones as Raunak grows.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">The rest of my cartoons are under the label <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 20px; "><a href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); text-decoration: none; font-weight: bold; ">'Cartoons I Draw'</a>.</span></span></span></div></span><div><br /></div><div><div> </div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-1576156149768696726?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-91391243993167168572011-12-01T20:10:00.001-08:002011-12-01T20:18:59.201-08:00<div><meta charset="utf-8"><div>A new milestone reached? This sentence gave me a glimpse into how Raunak's brain is trying to decipher the real world. Still surprised why and how he picked this particular topic for his exercise.</div></div><div><br /></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S_JYQsdrGkc/TthRn3cnUnI/AAAAAAAAF-I/nyIzoTSH5DY/s1600/Middle%2BClass.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S_JYQsdrGkc/TthRn3cnUnI/AAAAAAAAF-I/nyIzoTSH5DY/s400/Middle%2BClass.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681380675268596338" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9Dy3NsgpAtc/TthQDat75dI/AAAAAAAAF98/awPobpB-gKM/s1600/Middle%2BClass.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><br /></a></div><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; "><div><span class="Apple-style-span">The inspiration for making these cartoons are real life instances in my son's life. We don't communicate in 4 boxes with the 4th one exactly ending in being 'stumped' but it is more or less an accurate representation of an anecdote that happened at home. This is my way of capturing little magical moments and developmental milestones as Raunak grows.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">The rest of my cartoons are under the label <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 20px; "><a href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); text-decoration: none; font-weight: bold; ">'Cartoons I Draw'</a>.</span></span></span></div></span><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-9139124399316716857?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-55752172373791380902011-11-27T08:11:00.001-08:002011-11-27T08:15:18.822-08:00I am getting too predictable for Raunak. I need a new game plan. And Soon.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zJJL8Kl3ga8/TtJh3llsP-I/AAAAAAAAF9w/gQA7UwarlMI/s1600/Hindi%2BTeacher.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zJJL8Kl3ga8/TtJh3llsP-I/AAAAAAAAF9w/gQA7UwarlMI/s400/Hindi%2BTeacher.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679709687678517218" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span">The inspiration for making these cartoons are real life instances in my son's life. We don't communicate in 4 boxes with the 4th one exactly ending in being 'stumped' but it is more or less an accurate representation of an anecdote that happened at home. This is my way of capturing little magical moments and developmental milestones as Raunak grows.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">The rest of my cartoons are under the label <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 20px; "><a href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); text-decoration: none; font-weight: bold; ">'Cartoons I Draw'</a>.</span></span></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-5575217237379138090?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-58989248175284266322011-11-19T22:04:00.000-08:002011-11-19T22:10:04.638-08:00Our perspectives seem to be slightly different here. I never doubt Raunak's ability to stump me!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-loqOvhqWIEA/TsiY8EBN2ZI/AAAAAAAAF9c/6wyq-O4fY4U/s1600/Carol%2BSinging.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-loqOvhqWIEA/TsiY8EBN2ZI/AAAAAAAAF9c/6wyq-O4fY4U/s400/Carol%2BSinging.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676955487938926994" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span">The inspiration for making these cartoons are real life instances in my son's life. We don't communicate in 4 boxes with the 4th one exactly ending in being 'stumped' but it is more or less an accurate representation of an anecdote that happened at home. This is my way of capturing little magical moments and developmental milestones as Raunak grows.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">The rest of my cartoons are under the label <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 20px; "><a href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); text-decoration: none; font-weight: bold; ">'Cartoons I Draw'</a>.</span></span></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-5898924817528426632?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-46140834342944018582011-10-23T08:54:00.002-07:002011-10-23T09:51:03.253-07:00<div><meta charset="utf-8">Raunak is still in that phase where he just says what is on his mind. Such brutal honesty completely throws me off track but am not complaining. They make great stumped moments :)</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hUhS7Za9Qh0/TqRFTtxjnnI/AAAAAAAAF88/2jz6FT5fZ9M/s1600/Pizza%2BOld.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hUhS7Za9Qh0/TqRFTtxjnnI/AAAAAAAAF88/2jz6FT5fZ9M/s400/Pizza%2BOld.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666730436146208370" /></a><br /><div><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; "><div><span class="Apple-style-span">The inspiration for making these cartoons are real life instances in my son's life. We don't communicate in 4 boxes with the 4th one exactly ending in being 'stumped' but it is more or less an accurate representation of an anecdote that happened at home. This is my way of capturing little magical moments and developmental milestones as Raunak grows.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">The rest of my cartoons are under the label <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 20px; "><a href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); text-decoration: none; font-weight: bold; ">'Cartoons I Draw'</a>.</span><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-c5EfgjgVIfU/TksgQg-UfSI/AAAAAAAAF70/AwvCBoxMxY0/s1600/Talking%2Bto%2Bherself.jpg" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); text-decoration: none; font-weight: bold; "> </a></span></span></div></span></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-4614083434294401858?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-64022057658110508992011-08-23T07:44:00.000-07:002011-08-23T07:55:45.360-07:00<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8">The letter is for some uncle, the message is clearly not for him!<div> <br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ze1h-KjT8o0/TlO_Vxsm9xI/AAAAAAAAF8k/ej5VTZqKxFk/s1600/Thank%2Byou%2Buncle.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ze1h-KjT8o0/TlO_Vxsm9xI/AAAAAAAAF8k/ej5VTZqKxFk/s400/Thank%2Byou%2Buncle.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644065138863961874" /></a><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><u> <br /></u></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span">The inspiration for making these cartoons are real life instances in my son's life. We don't communicate in 4 boxes with the 4th one exactly ending in being 'stumped' but it is more or less an accurate representation of an anecdote that happened at home. This is my way of capturing little magical moments and developmental milestones as Raunak grows.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"> <br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">The rest of my cartoons are under the label <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 20px; "><a href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); text-decoration: none; font-weight: bold; ">'Cartoons I Draw'</a>.</span><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-c5EfgjgVIfU/TksgQg-UfSI/AAAAAAAAF70/AwvCBoxMxY0/s1600/Talking%2Bto%2Bherself.jpg" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); text-decoration: none; font-weight: bold; "> </a></span></span> <br /> <br /><div><div> </div></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-6402205765811050899?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-15571304584537543032011-08-16T18:54:00.000-07:002011-08-16T19:01:18.727-07:00<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8">Traditional ways of delivering constructive criticism don't work with this little boy of mine.<div> <br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DPiGKWRSeAM/TksgpaMkSlI/AAAAAAAAF78/z7eSPTWAdHA/s1600/Talking%2Bto%2Bherself.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DPiGKWRSeAM/TksgpaMkSlI/AAAAAAAAF78/z7eSPTWAdHA/s400/Talking%2Bto%2Bherself.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641638853990435410" /></a> <br /><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; ">These cartoons are real instances in the life of my son. I draw them so I can capture his a) in</span>nocence and b) his developmental milestones as he is growing up. I have learnt by experience that a and b are inversely proportional to each other and these cartoons prove it. The rest of these are under the label, <a href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); text-decoration: none; font-weight: bold; ">'Cartoons I Draw'</a>.</span><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-c5EfgjgVIfU/TksgQg-UfSI/AAAAAAAAF70/AwvCBoxMxY0/s1600/Talking%2Bto%2Bherself.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"> <br /></a> <br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-1557130458453754303?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-46998758937375865352011-08-06T23:49:00.000-07:002011-08-07T00:03:37.424-07:00<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8">I make omelettes, bacon, potato cutlets, toast and fresh orange juice for breakfast...and my son says this! Maggi instant noodles every Sunday now for the little fellow!<div> <br /></div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V9twgdMAC1s/Tj42nZ-DWRI/AAAAAAAAF7s/xNIOTQG5WIg/s1600/Breakfast.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V9twgdMAC1s/Tj42nZ-DWRI/AAAAAAAAF7s/xNIOTQG5WIg/s400/Breakfast.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638003834128390418" /></a><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; ">These cartoons are real instances in the life of my son. I draw them so I can capture his a) in</span>nocence and b) his developmental milestones as he is growing up. I have learnt by experience that a and b are inversely proportional to each other and these cartoons prove it. The rest of these are under the label, <a href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); text-decoration: none; font-weight: bold; ">'Cartoons I Draw'</a>.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; "> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"> <br /></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-4699875893737586535?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-83857542449072989592011-07-11T07:03:00.000-07:002011-07-11T07:05:50.006-07:00<div><meta charset="utf-8">Punishment for slacking during the weekend and not cooking a good lunch. Sigh!</div><div> <br /></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-neivfkuTqTs/ThsC49npthI/AAAAAAAAF7c/8E4cnwD6CG8/s1600/cooker.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-neivfkuTqTs/ThsC49npthI/AAAAAAAAF7c/8E4cnwD6CG8/s400/cooker.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628095336966370834" /></a> <br /><div> <br /></div><div><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; ">These cartoons are real instances in the life of my son. I draw them so I can capture his a) in</span>nocence and b) his developmental milestones as he is growing up. I have learnt by experience that a and b are inversely proportional to each other and these cartoons prove it. The rest of these are under the label, <a href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); text-decoration: none; font-weight: bold; ">'Cartoons I Draw'</a>. </span> <br /> <br /></div><div>.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-8385754244907298959?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-25977281620676846622011-07-03T20:12:00.000-07:002011-07-03T20:46:25.324-07:00<div> <br /></div>Raunak doesn't need my help to do his homework anymore.<div> <br /></div><div> <br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--2QuA6Cbg6c/ThEwRocgCOI/AAAAAAAAF7I/5As_ALTRDvw/s1600/Family%2BTree.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--2QuA6Cbg6c/ThEwRocgCOI/AAAAAAAAF7I/5As_ALTRDvw/s400/Family%2BTree.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625330489035327714" /></a><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; ">These cartoons are real instances in the life of my son. I draw them so I can capture his a) in</span>nocence and b) his developmental milestones as he is growing up. I have learnt by experience that a and b are inversely proportional to each other and these cartoons prove it. The rest of these are under the label, <a href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); text-decoration: none; font-weight: bold; ">'Cartoons I Draw'</a>. <br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; "> <br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">.</span></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-2597728162067684662?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-36735503534316622942011-06-17T08:15:00.001-07:002011-06-17T08:23:50.097-07:00<meta charset="utf-8">Ohkay! I accept defeat gracefully. I can't cope with my little boy.<div> <br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zW0Me6DtI28/TftxO0Mp7YI/AAAAAAAAF58/M03c4p4411o/s1600/talk.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zW0Me6DtI28/TftxO0Mp7YI/AAAAAAAAF58/M03c4p4411o/s400/talk.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5619209459418656130" /></a><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; "> <br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; ">These cartoons are real instances in the life of my son. I draw them so I can capture his a) in</span>nocence and b) his developmental milestones as he is growing up. I have learnt by experience that a and b are inversely proportional to each other and these cartoons prove it. The rest of these are under the label, <a href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); text-decoration: none; font-weight: bold; ">'Cartoons I Draw'</a>. <br /> <br />.</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-3673550353431662294?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-28422127186687155572011-06-07T06:36:00.001-07:002011-06-07T08:30:12.281-07:00This stumped moment is more a flag for me that I should slow down on introducing Raunak to everything in the world. He can technically use online chat well but I keep forgetting that he is still a baby and is still learning English. (I am making this cartoon very quickly and so skipped adding characters to this episode)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c-fQYLzQdWw/Te4p409_kXI/AAAAAAAAF5s/_P_og-GyhFc/s1600/Chat.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c-fQYLzQdWw/Te4p409_kXI/AAAAAAAAF5s/_P_og-GyhFc/s400/Chat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615471841645662578" border="0" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;font-family:arial;font-size:13px;" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;font-family:arial;font-size:13px;" >These cartoons are real instances in the life of my son. I draw them so I can capture his a) in</span>nocence and b) his developmental milestones as he is growing up. I have learnt by experience that a and b are inversely proportional to each other and these cartoons prove it. The rest of these are under the label, <a href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); text-decoration: none; font-weight: bold;">'Cartoons I Draw'</a>.<br /><br />.<br /></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-2842212718668715557?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-74141763449488367172011-05-28T23:48:00.001-07:002011-05-29T02:33:32.716-07:00<meta charset="utf-8">I am already losing arguments with my 7 year old son. The 'kiddie techniques' don't work anymore :( A little more context: I am a new Formula1 fan.<div> <br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rd7j5MQYhIY/TeHtCUbJW8I/AAAAAAAAF5g/Gh-7I8uDKxc/s1600/F1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rd7j5MQYhIY/TeHtCUbJW8I/AAAAAAAAF5g/Gh-7I8uDKxc/s400/F1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612027234778438594" /></a> <br /><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">These cartoons are real instances in the life of my son. I draw them so I can capture his a) in</span>nocence and b) his developmental milestones as he is growing up. I have learnt by experience that a and b are inversely proportional to each other and these cartoons prove it. The rest of these are under the label, <a href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); text-decoration: none; font-weight: bold; ">'Cartoons I Draw'</a>.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"> <br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">.</span></span> <br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-7414176344948836717?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-13085242749068576762011-05-19T10:29:00.001-07:002011-05-19T10:41:55.273-07:00My son knows me too well! Aaargh!<div> <br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DN1iwi9ETTY/TdVV9xbBFYI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/BJ_jyWMJKOQ/s1600/Birthday.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DN1iwi9ETTY/TdVV9xbBFYI/AAAAAAAAF5Q/BJ_jyWMJKOQ/s400/Birthday.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608483430686856578" /></a><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; "><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; "> <br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">These cartoons are real instances in the life of my son. I draw them so I can capture his a) in</span>nocence and b) his developmental milestones as he is growing up. I have learnt by experience that a and b are inversely proportional to each other and these cartoons prove it. The rest of these are under the label, <a href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); text-decoration: none; font-weight: bold; ">'Cartoons I Draw'</a>.</div></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-1308524274906857676?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-54263657135517940222011-05-16T07:44:00.001-07:002011-05-16T07:58:20.850-07:00A conversation with a group of friends on Facebook yesterday reminded me of a little stumped moment that happened a few years ago when we bought a new TV. Raunak must have been some 2 or 3 years old back then. Ah the innocence.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zrjXt4iJUCw/TdE5Wc_W-3I/AAAAAAAAF44/kDb9zg2etnw/s1600/Punjabi%2BTV.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zrjXt4iJUCw/TdE5Wc_W-3I/AAAAAAAAF44/kDb9zg2etnw/s400/Punjabi%2BTV.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607326068954823538" border="0" /></a>These cartoons are real instances in the life of my son. I draw them so I can capture his a) innocence and b) his developmental milestones as he is growing up. I have learnt by experience that a and b are inversely proportional to each other and these cartoons prove it. The rest of these are under the label, <a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw">'Cartoons I Draw'</a>.<br /><br />.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-5426365713551794022?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-47622002458664114902011-05-07T22:06:00.001-07:002011-05-08T01:43:25.336-07:00Today is mother's day in India and TV is playing its part well with many brands trying to influence kids to 'make the day special' for their mom. My son seems to be above all this. Here is the cartoon I drew of his reaction today morning to an ad he saw on tele (but knowing him, this may be a ploy to downplay what he is really planning)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-o5NTFe0S8iQ/TcYmVoXI4MI/AAAAAAAAF4Y/gEonU4eWjQw/s1600/Mother%2527s%2Bday.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-o5NTFe0S8iQ/TcYmVoXI4MI/AAAAAAAAF4Y/gEonU4eWjQw/s400/Mother%2527s%2Bday.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604208939362738370" border="0" /></a><br />What am I capturing here?: 1) Raunak's innocence of taking things literally or 2) His learning to possibly hold suspense and mislead.<br /><br />These cartoons are real instances in the life of my son. I draw them so I can capture his a) innocence and b) his developmental milestones as he is growing up. I have learnt by experience that a and b are inversely proportional to each other and these cartoons prove it. The rest of these are under the label, <a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw">'Cartoons I Draw'</a>.<br /><br />.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-4762200245866411490?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-13898466544237396712011-04-22T07:07:00.000-07:002011-04-22T07:19:41.266-07:00The lil' one and I went to the Buddha Statue on a ferry with some friends today and I remembered the last time I was there with him a few years ago (he must've been 4 or 5 back then). He spotted the obvious that I missed! I always wanted to make this cartoon but I could not draw the Buddha. I clicked a picture today for this to use in the strip. Here is the looong overdue stumped moment.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nB9gxfWrZms/TbGM-LpmIAI/AAAAAAAAF4E/XZqrFoVnHkE/s1600/Hi%2Bfive.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nB9gxfWrZms/TbGM-LpmIAI/AAAAAAAAF4E/XZqrFoVnHkE/s400/Hi%2Bfive.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598410811705270274" border="0" /></a><br />The rest of my cartoons are under the label, <a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw">'Cartoons I Draw'</a><br /><br />.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-1389846654423739671?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-49653110903601895662011-04-14T07:27:00.000-07:002011-04-14T08:13:59.282-07:00Raunak is slowly learning the ways of the world and I have a feeling that my cartoons are moving into a new phase. This was one of the first pearls of wisdom I have heard him utter. Something tells me there will be more.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zJ4_cFkn88Q/TacE6NGpTPI/AAAAAAAAF3s/tKQPQ3hK47Y/s1600/First%2BDay%2BClass%2B3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zJ4_cFkn88Q/TacE6NGpTPI/AAAAAAAAF3s/tKQPQ3hK47Y/s400/First%2BDay%2BClass%2B3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595446460027587826" border="0" /></a>The rest of my cartoons are under the label, <a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw">'Cartoons I Draw'</a><br /><br />.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-4965311090360189566?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-42881035031154466042011-03-08T08:52:00.000-08:002011-03-08T09:06:20.607-08:00Thought I'd end a long day with a game of Snakes and Ladders with sonny boy. I won the game and a stumped moment. Raunak is getting competitive.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fNuxKd3pfyk/TXZfe7mH0KI/AAAAAAAAF2c/WECG4RlsqAE/s1600/Snakes%2Band%2Bladders.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fNuxKd3pfyk/TXZfe7mH0KI/AAAAAAAAF2c/WECG4RlsqAE/s400/Snakes%2Band%2Bladders.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581753773170610338" border="0" /></a>Rest of my cartoons are under the label '<a href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw">Cartoons I Draw</a>'<br /><br />.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-4288103503115446604?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-85781874671911898582011-02-19T03:54:00.000-08:002011-03-08T09:02:07.017-08:00Raunak's exams are starting on Monday and both of us are going through a tough learning phase of finding out how much stress is healthy stress. Sometimes the stress busters are silly stumped moments.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ATLtBqwACEg/TXZg5MNadgI/AAAAAAAAF2k/o72garuxeX0/s1600/water%2Bcycle.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ATLtBqwACEg/TXZg5MNadgI/AAAAAAAAF2k/o72garuxeX0/s400/water%2Bcycle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581755323818604034" border="0" /></a><br />.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-8578187467191189858?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-74340114825654951982011-02-15T05:35:00.000-08:002011-02-15T06:10:52.337-08:00I can't do Math in my head and I have always attributed it to the lack of practice as I was growing up. To save Raunak from this, I try and give him opportunities to calculate mentally and he usually enjoys it. Sometimes it backfires like it did just now. I *had* to make this cartoon. A true stumped moment.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x2vXt2fsWiw/TVqB0cJbsYI/AAAAAAAAFic/DzZLLHWw2jE/s1600/Mental%2BMath.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x2vXt2fsWiw/TVqB0cJbsYI/AAAAAAAAFic/DzZLLHWw2jE/s400/Mental%2BMath.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573910226733347202" border="0" /></a>Rest of the 'Stumped!' cartoons are under the label <a style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);" href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw">Cartoons I Draw</a><br /><br />.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-7434011482565495198?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-22036379297725040232011-02-13T08:01:00.000-08:002011-02-13T10:54:58.415-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j8Z5SmmNgQs/TVgGsSC7TRI/AAAAAAAAFiU/Bx2yJrXkKWU/s1600/12th%2Bclass.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j8Z5SmmNgQs/TVgGsSC7TRI/AAAAAAAAFiU/Bx2yJrXkKWU/s200/12th%2Bclass.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573211896699112722" border="0" /></a>(Picture: Taken in the college during my 12th class by my best friend during those days, Vidya Nikhil. Looks incredibly silly now but the fact that this was taken exactly around the time the incident I am about to narrate happened made me want to put this up)<br /><br />I went to Salar Jung Museum with the lil one the other day and as I passed the conference hall, I remembered an incident that happened when I was at that place the last time, 14 years ago in my 12th class. The last time I visited the museum was to participate in an elocution competition in the same conference hall. Don't remember the topic anymore but I remember meeting a guy who won the first prize (I won a 'consolation' prize. Gosh how I hate that word!). I also remember the opening sentence of my speech "Young minds are like photon particles..."