Manali Trip

I’m just back from vacationing in Manali with my husband Jayanth, and friends Sandya and Karthik.

To say the least, Manali was:

M-Marvelous
A-Awesome
N-Nascent
A-Amazing
L-Lovely
I-Incredible

Even after a tedious 16-hour road journey from Delhi to Manali in a rickety Volvo, the fresh air, and picturesque scenes captivated us instantly and left us with an exhilarated feeling. Manali was freezing cold at 1 and 2 degrees centigrade, and at any given point, we all had a minimum of 3 layers of clothing.

We stayed at an adventure resort between Kullu and Manali on the banks of the Beas river. This place is nestled between snow capped mountains and apple orchards.

Day 1:

After settling-in at the resort, we decided to get the local feel by taking the public transport into the Manali town. We piled into a bus full of pretty/handsome faces (the pahadi people are truly a good-looking lot ;)) Pink babies were wrapped in bright woolens, pahadi tribals looked exotic with interesting jewellery and few really aged folks looked cute with their numerous wrinkles and curious eyes.

On reaching the town, our eyes first caught rows of fresh looking vegetables (must be something to do with them being grown on the hills and the fresh air). After a quick ‘chai’ at a hotel called ‘Hotel Yak’, we booked a cab and started our touristy sightseeing.

One of the first places we visited was the 16th century Hadimba Devi temple restored by Maharaja Bahadur Singh after the earlier temple was burnt down in a forest fire. The temple is also famous for being featured in the movie Roja. It’s a beautiful wooden temple with intricate engravings, surrounded by huge deodar trees.

Outside the temple, we got to hold the Angora Rabbit and sit on a Yak. Additionally, we got to wear the local pahadi dress, which is a colourful shawl like cloth that is draped over regular clothes and adorned with a headgear and jewellery for women, and a cap for the men. Karthik, who initially seemed a little embarrassed to get into these clothes and pose for the shutterbug, finally gave in to our incessant nags and obliged! And what a pretty picture Sandya and Karthik made!

It was lunchtime soon and a tired foursome gobbled delicious food at a dhaba and resumed our sightseeing.

Our next stop was at the Manu temple, built for the sage Manu. The paths leading to this temple are narrow and cobbled, flanked by rustic wooden houses on pillars. Old world charm intact!

After this, we drove back to the resort and spent a quiet chilly evening by the bonfire.

Day 2 :

Visit to Solang valley.

This was the day we were eagerly waiting for, as we would get to see, feel and play in the snow! The slopes here are used for national level skiing championships. They looked white against the blue sky and pretty surreal. Almost like a scenic picture from a calendar or a book.

At Solang, we trekked up a quiet slope and really let our hair down. We freaked out sliding down steep slopes yelling ‘Yahoo’ (reminiscent of Shammi Kapoor in Junglee!) numerous times. While Sandya was busy ‘lazing’ around in the snow, yes thats right, she was actually lying about in the snow like it was a water bed or something, Jayanth was busy trying to find higher ledges to climb up and slide from. And Karthik, (nicknamed as MK – short for Mobile Karthik, as the mobile phone refused to leave his ears) was actually busy focusing his camera lens on the mountains!

We ended this fulfilled tiring day around the bonfire with the local Himachal apple and rhododendron wine.

Day 3:

Trek to Shird Mountains

The Shird mountains are opposite the resort. The mountains are basically apple and plum orchards. We climbed up the steep mountain path, huffing and puffin a little as oxygen levels dropped with altitude. Still, it was an awesome experience. The apple trees were bare (because of the winter). Our trek guide, a local boy called Binu, showed me how to differentiate an apple tree from a plum tree. :D

From the top of this mountain, we got breathtaking views of the valley and the Beas river.

Like the previous day, in the evening, we sat around the bonfire rolling local wine on our tongues.

Day 4:

Downstream trek by the Beas

The Beas flowed by the side of the resort. With Binu (the local guide) in tow, we decided to explore the banks downstream. What started as a simple trek down the river bank, turned out to be superb river crossing experience. In some parts along the river stretch, there was no riverbank as the water was up to the brim, but not deep. At these spots, Jayanth and I (Sandya and Karthik preferred not to get into the water and stayed on the banks and clicked our pictures) waded through knee-deep water to dry parts of the riverbed.