<br /><br />After everyone spoke, this guy (I still clearly remember his face but can't remember what his name was no matter how hard I try to think) came up to me and mentioned he really liked my intro to the speech. No wonder I remember it so clearly till today. After the results were announced, and when everyone was heading back, he offered to walk me back to the bus stop. The stop was about 5 mins away and we started talking. We chatted about our interests, songs we listen to, books we read and our love for travel...skipped two stops and walked a good 3 kms before we realized it. When it was time for me to go, he asked if I wanted to meet him again. I understood it as "if ever we happen to meet at some venue for some competition, will you chat with me" and I cheerfully said "sure!". "Great! It's a date then! Saturday, at 4? Near your college?" he said and I was zapped. Did not realize until then that he was actually asking me out on a date.<br /><br />At that time, Ranjit and I had a fight and we broke up a year ago. I got busy with my studies and he moved to a different city to take up his first job. There were no cell phones and emails back then so we were not in touch and in fact we kind of moved on. This guy I just met suddenly made me a little uneasy. True I broke up with Ranjit, but I never thought of dating another guy. I thought to myself, "Well he seems to be a nice guy and its just a conversation. Whats the difference between him and many interesting people we keep meeting in our lives now and then? Nothing. So it's fine. I can meet him again".<br /><br />We met at a bakery near my college and I remember having another awesome conversation. This time it was more serious. We spoke about photons and other sub-automic particles. Physics has always been one of my favorite subjects and I had a particular interest in Atomic Theory. When it was time for me to go, he paid the bill, walked me to the bus stop and never contacted me again after that.<br /><br />Ranjit and I got back together when he returned a few months later and I told him about meeting this guy. However, I had learnt my lesson well and never spoke to Ranjit about sub-automic particles. He, till date, does not know that I know a thing or two about them ;)<br /><br />Other related anecdotes are under the label <span style="text-decoration: underline; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">My Love Story</span><br /><br />-----<br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">The inspiration for this post is the conversation I had today with my online football friends <a style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);" href="http://twitter.com/#%21/iPunjit">Punjit Sharma</a> and <a style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);" href="http://twitter.com/#%21/leostatic">Leostatic</a> about their Valentine's day plans :) Have fun guys! </span><br /><br />.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-2203637929772504023?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-81524357892013725042011-02-05T08:32:00.000-08:002011-02-07T00:43:24.206-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TU2PPBx4i7I/AAAAAAAAFiA/L02REztjwi0/s1600/DSC02025.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 234px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TU2PPBx4i7I/AAAAAAAAFiA/L02REztjwi0/s320/DSC02025.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570265802465643442" border="0" /></a>(Picture: Ireland, during one of the treks)<br /><br />Before I proceed any further let me first clarify that I am not suicidal. I am fully prepared and am determined to lead a long and happy life. I love my family and this is not a dark post. Everyone thinks about death at some point or the other and I do too. A conversation with a friend made me convert the thoughts into a post. Nothing more to this than that. Now that I have made that clear, on to my thoughts.<br /><br />I don't believe in re-incarnation, I don't believe in heaven and hell. Having said that, I also accept that all of this belongs to the unknown, so statements like these may be silly. Assuming there is re-incarnation, I would like to experience something new -- things I have not experienced in this lifetime. May be be born as a tribal in Africa or an Eskimo in Alaska. Assuming there is heaven and hell, I don't have a preference of where I want to go. Irrespective of where I land, it will be interesting to see a different world. Assuming there is nothing, like I think there isn't, I want to cease to exist in any shape or form when my time ends.<br /><br />I want my family and friends to forget me the moment I am dead. Simply erase all memories of me from their brain and move on to adapting their lives to the new situation. I don't subscribe to the thought of 'celebrate my life, don't grieve my death'. I have lost my grand parents and my father-in-law and have realized that human body grieves for ever. There is nothing called remembering the happy moments. Memories of loved ones who have passed away have a permanent tag of pain attached to them irrespective of which shade they come in. Giving pain to my family is the last thing I would want. Like I mentioned in my <a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://www.justkalpana.com/2010/09/7-years-old.html">post to my son on his birthday</a>, there are no good situations and bad situations. There are just situations and there is no escape from learning to deal with them. I would like my family to quickly pass this phase of re-orienting themselves in whichever way works well when I am not with them anymore.<br /><br />With two religions playing a big role in my life, there is bound to be a debate on whether to burn my body or bury it. I would like my family to understood that (at this current moment) I believe in neither and I would not want my remains to be wasted. Reuse whatever organs can be reused and put whatever remains on an operation table for future surgeons to practice their lessons. Having said this, I don't want to be responsible for people not earning their daily wage because of me. Pay the guys who prepare for the burial though there is no burial and pay a poor brahmin who would have conducted the cremation though there would be none. Give away all my belongings, clean the cupboards and enjoy the extra space that it would create.<br /><br />I want all of this to happen very swiftly with a turn around time of not more than 12 hours. After that I want Will Smith to visit with his memory erasing device, wear his dark glasses and press the button. The end.<br /><br />.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-8152435789201372504?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-36198094237622408432011-01-26T18:24:00.000-08:002011-01-26T19:30:46.891-08:00My new found love for football seemed to have rubbed off on Raunak. Caught him discussing Manchester United with his grandma and I *had* to draw a cartoon of it. These grandson grandma conversations are priceless.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TUDXitovVxI/AAAAAAAAFhA/icQThqHWQWA/s1600/ManUtd"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TUDXitovVxI/AAAAAAAAFhA/icQThqHWQWA/s400/ManUtd" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566686130795927314" border="0" /></a>The rest of the 'Stumped!' cartoons are <a style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);" href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw">here</a>.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-3619809423762240843?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-76687306681336722882010-12-25T23:27:00.000-08:002010-12-25T23:50:07.493-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TRbvshNMteI/AAAAAAAAFec/069iX-neZ04/s1600/sunday%2Blunch.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TRbvshNMteI/AAAAAAAAFec/069iX-neZ04/s200/sunday%2Blunch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554890738515097058" border="0" /></a>(Clockwise: Stuffed brinjal/eggplant with onions, carrot and coconut, sambar with potato, yogurt with tomato seasoning)<br /><br />I saw this tweet by <a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://rosemilkinabottle.wordpress.com/">Gayatri</a>, a friend of mine in Mumbai a few hours ago <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">"</span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Its time to start cooking. Paati coming home in a bit. Menu: potato sambhar, tomato rasam, carrot curry, brinjal curry &amp; carrot kheer"</span> and immediately replied <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">"@jestme You know what! I am going to copy your menu and cook exactly the same! :) Will save me time to think what to make today :D"</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">. </span>We decided to share the pictures of what we made. Here is what I ended up making. The family will eat regular Sunday mutton curry and my mother-in-law is making that. All of this is <span style="font-style: italic;">just for me</span>! Excuse my presentation and food photography skills. Not good at all that.<br /><br />What is missing in the picture is my mother-in-law's amused laugh. She finally believes the excess time I spend online is being a good influence on me :D<br /><br />Though this is not really an adventure, this sure falls under the 'impulsive' category so tagged it under my '<a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Impulsive%20Adventures">Impulsive Adventures</a>' label.<br />.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-7668730668133672288?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-43657685594977020412010-12-14T18:21:00.000-08:002010-12-15T00:54:11.777-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TQhLha0kjLI/AAAAAAAAFeQ/JuEFb3yT0Dw/s1600/28160_103595733018583_100001044695357_29354_6955566_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 155px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TQhLha0kjLI/AAAAAAAAFeQ/JuEFb3yT0Dw/s200/28160_103595733018583_100001044695357_29354_6955566_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550769578241723570" border="0" /></a><br />"My world is mute without you" These were the words that got me curious to meet the guy who wrote this. Like all girls in their early teens, I was used to reading flowery worded letters and throwing many away in the bin without even opening the envelope. This letter was somehow different. When I ended up meeting him, I realized I really liked him. His honesty, simplicity and confidence led me to trust him like I never trusted anyone. 6 years later, I got married to this guy and what a great ride it has been since then! I complete 10 years of being married today and I wanted to count my blessings and say a few things I have never said before.<br /><br />A few weeks before I was to get married, I was getting sick with the stress of not having anyone to confide in and talk my fears out. That is when Karthik and Kaushik, twins and my best friends, stepped in to support me. They were as young, naive and inexperienced as I was but showed immense maturity by not just being by me but helping me take the support of their mom and dad. Aunty and uncle offered to talk to my parents to get their consent and were willing to face their wrath if need be but I vehemently refused to let them do that. During the entire phase, they became the people I completely depended on emotionally. If not for them, I would have ended up being a nervous wreck.<br /><br />The wedding itself was scary. Close to a 100 boys from Ranjit's friend's circle who came to 'support' us and I was the only girl and my only guest, Karthik. I told Kaushik the day and time of the wedding but forgot to tell him where the venue was. Those were not the days of mobile phones and he was left worried about how I was and if everything was going fine. The biggest test was to go to my parents place and break the news that I was married. Karthik refused to let me do that alone and stubbornly stood by me when I had the most difficult conversation of my life. I could reunite with my parents later only because the entire load of bitterness about the whole thing was thrown squarely on him . My parents blamed him and I was easily forgiven (and I think the reason why I was forgiven was because they could blame him).<br /><br />The guilt of putting my parents through the biggest humiliation of their life has never left me. Every single year, on this day, I struggle not knowing how to remove the dark pain I feel in my heart for leaving my mom and dad open to insults from neighbors, friends and family that their daughter eloped. The pain they went through that I left them and moved so quickly, literally overnight, will keep nagging me like it has over the years. My ego never let me apologize to them and and tell them that I took the right decision in life but I wish my journey started differently.<br /><br />The first morning after my wedding, as a new bride, I went to Ranjit's place and was introduced to his parents as their daughter-in-law. I braced myself to be slapped or to hear words so sharp that they would hurt more than physical pain. I went pale with fear, but after the initial 3 second hesitation, my mother-in-law gave me a hug and welcomed me into the family. From that moment onwards, she became the most important person in my life -- watching over me, taking care of me and praying for my well being and happiness constantly. I faced every important moment in my life with utmost confidence because I knew she would coordinate the time and go on her knees praying knowing the moment is important to me. With someone like that in my life, I don't have to think of logic and if prayers work or if the God that she worships exists. It really doesn't matter at all.<br /><br />Other anecdotes about my love story are under the label <a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/My%20Love%20Story">'My Love Story'</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-4365768559497702041?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-58701883016784588952010-10-09T00:24:00.000-07:002010-10-09T00:33:19.419-07:00I was at home on Wednesday and Thursday last week and went to Raunak's school to pick him up one of the days. Just when we were about to leave his school, he threw a stumped moment at me. This one is more than a stumped moment actually. I had to tell myself "Breathe Kalpana, breathe. It's alright. Blame it on TV". This boy is going to give me a tough time as he grows up.<br /><br />The rest of my Stumped!! cartoons are under the label '<a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw">Cartoons I Draw</a>'.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TLAZvHVhNuI/AAAAAAAAFZ8/4P2HmxU0Jgw/s1600/bye.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TLAZvHVhNuI/AAAAAAAAFZ8/4P2HmxU0Jgw/s400/bye.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525945039997449954" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-5870188301678458895?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-89359775621363719772010-09-30T06:26:00.000-07:002011-02-05T10:07:41.786-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TKTPFJ0vdWI/AAAAAAAAFZk/HWKAFkz-dQM/s1600/raunak"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 234px; height: 175px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TKTPFJ0vdWI/AAAAAAAAFZk/HWKAFkz-dQM/s400/raunak" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522766730506499426" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">(Pic: Raunak when he was 3 or 4 yrs old)</span><br /><br />Dear Raunak,<br /><br />7 more years and you will be 14!! Going by how quickly the last 7 years went by, you will be a teenager before I know it.<br /><br />I thought hard about what I want to write to you this year. After a little debate with myself in my head, I decided to give you a lecture about my philosophy behind how I am bringing you up. Papa and I are slightly different in how we approach raising you. I am an idealist and adventurous, papa is practical and ambitious. Its a good combination together. Unfortunately, he is not a blogger, and unlike me, does not think of the entire world as his family he can share his thoughts with, so you will have to sit him down and make him talk about this later.<br /><br />There are no good or bad decisions in life. There are decisions and there are consequences. Be confident about your decisions and courageous about the consequences. Papa and I try to let you make your choices at every available opportunity and you are doing brilliantly well.<br /><br />Learn to use the knife, learn to use the fire. I was not afraid to give you a knife and teach you how to use it the right way. You cut vegetables for your salad and you make your own omlette. Not all episodes were nice and cute, there were cuts and burns but soon you learnt how to be careful with them. Life is the same. If you are scared of scary things, you'll miss out on living a part of your life.<br /><br />Learn to be tolerant. You believe in Christ, I believe in Science. I am a vegetarian, you are not. Telugu has been my primary language all my life, you have been multi-lingual since you spoke your first word. If there are so many difference just between 2 people, imagine how different all the people in the world are from each other. There is no need to judge everyone and everything all the time. There are lot more important things to do in life. Focus on them.<br /><br />Life is full of hurdles but it is also full of workarounds. Be creative and find your way out. Learn never to use the hurdles as excuses. They are great opportunities to hone new skills and to become self-aware.<br /><br />As you grow up, you will develop your own set of values and principles. You will build your own moral code, and your philosophy of life may end up being very different from mine. When you are old enough, you may read all this and completely disagree with me. If that ever happens, I promise to be tolerant. Happy birthday, Raunak!<br /><br />-Mummy<br /><br />Other birthday posts are <a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/SonnyBoy%27s%20Bday%20Posts">here</a>.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-8935977562136371977?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-40926842638284619742010-09-22T09:43:00.000-07:002010-09-22T09:47:38.430-07:00I made this cartoon based on the anecdote narrated by my mother-in-law. This happened when Raunak and she were watching TV a few weeks ago.<br /><br />The rest of my Stumped!! cartoons are under the label '<a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw">Cartoons I Draw</a>'.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TJoySG3j1BI/AAAAAAAAFYQ/SZDVDU7nf-k/s1600/Lion+and+Tiger.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TJoySG3j1BI/AAAAAAAAFYQ/SZDVDU7nf-k/s400/Lion+and+Tiger.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519779579958645778" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-4092684263828461974?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-46343300326943670712010-09-15T20:42:00.000-07:002011-01-02T09:32:29.482-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TJGf-Om4x0I/AAAAAAAAFX4/F5CWrHT_Q8k/s1600/site.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TJGf-Om4x0I/AAAAAAAAFX4/F5CWrHT_Q8k/s200/site.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517366909927475010" border="0" /></a> <!--[endif]--> <!--StartFragment-->Bringing up my 6 year old son makes me to frequently go back to the childhood battles I fought and I can’t help look at him and his future through those lenses. <p class="MsoNormal">I struggled with unnecessary phobia of facing the Math and language exams when I was in high school. Once I reached college, I decided to kick my mental block and did something very adventurous…insane is probably the right word to use here. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">While choosing subjects for my 2 year pre-university course, I decided I would take up the subjects I most struggled with. I picked Mathematics, Physics and Chemistry as my main subjects and Sanskrit as my language choice. My dad wanted me to become an engineer so I was attending the engineering entrance prep classes from 4-8AM every day for the entire 2 year period. That gave me enough opportunity to improve my Math ability. While I had to work hard for Math, I completely enjoyed Physics and Chemistry. I still do to this day. With Math covered, to make up for my shortcoming of not excelling in languages in school, I enrolled for a 1 yr conversational Sanskrit course where we had to do crazy stuff like between 5 and 6 in the evening, no matter who we were talking to, we would only speak in Sanskrit.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">For my 3 year graduation course, I took up Mathematics and Statistics to continue the metal-block kicking and Computer Science because I was drawn to it. Without stopping there, I decided to do a parallel 3 year graduation course in Hindi to cover the language part. I also convinced my dad to fund a yet another parallel course -- 3 year advanced diploma in Computer Science from NIIT. As if all of this is not enough, I threw in a 6 semester graduation program in instrumental music (I was learning to play Veena back then). Over and above all of this, I was dating Ranjit during that time.<span style=""> </span>Finding time to meet him was as challenging as hiding our relationship from my parents.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I learnt a lot during this phase, the most important lesson being I am not a super woman and that realization was hard to handle. My day started at 4AM every morning and ended at 11PM. I tasted failing in a subject for the first time when I fell short of the required 35% marks in Statistics practicals and had to re-take the exam. No one fails in this particular exam. No one! <span style=""> </span>I held the record for quite sometime for this. I managed to pass the music exam but it was more because of the examiner's sympathy than my skill. Veena, just like any other string instrument demands a lot of practice for the skin on the fingers to toughen. I had no time left in my day to practice well and my fingers bled when I had to play a piece in high speed during my exam. My eyes stung with tears less because of the pain caused by the bruises and more because of humiliation and frustration that I don’t have the inborn talent for music in me. It was a skill I had to hone in my case, but I didn’t want the skill, I wanted to have the talent. The examiner took pity on me and gave me pass marks. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">My Hindi course and my Computer Science diploma went well and so did my main graduation course. But after those 3 years, I was completely exhausted.<span style=""> </span>If not for the support from my parents, Ranjit, and my friends, I would not have survived that phase. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">It feels great to see Raunak have a natural ability with numbers and languages. He already can read and write 3 languages (thanks to his school and his grandmother) and is showing a delightful inclination towards logic and Math. Nature threw in a bonus gift for me in him – he has a talent for music. He not only sings well but is technically sound and can interpret the nuances without any formal training.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">This means two things. 1) Someone up there must love me a lot for giving my child the exact same gifts that I badly wanted. 2) Raunak’s battles will be different from mine. I like the first point a lot!<br /></p> <!--EndFragment--><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-4634330032694367071?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-83835801668727897772010-07-23T05:13:00.000-07:002010-07-23T07:44:48.840-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TEmdFc0V0TI/AAAAAAAAFQM/O3rfwnwC7TA/s1600/rohit+to+raunak.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TEmdFc0V0TI/AAAAAAAAFQM/O3rfwnwC7TA/s200/rohit+to+raunak.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497097537143034162" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TEmdBrv8GgI/AAAAAAAAFQE/bzq-RV62p7Y/s1600/raunak+to+rohit.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TEmdBrv8GgI/AAAAAAAAFQE/bzq-RV62p7Y/s200/raunak+to+rohit.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497097472431626754" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TEmc9HRHiiI/AAAAAAAAFP8/-I-R6Q52IEs/s1600/DSC03574.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TEmc9HRHiiI/AAAAAAAAFP8/-I-R6Q52IEs/s200/DSC03574.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497097393919199778" /></a> <br /><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TEmp9cGxI8I/AAAAAAAAFQU/S3gHlTgsW-Y/s200/ambika.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 154px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497111693164094402" /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /><div> <br /></div><div> <br /></div><div> <br /></div><div> <br /></div><div> <br /></div><div> <br /></div><div> <br /></div><div> <br /></div><div> <br /></div><div> <br /></div><div> <br /></div><div> <br /></div><div>My brother and I grew up having pen pals. It started with a cousin of ours introducing us to the concept of writing to various embassies and getting brochures and reading material about their countries. Those were the days of no computer/Internet, no phone at home and no TV. We asked the embassy of Ethiopia and Netherlands (chosen simply based on colorful pictures on the brochures) if we can interact with anyone from their country and we had our first pen pals. My brother lost interest pretty fast but I kept in touch for a while exchanging post cards and answering questions about each other's lands. It was quite an interesting experience and I wanted to recreate it for Raunak. Especially because he has never seen a post man in flesh and I could not figure out where the post box was in our colony (I later realized that there is none!). Snail mail is dying and I wanted Raunak to have a glimpse of what it is.</div><div><div><div> <br /></div><div>So Raunak now has pen pals. Vinith and Rohit, children of a close friend of mine in Dubai and we are trying our best to teach our boys to take up a pen and write letters to each other. Of course making videos and sending emails has slowly crept in but our focus is on making the boys write. Vinith is 5, Raunak is 6 and Rohit is 7 so it is perfect! We'll see where this friendship takes these kids and if they can be friends at all just through their letters.</div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-8383580166872789777?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-53573713751808445202010-07-14T21:27:00.000-07:002010-07-15T07:59:38.325-07:00<meta charset="utf-8"><div> <br /></div>Ranjit took Raunak out for some father-son quality time together. They picked an Italian restaurant to have lunch and this is what happened.<div> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TD6O91DRRrI/AAAAAAAAFI4/uHXXhsK-zII/s1600/Italian+Restaurant.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TD6O91DRRrI/AAAAAAAAFI4/uHXXhsK-zII/s400/Italian+Restaurant.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493985788302542514" /></a></div><div>Rest of the cartoons are under the label '<a href="http://www.justkalpana.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Cartoons I Draw</span></a>'</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-5357371375180844520?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-49395463073331871762010-07-03T22:38:00.000-07:002010-07-09T07:05:31.227-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TDBScuT0U2I/AAAAAAAAFEk/3Kq_Z67yG5U/s1600/hero+puch.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 136px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TDBScuT0U2I/AAAAAAAAFEk/3Kq_Z67yG5U/s200/hero+puch.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489978599185601378" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(Picture: From <a href="http://image2.mouthshut.com/images/ImagesR/2006/8/925000068-2616345-1.jpg">here</a>)</span> <br />When I completed my school and started having conversations with my dad about getting a vehicle for myself to drive to college, I was very clear about what I wanted. I did not want the fully automatic Kinetic Honda/Scooty kind of bikes. I wanted a bike that had manual gears but one that looked feminine and delicate. I did not fancy riding a motor cycle -- not fashionable. Dad of course put budget restrictions on how far I can take my fantasy ride of owning the perfect bike. <div> <br /></div><div>After many trips to the showrooms and test drives my dad's eyes fell on Hero Puch. Petite but far from being a good looker. It was a <i>moped</i> for God's sake!! The specifications were good, had a powerful engine, 3 hand-based gears and the best part, it weighed all of 65 Kgs. I don't remember the cost anymore but dad was happy, I was not. It was not a looker!! Dad and I argued and came back home. </div><div> <br /></div><div>Everything changed overnight when my best friend and the prettiest girl of the college Vidya Deviah decided to buy one too. Suddenly, it became a must have fashion accessory and I quickly bought mine. What a great bike that turned out to be. Powerful engine and featherlight body!</div><div> <br /></div><div>That was the beginning of my infamous speeding episodes. People who know me from those days will know me as 'that girl who will kill herself or someone on the road someday because of her speed.' I would rarely drive under 75 kmph and frequently at 80 kmph which was the max the bike would go. I would break every single rule that slowed me down. The breeze on my face when I rode my bike was an intoxication I could not break away from. Every few days my dad would receive complaints from people who recognized me on the road and he would lock the bike away. I would then cry and plead and he would melt.</div><meta charset="utf-8"><div> <br /></div><div>Dad set some sort of a speed lock at one point and that is when I turned into a mechanic. I figured a lot of useful stuff about the bike like opening the speed lock whenever I wanted to which was pretty much the moment my bike was out of the gate. I was seeing Ranjit during that time and my parents were completely against it. Mom would quietly note down the meter reading in the morning to check if I deviated from my regular route of going to the college and coming back home and I promptly learnt how to remove the cable that makes the meter rotate and fix it back so the reading does not give away where I have been. </div><div> <br /></div><div>Finally, when I got married (against my parents wishes. Thats another story I will tell some other time) my dad gave me the perfect punishment -- he sold my bike away within a day. Ranjit was not too kind to me either. One of my wedding vows was that I will never drive again and he was very serious about it. I tried to reason with him that now that I had 'responsibilities' I would be careful, I would a drive a four wheeler and not a bike like my Hero Puch...nothing worked. It has been 9 years and I have not driven since then. But I have not changed either. I am still the rebel I was. Next plan, retake my vows with Ranjit someday and make him (or trick him to) revise the rules. Someday...someday I will drive again! </div><div> <br /></div><div>The rest of the anecdotes about my love story and things associated with it are labeled '<a href="http://justkalpana.blogspot.com/search/label/My%20Love%20Story"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">My Love Story</span></a>'</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-4939546307333187176?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-80628938772724742122010-06-23T09:27:00.001-07:002010-06-23T10:34:15.149-07:00<div>It's a lot of fun to watch Raunak make conversation with his friends. Their topics of discussion are so distinctly different from the adults! Overheard Raunak having this conversation with this girl next door a few weeks ago. </div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TCI3ast20jI/AAAAAAAAFDo/ijvA6dT2h70/s1600/Conv.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TCI3ast20jI/AAAAAAAAFDo/ijvA6dT2h70/s320/Conv.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486008227910308402" /></a><div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#551A8B;"></span></div></div><div>Lables: <a href="http://justkalpana.blogspot.com/search/label/All%20posts">All Posts</a>, <a href="http://justkalpana.blogspot.com/search/label/Cartoons%20I%20Draw">Cartoons I Draw</a></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-8062893877272474212?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-10526313918628753282010-06-20T00:49:00.000-07:002011-01-02T09:32:29.484-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TB5JOhj_q5I/AAAAAAAAFC4/r8seXi4tAtc/s1600/DSC03412.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TB5JOhj_q5I/AAAAAAAAFC4/r8seXi4tAtc/s320/DSC03412.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484901910060182418" /></a>(<.girly talk.><girly><girly><girly>Ah how I hate my short hair. Thank God it's growing back <./girly talk.></girly><girly>)<div><br /><div>I have been desperately trying to get into the world cup mood for the past few days and one of the reasons is my father-in-law. This is the first world cup when he is not with us. Last time around, I set alarms for him and Ranjit to watch these matches during ungodly hours, take turns with my mother-in-law to make tea for them and watch his severe mood swings depending on the result of the matches. One thing I never got to do is show some interest in the game. If I had paid some attention to the conversations between the father and the son, I would have been an expert now making intelligent predictions of what the chances of a particular country reaching the semi-finals are.</div><div><br /><div>Ranjit has taken to watching the big matches with his friends, now that his father isn't there to debate, celebrate, and share his sorrows. I did the only thing I know when I am stuck in a situation like this: 1) Read up a lot 2) Get my hands dirty. I am reading up a lot and watching the matches with my half-baked knowledge. Past experience tells me I will catch up soon and Ranjit helps by answering my questions from time to time.</div><div><br /></div><div>The biggest help however came from a very unlikely source -- my mother-in-law. Ranjit and I sit in our room and watch the matches without knowing that my mother-in-law has taken the place of my father-in-law, staying back late and watching every single game. I did not notice it until last night because she mutes the TV so we aren't disturbed (oh the Vuvuzelas). I saw the flickering lights in the drawing room last night and went to check if I left the TV on and found her glued to the Germany-Serbia match. I sat with her and asked her if she understands the game (especially because she cannot understand the commentary) and was pleasantly surprised to realize how much she knows about the game. </div><div><br /></div><div>Of course she knows the game very well! She was a <i>WAG</i>! My father-in-law was a professional football player! How could I forget? :)</div></div></div></girly></girly></girly><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-1052631391862875328?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-37160558176235235522010-06-16T20:05:00.001-07:002010-06-23T09:51:23.581-07:00<div>Raunak has always been good with nuances of making people respond positively to him. Here is evidence that he is getting better at it. Though considered as 'manipulation' in the adult world, this is a sign that my 6 year old is developing strategizing skills. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">*Didi in Hindi means sis</span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TBmREVLjqcI/AAAAAAAAFCc/xh4gqkWpV5U/s1600/mac.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 257px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TBmREVLjqcI/AAAAAAAAFCc/xh4gqkWpV5U/s320/mac.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483573524891412930" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-3716055817623523552?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-80954509961038920042010-06-06T20:52:00.000-07:002011-01-02T09:34:45.846-08:00<span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SchbFJXrzhI/AAAAAAAADJE/rUMVlJoiTm4/s1600-h/fil.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 162px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SchbFJXrzhI/AAAAAAAADJE/rUMVlJoiTm4/s200/fil.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316599504083602962" border="0" /></a><br /></span> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">2 years ago, at this time, Ranjit and I conveyed our decision of not to put my ailing father-in-law on a ventilator to the Neurologist. In the next 20 mins the doctor told us he was no more, and I realized I lost not a father-in-law, but a father who loved me unconditionally, protected me fiercely and watched over me all the time.<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">When I chose the words "Life's race well run, life's work well done, life's crown well won -- now comes rest", to be embossed on the gravestone, Ranjit broke down and cried. My mother-in-law asked me what it meant, and when I translated it for her, she smiled and said, "he will be happy to know that his children appreciate his efforts." My eyes welled at the implicit inclusion of me when she said 'his children'.<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">When I was a new bride and was struggling to adjust to completely alien customs and lifestyle, my father-in-law stood by me always telling me that I need not change my lifestyle but just understand theirs. Every time he overheard Ranjit and I having a little tiff, he would shout at Ranjit saying "she left everything and stepped into our family. Is this how you speak to her?". That would put a full stop to the tussle and leave me smiling and Ranjit fuming. I close my eyes now and his thundering voice still rings in my ears.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I repaid all the affection by being ignorant of what a brain stroke is, how to identify the signs, and what to do when we see them. I saw him struggle every single day for a month with black outs, memory loss and internal bleeding, signs that should shake anyone up irrespective of whether one knows about brain strokes or not but I was happy with his explanations of "oh the floor is slippery and I fell down, I am getting old and I can’t remember anything, I cut my tongue and its bleeding". I even associated the brief paralysis of his face to uncle missing his regular dose of his BP tablets -- a simple explanation that a neighborhood doctor gave which sounded perfectly convincing at that point in time.<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I sensed something was wrong only when Ranjit started worrying that uncle stopped eating food and was refusing to talk and looks like he did not recognize most of the people. We rushed him to the hospital but he refused to cooperate with the doctors. Doctors told us that he was losing time and if he did not agree to be treated, they won't be able to do much. That’s when we took the first tough decision, and he was tied down to the bed and shifted to ICU. Ranjit, and I went in to check on him and saw the tall, strong, athletic man reduced to a helpless heap, too weak to even open his eyes, his hands and legs tied to the bed and a dozen tubes running all over his body. We silently walked out of the ICU, took the stairs instead of the elevator, sat down on the steps and cried, incapable of consoling each other. We had to be strong for my mother-in-law and for Raunak and had no clue how.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Just a month after he passed away, a friend gave me a book about the mechanics of the brain and the narrative starts with an explanation about the signs of a stroke. My father-in-law had classic symptoms that would not have gone unnoticed only if any of us knew about it. Ignorance is not an excuse, and I can never forgive myself for being ignorant. It cost my father-in-law's life!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">I feel I led you to your death. Sorry uncle. But minutes before you left us, the last flicker of recognition I saw in your eyes, the message you tried to convey to me through them with tears streaming down your face, I captured in my heart and will not forget it until I am dead. I understood the unspoken message, and I will not let you down. Thank you for everything.<o:p></o:p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-8095450996103892004?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-40904265223747279062010-06-05T07:45:00.000-07:002010-06-20T10:06:43.213-07:00<img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 89px; " src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAqCzHjTNPI/AAAAAAAAE4E/W18roN9cjPg/s320/banner.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479335711361676530" />It all started one day when I was learning HTML and created the classic "Hello World" page. After staring at it for a few seconds, I spent the next few hours playing with the tags and making the page...umm...jazzily colorful. Few days later, I learnt about web hosting and the thought having a website stuck me. I created my first site on Tripod on June 13th, 2000, and kept changing the look as I my knowledge of scripting improved. I uploaded my resume just in case a big tech company wanted to offer me a job looking at my site.<br /><br />Slowly, search engines attracted me and greed crept in. I wanted my site to be the first result and I did every single thing that a webmaster should not do. Strangely the greed was for the first spot and not necessarily for high traffic.<div><br /></div><div><i>For those who are technologically inclined, I put each page in a different directory and named all of them index.html. My home page had a hidden table where the content was in the middle but the rest of the cells had blue background with blue text, the text repeating my name again and again through out so I can trick the search engines to feel that my site was most relevant for the query 'Kalpana'. I created dummy sites linking them back to my site. I signed guest books leaving my footprints like it was a sacred duty...get the picture? Very stupid tricks, most of them don't even work. This zeal fizzed out after some time and my focus slowly started shifting towards content and I started getting addicted to blogging.</i><div><div><br /></div><div>By 2004, I was getting bored of how my site looked like and I wanted to revamp it from scratch. I went to the dashboard and clicked on 'delete the site'. A pop up box said "Are you sure you want to permanently delete your site?". "Yeah, I want to revamp it" I thought and I clicked the button to realize a split second later that 4 years of content was getting completely erased in front of my eyes. </div></div></div><div><br /></div><div>A week later Google was interviewing me. My dream of a big tech company giving me a job was coming true and my interviewer did notice my web address on my resume. "You have a blog! Lets get to a computer and have a look", he said. The site loaded with one page that had half finished copy of 'About me'. "This is your blog? and you have been blogging for 4 years?" he asked. My site was supposed to give me a job in a big tech company, not spoil my chances! "I...actually...umm..." I gave up and said "yeah it needs some...err..content". I got the job but I had to save my face so I started work on my site on a war footing and had it ready in a few weeks time. </div><div><br /></div><div>To show my solidarity towards the company I was working for, I ditched Tripod and moved to GooglePages. Bad move as back then, I had to deal with it's horrible CSS mess and finally, and very reluctantly, moved to Blogger which according to me was like a big roll of toilet paper instead of a traditional website with a nice navigation bar. Over the next few years I created a look that I like, put a navigation bar (kind of thing) and content that now makes me happy. One thing that remained constant throughout is the name of the blog 'justkalpana' and the title 'My Little World'. </div><div><br /></div><div>10 awesome years of blogging! Thanks a million to everyone who reads it and the kind words of encouragement you have been giving me all these years.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-4090426522374727906?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-14188283631259970672010-06-05T04:22:00.000-07:002011-01-02T09:32:29.487-08:00<p></p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SjTyd-Vg65I/AAAAAAAADPo/Lxa8COIz0gw/s1600-h/DSC01797.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SjTyd-Vg65I/AAAAAAAADPo/Lxa8COIz0gw/s200/DSC01797.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347165254358985618" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">(Picture: That's not me. That's my ghost)</span><br /><br />I want to complete <a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://justkalpana.blogspot.com/2009/05/time-for-next-impulsive-adventure.html">the task of cycling to work</a> in the next few days. After training for it for a while (and not being regular to the gym in the last few days), I thought I will give it a shot now.<br /><br />This is not going to be easy in more than one ways. My main obstacles are going to be 1) the sheer distance of 30 KMs, 2) lack of physical stamina (and fainting as a result), 3) possibility of getting injured (like pulling a muscle or tearing a ligament), 4) unruly traffic (doesn't need any elaboration) and more importantly, dogs, rabbied dogs chasing and biting me. <div><br /></div><div>Just in case something happens, I wanted to leave a will.<br /><br />So here goes...<br /><br />...............damn! I don't have too much to give and have too many friends. To crack this, I am not going to find something to give to every friend of mine but I will give everything I have to friends who may be interested in them instead. This would mean I will miss a LOT of names. Lots of love to all of you. It's not you, but the fact that I don't have anything to give you. Since this is a fun will, family is not involved.<br /><br />Let me start with books.<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"> </span><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://freedomunlimitedjessie.blogspot.com/">Jessie Charian</a>, you get to keep all my brand new books but leave your old worn out ones in my book shelf. I believe in reincarnation (for now), and just in case I am born into the same family, I would like to have a good collection of books to read. Bindu Oommen, you get to keep all my books that you are supposed to return to me. But no one gets to touch my Mills and Boon collection (<a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://rosemilkinabottle.wordpress.com/">Gayatri Krishnamoorthy</a>, not even you :P). That is mine and mine alone. It is really difficult to part with my history books but I need to renounce the earthly bonds to go to heaven so, with a heavy heart, I let <a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://serendipityinperspective.blogspot.com/">Uma Nair</a> take all of them, including all my Egyptian mythology, history and fiction books -- especially 'The River God' (which is not mine, but never mind, after me, the book is yours).<br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://runningmyselfin.blogspot.com/">Kaushik Anand Kumar</a>, I have a bunch of vouchers from Odyssey and Cross Words in my bag. They are all yours. Don't touch my bag though. Ask your wife to pick them up for you. Ruksha Patel, my super good looking cracked leather bag is all yours. It has become old and is tearing in corners but its a real traffic stopper and I love it to bits. Nikita Sharma, I would have given you all my accessories (yes<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"> all </span>of them) but I don't have any! Sujatha Narapaneni, my saris (all 3 of them!!) are yours. The bottle of Baileys Irish Cream that is lying with me for ages, Sanjana Sanjiv and Vinitha Naidu, who else can have the rights to it but you.<br /><br />That leaves me only with my clothes. I love them too much to give them away so my cupboard will inherit all of them. Now my bicycle. <a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://noopalvia.blogspot.com/">Anupam Palvia</a>, since you played a big role in making me do this, you get to keep my bicycle (I borrowed it from my neighbor for a few days. I will leave you to discuss this with the owner).<br /><br />Kaushik, you inherit something else too. You get the admin rights of my site. You can't post, but should regularly check the comments and publish them as appropriate. I delete all comments that don't say nice things about me. I expect you to do the same.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-1418828363125997067?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-30468030679047072752010-06-04T05:22:00.002-07:002011-01-02T09:32:29.489-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAkVVRRqUpI/AAAAAAAAE38/9-7-IvSjR5A/s1600/2010-06-5.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAkVVRRqUpI/AAAAAAAAE38/9-7-IvSjR5A/s320/2010-06-5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478933876831834770" /></a>(Was thinking hard about which picture to put here and saw Raunak wearing this tee with his favorite Japanese characters! <meta charset="utf-8">Picture taken from my brand new Nexus One.)<div> <br />My next trip reminds me of a very amusing incident of Raunak when he was 2 years old. He met his talking milestone very quickly and could speak clearly by the time he was 1. I was cleaning the sofas one day when I heard Raunak talking to himself while drawing something. I quietly sneaked up behind him see what he was drawing -- pictures of some people.<div><div> <br /></div><div>'Who are they?', I asked. 'My friends', he replied. 'This is Shizuka Minamoto, these are Matsuzaka and Yoshinaka, this is Nobita Nobi". I felt the blood drain from my face as I realized that all of these were Japanese names. The first thought that formed in my mind was 'reincarnation?'. What else could explain how a 2 year old knew so many tough-to-pronounce Japanese names? I rushed to our room and told Ranjit what I just heard. 'So?' he said. 'What is the logical explanation? How does he know so many <i>Japanese</i> names?'. ' 1) You can ask him, 2) TV?' he muttered while going back to his mindless surfing of channels. '1) Why didn't I think of it?, 2) Why didn't I think of it?' I thought. I spent the next few hours watching kiddie channels and realized that Indian TV is flooded with Japanese cartoons dubbed in Hindi. All the names he rattled are cartoon characters. </div><div> <br /></div><div>I now know a lot more about TV and Raunak. I just asked him 'I am going to the land of Shinchan Nohara. What do you want from there? Dorayaki?' and he said 'Nothing to eat ma. Get me bakugans'.</div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-3046803067904707275?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-69379809881257401712010-05-30T09:34:00.000-07:002010-06-15T08:11:09.594-07:00<div>Have been working on making my cartoons a little better looking. Stumbled upon this one that I should have posted in December, 09 but forgot. Did not change anything from the original. A bright Christmas moment :)</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAKUZhko-DI/AAAAAAAAE24/yuU8LWRkVeQ/s1600/Christmas.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAKUZhko-DI/AAAAAAAAE24/yuU8LWRkVeQ/s320/Christmas.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477103263065634866" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-6937980988125740171?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-68273006526460330962010-05-22T00:52:00.000-07:002011-01-02T09:33:16.477-08:00All boys outing to experience cyclone Laila with the driver playing the role of a guide and taking Ranjit to a laid back place of Dindi 250 KMs from Kakinada. The trip was his usual open ended we'll-go-wherever-life-takes-us kinds. Ranjit did not know this place existed until he landed there and has not stopped singing praises of it since then. I noted down Dindi as a place I want to visit. May be later in June or early July. Monsoon seems to be the time to be there. Lets see. Am putting up a small collection of pictures from the trip just so I remember.<div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-3ee7aff2e241ba90" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v22.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3ee7aff2e241ba90%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331250780%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D7BA302213C21C277FBFAF90D9EC05339808A5C85.3E9177F1D0E34BDC13FA5EEDFB780EF82B31749D%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3ee7aff2e241ba90%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dwo46BmVjNlyCQVF4g1DmECFxUmk&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v22.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3ee7aff2e241ba90%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331250780%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D7BA302213C21C277FBFAF90D9EC05339808A5C85.3E9177F1D0E34BDC13FA5EEDFB780EF82B31749D%26key%3Dck1&iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3ee7aff2e241ba90%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dwo46BmVjNlyCQVF4g1DmECFxUmk&autoplay=0&ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /></object></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-6827300652646033096?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-79198433620662296542010-05-12T04:25:00.000-07:002010-06-13T08:36:38.655-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/S-7RLUMB0FI/AAAAAAAAEwA/62Tu2ym3o3w/s1600/the_journey_of_om.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 218px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/S-7RLUMB0FI/AAAAAAAAEwA/62Tu2ym3o3w/s320/the_journey_of_om.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471540589629657170" /></a> <br />Finally stumbled upon a gem of a debut book written by a young author of Indian origin, <a href="http://mymarriagemywifemylife.blogspot.com/">Chandru Bhojwani</a>. I bought the kindle version of the book and wanted to read it during my journey while I was traveling recently. The book turned out to be such a good read that I finished reading it before I boarded the plane. <br /> <br />This is a story of Om. Om finds his girlfriend Preeti in an intimate moment with Ravi, one of their common friends. The incident makes his heart break into a million pieces and the journey of healing begins. The world of complicated human relations is told with such ease that it does not feel like there was effort put into thinking about the plot. The story is deep and intricate and leaves the reader empathizing with its characters. There is something about the book that made me feel I knew every one of the characters. Chandru brilliantly blends emotion and humor and makes daily life so real that it is hard to believe that it is a story that is being told. The pace is so exciting that I forgot that it was time to check in my baggage and get my boarding pass. <br /> <br />If you have aspirations of writing a story yourself, I would say start with reading this book. It is a perfect example of how various elements of writing should be blended to make a gripping story. <meta charset="utf-8">I would give it a complete 5 on 5. An absolute must read. <br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-7919843362066229654?