The water was ice cold, and it was almost as if we were walking through massive ice cubes. We slipped many times on moss-ridden rocks, (Jayanth also dropped his camera and shoes, but the camera was saved because of the cover) and dodged deep spots by hopping on dry rocks. By the time we got out of the water, our legs were numb and paining because of the cold. I guess we were really chilled to the bone! In spite of this, it was a fabulous experience.

After this, we got back to the resort and feasted on makki–ki–roti and sarson-ka-saag.

In the evening, we boarded the Volvo to return to Delhi.

Despite the biting cold, Manali is a beautiful little place to relax and unwind. The cold itself is a different experience for us Southerners. We have come back with memories to last a lifetime and a few extra kilos from the delicious rich pahadi food.

C.H.A.N.G.E

"Change is inevitable. Change is constant." - Benjamin Disraeli

I realised this afternoon that so many things have changed in the past few months for me.

I changed my house for starters.

This was followed by a change/restructuring of teams at my workplace.

As if this was not enough, I moved to a new office building within the campus.

I was barely settling-in at my new work bay, when I was told that my present manager (who is really a wonderful manager and a human being!) is moving to another team, and that I'll have a new manager soon (sigh!!!).

And the latest is my changed hairstyle ;).

Too many changes to handle in a fortnight!

Addiction, Saturation & Rejuvination...

I'm unable to pin-point that one reason that kept me away from the blog scene for more than a year.

Writing and publishing posts and reading other blogs had almost become like switching channels on the TV. Addictive actually. And then, saturation. I guess I just lost if after that...

But hey, now I'm back! Completely recharged and motivated. I'm hoping to write and publish posts as often as I can. :)

And finally…Women’s Empowerment

The dawn of 25/10/2006 brought rays of hope to millions of domestic violence victims in India.

When I read the newspaper yesterday morning, I got goose bumps. And felt a heady mix of excitement and relief for fellow women folk of the country. The Domestic Violence Act 2005 has taken effect since yesterday, bringing unprecedented empowerment to Indian women and children.

http://www.ndtv.com/template/template.asp?category=National&template=womencrime&slug=Domestic+Violence+Act+comes+into+effect&id=95405&callid=1

India women now have the law on their side. And this, I’m sure is a morale boost for domestic violence victims to know that a new law protects them. (The Act covers women, be they wives, live-in partners, sisters, mothers, mothers-in-law or any other woman relation)

Three cheers to Renuka Chowdhary, Minister for Women and Child Development. She has been instrumental in fighting it out for this act. She says, “It's my Diwali gift to all you women out there".

Gandhigiri...

Aha! I've finally emerged from my hibernation! Its been a while since I've written thanks to a between- jobs- vacation and a bit of 'settling in' at the work place. :)

On another note, on the eve of Gandhi Jayanthi I cant help but retrospect on GANDHIGIRI, the brilliantly coined word by the makers of 'Lage Raho Munna Bhai'.

Yes, it seems to have become a movement.

While Gandhigiri definitely touches the core of Gandhism and our fellow countrymen seem to be taking a leaf or two out of the movie ( which is definitely a good sign), I cant help but wonder how long the Gandhigiri effect will last. The media hype and the strategic release of the movie planned a month before October 2nd are definitely driving home the point.

While Gandhigiri seems to have its effect on the common man, what about terrorists? Will terrorists actually reflect on Gandhigiri for even a second? Will it strike a chord somewhere deep within them? How many years will it take before people involved in acts of terror to realise that 'an eye for an eye and we all go blind'?

While I sincerely hope that Lage Raho Munna Bhai motivates the younger (and older) generations to search for Gandhian values within themselves I wonder if Gandhigiriwill still be a rage after a couple of months? Or will it just be forgotten, with people getting back to the routine of trying to outdo each other and terrorist activities galore.

This is something to wait and watch for.

'Crocodile Hunter' is no more

I was shocked at the news I just heard. Steve Irwin (croc hunter on animal planet channel) was killed by a Stingray while filming a documentary. http://www.rte.ie/arts/2006/0904/irwins.html

I have been following his shows for the last 8 years and his contribution to research on reptiles is unparalleled. The dare-devil that he was (cant believe I have to actually use past-tense) he never feared for his life and went to extremes during his wild encounters with snakes, crocs and other reptiles. His whole life was committed to animals, their research and spreading awareness. His unconditional commitment was apparent on his shows.

Incidentally, my first post on this blog called 'Fangs and Hisses' was about how Steve inspired me to do my bit at the Singapore Zoo.