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-7202485122616892152010-04-29T07:57:00.000-07:002010-06-13T08:36:38.657-07:00<br/><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/S9mfAo3QSLI/AAAAAAAAEv0/hdexI7smJOg/s1600/P-M-B-9788129115515+(1).jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 205px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/S9mfAo3QSLI/AAAAAAAAEv0/hdexI7smJOg/s320/P-M-B-9788129115515+(1).jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465574456108796082" /></a> I continue giving a chance to today's Indian authors and what I feel is a new genre that they are carving. This is exactly what I thought when I picked up this book from a shelf in Landmark. What I did not expect is my mother-in-law freaking out looking at the title of the book thinking I was reading some dark satanic literature. I had to sit with her and explain what this book was about and how the title related to it and only then she felt a little better and let me get back to reading it. <div><br /></div><div>This book is set in a bank, non-banking financial services to be specific. My brother works in this industry so the backdrop of the story seemed very real to me. The author obviously belongs to the banking services space and I have a feeling he must have based the characters on real life people. Somehow difficult to believe that these are purely fictional.</div><div><br /></div><div>There you go! My gut feel was right!...I paused after typing the above paragraph and called my brother to tell him that I have this book that he should read and he tells me "This is the story of my bank. Ravi sir was our country head, some of the characters are people I reported to at some point in time..." </div><div><br /></div><div>The plot is about some very bright young people who climb the corporate ladder quickly because of their abilities. It is also about how they spend most of their intelligence in meeting their goals by hook or crook and indulging in some serious office politics. The characters are well fleshed out and the story is told quite powerfully. In spite of all the bitterness of politics at work, it somehow reinforced my belief that no one is inherently bad. Most of the people who play mind games at work are very intelligent, loyal either to the company or their team -- in most cases to both, and are generally honest people. What really brings the beast out of them is the competition. All of this is very well portrayed in the book. It is also a very clean book. No unnecessary sleaze added to make the book a best seller.</div><div><br /></div><div>The only dampener for me was some very bollywoodish tactics the author used. There was open cross-selling of his other book, 'If God was a Banker' through the characters -- the main character waits in the airport and picks up 'If God was a Banker' from the book store while he waits for the boarding call. That was outright cheap. The author himself makes a guest appearance in the book -- When the main character is in deep trouble and in jail, in comes a high profile suave lawyer "Ravi Subramanian". I felt exactly like how I felt during the climax of the movie 3 Idiots. Great up until the entire plot turns on its head and uses a typical nonsense Bollywood no-logic trick.</div><div><br /></div><div>I liked the divine justice way the book ended but I am still miffed by the entry of the guest appearance lawyer. It somehow feels like the author thought I am too dumb and would enjoy the silly trick. I did not. </div><div><br /></div><div>Surely read the book. Kaushik, before you say it, yes you should read it and I will see how I can send it across to you :)</div><div><br /></div><div>The rest of my book reviews are under the label: <a href="http://justkalpana.blogspot.com/search/label/My%20Books%20My%20Reviews"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">My Books, My Reviews</span></a></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-720248512261689215?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-51884302363995282172010-04-13T10:30:00.001-07:002010-06-15T08:11:09.598-07:00<div>Raunak is growing up :) Looks like my Stumped series have moved into a new phase now.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAKDBxbublI/AAAAAAAAE2g/jefkoBLo7F8/s1600/Thud.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 257px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAKDBxbublI/AAAAAAAAE2g/jefkoBLo7F8/s320/Thud.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477084163308678738" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-5188430236399528217?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-21546501197587743452010-04-06T18:08:00.000-07:002010-06-15T08:11:09.606-07:00<div>I caught my boy showing off a couple of time but is the first time I saw him show off about girls :) Something tells me there will be many more times as he grows up. The picture on the birthday invite is that of Hannah Montana (Miley Cyrus), a teen pop star who is a craze with kids and her name is a big kiddy brand.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAKBzPvHiKI/AAAAAAAAE2Y/4HqQSxn3RJw/s1600/Hannah+Montana.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 250px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAKBzPvHiKI/AAAAAAAAE2Y/4HqQSxn3RJw/s320/Hannah+Montana.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477082814233413794" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-2154650119758774345?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-42674343513456927902010-04-04T11:13:00.001-07:002010-05-23T09:50:33.525-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/S7jh9qmAUYI/AAAAAAAAEr4/q_ak2G7mZrA/s1600/DSC00748.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/S7jh9qmAUYI/AAAAAAAAEr4/q_ak2G7mZrA/s200/DSC00748.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456359398081319298" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div>Shah Rukh Khan played a very important role in our love story. He makes two strategic appearances without which, Ranjit and I would not have been married to each other today.<div><br /></div><div>Appearance 1: Ranjit and I were friends for some time and though he made it clear that he was interested in me, I kept saying we were just 'friends' and thats all I was willing to give to the relation. He was quite frustrated with my attitude but kept waiting patiently for me to change. One day we were sitting together waiting for the rain to stop and I heard someone's tape recorder play '<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cUWLEWxzfCg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Is pyaar se meri taraf naa dekho</span></a>', Shah Rukh and Urmila's song from the movie Chamatkar. Something about that song made me accept the reality of our relationship and I turned to him and asked him "have you heard this song before?" and sang the first couple of lines out to him pretending to be very innocent. He had a twinkle in his eye and a grin from ear to ear. Our courtship officially started :)</div><div><br /></div><div>Appearance 2: Ranjit and I broke up once I joined college. He had some serious problems to solve on his home front and I was eager to embrace the new world that opened up for me. I simply called it quits and he had no time to react (except for being completely heart broken). He left to work in Kurnool, a town in southern AP as a medical rep, his first job. </div><div><br /></div><div>After we got married, Ranjit took me to Kurnool to introduce me to his friends and to show me the place he lived, more importanly, in full filmy style, my name engraved on the wall (I am not kidding!!) I digress. </div><div><br /></div><div>So we broke up once I joined college. For 2 years, I experimented with making new friends and utterly failed. Ranjit in the meanwhile was back from Kurnool. One glimpse at him after so long, I knew he was my real best friend and will always remain so. Ranjit, however, behaved like I did not exist. That night I sat in my room with the lights turned off, knowing that Ranjit must be sitting on the terrace of the opposite building looking at my house. It was too dark for me to know for sure but I sensed his presence. We stayed in Railway quarters that were clustered very close together so it was common to hear the songs played in someone's house loud and clear. This time it was Shah Rukh's '<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fq2AJRbnc8w&amp;feature=related"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Najane mere dilko kya hogaya</span></a>' from Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge. That song felt like someone was tearing my heart apart. I turned on the lights of my room and I saw Ranjit light a match on the terrace almost at the same time. We got together again and 3 years later, I became Mrs Behara.</div><div><br /></div><div>All of this sounds so silly now though it was very real back then and extremely special always. God bless Shah Rukh Khan!</div><div><div><br /></div><div>The rest of the anecdotes about my love story are under the label<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><a href="http://justkalpana.blogspot.com/search/label/My%20Love%20Story"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">My Love Story</span></a></span></b></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-4267434351345692790?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-4349414617524931162010-03-29T08:36:00.000-07:002010-06-15T08:11:09.609-07:00<div>My little boy has not reached the milestone of imagining abstract things like history. I tested and here is what I found :)</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAKArkGuySI/AAAAAAAAE2Q/kJLsJvuhHro/s1600/Early+Man.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 259px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAKArkGuySI/AAAAAAAAE2Q/kJLsJvuhHro/s320/Early+Man.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477081582750583074" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-434941461752493116?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-61621731091731759472010-03-23T07:24:00.000-07:002010-06-15T08:11:09.611-07:00<div>Can't really say if I was inspired by the IPL mania or by this father and son conversation about Cricket to draw this cartoon.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAJ_LVBFgtI/AAAAAAAAE2I/wRIshS4pbco/s1600/Cricket.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAJ_LVBFgtI/AAAAAAAAE2I/wRIshS4pbco/s320/Cricket.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477079929432933074" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-6162173109173175947?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-90864671732689990862010-03-20T22:56:00.000-07:002010-06-13T08:36:38.658-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/S6W1GcY5KOI/AAAAAAAAEps/Dp5Z9N7oj1Y/s1600-h/final011.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 142px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/S6W1GcY5KOI/AAAAAAAAEps/Dp5Z9N7oj1Y/s200/final011.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450962046306298082" /></a><br /><div>I walked into the Landmark store to kill some time and picked up two books that caught my eye. One of it was 'Now that you're rich, lets fall in love'. Little did I know that it would end up getting the lowest rating I ever gave to a book by far. This is not a review, it's some serious feedback to the young authors. While I am impressed with the fact that both these guys ended up publishing their second book at such a young age, I am disappointed at their lack of understanding of the craft of writing. I am no expert myself and I have never written a book, but I still have some serious feedback. <div><br /></div><div>1) Writing for a particular target audience does not just mean using their lingo. If this were true, children's books would be full of blabber. Writing using contemporary themes is extremely tough and only very few people can pull it off well. Those people do not hang on to the dialect of the young. </div><div>2) Think well about the story you want to tell and stick to one theme. Swinging between stark reality, fantasy, recreation of some sensational news item, element of shock and suspense...this is exactly why movies flop too (especially ones where the son's of big starts are introduced).</div><div>3) If the story is light on its feet, keep the number of characters small. Think if you have to make a movie of the book, one or two characters should run the main story with every one else supplementing it. Your book had 6 characters whose lives overlapped with everyone else in the most confusing way. The characters ended up trampling the story and pushing it under the carpet!</div><div>4) Repetition is the most common pit everyone who writes(in any form) falls into. It is tough to correct because most of the times this is a blind spot and we tend to fall in love with what we write. Learning to eliminate repetition is important to keep the write-up readable. Count the number of times you used "whatever" and dozen other words that fill up your pages again and again. </div><div>5) Proofread!! I mean, proofread!!! When you <b>publish</b> a book, you CANNOT have ANY mistakes, grammatical or typos. I can, with great difficulty, forgive one or two but your book has one or two mistakes <i>per page</i>!! </div><div><br /></div><div>I will surely read your next work and if you consider this 'your style', you just attracted some negative publicity from me for your future book.</div><div><br /></div><div>No stars at all out of 5. Sorry! For the story line, read <a href="http://www.fictionnovelreviews.com/2009/09/now-that-youre-rich-lets-fall-in-love.html">this</a> site.</div><div><br /></div><div>Label: <a href="http://justkalpana.blogspot.com/search/label/My%20Books%20My%20Reviews"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">My Books My Reviews</span></a></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-9086467173268999086?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-85552300371720753132010-03-17T11:16:00.000-07:002010-05-23T09:50:33.532-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/S6EgagZX6gI/AAAAAAAAEo0/EC3E7G57JrA/s1600-h/3737998921_ed639c5a80.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/S6EgagZX6gI/AAAAAAAAEo0/EC3E7G57JrA/s320/3737998921_ed639c5a80.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449672663840057858" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(Picture: Not mine. I kicked myself for not carrying my camera with me today but it was not a situation where I could pull it out and start clicking snaps. Found this picture online that is almost identical to the sight I saw today)</span></div><div><br /></div>Did a fun thing on my way back from work today. Took an auto home as I left office a little early and got stuck in a jam near Kawadiguda. There were a group of some 50-60 people walking in a procession. There were men dressed as women carrying pots with cooked rice in them dancing to drum beats. This is a regular ritualistic procession in the region and we see these very regularly here. As the auto got closer and moved painfully slowly from in between the crowd, I got to see the people closely. The ones carrying the pot had fresh piercings -- the scary looking ones, and were dancing as if they were in trace. I have always been irresistibly drawn towards rituals and this one was just too close to the auto to ignore. <div><br /></div><div>After thinking for 5 seconds, I paid the auto guy his fare and joined the procession. I wished I wore Indian clothes instead of jeans today--I stood out in the crowd when I wanted to blend. Though I got some lewd comments from some men, mostly everyone was nice to me. I stuck a conversation with a few ladies and they had an interesting story to tell. But before they got to it, they smeared all of my forehead with turmeric paste and a big red vermilion dot--that was sweet, but a little embarrassing. I was with them for about 1/2 an hour and before I started home, I had to buy two bottles of water to wash the color off so I don't freak my family out.</div><div><br /></div><div>It seems the family deity came in the dream of one of the guys who was dancing, and ordered him to take a procession. She also ordered a sacrifice of a goat to drive away the evil that was plaguing the family. She threatened to take human lives if this was not done. Today being an auspicious day, they decided to conduct this ritual. The men dressed in saris were in deep trance probably induced by alcohol and hallucinogens. The drum beat was mesmerizing and must have added to the effect for them. All through, I could not help but notice the beauty of innocence of these people, I wondered who must be behind making these people do all this, and for what? </div><div><br /></div><div>These kind of experiences always leave me confused. On one hand I feel rituals are the strongest link to the culture that is passed from one generation to the other and it gives me great joy to see these being preserved, practiced and passed on. On the other hand, I wish these people were educated, not be superstitious and not be so vulnerable to manipulation in the name of religion.</div><div><br /></div><div>On a very selfish level, I got to experience the beautiful ritual, interact with some amazing people and store it all away as a rich colorful memory in my mind. Glad I took the auto today!</div><div><br /></div><div>End note: Don't try this if you are a girl and are alone. It's not very safe. Though I throughly enjoyed my impulsive madness, I was quite uneasy at times. Will surely not do it again. Oh and don't let your family know, I am not telling mine. My parents and Ranjit gave up on me but my mother-in-law still believes that I am repairable.</div><div><br /></div><div>Label: <a href="http://justkalpana.blogspot.com/search/label/Impulsive%20Adventures"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><b>Impulsive Adventures</b></span></a></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-8555230037172075313?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-62056956955154562722010-03-12T04:14:00.000-08:002010-05-23T09:50:33.534-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/S5z3iUb_K1I/AAAAAAAAEoU/3fSvVe3aYJQ/s1600-h/IMG_1572.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/S5z3iUb_K1I/AAAAAAAAEoU/3fSvVe3aYJQ/s320/IMG_1572.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448501818185165650" /></a><div style="text-align: left;">(Picture: Ranjit and me at Extreme Sports Bar (I think) a few months ago)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Raunak was born 3 years after Ranjit and I got married, and by then we were were a well settled 'joint family'. We had just bought a new dining table and were having our first dinner on it when my father-in-law remembered a funny anecdote about a little girl that happened many years ago.</div><div><br /></div><div>After joining Railways, my father-in-law retired from playing professional football and athletics. Though he had a busy life with his job and family, for the love of sports, he took up the role of overseeing the running the sports facility of Railways in Hyderabad (called the RRC grounds). </div><div><br /></div><div>One day, he said, he was watching the early morning practice of the athletes and he saw a 5 year old girl quietly walk into his office. When she thought no one was watching her, she tried to make a call from his phone. Those were the days when phones were rare and he knew kids were quite fascinated with them. He thought he would frighten the girl a bit, and walking into his room, asked her in a stern loud voice why she was using the phone without taking permission. The girl saw this 6 1/2 feet tall man catching her red handed and fainted out of fear. He freaked out, took her to the resident nurse, called up her parents, apologized profusely and vowed never to frighten children again. After this, he said "I always wondered where that girl would be now and if she remembers me" and Ranjit said "That girl got married to your youngest son and is having dinner with you now". That little girl was me :) and that must be a divine introduction to his future daughter-in-law.<div><br /></div><div>I met Ranjit 10 years after that incident and another 3 years later when we decided to get married, he showed me the picture of his family. One look at his dad and I said "Oh my God! Don't tell me he is your father. There is no way I am going to marry you now!" :)</div><div><br /></div><div>Other posts from this theme of my life, family, and love are under the label <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><a href="http://justkalpana.blogspot.com/search/label/My%20Love%20Story">'<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><b>My Love Story'</b></span></a></span></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-6205695695515456272?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-31595357309297221182010-03-10T08:32:00.000-08:002011-01-02T09:33:16.479-08:00<div><div><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-e0171c7cb821689c" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3De0171c7cb821689c%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331250780%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2AFD4A95E810A3A0916218737A1576CC2C8EED8E.17D21AE4685087B2012E7C2A681D8FE6B3F1C231%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De0171c7cb821689c%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DzY_uJ7VCACdPxFvx1NyVw5aXQcA&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3De0171c7cb821689c%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331250780%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2AFD4A95E810A3A0916218737A1576CC2C8EED8E.17D21AE4685087B2012E7C2A681D8FE6B3F1C231%26key%3Dck1&iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De0171c7cb821689c%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DzY_uJ7VCACdPxFvx1NyVw5aXQcA&autoplay=0&ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /></object></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Ranjit and I went to Goa last week. Our first holiday together, just him and me, after Raunak was born . The last one was to Vizag when I was 6 months pregnant. We did not want to go on a<b><i>vacation</i></b> together until he was old enough to know that he was being left with his grand parents, and was fine with his mummy and daddy going off on a holiday without him. He is old enough now and was totally cool about us taking off for a few days. He was feeling quite proud to be the in-charge of taking care of his grand mother, the house and the car and he did a fabulous job!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">We are probably the last people on the planet to visit Goa, so skipping the nice things about the place to avoid preaching to the pope situation. After going there, we realized that this was our real honeymoon! We did not go for one when we newly got married. The other trips we made do not really count as a 'holiday'. This was a true vacation where the only mandate was to laze around on the beach.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I am posting the pictures here again (I already posted them on Facebook). I continue to get confused about where to put up the pictures. I am duplicating the storage, but Facebook is to show my friends where I have been to and my blog is more for leaving a record of a part of my life that I want to remember later. So here go the Goa snaps again. I need to figure out a better way to do this from next time onwards.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Lables: <a href="http://justkalpana.blogspot.com/search/label/My%20Love%20Story"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><b>My Love Story</b></span></a></div><div><br /></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-3159535730929722118?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-68410268185273597932010-02-07T02:09:00.000-08:002010-06-15T08:11:09.613-07:00<div>Raunak has his own way of understanding the world. I was stumped the other day that he understands "50%" means half. For a 6 year old, it is not as easy as it is for adults to understand this jargon all by himself.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAJ9Q9Rs-eI/AAAAAAAAE2A/TrDwPo9nSDw/s1600/Discount+Sale.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 260px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAJ9Q9Rs-eI/AAAAAAAAE2A/TrDwPo9nSDw/s320/Discount+Sale.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477077827116136930" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-6841026818527359793?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-51728815919106743502010-02-04T18:25:00.001-08:002011-01-02T09:34:45.848-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/S2ua3JqeQTI/AAAAAAAAEb8/t2JMZBeovkY/s1600-h/n652004135_1828349_1260.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/S2ua3JqeQTI/AAAAAAAAEb8/t2JMZBeovkY/s200/n652004135_1828349_1260.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434607647630180658" /></a>(Picture: My most favorite family picture of ours)<br /><div><br />The cab arrived to pick me up for work on one regular Monday morning a couple of weeks ago. It was a regular Monday with an exception that it was one of the days when there was a protest called by a section of political parties in the city and the public transport came to a stand still. Since my office has its own transport system, I did not bother much and ran downstairs to start my day.<div><br /></div><div>I noticed a new girl in the cab and my cabmate asked if it is OK if her sister hitched a ride with us. There was no way for her to reach her office and she had an important appointment that she could not cancel. I said I was totally fine with it. The pretty 20 something girl sat quietly and got down after a few mins thanking us profusely. </div><div><br /></div><div>I casually asked my cabmate where her sister works and she mentioned she is in the hospitality business and just relocated to Hyd from Bombay. She worked at the Trident there. That rang a bell as this was one of the hotels that was under attack by the terrorists during the Mumbai attacks. I mentioned it to my cabmate and she said "Well yeah, my sister was starting her shift and taking notes from the reception staff who were handing over the responsibility to her when the terrorists entered the reception area". </div><div><br /></div><div>She proceeded to tell the entire string of incidents that happened that day and how her sister escaped death three times in spite of bumping straight into the gunmen who were firing at everything that moved. The first escape was when the lady who was handing over the notes was shot in the stomach and fell on this girl bringing both of them to the ground. She escaped the ire because she was mistaken to be dead. The second escape was when she got a very precious few seconds to run out of the building when the terrorists diverted their attention to a man who resigned his job 3 days ago and was in the reception waiting to collect his experience letter. He was misunderstood to be one of the staff members and when he could not give the maniacs details of the foreign guests, the gunmen decided to set him on fire and burn him alive, which they did. The third escape was when she was running out of the building frantically looking for a safe spot when she faced a rain of bullets directed towards her. All of the bullets missed their mark by a whisker and she could hide in a parking lot along with 200 more people all the night until help arrived in the morning.</div><div><br /></div><div>The anecdote is scary enough but what sent a chill down my spine is how the family in Hyderabad clung to their phone, TV, prayers and helpless tears while their little girl called them once in an hour telling them she was safe. </div><div><br /></div><div>Some conversations just numb the mind and this one just shook me up. I quietly closed my eyes to say a prayer to keep my little one safe from all the evils of the world, small and big, that I cannot protect him from.</div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-5172881591910674350?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-35579189684481885362010-01-31T00:38:00.000-08:002010-06-13T08:36:38.660-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/S2VSDD8JxtI/AAAAAAAAEbc/DSB1kwe2lPk/s1600-h/atlas-shrugged.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 160px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/S2VSDD8JxtI/AAAAAAAAEbc/DSB1kwe2lPk/s200/atlas-shrugged.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432838738043061970" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(Picture: The pic is not mine :) I picked it from Google Images result for the search 'Atlas Shrugged'. The tatoo on the lady's belly is the summary of the book)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Amid a lot of encouraging whistles and discouraging boos, I finally got around reading Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged. This review may be for people who read the book more than people who want to read it. It is a good book and I stand in between people who say it is sacred and others who say it is profane. It is a nice read, and I felt just like how I felt after reading Rand's Fountainhead -- may be I should have read it many years ago.</div><div><br /></div><div>The first time I came to know of Ayn Rand was when I was reading a book called 'The Old School' and the author ridiculed Rand so badly that I *had* to read Fountainhead. My first taste of a part of Atlas Shrugged was when I watched Abhishek Bacchan's movie Guru. I did not realize it then, but when I was reading one of the main character in the book, Hank Reander's monologue during a court scene, I felt the last court scene in Guru was the Hindi translation of this section. The book is powerful and fast paced, Ayn Rand is a good story teller but her characters are all extremes which makes it difficult to relate to any of them. </div><div><br /></div><div>The main protagonists are detached from society and regular human emotion in general, and are bound by some strange telepathic bond. The characters seem to have reincarnated from Fountain Head and I could not resist observe the names of the main characters in both the books -- <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">H</span>oward <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">R</span>oark and <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">H</span>ank <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">R</span>earden...and finally, in the comparison section, what's with Ayn Rand and rough...umm...love making?</div><div><br /></div><div>Rand's parallel agenda seems to be to preach her philosophy of Objectivism through her character's dialogs which makes the long plot, longer. I was a little exhausted when I reached the last 150 pages of the book. Every 50 pages introduced a twist and good one at that which kept the momentum going but after a while, I wished she kept the book thinner. The main purpose of all the characters seem to be self-destruction. Each one had their own style and reason for it but everyone seemed to put themselves through some unnecessary self-imposed punishment. But overall, I liked how easily Rand preached philosophy through fiction.</div><div><br /></div><div>After reading 2 of her books and reading up about Objectivism on the side, I feel her philosophy makes a lot of sense and gives a great deal of inspiration for individual achievements but imagine a world full of Ayn Rand heros and heroines...and I would find myself on a look out for another planet to inhabit. If I read another Ayn Rand book, it has to be her biography. With so much of similarity between two of her books, the third is going to become way too predictable for me.<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-3557918968448188536?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-78071340004396916622010-01-19T09:57:00.000-08:002010-06-15T08:11:09.615-07:00<div>Raunak has started understanding complex social behavior. Children are not born with moral code. One of the times when he had to be corrected but a very smart thinking on his part. He did not want to hurt me and that is very sweet.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAJ8Kqssr-I/AAAAAAAAE14/xqStfenqR-E/s1600/Hipnotic+Solution.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 270px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAJ8Kqssr-I/AAAAAAAAE14/xqStfenqR-E/s320/Hipnotic+Solution.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477076619538247650" /></a><br /><div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-7807134000439691662?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-4698793139290229422010-01-01T07:07:00.000-08:002010-05-23T09:50:33.543-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/Sz4wuwHEkcI/AAAAAAAAEYw/a6OpUvKxNmE/s1600-h/DSC03507.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/Sz4wuwHEkcI/AAAAAAAAEYw/a6OpUvKxNmE/s200/DSC03507.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421824581147333058" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>(Picture: Raunak in front of one of his ancestral houses. It was quite a task to locate the house and establish that this was the one we were looking for. The house is in a depleted condition but we found someone still living there. We could not get through the language barrier and did not quite understand who they were but they were kind enough to give us a tour of the house and let us click some pictures.)</i></span><div><br /><div>Ranjit and I courted for about 5 years before we got married. We did not have the consent of my family for the marriage and so my parents and my in-laws did not meet until Raunak was born -- 3 years after our wedding. In fact, they met for the first time outside the operation theater half-an-hour before I delivered Raunak. </div><div><br /></div><div>A year after our wedding, I was helping my mother-in-law to cook dinner when she started talking about her childhood and I felt a strong sense of deja vu. I shook the feeling off, but every time the topic came up, which was often after the first mention, I had a dizzy feeling that I knew the setting and people she was talking about. After almost 6 months of dealing with this uneasy feeling, I finally asked the question that was about to unlock the mystery. I asked her the name of the place she was describing and she said "Kharagpur". I know that my parents-in-law stayed in Bilaspur for many years before moving to Hyderabad (my father-in-law was a football player and used to play for Bengal. He came to Hyderabad to play a Santosh Trophy match, loved the city and impulsively decided to settle down here). I was hearing about the Kharagpur connection for the first time.</div><div><br /></div><div>The reason this became the key was because I knew that my mother was born in Kharagpur and was brought up there until she was some 12 years old. The people my mother-in-law was talking about were <i>my mother and her elder sister <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">and the place she was describing was the </span>backyard of my mom's house<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">!!</span> </i> My mom told us stories of her childhood in bits and pieces and that was the dizzy<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> deja vu</span> I was experiencing. </div><div><br /></div><div>We all found out that my mom, my mother-in-law and my father-in-law were next door neighbors. My parents-in-law were neighbors and fell in love, got married and moved to Bilaspur later. My mother-in-law, it turned out, used to play with my mom and her elder sister regularly. The families were quite close. My father-in-law and my grand father were very good friends. 40 years and 5 cities later, Ranjit and I fall in love and get married. We did not realize all of this until then, and we later had a fantastic reunion when Raunak was born. It is a small world!</div><div><br /></div><div>I am obsessed about understanding how the family moved from their native villages to Hyderabad on both sides because the story ends with Ranjit and I getting married. This is one of the reasons why I took the trip to Orissa and Bengal to trace our roots.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have told these story many times to friends but it is time I document it somewhere and I choose my blog for this. The main stars of the series are going to be the Indian Railways, Religion, and Football. I am going to pen down my genealogy trail and other anecdotes in random order under the label 'My Love Story' because...that is what it is.</div><div><br /></div><div>Labels: <a href="http://justkalpana.blogspot.com/search/label/My%20Love%20Story"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><b>My Love Story</b></span></a></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-469879313929022942?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-46814343239933992372009-12-20T09:54:00.001-08:002010-06-15T08:11:09.619-07:00<div>One of the most hilarious moments with Raunak. My favorite.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAJ6x44zyOI/AAAAAAAAE1w/5sX8vS2oWD4/s1600/Saral+English.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAJ6x44zyOI/AAAAAAAAE1w/5sX8vS2oWD4/s320/Saral+English.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477075094338783458" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-4681434323993399237?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-85184222647560644612009-12-13T07:56:00.001-08:002011-01-02T09:32:29.491-08:00<p align="center"><embed style="WIDTH: 291px; HEIGHT: 245px" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oWFSG0YL_mM&amp;hl=" width="291" height="245" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" fs="1&amp;" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always"></embed></p><br /><p align="left">My dad bought a Bajaj Chetak when my brother was born. The scooter was the more exciting new entry into the family than my baby brother for me. I remember dad bringing home a lemon yellow Chetak with black rexin seats. His sisters were in town and did an elaborate puja and put a garland around the handle. The memories are so vivid that I can close my eyes and smell the subtle scent of the marigolds and the strong purfume of the incense sticks stuck into the speaker of the horn. I guess mom hated the color or something and so dad got that exchanged with a sky blue one and that remained our companion throughout the childhood of my brother and me. </p><p align="left">For the first few years, mom would hold my brother in her lap and I would stand in the front. I had a little game I used to play during our drives. I would put my palms over the speedometer to hide the reading, try to estimate the speed, remove my palms and confirm if I was right. I soon grew too tall and could not stand in the front anymore. I had to start sitting in between dad and mom and my brother started standing in the front. Like all the boys, his little game was to hold the handle and imagine that he was driving. His happiest moments would be when he would get an occassional permission to honk. When he grew up, the sky blue Chetak was the first bike he rode.</p><p align="left">Chetak was our little open air family car with two wheels. I felt very sad when we sold the scooter and I feel the same when I read Al Kolvites' words "We have sold the last of our Chetak scooters and Bajaj Auto will not be building any more of these classics" </p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-8518422264756064461?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-75254159254486496472009-11-30T09:25:00.001-08:002011-01-26T19:30:19.965-08:00<div>I work in the Internet industry and nothing gives me more pleasure than Raunak showing signs that he understands the concept of being connected. One of my proudest moments.<br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TUDmcSb7Z4I/AAAAAAAAFhI/NeCmxI4hlGI/s1600/Internet.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TUDmcSb7Z4I/AAAAAAAAFhI/NeCmxI4hlGI/s400/Internet.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566702513089636226" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-7525415925448649647?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-51751513391053488442009-11-16T19:42:00.000-08:002010-06-13T08:36:38.662-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SwUUGbwBqMI/AAAAAAAAEEo/N9qpdln5asc/s1600/malcom.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 184px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SwUUGbwBqMI/AAAAAAAAEEo/N9qpdln5asc/s320/malcom.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405749028489111746" /></a>(Picture: I was looking for some interesting pictures or better still a video of Malcolm Gladwell giving a speech, but then I settled for my interpretation of his writing style. This is how all his books are, according to me, and capture the reason why I am a half fan of this guy in a nut shell)<div><br /></div><div>I love Gladwell's books. They are very thought provoking and fast paced. He picks extremely interesting themes and laces his narrative with a lot of information about research done in that field. His books got me hopelessly hooked to Sociology and made me look at things from a completely different perspective. I was chatting with a resident Sociologist at Google recently and I couldn't help thinking how I would present his research if I were Gladwell. </div><div><br /></div><div>The USP of Gladwell is the combination of story telling skills and the research he presents. The only issue is that his style of reiteration is so irritating that by the time I get to the half way point, I can't read his books anymore. The picture above explains why.</div><div><br /></div><div>Though his arguments are quite convincing, I can never completely believe that he is not mixing up causation and correlation. The distrust is more because of his background -- he is a journalist.</div><div><br /></div><div>I prefer reading his articles in the New Yorker and on his blog (though he has not updated his blog in some time now) to reading his entire book. However, his books fall into the absolutely must read category and I recommend Outliers as the first book that should be read followed by others in any order. </div><div><br /></div><div>BTW, this post is dedicated to Abhijit Gogoi :) </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-5175151339105348844?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-60828857610388316952009-11-14T21:53:00.000-08:002010-05-23T09:50:33.564-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/Sv-5R7zvnEI/AAAAAAAAEDA/I8pndLorRD4/s1600-h/ni_hao.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 130px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/Sv-5R7zvnEI/AAAAAAAAEDA/I8pndLorRD4/s200/ni_hao.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404241795631520834" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/Sv-iCUKMQGI/AAAAAAAAECw/asBlNWXKeFY/s1600-h/ni_hao.jpg"></a>Sometime ago, I had this sudden desire to learn Chinese after a friend at work mentioned it casually. I signed up for an online course to check out how tough it would be to learn a foreign language (I used Rosetta Stone and I highly recommend it, especially for beginners). It was TOUGH to say the least, but I started enjoying it as the lessons progressed. The language is so different and the intonations so intricate that I felt completely exhausted after I finished the first unit. I gave up. But then, when I logged in again after a week, I was surprised that I did retain the basics and the second unit seemed a little easy and the language a teeny weeny bit familiar. <div><br /></div><div>I spent learning a few hours every week for about 3 months and today, I completed 2 levels of the speaking and listening course. At this point, I have a choice of going to level 3 or practicing what I learnt until now. I choose to practice but the problem is, practice with who? Without active conversation in Chinese, I will forget everything I learnt in one month flat. </div><div><br /></div><div>What started as fun has really caught my interest now and I am now going to go hunting for someone who speaks Chinese Mandarin and can help me practice my newly acquired language skills a bit. If you know me personally, and if for some reason, I do not know that you can speak Chinese, can you please shoot me an email. </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-6082885761038831695?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-29376324475995161782009-11-04T19:51:00.000-08:002011-01-02T09:32:29.493-08:00<div><br /></div>I lost all of Raunak's pictures sometime ago but I stumbled upon a collage I made as an 'introduction' when he joined Nursery. This captures almost all the best pictures and it tells a story of his life when he was 3. It feels like finding Kohinoor while searching for stapler pins (I actually found this while searching for stapler pins).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SvKuQWfUQTI/AAAAAAAAEB4/vFnNp_r4yLs/s1600-h/Image001.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 290px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SvKuQWfUQTI/AAAAAAAAEB4/vFnNp_r4yLs/s400/Image001.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400570499108716850" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-2937632447599516178?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-89177432228628842442009-11-01T06:52:00.000-08:002010-06-15T08:11:09.624-07:00<div>We are a multi-religious, multi-cultural, multi-lingual family with different food habits (well I am a strict vegetarian while Ranjit, Rauank and my parents-in-law are not). Raunak has interesting ways to comprehend the differences.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAJ19LsuDsI/AAAAAAAAE1g/62Oj4k4Qr08/s1600/Carnivorous+Herbivorous.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAJ19LsuDsI/AAAAAAAAE1g/62Oj4k4Qr08/s320/Carnivorous+Herbivorous.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477069790808772290" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#551A8B;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></i></span></span></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-8917743222862884244?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-15978745622346392792009-10-30T07:58:00.000-07:002010-05-23T09:50:33.568-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SuscgR9zpcI/AAAAAAAAD_E/k5TRrBc0Xig/s1600-h/DSC03355.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 181px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SuscgR9zpcI/AAAAAAAAD_E/k5TRrBc0Xig/s200/DSC03355.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398439919237703106" /></a>(Picture: Raunak and me (with my new hairstyle))<div><br />One of Ranjit's friend's family fell prey to Chickungunya. Every single one of them except for the youngest son and his 9 months pregnant wife (thank God for that!). I offered to stay with them for the night in the hospital, and it is scary to sit and watch everyone go through so much of pain. This is a small nursing home and the entire ward is filled with the members of the big joint family. I am sitting right in the middle, updating my blog and searching for "is chickungunya contagious?" Have a Mills and Boon in my bag to read later. In the 10 seconds I got to pick up some book for the night, I ensured that I picked up a one with a medical theme to fit the setting I am in. <div><br /></div><div>But seriously, I hope all of them recover quickly, and do protect yourself and your loved ones from mosquitoes. </div><div><br /></div><div>PS: Just got a call from home that Raunak is down with fever. It is going to be one hell of a weekend! And of all the weekends that passed by, this happens to be one rare one when I didn't want to do anything at all, just wanted some quiet time. </div><div><br /></div><div>All wishes are granted...some are granted in reverse.</div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-1597874562234639279?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-36790716405027710552009-10-21T09:32:00.000-07:002010-06-13T08:36:38.664-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/St_JFFmvfoI/AAAAAAAAD4o/oFnWGK7258o/s1600-h/844889740_3378530e28.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 160px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/St_JFFmvfoI/AAAAAAAAD4o/oFnWGK7258o/s200/844889740_3378530e28.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395251967854345858" /></a><br /><div>(Picture: not mine. I looked up a lot of very interesting pictures of Sheedis but I kept coming back to this one. There is something very beautiful about this little girl's eyes)</div><div><br />A month or two ago, I attended a wedding of one of <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SWzbP2g1O9I/AAAAAAAACu4/ioiVDKK00G0/s1600-h/DSC02372.JPG"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Ranjit's</span></a> close friends. It was a typical Telangana wedding, very colorful, lots of folk music and the very peppy <i>teen maar</i> drum beats. I am a big fan of folk music of various places and have a special love for Telangana folk, so I stayed on until the very end when the real music and dance starts. By the middle of the night all men were sufficiently drunk to dance the whole night around the drummers and I pulled my chair closer to the group to watch the fun. The drummers started with all the regular stuff and when the thing reached a crescendo, they switched to a very typical African drum beat. That surprised me, and I was a little puzzled when I looked at the faces of the musicans (these are not the posh artists who play in clubs. They are utterly poor and play music at weddings and funerals for a living). These people had distinct African features. <div><br /></div><div>Later when I spoke to Ranjit, he told me that they are African-Indians called Sheedis, Siddhi's or Choush (depending on the region they settled in India/Pakistan) whose ancestors were soldiers and harem guards of Nizam, and came to India through slave trade. He said a few families who are the descendants of these people live in King Koti, Pahadi Shariff and Chandrayanagutta areas and have retained some of their African rituals and especially music. I have been in Hyderabad all my life and this was the first time I was hearing about these people. </div><div><br /></div>I was very intrigued and spent the next few days pouring over articles on Internet to learn more about them and realized a possible reason why I never heard of them before. Most of these people are backward economically, suffered racial discrimination for generations together because of their color and looks and are so ignored that very little is written about them. There are however some who made a name in sports and others who have successful businesses, mostly selling meat. </div><div><br /></div><div>The only way I could now know more this these titbits was to get in touch with the drummers I saw at the wedding. At this point, a fantastic coincidence happened, actually, two fantastic coincidences. I finished the book I was reading and randomly picked up the next one. This happened to be a book called 'Empires of Indus' that <a href="http://www.blogocentricity.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">a friend of mine</span></a> gave me. To my surprise and absolute delight, most of the book is about Sheedis!!!!! Is this a miracle or what! Fairly comprehensive and very well written book that covered the history and current status of many Sheedis in Sindh province of Pakistan.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I also spoke about this to my maid who happens to be a muslim (most of the Sheedis are muslims) and she told me she knows someone who know a Sheedi family and can take me to one of their weddings later in the month if I was interested in seeing the rituals they follow!!! I gave my maid a big hug!! If <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SWzb7lq9VGI/AAAAAAAACvA/2sTA_0BWfeA/s1600-h/sonny+boy.JPG"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Raunak's</span></a> dictation and weekly test schedule permits, I am off to Bidar to witness a Sheedi wedding in a few days!</div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></b></div><div><a href="http://nsquared-i.blogspot.com/2006/09/siddis-slice-of-east-africa-in-india.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Here</span></a> is a good post that basically summarizes in 2-3 paras everything that most of the online articles say (which is not much). <a href="http://www.empiresoftheindus.co.uk/">This</a> site has a pretty good description of the book 'Empires of the Indus'. I am not writing a review for this one. Great book but you need some introduction to history of ancient India and current Pakistan to enjoy it fully.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-3679071640502771055?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-44504291895278536132009-10-18T09:55:00.000-07:002010-06-15T08:11:09.626-07:00<div>Thanks to my awesome parents-in-law, Ranjit and I get ample opportunity to get away for some quiet time with each other while they take care of Raunak. This happened when we were in Goa recently.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAJ0K3Qi1nI/AAAAAAAAE1Y/yRXOQGdji2E/s1600/Goa.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 262px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAJ0K3Qi1nI/AAAAAAAAE1Y/yRXOQGdji2E/s320/Goa.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477067826816800370" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-4450429189527853613?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-7216235466143419842009-10-05T08:55:00.000-07:002010-05-23T09:50:33.574-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SszFEn7v1iI/AAAAAAAADu0/FhWRW6n3PDU/s1600-h/_Media+Card_BlackBerry_pictures_IMG00082.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SszFEn7v1iI/AAAAAAAADu0/FhWRW6n3PDU/s200/_Media+Card_BlackBerry_pictures_IMG00082.