My his soul rest in peace.

Break!!!

Off to my hometown - Bangalore, for a 2 week vacation! :)

Ganesh Chaturti

Tall Ganesh idols at every street corner.

Smiling elephant face with one broken tusk.

Colorful bulbs and decorations from the beginning of the street.

Children dressed up in their best – running about busily.

Bursts of music - children dancing to the beats.

Modaks and other sweets contributed generously by neighbors.

High spirits of young and old- gathered around pandals.

Games, dance competitions and music recitals all night long.

It’s a pleasure to see happy smiling faces and the festive spirit of people all around.

Happy Ganesh Chaturti.

Messages on Indian Highways

Ball -Type Chapati

I have to share this incident that happened at home with my 3yr old daughter. She was down with viral fever doing the rounds and I was struggling to get some food into her system. I gave her many safe choices (the bland, non oily variety that one eats when sick) and made them sound exotic and interesting. She listened to me quietly, without batting her eye lids. At the end of the menu narration, she softly purred that she wanted to eat 'poori'.

I was stunned! We hardly ever made poori at home, and as far as I know, she has never ever tasted 'poori'. I asked her what a 'poori' is? She said its ball-type chapati which is crisp on the top but nothing inside. I was pretty impressed at her imaginative description. I asked her if she had ever eaten one? She replied that her teacher aunty had given her 'poori' (she goes to school that serves snacks). SO there-I had got my answer! That's where my lil girl had got a taste of ball-type chapati!

Eager to get some food into her antibiotic filled system, I quickly made what she wanted. She happily munched on crisp pooris.

It amazes me how much children observe, retain information, relate them to something they are more familiar with and finally describe it in the correct context.

Small Acts

Yesterday was Raksha Bandhan. And in the true spirit of the festival my maid tied a Rakhi to our building watchman. In return, he gifted her Rs. 20. She was overjoyed. With the gift money she bought another Rakhi and chocolates for my daughter.

I was very touched. This small act proved that relationships are the essence of celebration.

Irrespective of caste, status, education and background.

An example by the so-called underprivileged and not-so-educated.

THE SHOE STINK KILLER

Sometimes, post lunch, I feel very content and lethargic after a good meal. The cold draft from the AC overhead, the tapping sound of keyboards and the ‘click’ of the mouse, faint voices from across the room, occasional murmuring from colleagues and the like add to the comfort zone as I get ready for another afternoon of work.

Surprisingly, the last few days though, things have been slightly different. There was something about the air around my desk. A distinct odor was floating around. I chose to overlook it for the first few days, and wandered around the office from time to time to breathe healthy. But then, predictably the strong whiff doubled. An invisible thing, so full of repulsive sensations that a man could suffocate and choke instantaneously. I turned my head away and rushed to the window to catch a breath of fresh air. Whew…what the hell was that!

Enough! I decided to find the culprit. From where is the stink emanating? Rather from whom…? I held my breath and looked under my desk. Hey! I spotted a pair of naked feet, comfy on the blue-grey carpet; one foot was even flexing its toes! Next to it, were the respective parent stinkers, the dirty shoes and sweaty socks, lying casually around. Hmm…so this is it. I peeped over my cubicle, made angry noises, and sniffed loudly, hoping to catch the attention of the face the feet own. But no such luck. He was oblivious to the odor. I took matters into my hands.

Brandishing ‘super extra strong’ room fresheners, I sprayed my entire workstation religiously every afternoon in anticipation of the dreaded stink. But to no avail. And so I decided to call on the Shoe Stink Killer.

I sat at my desk, with great concentration and called on to the Shoe Stink Killer. Taraaah!! And there he was, dressed in flashy white and blue (one of the Harpic bottle colors) costume, and with a blue eye mask, he made his presence in front of me. Thankfully, time came to a standstill, so no one really noticed the Shoe Stink Killer’s presence there.

He did not speak too much as he seemed to understand my plight. Wasting no time at all he sprayed something really…err…weird! I think even I fainted after that! It smelt a combination of a washing powder, a mosquito repellent and phenol. Gosh, thankfully after the Shoe Stink Killer left, life seeped back into the people on my floor. I peeped below my desk to have a look at the pair of the stinky feet and guess what I saw?

A pair of freshly pedicured feet, fresh socks, sparkling clean shoes and no smell at all! Thank you Shoe Stink Killer!

Who's life is it anyway...

Yesterday was a BLACK Tuesday for residents and tourists of Srinagar and Mumbai.

Terrorism- which seemed to lie low in India for the last few months seems to have bounced back with a BANG. Calm before the storm?

While hundreds of innocents have become victims of a barbaric act for the sake of some so-called "cause" (quite possible that the people who are actually fighting for the casue dont know what the 'cause' is - and perform acts of voilence as routine), the government is yet to make a break-through on the attack.

Media reports claim that in January signs of an attack were obvious.

Intelligence and police blame each other.

PM reviews security.

A Mumbai big-wig (responsible for communal riots himself) slams center and state for security lapse.

World leaders condemn blasts.

But the dead are dead.

And there is nothing the center or anyone else is going to do about it...

Krrushed!!!

I started out by trying to write a review on the movie Krrish.

The so called oh-so-fantastic Indian thriller with amazing special effects; that has conceived India’s superman or masked hero or whatever he’s called.

YAWN…

I am so disappointed with the movie that I don’t want to waste my time and effort getting into the … err….ho hum details (if you can call it that).

Just have one word - NONSENSE

Make Hay while the Sun Shines

A few days ago, I started a bit early for work. There was not much traffic. At a particularly important traffic junction, I happened to be the first to stop for a red signal, and other vehicles piled up behind me.

There was a lone traffic cop manning the junction. He was standing towards the other end of the signal. He casually looked around and suddenly spotted my car, and his eyes went straight to my number plate. Now, my car being an outstation registered one, I was an easy target.

He walked over and asked me to pull aside. I asked him why? Have I jumped the signal or crossed the zebra crossing? He just waved me aside and said that my pollution certificate had expired. I asked him how he assumed that? By this time the red light had changed to orange and people behind me were honking. I pulled to the side and told him I’d show him my pollution certificate which I had acquired very recently (I’m a law abiding citizen and make sure all my vehicle documents are up to date).

He gave a sickening laugh and insisted that I did not have it. He even went to the extent of asking me if I wanted to go to the court and pay a fine of Rs.450? - or…? (grease his palm to get off is what he implied I am sure). I told him to hold on and shuffled through my car documents. I pulled out the certificate and waved it in front of his face. I pointed out that it was valid till September. He just shut his gaping mouth and let me go.

Traffic cops are meant to monitor and control traffic and not govern it. I don’t even think this cop was designated to stop commuters to check on documents. And these kinds of cops think women drivers, especially ones driving outstation registered vehicles are easy targets.

A classic case of trying to “make hay while the sun shines”.

Only in this case, he tried very hard but couldn’t.

Paintings - June 2006

















Tree Bark - Oil on oil paper
















Bamboo Shoots - Oil on oil paper



















Sunrise over the sea - Oil on canvas



















In the forest - Oil on canvas


















Tree Bark 2 - Oil on oil paper

Read Between the Lines
Play Review

Read Between the Lines, a play written and directed by Suhasini Mairathnam, was staged in Hyderabad this week. What stood out, apart from Suhasini’s excellent performance as Radha, was the plot and interplay of colloquial Telugu, Indian English and American English.

The story revolved around a mother-daughter duo and their letters to each other; Radha in the US, and her mother Shantamma in Hyderabad. The plot was interesting enough. Shantamma’s letters portrayed the essence of a middle class south Indian home, and the nitty-gritty’s of a widow’s solitary life very well. The flash back clippings were well made and blended into the live performance. Shantamma’s letters to Radha kept the audience in humorous raptures. The surprise package of the play was Suhasini rendering a song melodiously, though the sudden bursts of dancing did tend to be a bit of a distraction. Details of Radha’s unhappy marriage are realistically expressed in small doses to a mother living miles away. Shantamma’s helplessness comes across wonderfully. The bachelor neighbor’s entry and exit into the lives of the mother-daughter duo is interesting and adds a twist to the plot.

Significantly, you have to read between the lines towards the climax as an unexpected and dramatic turn of events unfolds.

Suhasini’s performance – a blend of childish energy and maturity came across beautifully; considering this is her first theater performance. Ali Baig’s performance as Shantamma’s bachelor neighbor was satisfactory. Shantamma’s role was a miniscule one. The entire cast (just 3 people) played out the scenes well.