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389899537285371426" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SszB9FBZGXI/AAAAAAAADus/y33N1DeoSLg/s1600-h/_Media+Card_BlackBerry_pictures_IMG00082.jpg"></a>(Picture: Chappal shopping in Mumbai)<br /><div><br />Ranjit and I got into this ritual of shopping in a different city for Raunak's birthday for the past 2 years. The excuse is Raunak's birthday and the hidden agenda is shopping for me. It all started one fine evening with us hunting for a faded blue denim dungarees for his birthday last year. After 3 hours of visiting all the regular shops, we sat down at Mehfil for dinner -- disappointed, exhausted, and hungry. We go there frequently. Great food and live ghazals! During our conversation, I told Ranjit that Hyderabad is not a great place for shopping and I wish we had more variety like Bangalore and other metros. Ranjit said "lets go". "Where?", I asked him. "Bangalore" he said, and off we went to Yatri Nivas to catch a bus to Bangalore. Called up home on our way and told my mother-in-law that we would be back the day after morning and we left. Of all our impulsive travel plans stories, this is my favorite. <a href="http://justkalpana.blogspot.com/2008/09/great-bangalore-visit.html">This</a> captures what we ended up doing in Bangalore.<div><br /><div>So this year, it was Mumbai. It was a short weekend trip and I probably went at the wrong time to all wrong places in the city. The point was to experience shopping that is unique to the place we visit. We took a lot of time to figure out the places and specific shops to go to, and as a result did a lot of walking in the sweltering heat. Could not carry on for long, and our adventure on the roads had to be cut short to head back to the hotel and watch the India Pakistan Champion's trophy match. India lost the match! What a wasted trip. </div><div><br /></div><div>I don't believe that I did such a bad job with a city like Mumbai! The only thing that went well was my shoe shopping. Bought 7 pairs and this time, I am not going to keep the shoes in the rack for ages until I don't even remember I bought them. My goal is to wear all of them by the end of this month. Yeah we got stuff for Raunak too, but nothing unique. Definitely not like how it was in Bangalore. </div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-721623546614341984?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-60437599049414232782009-10-02T07:26:00.001-07:002010-06-13T08:36:38.665-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SsYNla9q2uI/AAAAAAAADuE/FXlxe6NLqMA/s1600-h/iacocca-ford-mustang+(1).jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SsYNla9q2uI/AAAAAAAADuE/FXlxe6NLqMA/s320/iacocca-ford-mustang+(1).jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388008940739680994" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(Picture: Not mine. Silver 45th Edition Ford Mustang and Lee Iacocca)</span></span><br /><div><br /></div><div>I did not either until I read his autobiography and I am glad I read the book. Lee Iacocca is the father of 'Mustang' and put a dying Chrysler, one of the 3 automobile giants of America back into business after being fired from Ford as a President where he worked for 32 years.<div><br /></div><div>This is the most delightful autobiography I have read in a while. It is filled with smart witticisms and clever sarcasm that makes the narrative race ahead with lightning speed. There are two main reasons why the book blew me away. One, the guy's personality. He is one of America's biggest corporate heros and most well known faces. He knows he made history, he is arrogant, boastful (well for the kind of things he achieved, he has all the right to be so), honest, humble, witty, and vengeful all rolled into one. I know someone with similar qualities and that made the book even more interesting to me. </div><div><br /></div><div>Two, this is a completely one sided book. A printed version of a very lively bitching session. Iacocca tells his side of story and cares a damn about the other side. There are people he hates and is very angry with. He very clearly explains why he is angry and at times, if he thinks Henry Ford II is a jerk, he calls him one. Not just Henry Ford, many prominent CEOs, Senators, Presidents of America, no one is spared. I Googled every single one of them just to see if any one is alive and if they gave public responses to what he said about them in his book. His opinions are quite strong and his language is caustic.</div><div><br /></div><div>There are 4 parts to the book. In the first part he talks about his very hard working parents and the strong bond he shares with his family. Very touching, and something most of us will be able to relate to. The second part is lets-rip-up-the-bastard (Henry Ford) kind of a section. And what a way of ripping up a person's reputation -- slowly, deliberately and completely. The third is the story of how he turned a gigantic company that was heading towards a certain bankruptcy into a giant again. The forth, can be ignored. He talks about his opinions about various things like seat belts and some more stuff that I did not find very interesting to read.</div><div><br /></div><div>The book also introduced me to the fascinating world of cars and the auto industry. I never thought I would use the word 'fascinating' and cars in the same sentence before I read the book. Full 5 stars, and a must read if you are dreaming to make it big in the corporate world.</div><div><br /></div><div>A HUGE thanks to my team for gifting this book to me. You could not have picked a better one guys. This is perfect!</div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-6043759904941423278?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-23959826964610942472009-09-30T01:07:00.000-07:002011-01-02T09:46:04.421-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SsMYhhNZXjI/AAAAAAAADtU/GdK49_3wVOE/s1600-h/one.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SsMYhhNZXjI/AAAAAAAADtU/GdK49_3wVOE/s320/one.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387176543394553394" /></a><div>(Picture: Raunak, first birthday)</div><div><br /></div>6 years old already! You have achieved a milestone that is very dear to me -- reading. Delightfully, you have taken to reading both Hindi and English story books, and I hope the interest you are showing now stays with you. <div><br /><div>You have started getting into fights, both beating and getting beaten up equally frequently. According to grandma, you are always right and according to me, you are always wrong and between both of us, you get a balanced message.</div><div><br /></div><div>You are also getting increasingly aware of the multi-religious, multi-cultural, multi-lingual family that we are and are getting to understand the sensitive spots when such a mix lives under one roof. We are all just "Indians" according to you. That is good. It's an inclusive approach with a strong sense of identity and I like it.</div><div><br /></div><div>You sing (pretty well), you draw, you share your toys, you cheat when you play board games, you hide your test papers when you score single digit marks...basically, you are a happy child and are enjoying your childhood well.</div><div><br /></div><div>One of your front teeth is wobbling...a clear sign that you are out of the baby phase...It feels good to watch you grow from a toddler to a young boy.</div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-2395982696461094247?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-15795397953482459502009-09-07T19:19:00.000-07:002010-06-13T08:36:38.667-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SqXALheudXI/AAAAAAAADqk/0QdUnKDGT1A/s1600-h/M_Id_100713_jaswant_singh.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SqXALheudXI/AAAAAAAADqk/0QdUnKDGT1A/s320/M_Id_100713_jaswant_singh.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378916634162263410" border="0" /></a><br />(Picture: Jaswant Singh with his controversial book -- <b>Jinnah</b>, India-Partition Independence)<br /><br />I had to read this book! Not because it became controversial, but more because of the interesting dynamics it presented. 1) This is a book on Jinnah by one of the top BJP leaders 2) It's written by a politician so everyone thinks 'what is the hidden agenda?. I do too. 3) Pro-Hindu organizations/parties do not remember Gandhi's reaction and his appeals during post-partition riots are not fondly.<br /><br />I was left unimpressed with the book overall. Not because it did not live up to the hype but in general, it was an average history text book. The only time when the book solely focuses of Jinnah is when the author explores Jinnah's equation with Gandhi -- sometimes basing it on historic documents and sometimes simply on his opinion. The author tries to be politically correct by subtly taking Jinnah's side at times and Gandhi's side during the others. Though Jinnah and Gandhi had strangely similar backgrounds, Gandhi is projected as a leader who got everything easy, coming from a wealthy influential family, and having the natural support of the Hindu community and Jinnah as the one with many disadvantages, but the chapter is based on simple obvious observations rather than real research. The entire thing lacked depth.<br /><br />I did not get a glimpse of Jinnah as a person in the book. I did not get to understand his side of story. All I got was a chronological list of events of India's independence struggle that can be read from any history book. The only difference being Jaswant Singh's English is quite tough to read. He used the old school English which made it difficult for me to enjoy reading the very thick book.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-1579539795348245950?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-86462337543864517952009-09-02T10:20:00.000-07:002010-05-23T09:50:33.580-07:00<div style="text-align: center;"><object width="448" height="372" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-6e66bbaac594beba" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v16.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D6e66bbaac594beba%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331250780%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D76AD404F323D6687DB4DF55A751CEE23D4994DC3.3B84FC9728F298D653B6AAA7F711EE3B1538465A%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D6e66bbaac594beba%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DcmqpNxUH1W8xux2RiwtIuk8p8_w&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="448" height="372" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v16.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D6e66bbaac594beba%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331250780%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D76AD404F323D6687DB4DF55A751CEE23D4994DC3.3B84FC9728F298D653B6AAA7F711EE3B1538465A%26key%3Dck1&iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D6e66bbaac594beba%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DcmqpNxUH1W8xux2RiwtIuk8p8_w&autoplay=0&ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /></object></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-8646233754386451795?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-43480241986554308032009-08-26T06:31:00.000-07:002010-05-23T09:50:33.581-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SpU6RnJZZ9I/AAAAAAAADqE/S7mAcLCGOAQ/s1600-h/IMG_0287.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 212px; height: 159px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SpU6RnJZZ9I/AAAAAAAADqE/S7mAcLCGOAQ/s320/IMG_0287.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374265804577138642" border="0" /></a><br />(Picture: Clicked by Gene with her amazing camera that she refuses to sell to me. Thanks Gen! You gave me all the attention I needed with all the pictures I made you click at gun point :P )<br /><br />Went for a fish pedicure with bunch of friends from work and what an experience it was. I was one of the first to try and the sight was quite disgusting as you can make out form the picture. Everyone kept asking me how it felt and I kept saying "gross". Well, that pretty much describes the entire experience quite accurately. This is surely the most disgustingly amazing experience I have ever had and such harmless disgustingly amazing experience needs to be repeated so I will be doing it again.<br /><br />Though the 15 mins was thick, pure, delicious, undiluted torture, my feet became so soft and shiny and supple that it was totally worth it. Next time I fight with my mom, I will take her for a nice fish pedicure as my way of apologizing :P<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-4348024198655430803?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-88504533328048261942009-08-18T07:48:00.001-07:002010-06-15T08:11:09.628-07:00<div>I am a believer in Science and my mother-in-law is a devout Christian. Raunak brilliantly balances both of us during tricky situations. Here is a classic example.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAJzPKD5BSI/AAAAAAAAE1Q/ow26H0G02pQ/s1600/Science+vs+Religion.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 232px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAJzPKD5BSI/AAAAAAAAE1Q/ow26H0G02pQ/s320/Science+vs+Religion.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477066801071850786" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-8850453332804826194?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-9026211428501580562009-08-09T05:00:00.000-07:002010-06-13T08:36:38.669-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/Sn7BY6YDEvI/AAAAAAAADnw/Qi2Cb3HSGYc/s1600-h/Dianetics.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 167px; height: 245px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/Sn7BY6YDEvI/AAAAAAAADnw/Qi2Cb3HSGYc/s320/Dianetics.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367940439603352306" border="0" /></a><br />I fell ill recently and stayed at home one whole week. To kill time, I thought I'd pick up a book and since I knew I had so much of time on my hand, I thought I'd read something that needs focus and concentration. I chose L. Ron Hubbard's 'Dianetics', the Scientology bible. Without planning that way, I also attended Landmark Forum during the next weekend and it's worth mentioning about both together. Read on.<br /><br />It took me the entire week to complete Dianetics and I was exhausted reading it. The language is heavy and the author repeatedly tries to change the meanings of the words as we know them. I almost felt like I came out of the experience with a new jargon that I probably will use sub-consciously if not consciously.<br /><br />I have always been very interested in learning about religions, and Scientology is very different from any religion I studied. The book is powerful in the sense that it can influence a person to start thinking and living differently. For example, there is a huge emphasis on negative thoughts from the past that repeatedly influence how we react to our present situations. The philosophy (or technology as Ron likes to refer to it) teaches how to quell these negative thoughts and make them stop adversely influencing the present. The book is quite interesting and a must read if you are open to read about different interpretations of life, soul, morals, right/wrong and Science. You will be able to enjoy the book if you are open to at least listening to the another perspective than the one that you have been taught (by your religion or Science).<br /><br />Coincidentally, I attended the Landmark Forum during the next weekend, something I have been looking forward to attending for a while now. I enrolled for the 3 1/2 day course but chose to leave the course after the first day. I heard mixed reviews from people who attended the entire course, but my one day experience left me wondering why the Landmark teachings and Scientology principles seemed to be connected in some way. I connected both of them when the Forum leader mentioned about the 'technolgy' of dealing with breakdowns. I could not put a finger on it, but both seemed to be quite similar in many ways. I did further reading and now have a better understanding of why I felt that way.<br /><br />About the course itself, it has a good positive message of being in control and taking charge but they also have a VERY hard, on your face sales pitch that is so strongly intertwined in their lectures that I found it difficult to sit through the entire day. The methodology is large group workshop, and the way they sell their courses is through strong networking and word of mouth. Both menthods are extremely powerful and I was impressed with how brilliantly they used both. As far as the selling itself is concerned, they are a for-profit company and they are selling like any other company would sell their product. Doesn't MacDonald's sell the slice of cheese to you when you ask for a burger?<br /><br />I cannot comment on whether the course is good or not as I did not experience majority of it. It definitely did not work for me personally. It now falls under "I know that I don't know about what it could have done to me". I choose leaving it that way.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-902621142850158056?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-56141986296545360152009-08-02T07:39:00.000-07:002010-06-15T08:11:09.630-07:00<div>Raunak does things like stealing the cake from the fridge and thinks no one will notice and gets zapped when I catch him. I tell him that mummies know everything about their child but I did not realize that he would ponder on it.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAKEJsq1tkI/AAAAAAAAE2o/slJNPI_reLc/s1600/Surveillance+Cameras.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 270px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAKEJsq1tkI/AAAAAAAAE2o/slJNPI_reLc/s320/Surveillance+Cameras.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477085398980474434" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-5614198629654536015?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-38601416991646871902009-07-22T08:54:00.000-07:002010-05-23T09:50:33.593-07:00<p></p><p></p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SmdMFqFdjYI/AAAAAAAADlA/lolmwKP9bWM/s1600-h/mumbai-attack-81.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 144px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SmdMFqFdjYI/AAAAAAAADlA/lolmwKP9bWM/s200/mumbai-attack-81.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361337541488119170" border="0" /></a>(Picture: Not mine)<br /><br />Kasab's case is getting more and more ridiculous by the day. This guy was caught red handed, millions of us saw him on the footage that he accepts is his, and the case still drags on. I am not a big advocate of capital punishment but there are exceptions when it is needed.<br /><br />I feel harsh punishment is needed for brutal crimes and an entire lifetime in prison is a lot more harsh than a quick death from capital punishment (apart from the fact the murdering a murderer is not something we should be proud of). But when it comes to cases where someone has become a threat to the national security, my moral code changes. We are a civilized nation and a criminal, no matter how barbaric he is, should get a fair trial...but a 'quick' fair trial. At least in cases like these. After witnessing the minute by minute footage of Mumbai attacks, which I will never forget in my life, it pains to know that one of the people who caused it is still alive and leading quite a decent life albeit in a prison.<br /><br />How difficult is it to prove that he committed 'a' murder? If that is not enough to hang him, how difficult is it to prove that he committed 'a few' murders? Done. He murdered people and is a terrorist by his own confession, has given a bunch of other details of who masterminded the attack, how they were trained, and how it was executed. Do a rapid verification of the facts, and go hang him. Let the families who lost their loved ones have a quick closure to this.<br /><br />We are currently a nation with the right attitude, but with a wrong bureaucratic lethargic legal system. Punish Kasab, and get back to diplomatic dialog for cooperation from Pakistan. We need to close the past fast and secure our future for long term peace, and not spend years in the court room letting the guy change statement after statement.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-3860141699164687190?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-22835953210223648032009-07-11T08:17:00.000-07:002011-01-02T09:34:45.850-08:00<p></P><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/Sli8R9eMaBI/AAAAAAAADkg/p5C9ra5bamo/s1600-h/tear-drop.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 160px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/Sli8R9eMaBI/AAAAAAAADkg/p5C9ra5bamo/s200/tear-drop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357238773502208018" border="0" /></a>(Picture: Not mine)<br /><br />There was a boy, about 24 years old, only child. He went to a city along with his mother for a day to interview for a job. He was seeing a girl for a couple of years now. Initially they had to bear with the society frowning at them for being in love, later when they persuaded their parents that what they really wanted was to marry after a couple of years with everyone's consent, the hearts softened. It was agreed that the girl and the boy can get married once they complete their studies and find some decent jobs and will not meet each other until then.<br /><br />The boy hoped that he would clear the interview, and then approach the parents and fix the date for the wedding. The girl prayed hard from the moment the boy took the train to the city two days ago.<br /><br />After the interview, the boy headed to his hotel room, spoke to his mother about how well it went, took a tablet for the fever he developed since the afternoon, and went to sleep...never to wake up again.<br /><br />....We woke up in the morning with the mother letting us know about the terrible incident, and I had the horrible job of breaking the news to the girl, while <a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://justkalpana.blogspot.com/2008/08/ranjit-my-hubby-boy.html">Ranjit</a> had to head to the boy's house to break the news to his father. The mother was more concerned about how the girl would take this news than anything else. She repeatedly asked to ensure that someone takes care of her and she should head to the boy's house so she can mourn the death of her would-have-been husband. I was moved with this as, usually the girl is considered a source of embarrassment since the whole issue of love has been hushed up, and was kept a secret. But the feeling lasted exactly half-an-hour as I was asked to break another news to her. The relatives and well wishers discussed this and decided that the girl cannot come to the boy's house and cannot attend the funeral. I refused to do it. Someone else did, and the girl refused to listen.<br /><br />She is now at the boy's place, waiting for the body to arrive...all her dreams shattered and the stares that scream "you are not wanted here" giving her company.<br /><br />Life is so unfair at times.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-2283595321022364803?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-70080618433739512282009-07-09T09:03:00.000-07:002011-01-02T09:32:29.495-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SlYVuJQvkwI/AAAAAAAADjo/qTVM94miwHs/s1600-h/Kalpana-full.jpeg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SlYVuJQvkwI/AAAAAAAADjo/qTVM94miwHs/s200/Kalpana-full.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356492689308095234" border="0" /></a><br />(Picture: One of my favorite pictures with Raunak which I uploaded on my old site)<br /><br />My hard disk crashed last week. Complete no-hope-left-to-recover-any-data kind of a crash. I had all the pictures of Raunak I clicked since he was born and I did not take a backup...ever. Initially I panicked, then felt so depressed that I could not breathe, then so sad that I cried every night for a few days.<br /><br />But then, I slowly realized that we can survive without things that are important and precious to us. The loss seems so unfair. It feels like a part of me has been torn away, but then what is lost is lost. No matter how much you want it back, it won't come back. I just accepted the fact...in more contexts than one.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-7008061843373951228?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-2171424561817019422009-07-06T03:19:00.000-07:002010-06-13T08:36:38.671-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SlHUmkWhdlI/AAAAAAAADi4/8_PpR3bPTxQ/s1600-h/cheer-haran-Draupadi_1382.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 158px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SlHUmkWhdlI/AAAAAAAADi4/8_PpR3bPTxQ/s200/cheer-haran-Draupadi_1382.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355295190978491986" border="0" /></a><br />God bless Winston (a friend of mine from work) for lending me this book. I would not have stumbled upon it if he did not give it to me one day just like that saying "read this. It is a good one". I took the book, kept it around for a while and picked it up to read and after putting it down, I told Ranjit "This is by far the best book I have ever read. Period"<br /><br />I love mythology and grew up hearing and reading about stories of Mahabharata (actually watching episodes of it on Sundays more than hearing and reading).<br /><br />When I read the reviews that this book is Mahabharata retold but from Draupadi's perspective, I was skeptical. First of all, Mahabharata retold is not very appealing. I heard the stories so many times that I did not want to read it all over again. It can be quite taxing to read an epic, even if it is an abridged version. Over that, it was Draupadi's view which for me, translated to a very feminist version showing the world how poorly we treat our women -- a subject I am not too keen on reading about. Why? That will make a whole different post. So I reluctantly picked up the book and before I finished the first 2 pages, I was hooked.<br /><br />The reason being Draupadi is like any ordinary woman. No overtures of woman power. Just a simple girl who is doubtful about the divinity of people like Krishna, the concept of heaven and hell, and the fact that she is born with a purpose. My most favorite character in Mahabharata is Karna and I liked the fact that Draupadi and Karna were secretly in love with each other (this by the way falls under the creative liberty the auther took in the book and does not match with the original story). I must say that the romance was most beautifully handled. I loved the way the chapters were named "smoke", "blue", "pyre"...somehow, they helped in retention and all the complex stories seemed not so complex when associated with the names of the chapters.<br /><br />The only gap in the book was the fact that the author described Draupadi's relationship with all her husbands but Arjun's. Given the fact that he is the most important of her husbands because he was the one who won her, it seemed a little strange the he was a mere shadow.<br /><br />The book got me thinking why God faces so much of complexity when He incarnates to free the world of sin. The simplest mythological story I heard where good was restored and bad destroyed is that of Noah's arc among all the ones I heard. God said "collect 2 animals each of all species and get into a ship. I will drown the earth and you can start fresh". Simple! This is exactly how I would have handled things if I were God. No complexities for me.<br /><br />I totally love Mahabharata. Never ceases to draw me into its mysteries. Fantastic book. 5 stars. Must read. Must add to the collection.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-217142456181701942?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-17191417661668685512009-06-23T04:11:00.000-07:002010-05-23T09:50:33.603-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SkizqiiSiwI/AAAAAAAADiY/WIxiUGVlUD4/s1600-h/DSC02767.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SkizqiiSiwI/AAAAAAAADiY/WIxiUGVlUD4/s200/DSC02767.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352725700536339202" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />(Picture: Me with my cousin Kalyani. Dad tweaked with the settings of the camera and is craning to see if the flash would get switched on in that mode)</span><br /><br />I am teaching Raunak to tie various knots. This is in preparation to teach him to pitch a tent. I was going through my childhood pictures and felt nostalgic looking at the pictures from my Girl Scout days. Pitching tents in the wilderness of the Manoharabad forests, building bridges from staves and ropes, making swings and rope ladders to climb trees, cooking on fire made from dried twigs, methodically leaving marks on trees as we walk into the woods to ensure we are not lost, the code language with whistles for emergencies...those were some of the best days of my life. I wanted to introduce Raunak to the joys camping in the wild with absolute basic equipment. The ides was to substitute wilderness with the backyard of my parent's place. Raunak had already mastered the art of tying a <a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://www.animatedknots.com/cloveboating/index.php">Clovehitch</a> and a <a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://www.animatedknots.com/reef/index.php?LogoImage=LogoGrog.jpg&amp;Website=www.animatedknots.com">Reef knot</a>. I was very excited until I spoke about this to a friend of mine. He asked me why I have to do all this when he will never really have the need to pitch a tent in his life. Well the intention is not really to teach Raunak survival skills in extreme situations. It is just to have some fun. Fun that is different from playing video games, going to the bowling alley, watching TV and having a snack at Mac Donald's that he gets to do all the time. But then, the straight forward logic of my friend killed me. It got me thinking if my childhood was different.<br />The first memory that came to my mind when I put that question to myself was the time when my parents decided it was time to bid adieu to Doordarshan and the antenna on the terrace and graduate to cable TV. Mom asked dad to give away the antenna to someone who may find it useful. Dad said that someone is him. The first weekend after that, dad called me to help him, as usual, while carrying a shoe box filled with assorted old parts of various broken equipments. I could recognize diodes, LEDs, small batteries and knew how to solder parts together when dad asked me to. "What are we going to do with these dad?" I asked him and he said "I will teach you how to make a radio with the TV antenna," he said. "How?" I asked. "We'll figure it out", he replied. I still remember the joy when the crude radio came to life and we heard some gibberish. The quality of the speaker we attached was pathetic and we strained our ears to understand the message. Finally we could hear "Vivid Bharati…" and we punched the air. I never had to make radios in my life, but that experience was priceless.<br /><br />That was not a lone incident; there were so many interesting problems to solve. Mom and dad left for work at 8 in the morning and used to come back at 6 in the evening. Water supply happened bang in the middle of the day, and mom always struggled to ensure that we had enough water. Her solution was simple. Open the tap just a little, little enough to fill the big plastic tub but it always failed and invariably the kitchen was flooded. Dad came to her rescue and both of us did a whole series of things that year to solve the water problem. We built a big water tank in the kitchen with bricks and cement. Then we figured a way to ensure that the tank never overflowed and flooded the kitchen. We could have just hired a person to fill water for us when we were not there but dad wanted to solve the problem himself, it was like a brain teaser for him. And the time me and my brother spent with my dad during all this is one of the best memories of childhood we have. I never had a need to build cement water tanks or device a complicated mechanism to fill water but the lesson my dad taught of being willing to think differently and find solutions within the constraints is most precious.<br /><br />Happy belated Father’s Day dad. Don’t know if that’s what you say on Father’s day but you get the message right?<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-1719141766166868551?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-14760645059940449992009-06-20T04:21:00.000-07:002010-05-23T09:50:33.605-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SjTPmihv2aI/AAAAAAAADPA/KLDstWx_mVo/s1600-h/chachaji.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SjTPmihv2aI/AAAAAAAADPA/KLDstWx_mVo/s200/chachaji.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347126918605953442" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">(Picture: Nikita and her chachaji)</span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Been to Delhi/Gurgaon last weekend. The first time I went to Delhi was when I was 12 and I have gone there many times after that. The city is special because every single time I have been there, I was there alone, without family. I explored the city on my own during my numerous visits and made some really good friends. I got the taste and got hooked on to traveling alone (once a while) because of Delhi.<br /><br />This time around, I went there on a business trip with Nikita and Ajitha, friends of mine from work. We had one evening for ourselves and usually I head to shop a bit, but this time I decided to give it a skip and tag along with Nikita to meet her uncle and I am super glad that I made that choice. I also realized during this trip that Nikita has the most interesting group of friends. Every time she talks about some friend of hers, I am amazed at what they ended up doing in life. One is a popular Korean movie star, another an upcoming professional magician, for a sample. People who led a normal simple childhood along with her but decided to pursue their dreams and (this is the more important thing) found success.<br /><br />Nikita's uncle is one of the most interesting people I met in my life. He retired from the Indian Navy some 15 years ago and was third in command during that time. The place where we met him was quite interesting. The Navy club (that's not what it is called but I don't remember the exact name now. Its basically a club for the Navy officers). The restricted access to that place makes it even more interesting for me. I have never really been to a place that has exclusive access to the defense forces personnel before and it was as gorgeous as I had expected it to be complete with well maintained formal looking building, high ceilings and leather furniture and waiters who have obviously been working for many many years in the same place. We did not get to see a lot of hot Navy guys in their dazzling white uniforms as we were quickly escorted to the bar, but the ambiance of the place and the company made up for it.<br /><br />Then enters this man, lean, neatly combed silky gray hair and a brilliant smile. Very charming with his impeccable manners and witty talk. He lead an exotic life in Navy like most people I know from the defense background, dated a girl in Russia who turned out to be a spy, did things in his personal life that even our generation would hesitate to do, obviously lives his life the way he wants to and owns a company that is into work that makes me feel so envious. The real fun is in giving more details but I don't think I have the right to divulge into specifics about someone else's life on a public blog. I had one of the most entertaining conversations ever and some excellent wine (Ajitha enjoyed the wine the most I guess :P). Thanks Nikita! and chachaji, I wish when I am your age, I can say I am as happy and content in life as you are!<br /></div><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-1476064505994044999?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-8365118976665667732009-05-31T09:21:00.000-07:002011-01-02T09:32:29.496-08:00It was a Sunday and must have been 6.30 or 7 in the morning. I usually sleep in the drawing room and the room has an attached balcony. Since the balcony is east facing, the room gets quite bright very early. While my eyes try to adjust to the brilliant sunlight falling straight on my face, I notice my entire family is sleeping in the drawing room that day. I am surprised because that never happened before. I turn my head and am even more surprised to see a huge new white cupboard. That was not there when I went to sleep the previous night. I am trying to figure out what is happening when I hear a deep throated rumble from the new cupboard. I run to my dad screaming “daddy…there is a monster in that new cupboard”. Dad laughs and says “haha that’s a fridge we bought for the house. It got delivered late last night when you were sleeping tight. I knew you would get scared by the noise when you wake up, so we decided to sleep here tonight.” I had no clue what a fridge meant. Never heard of it before and never seen one. Did not understand why we bought it, but I was so relieved that there is no monster inside, because going by what was going on around me, it was clear that I had to share my room with it. From that day onwards, the white Godrej refrigerator remained my roommate for the next 14 years with its thermostat singing lullaby to me every night.<br /><br />Dad remembered this incident when the new sofas that <a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://justkalpana.blogspot.com/2008/08/ranjit-my-hubby-boy.html">Ranjit</a> got for my brother and his new bride got delivered today and we all had a good laugh. I felt like capturing the memory of my roomie on my site.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-836511897666566773?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-27576633460216833182009-05-25T08:45:00.000-07:002010-05-23T09:50:33.609-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/Shq9WkwD5lI/AAAAAAAADNA/dfeqyGYY7jE/s1600-h/IMG_2191.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 180px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/Shq9WkwD5lI/AAAAAAAADNA/dfeqyGYY7jE/s200/IMG_2191.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339788503721174610" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(Picture: I remembered this picture clicked about 4 years ago while writing this post. Google's first cricket match. Raunak and I watch while Ranjit umpires)</span><br /><br />Deccan Chargers won!! Last time around I spent 2-and-a-half thousand to watch them play live, and cursed for spending so much on a team that lost almost all matches. I was so upset that my first live match ever was turned out to be such a big flop. This time around, they are the champions! Last year when I said I watched them live, I was laughed at. Now when I say the same sentece, I am greeted with "Oh wow! Did you go to South Africa?"...and exactly at that point, I change the topic.<br /><br />I wish I watched more matches this time. Whatever one or two matches I watched to give Ranjit company, my mind was distracted by the contest of predict the outcome of the six balls by sending an SMS (premium rates apply) and win prizes. That is betting!! and betting is illegal in India. Ranjit was interested in the match and not in discussing if this was indeed betting. Came to know today that it indeed is, and the sports ministry banned it. Glad that someone agrees with me. Wonder why the contest was merely banned, and the organizers not arrested.<br /><br />By the time it was time for the final, I was sufficiently charged up (thanks to Cyrus, who works with me, I must say, who prodded me to give up my ice cream that I was having in a quiet joint and watch the match). By the time I was home, Bangalore started batting and exactly 5 mins later, the power was cut for the next one-and-a-half hours and I came to know that Hyderabad Chargers won when I saw spectacular fireworks in the sky suddenly. Raghav's (who also works with me) status messages were like running commentary. He finally confirmed that Chargers won and I can now finally jump and scream. So that was IPL for me. I plan to do a better job next time. This sounds like a fun series to watch<span style="font-weight: bold;">. </span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-2757663346021683318?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-72516512177041781492009-05-14T09:52:00.000-07:002010-05-23T09:50:33.611-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SgxU38qir0I/AAAAAAAADM4/8i_IHXqOn08/s1600-h/DSC01931-1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 152px; height: 166px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SgxU38qir0I/AAAAAAAADM4/8i_IHXqOn08/s200/DSC01931-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335732978681294658" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">(Picture: A drunk person asking a drunk person to click the pic of the drunk person and this is the result...)</span><br /><br />It has been a while that I did something crazy. That something needs to be something I never did before, tests my limits and makes a few people say "you are crazy". I was out of ideas until now, but suddenly I knew what I wanted to do -- cycle to work one of the days.<br /><br />Why is it a big deal? 1) My place is a good 30 Km from Google 2) My stamina currently is the lowest in many years, and I will have to hit the gym regularly, and train for this real hard 3) The unruly Hyderabad traffic can kill me 4) My family will never allow me to do this because of point #3, which means I will have to sneak out and do this secretly (no one from home reads my blog so if you keep it a secret, it will remain that way)<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-7251651217704178149?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-79536342160195171152009-05-03T09:55:00.000-07:002011-01-02T09:33:44.997-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/Sf3YiJ7LuuI/AAAAAAAADMs/cCdmt6wfaEU/s1600-h/IMG00071-1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/Sf3YiJ7LuuI/AAAAAAAADMs/cCdmt6wfaEU/s200/IMG00071-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331655615167838946" border="0" /></a><br />(A picture of you eating with chopsticks at 'Aromas of China')<br /><br />I have been <a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://justkalpana.blogspot.com/2009/04/dear-ranak-learning-to-be-independent.html">teaching you to eat with your hand</a> for a few days now, and today, I started teaching you to eat with chopsticks. You already eat comfortably with a knife (or spoon) and a fork. To my surprise, you found eating with chopsticks easier than eating with your hands. Of course the chopsticks were bound with a rubber band on the end so they don't slip out of your hand but still it was quite tough for me to pick up anything from my plate. I feel embarrassed to try to eat with chopsticks now, but you don't have any inhibitions yet so I guess you found it easy to pickup whatever you can with the sticks and the rest with your hands, fork, and some directly with your mouth. By the end of the meal, you were using chopsticks quite well. I am super impressed. It is a complex task and you are able to learn it well.<br /><br />On a related note, I don't want you to grow up, read these posts, and think that I am this obsessed mom who tortured you to do so many different things. I just want to give you maximum exposure. Yes I test your limits, I push them at times, but that doesn't mean I force you. If you are not interested in doing something you need not do it. I respect your choice.<br /><br />You are just such a great sport every time I introduce something new that I don't feel like being a passive parent and see you learn things on a need basis. We are a great team, not just now but even before you were born.<br /><br />During one of my last scans when I was expecting you, the doctor told me that she is going to show me your face if you are in the right position. All through the way to the clinic, I kept wishing that you don't stay like a doll, but do something. Anything. I just wanted to see a baby that looked alive and moving. The doctor prepared for the scan,and when the computer screen started showing the images, I could see your face. That one image will be one of the strongest memories of you as an infant. You opened your big eyes, moved your lips and suddenly stuck your tongue out (not kidding. I have the video! Will show you when you are big enough). Your eyes were not focusing on anything (obviously!) but you opening your eyes and making a funny face was the first time we became a great team. If want you to do something, you exceed all my expectations :) Won't stress you out with ridiculous expectations but want to give you credit for the great sport you are all the time. Enjoy your life buddy, and teach me how to eat with those freaking chopsticks when you have sometime.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-7953634216019517115?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-18321872464134878102009-04-29T02:49:00.001-07:002010-05-23T09:50:33.614-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SfgmGcXlDcI/AAAAAAAADMk/YUmelrutQiI/s1600-h/Picture+033-2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 180px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SfgmGcXlDcI/AAAAAAAADMk/YUmelrutQiI/s200/Picture+033-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330052051129142722" border="0" /></a><br />Ranjit and I were enjoying a pleasant breeze last night in our balcony when I told him I am very worried about my health. I have been having series of minor issues of late and it started bothering me. A nagging feeling that there is some serious root cause that is triggering these symptoms. I expected sympathy from him and concern but his face was calm. All he said was "nothing will happen to you because you are covered under my mother's prayers". Some words are said with such conviction that it is not possible to utter a word, even say, "That's so true".<br /><br />Went for a general medical checkup last week, and got my reports today. Everything is normal.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-1832187246413487810?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-60068603635034705972009-04-26T08:25:00.000-07:002010-05-23T09:50:33.615-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SfSVUYVGT-I/AAAAAAAADMY/OxBIP3wFOFk/s1600-h/DSC00728-1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 153px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SfSVUYVGT-I/AAAAAAAADMY/OxBIP3wFOFk/s320/DSC00728-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329048436447006690" border="0" /></a><br />(Picture: A random picture in some club I don't remember)<br /><br />The last few days were exciting. I voted! My first vote ever! No I am not lying about my age. I could not vote the last two times as my name was missing from the voters list. It got fixed this time around and I got to vote!<br /><br />But...I did not get my fill of understanding democracy, public work, politics and elections. So, when Ranjit and I attended our general body meeting of our apartment to elect the new body, Ranjit asked me if I wanted to contest! I was surprised he asked this question. I mean, I was the only woman attending these meetings, I was the quietest usually, and somehow, I did not expect him to suggest it. I first laughed and when I looked at Ranjit again, I had to do a double take. He was serious!<br /><br />But it was too late by then anyway. The new body was chosen and everyone was clapping. Thats when something possessed me and I raised my hand and asked "What is the difference between all these roles?" Answer: SILENCE because apparently, no one knows. Someone finally stood up and said "there is no specific responsibility. These are honorary roles and everyone works for the society. Anyone can hold these posts. You can be the general secretary if you want to" and I almost immediately said "yes. I'd like to contest" a split second later realized that the voting was complete and that statement was moot. But the group immediately said "great, then welcome the new general secretary of the association". That’s it. No elections. No voting. I am telling myself (and others) I was unanimously elected.<br /><br />:) This is going to be fun! My first project: getting the building painted. Expected cost: 2 1/2 lakhs. Work to be done: Raise funds, call tenders, etc....and a tiny voice in my head says, "Why the heck am I doing all this?”<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-6006860363503470597?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-52908717446241954332009-04-19T19:47:00.001-07:002010-05-23T09:50:33.617-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SfCeEfDfcCI/AAAAAAAADMA/MTQBd82vJYE/s1600-h/bananaleaf.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 224px; height: 161px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SfCeEfDfcCI/AAAAAAAADMA/MTQBd82vJYE/s320/bananaleaf.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327932159072104482" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />(Picture (is not mine): This is how the meal I wrote about in this post looks like)</span><br /><br />Ranjit, my husband, both looks forward to and gets flustered when we attend Brahmin weddings and it is time for meals. There are so many guidelines to follow and he is always confused about them. The one question that he asks repeatedly is, "Can I eat now?" and I explain patiently why he cannot. <p>My memories of every family gathering are dominated by the lunches and dinners I have had with my cousins, aunts and uncles. I was trained thoroughly to eat the right way, serve, and to a tiny extent, cook, and I learnt them enthusiastically. My previous post made me think of writing about the 'rules' of eating that I grew up learning and following. So here goes.<br /></p><p>Unlike the general myth that a typical Brahmin meal is simple, it is very rich. You will have to see the spread to believe it. Traditionally, the meal is served on banana leaves, and is to be had sitting on the floor. Men and children eat first, and women later but this is not practiced much these days.</p><p>The meal typically starts with a sweet dish served on the bottom right of the leaf. The serving is tiny, most of the times just a spoonful. That is because it is served again towards the end. Then comes a few spoonfuls of spiced rice (tamarind rice/lemon rice/coconut rice/etc), a small serving of pickle, two curries (usually one boiled, fried lightly in little oil and garnished with coconut and the other invariably some curried form of brinjal), dal with mild flavors and very little seasoning, a fried vegetable suitably rationed (beats me how the tasty items are served less and the less tasty ones in abundance). The side dishes are all served on the upper side of the leaf, away from the person patiently waiting to start his meal. Then come appadams (or papad), salt served in the left corner away from everything else on the leaf and finally it is time for rice. The steaming hot rice in brought in a big plate (not in a vessel) and is served, again appropriately rationed. The sambar is next to be served and then ghee makes its appearance. The completely nutritious meal suddenly changes its colors with ghee. Spoon fulls are served generously on the sweet dish, dal, rice and sambar. People usually ask for additional servings completely undoing the healthy aspect of the food, but I don't blame them. The temptation of adding ghee is the most difficult to resist. </p><p>By this time, Ranjit would have asked me some 20 times if he can eat the food, but no, we can't eat yet. We wait for the eldest man in the group to start the holy ritual of chants and circle the right palm with water around his banana leaf symbolizing offering the food to the Gods which turns it into naivedyam (food offered to Gods). The elder then tastes a small portion and the rest of the group almost pounces to start with their favorite item. Rasam is served next and a second round of all the items make appearance. Finally it is time for curd rice which marks the end of the meal.<br /></p><p> The water that is served needs to be away from the food, the person himself should not touch the banana leaf except with his right hand. There are a lot of liquids that will be served (like rasam, payasam, sambar, curd) and none should leak out of the leaf. The salt should not be served directly into rice or any other side dishes. The spoons with which the food items are being served should not touch the leaf or the food in it. Curds, pickle, and ghee should be kept away from the rest of the items in the kitchen. Every time a person touches the vessel with curd, he/she should wash his/her hand with a little water. This is to avoid any kind of contaminated contact between the food that perishes in a few hours and food that lasts longer. Eating curds at the end of the meal is a must and will attract uncomfortable stares if avoided. Once done, the leaf needs to be folded with the open end facing away from the person eating the food.The entire group waits until the eldest finish their meal and everyone gets up at the same time to wash their hands.<br /></p><p>Any violation of the above guidelines, even if it is because of ignorance is glared upon. It's not a relaxing experience to eat amidst all this, especially if you happen to be someone not very familiar with the process, but the tasty food makes up for it. What goes unnoticed, even by me at times, is the underlying philosophy of respecting elders, maintaining cleanliness, and eating healthy.<br /></p>God! How I crave for such meals!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-5290871744624195433?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-12057515325233553612009-04-19T06:59:00.000-07:002011-01-02T09:33:44.999-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SesvaUN9u_I/AAAAAAAADLg/w9XexsNHCjY/s1600-h/P6010001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 167px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SesvaUN9u_I/AAAAAAAADLg/w9XexsNHCjY/s320/P6010001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326403113446128626" border="0" /></a><br />(Picture: Your grand mothers vying to feed you)<br /><br />Today I started teaching you to eat the Indian way -- sitting on the floor and eating with your right hand. 5 minutes into the lesson, I realized it is way too difficult than what I initially thought it would be. First, you are a pampered spoilt brat. You should have learnt to eat on your own by this age (you are 5 btw), but you are used to being fed while you watch cartoons, and I am paying for those sins now. Second, you being left handed didn’t help either. Here is an account of your first class of ‘eating independently’. The more I do things like these, the more I appreciate my mom.<br /><br />I had to first find a spot that was interesting enough but not distracting. I had a couple of options but decided to stick to the tradition – eat in the kitchen or in the dining area. When I was a kid, we did not have a dining table. The entire family would sit on the floor in the hall after moving the furniture and have our meals. I come from a community that is a little particular about rules, especially eating habits. There are specific places for specific kinds of food and various items need to be served and eaten in a certain order. Since you have mixed blood, your upbringing is different. I will teach you my ways anyway, even though you may not follow them. Nothing wrong in understanding your family better.<br /><br />Now back to your class. Once I zeroed in on the place, the next step was to teach you the technique. Sit cross legged and keep the plate close to you (but not touching your body). Mix the curry and rice with the tips of your fingers, wrap all 5 finger tips around a morsel of rice and take them up to your mouth. Bend and meet the hand midway to your mouth, bring your hand back to the plate and get the next morsel ready while you chew your food silently and thoroughly. Simple, but apparently not for you.<br /><br />You first found your fingers getting dirty quite disgusting and kept rubbing them against your shirt and when that got dirty, you used my dress. At every step in the process I explained above, your left hand would rush to rescue the right. Eating with left hand is strictly forbidden and you are a strong left handed boy. I had to hold your left hand down throughout the time. This had some unexpected results. When you realized that your right hand is not as equipped as your left to handle complex tasks, you decided to give your hands some rest and dug your face into the plate and eat directly. Obviously, your face was a mess and needed to be cleaned. You chose the easy way of shaking it vigorously thus throwing food on everything within 1 meter radius of your head. I had to end the session, give you a bath, clean up the room, wash my clothes as well as yours, and feed you while you watched cartoons.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-1205751532523355361?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-92191332572552680472009-04-09T09:59:00.000-07:002010-05-23T09:50:33.621-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/Sd4rZXs-euI/AAAAAAAADLQ/AGO0TVMSOwY/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 180px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/Sd4rZXs-euI/AAAAAAAADLQ/AGO0TVMSOwY/s320/untitled.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322739524457888482" border="0" /></a><br />( This picture belongs to toonpool.com)<br /><br />I and my husband were watching an election campaign procession accompanied by the local folk music go past our apartment. The leader in dazzling white stiffly starched khadi kurta pyjama with a bright party scarf around his neck walked from house to house with folded hands. I could not hear what he was saying and that is when a crazy thought struck me. I wanted to be a part of that procession and listen to what that guy was saying, know who the guys who so passionately shout the slogans are and what the party is doing to get votes.<br /><br />Step 1: tell my husband. Step 2…there is no Step 2. It is arranged. “Be prepared for some uncomfortable stares, and be careful,” was what I was told.<br /><br />I got to sit in the back seat of a car that is part of a similar procession along with the lady who was campaigning. I met her before, so it was quite easy to strike a conversation. The people shouting slogans are a part of…ummm…an equivalent of an event management group that gets paid and also expects favors if the party wins. Almost all of them are unemployed and get a kick out of a rare opportunity of being perceived as important people.<br /><br />The plan: go from door to door, talk about the problems that the household faces and promise to fix them if they vote for the party, and also write down the complaint in front of them so they know that the party is taking it seriously. Avoid the educated families as they ask too many questions, and anyway, we can’t rely on their promise of support. This is what the…ummm…event manager told the group. I was introduced as the prospective MLA's friend so I was considered the ‘insider’ so I was the part of the core group who were getting updated on a lot of things.<br /><br />The problems that people spoke about were also quite amusing. There seemed to be 3 categories of issues that people stuck with. 1) I don’t trust you because others before you never solved any of our problems. Examples: Pot holes on the road in front of their house, the transformer that needs to be moved as it is too close to the homes. 2) If you are so sincere, prove that you can solve our problems. Examples: My daughter needs to get married next week and I don’t have money, I need money to pay my son’s exam fee. 3) I will help you by voting for you if you help me. Examples: I want to construct another floor but the municipality is not allowing me to do it without paying a registration fee. Can you help? (=I want to construct the floor illegally. Help me), I need an extra tap connection. I am willing to pay you (=illegal water connection). What was going on here was that both the politician and the people were vying with each other about who had lower morals. Reminds me of a friend who once told me, “The country gets a government it deserves”.<br /><br />All the problems are religiously noted in the book, and all promises duly made. It was finally time for me to go home and we stepped out of the car decked up with party memorabilia. The leader of the procession got into her car and headed home, while I waited for my husband to pick me up. As it was hot, I sat in the car and waited. Just when it was time for me to get down and get into my car, I noticed that the book with the notes was ‘forgotten’. I picked it up. That was my prize for staying put till the end. Until then, I have only heard that the politicians forget their promises but now, I <span style="font-style: italic;">know</span> they do. I have evidence to prove it :-)<br /><img src="file:///C:/DOCUME~1/kalpana/LOCALS~1/Temp/moz-screenshot-2.jpg" alt="" /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-9219133257255268047?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-6724290641489522932009-04-05T08:22:00.000-07:002010-06-13T08:36:38.673-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SdjNO4tMoPI/AAAAAAAADKw/EhxxVYm5jUM/s1600-h/9780330450546.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 196px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SdjNO4tMoPI/AAAAAAAADKw/EhxxVYm5jUM/s200/9780330450546.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321228615362060530" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Between The Assassinations is a perfect book to read during a journey. Aravind is not just a writer. He is a talented writer. His book reminded me so much of Malgudi Days by RK Narayan. Narayan seems to be an inspiration and a strong influence, but the author managed to keep his originality intact.<br /><br />I loved the narrative. Unlike many other books by Indian authors where I felt the book was written to be sold as an international best seller, this book is by an Indian to an Indian. If you love India and its people, you will like this book. He touches all the sore spots of our culture but makes us feel like "this is how we are and there is nothing good or bad about it".<br /><br />The stories are gripping, fast paced and always end up making you relate strongly to the situations and the characters. If RK Narayan's stories are all about beliefs and innocence of the pre-independence era, this book is about today's society.<br /><br />The stories collectively are quite disjoint but you won't feel it because of the strong theme of the town in the background. This is precisely why this is a great read for a journey. Even if you leave reading in the middle, you are not left biting your nails to complete the book and when you return to read the rest, you don't feel like you forgot where you left the story.<br /><br />I categorize this book as a 'must read'. I have the book with me, but I promised to lend it to a friend to read. As always, if you know me personally, drop me an email and I will happily lend you the book.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-672429064148952293?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-55313623714404182762009-03-03T21:37:00.000-08:002011-01-02T09:33:16.481-08:00Video post in chronological order. Staring:<span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br />The Bloggers: <a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://serendipityinperspective.blogspot.com/">Uma</a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">...</span><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://nerdybirders.com/">Ashok</a></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">...</span></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://serendipityinperspective.blogspot.com/">Sasidhar</a></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">...</span></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://weltview.blogspot.com/">Kiran</a></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">...</span></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://blog.achilles-punks.com/">Kannan</a></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">...</span></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://chicken-and-egg-stories.blogspot.com/">Shyam</a></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">...</span></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://addle-head.blogspot.com/">Krishna</a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">...<a href="http://dsanthanam.blogspot.com/2006_07_16_archive.html">Darshini</a></span><br /><br />The Non-Bloggers: </span><span style="font-size:85%;">Jamsheed...Ranjit...Lakshmi<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />Neither Bloggers nor Non-Bloggers: <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"> </span><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://justkalpana.googlepages.com/ruksha">Ruksha</a></span><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Guzzlers -- Saturday Evening</span><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-8b6d780c3b9eed85" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v7.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D8b6d780c3b9eed85%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331250780%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D8F9856EAF5CD055A5EA0F0F400811C289E0F4A9.6CDD9BBAB730A3022F29211BB97B23B4807429EA%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D8b6d780c3b9eed85%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DTTSzznl12PyLdF-qWf25COCvMDg&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v7.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D8b6d780c3b9eed85%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331250780%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D8F9856EAF5CD055A5EA0F0F400811C289E0F4A9.6CDD9BBAB730A3022F29211BB97B23B4807429EA%26key%3Dck1&iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D8b6d780c3b9eed85%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DTTSzznl12PyLdF-qWf25COCvMDg&autoplay=0&ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /></object><br /><br /><br />Ruksha's B'day -- Saturday Night<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-4f8f610a82299c86" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D4f8f610a82299c86%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331250780%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2C912157ABA1E69B774BCA07BA9C078E8934C8CC.5EB5FAF72EE0AC921F18AFF2F057476D26A64CF7%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D4f8f610a82299c86%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DQmnTG_f5yXvCozwpZPGYxen2IC0&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D4f8f610a82299c86%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331250780%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2C912157ABA1E69B774BCA07BA9C078E8934C8CC.5EB5FAF72EE0AC921F18AFF2F057476D26A64CF7%26key%3Dck1&iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D4f8f610a82299c86%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DQmnTG_f5yXvCozwpZPGYxen2IC0&autoplay=0&ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /></object><br /><br /><br />Ashok's Wedding -- Sunday<br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-e72633a094da4eb4" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v17.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3De72633a094da4eb4%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331250780%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2A2B76F3921743F617204EEC16774D4BF455DEAC.356D55C9792201F8DCACC6E2AB3279F11B63667%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De72633a094da4eb4%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DgVuUaU3z4jKUuoMVKpOZbOk2iiA&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v17.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3De72633a094da4eb4%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331250780%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2A2B76F3921743F617204EEC16774D4BF455DEAC.356D55C9792201F8DCACC6E2AB3279F11B63667%26key%3Dck1&iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De72633a094da4eb4%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DgVuUaU3z4jKUuoMVKpOZbOk2iiA&autoplay=0&ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /></object><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Picasa link to the videos is <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/album/aWAxVvsmjnm4g4aSX-iAdtdMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0#">here</a>. Leaving this link as the font size of the text in videos is rather small and I am lazy to edit the videos and upload them again.<br /></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-5531362371440418276?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-2159383110246655362009-02-25T20:50:00.000-08:002011-01-02T09:32:29.498-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SaYkfV8GKkI/AAAAAAAADFk/FwXsUWOHkCk/s1600-h/kaushik.bmp"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SaYkfV8GKkI/AAAAAAAADFk/FwXsUWOHkCk/s320/kaushik.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306969331786459714" border="0" /></a><meta name="GENERATOR" content="OpenOffice.org 3.0 (Win32)"><style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } --> </style> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><meta equiv="CONTENT-TYPE" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><title></title><meta name="GENERATOR" content="OpenOffice.org 3.0 (Win32)"><style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } A:link { so-language: zxx } --> </style> </p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">But who is Kaushik? Kaushik is my best friend. Umm...How do I describe him? If you meet him for the first time, you probably won't notice him. If you meet him again, you probably wont understand what he is saying. If you meet him yet again (and at this point, I am wondering why would anyone do that), you would think he is boring. If you happen (just in case) to meet him once again, you probably wont remember that you already met him before.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Kaushik is the run-of-the-mill professional like a lot of run-of-the-mill professionals we know. Like many people with limited social life during the growing up years (like me), he reads a lot of books, and when I say a lot of them, I mean a lot of them (most of them are my recommendations). Like people with no major talent but with illusions that they are good (like me), <a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://kaushik578.blogspot.com/">he blogs</a>. But unlike me who writes because I take my blogging seriously, he blogs because he takes his writing seriously. </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">He is a whacko (like me) and does random things in life like training for and<a href="http://runningmyselfin.blogspot.com/"> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">completing a 25k </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">marathon</span></a> for the heck of it (while being the least fit and sportsy person I know of in my entire circle).</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">He loves budget travel (like me). But unlike me, he treats travel like the way one should treat it. The journey is as important as the destination for him. He is a certified biker (without a certificate) with many hundreads of kms of travel under his belt. The more remote and virgin the place to be visited, the better. </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">You get the picture right? Kaushik is someone who has always imitated me, but he has a lot more time on his hand to take the imitated actions to the next level. So if you think he is even remotely cool, I take all the credit for it.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">So, Kaushik is getting married. And I was wondering what wedding gift should I give him. After a lot of thought, I decided to surprise him...surprise him by posting<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"> </span><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://justkalpana.googlepages.com/kaushik%27sweddinginvite">his invitation</a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"> </span>that he sent to 60Kmph, his biking club, on Internet and invite the entire world for a wedding that he wanted to keep as a 'private affair' where only 10 guests are invited (still not sure if that includes just me or me and Ranjit...err wait! Am I invited? I received an invite, but now when I think of it, he asked me to proofread it and not exactly said “come to the wedding. You can eat lunch for free”). Kaushik, I deserve a free lunch. You can't deny it after reading this post! I demand to be invited to your wedding. I am your guru after all!! </p> <p></p> <br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-215938311024665536?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-3321269242859996502009-01-31T08:43:00.000-08:002011-01-02T09:34:45.851-08:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SYSKMHMZbvI/AAAAAAAAC2U/iW0E85ZQdRE/s1600-h/_45401035_slumposterap466.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297511002388655858" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 194px;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SYSKMHMZbvI/AAAAAAAAC2U/iW0E85ZQdRE/s320/_45401035_slumposterap466.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>A friend of mine let me watch a few minutes of the movie on her laptop other day. I must have watched some 20-25 mins of the movie and that was enough to make me decide I am not going to watch the rest. I am totally for showing the reality of India as it is through movies, and the lives and living conditions of people with limited means is very much a part of it. There are two ways this side of India is projected through art (be it paintings, books or cinema). One is to use it as a powerful background for the subject, and the other is to show it in a way that makes the jaws of the foreigners drop. There is something very sadistic in the later approach and Slumdog personifies it.<br /><br />All the scenes that I have seen are very real. That is exactly how the slums are, and the lifestyle depicted is pretty accurate too, but the way it has been shot makes me feel quite angry. I am not suggesting we should hide our reality under our carpets. We should not, but I surely will advocate for a more delicate treatment -- one that blends well with the story and retains the realistic representation of lives of the poor. Slumdog is not there for me. There are many more movies out there that did a fantastic job of giving the right treatment for this subject. One movie that scored a 10 on 10 for me is a South African movie called '<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iJEPVTPiqAg"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Tsotsi</span>'</a>. Tsotsi is a slum movie too, but the background gives the movie a character that Slumdog could not manage. </div><div><br />I would have reluctantly given my nod for Slumdog Millionaire if the intension of making this movie was to raise funds for NGOs working for slums in India, but this is a commercial movie which in my mind translates to "come, buy the ticket to watch the 'poor India' and be amazed at how poor it is. You will love what you will see." No offense meant -- a lot of hard work and research must have gone into making this movie, but sorry, I have seen better ones than this. Watch Satyajit Ray or Amol Palekar moives, and you will know what I am saying.</div><div></div><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-332126924285999650?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-31148209431405688862009-01-22T08:16:00.002-08:002010-06-15T08:11:09.632-07:00This cartoon stars my brother-in-law who wanted to spend time with Raunak making pizzas one weekend. He doesn't know what happened after he left :)<div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAJu5ZObFhI/AAAAAAAAE0s/2Vz945bJvPY/s1600/Oven.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 262px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAJu5ZObFhI/AAAAAAAAE0s/2Vz945bJvPY/s320/Oven.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477062029138925074" /></a></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-3114820943140568886?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-92150297937907676162009-01-16T06:37:00.001-08:002010-06-15T08:11:09.635-07:00<div>Raunak must have noticed people describe others and attempted to do it himself with amusing results.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAJxBKkpm1I/AAAAAAAAE04/5sOuDWdOsrA/s1600/Friends.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 262px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/TAJxBKkpm1I/AAAAAAAAE04/5sOuDWdOsrA/s320/Friends.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477064361667828562" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-9215029793790767616?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-28567589757820465512008-12-29T01:56:00.000-08:002010-06-13T08:36:38.675-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SVx9h6z7USI/AAAAAAAACtg/IlADlhew5NM/s1600-h/5ps.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 132px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SVx9h6z7USI/AAAAAAAACtg/IlADlhew5NM/s200/5ps.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286238084302328098" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Chetan Bhagat's 'Five Point Someone' is about the life of 3 students of IIT. What sets them apart is their mediocre grades, their tendency to surrender to the temptation of trying risky shortcuts to succeed and their common hatred for the strict IIT system of education. If you are someone who hated your college (like me), you will enjoy this book even more. Ryan is the brain behind most of the escapades and Alok and Hari blindly follow him. The plot starts with simple mischief like drinking Vodka on the roof of the college building and reaches a crescendo when the three try to steal the question papers from the office of Prof Cherian, head of Mechanics dept and get caught red handed. To complicate things further, Prof Cherian happens to be Hari's girlfriend's dad. While the adventures of these IITians itself makes the book quite interesting to read, Hari's romance with Neha adds color to the plot. Hari's very honest 'boy' thinking while he is with Neha is brilliantly written. The writing is very informal and it feels as if you are reading a nice blog. If you want to know how Chetan Bhagat looks like, ask <a href="http://freedomunlimitedjessie.blogspot.com/">Jessie</a> ;)<br /><br />Posting from my Blackberry so pardon spelling mistakes, unless I do something like mis-spell the title of the book. Thanks Nags :)<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-2856758975782046551?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956201913403786462.post-10456016528513896882008-12-22T20:39:00.001-08:002010-05-23T09:50:33.641-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SVB0NtmmgEI/AAAAAAAACqo/I2RinXuf4kg/s1600-h/latke.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 196px; height: 146px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYO1CFSXmxE/SVB0NtmmgEI/AAAAAAAACqo/I2RinXuf4kg/s320/latke.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282850141834215490" border="0" /></a>(Picture: My last night's Jewish dinner)<br /><br />I have an academic interest in a couple of religions and Judaism happens to be one of them (I feel I overuse the phrase 'academic interest', but I can't think of another phrase that means the same). It is a lot of fun reading up about the philosophy, theology and understand the religious beliefs and rituals. The 8 day festival of <a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hanukkah">Hanukkah</a> started yesterday, and this time, I wanted to go a step ahead from reading about it to <span style="font-style: italic;">experiencing</span> it. I tried finding a Jewish community in Hyderabad without much success, so the next best thing I thought I could do was to cook a Jewish Hanukkah meal. And I did! Well not exactly a 'meal' but I made one of the traditional dishes.<br /><br />Even though it is <a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Passover">Passover</a> thing, I tried to get a <a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://nj006.urj.net/seder/plate.html">Seder plate</a> together just for fun for lunch (inspiration: <a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://gknearbombay.blogspot.com/2007/04/passover-in-india.html">Greg Kaye</a> who's blog I discovered randomly, and found that we work for the same company, and he is friends with some of my good friends, and not just that, one of the links on his site point to a video I edited and uploaded on Google Videos! Talk about coincidence). Could not do it because of my busy schedule yesterday. But I made <a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://joi.org/celebrate/hanuk/food.shtml">traditional Hanukkah Potato Latkes</a><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">for dinner!</span></span> I clicked a snap of it and uploaded it with this post. <a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" href="http://www.cookingandme.com/">Nags</a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">,</span> realized that food photography is not easy! Your pictures are brilliant!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1956201913403786462-1045601652851389688?l=www.justkalpana.com' alt='' /></div>Kalpana Behranoreply@blogger.com