The light and sound at Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan was average and tried unsuccessfully to portray the quiet solitude of an Indian household in America. The lighting however did set the mood of a sometimes gloomy evening peppered with bright childhood memories. The costumes were not great. The audience seemed very familiar with Suhasini, and the play itself was marketed solely in her name. She made no qualms admitting that this was an amateurish play. Having said that, overall, it was an enjoyable experience.

My Paintings

These works are about 8 years old. Recent one yet to be photogarphed (been lazy). Will put them up soon.





The woodecutter - Oil on canvas





































Trees in Autumn - Oil Pastels






















Still-Life - Watercolors





















Girl at the Village Fair - Oil on canvas













Eternal Wait - Oil on Canvas

Canvas, Paints and Turpentine

The white stretched canvas with its almost invisible, but visible texture looks inviting.

I run my hands across the canvas and close my eyes. Close my eyes to see what is not yet there on the canvas; but will be there soon. In a couple of weeks.

I love the smell of oil paints, linseed oil and turpentine. The whole room smells heavenly. Armed with a couple of brushes, visions and thoughts, I’m lost in these intoxicating smells, thick textures and colors.

The canvas is half empty. Or is it half full?

The oil paint smell is lingering on my hands long after washing them. And I love it.

Idiot Box of Saas, Bahus, & Sindoor Fame

The idiot box is likely to remain so as long as the daily family sob sagas exist.

Cut to the producer who is high on the K factor. She claims her serials depict the daily lives of the middle class and deal with middle class values; (umm..read middle class as in huge gaudy bungalows, murders, and unthinkable scandals).

Switch to any of the Hindi television channels (the regional channels are not far behind) at prime time. Audiences gets a dose of:

Spiteful mothers-in-law (even 4 generations of them).

Tulsi leaves, purity (pavitra), 104 yr old grandmother.

Adarsh (bosom heaving) decked up bahus with 3 kgs of sindoor trying to keep in with the sanskar of the parivaar (never mind the strappy fashionable blouses).

Vamp aunts, bhabis and cousins – supposedly visiting but stay on for a couple of years to make life hell for the seeda-saada types.
Same vamps standing behind doors/windows eves dropping.

Gullible grandparents who get tricked by scheming bahus or nieces time and again (guess they’ll never learn-that too in old age).

Convenient remarriages each time a bahu is widowed.

Bigamy – one wife in jail one wife at home and the next one…?

Accidents-plastic surgery; enter brand new face and character.

New borns getting stolen, adoption.

Murders and scandals.

30 minutes of ‘ram nam satya hai’ etc etc etc…(dead person emerges in the next episode; a la after 30 years from ‘ganga ke kinare’ – matted hair, torn saree and shoddily made up wrinkles).

Bucket and buckets of (crocodile?) tears.

Spineless husbands.

Whew….I can go on!

Will Indian television ever grow up? Even serials that start on a sensible note land up going the K way…

Idiot Box? Definitely!

Swalpa Adjust Maadi! Idu Bengaluru…

Garden city? May not be in the true sense; but the weather is always great!
So swalpa adjust maadi.

Over crowded, yes. But you find great people from all walks of life. So stop complaining.
And swalpa adjust maadi.

Pot holed roads. But hey, where else can you find such good jobs? Swalpa adjust maadi.

Traffic is bad these days. But innumerable, easily accessible weekend getaways. So what are you complaining about?Swalpa adjust maadi.

More over you get great stuff to eat. A true foodie’s paradise.
From SLV idli, MTR benne dose, darshini delights, lip-smacking road-side chats, coffee shops, North Indian, Italian, Chinese, to Thai …endless list actually.

So, swalpa adjust maadi.

Greenest of green pastures

As the age-old saying goes: The grass is always greener on the other side.

We (most of us at least) run to the other side and look back. Hey, wasn’t it greener back there? Or maybe this present shade of green is not the one for me, we think. Let’s look a little ahead; just might find the greener green! But then again…you never know!

Beauty Sleep

Zzzzzzzzzz…. heavenly sleep.
Dreamless, faceless and dark. Relaxing. Transported to another world.

Trrrrrriiiiiiiiinnngg!
Oh Shoot! There goes the alarm. I have to wake up now. And go to the gym!How boring can life get…same music, same exercises, same treadmill, same everything!

Wish I could sleep forever.

Gassi-The Tail-less Labrador

He came to us when he was 21 days old. A small black ball of fur. His eyes were not open yet. He made small little noises…something in-between a squeak and a groan. Or was it a moan? His face had wrinkles (his father was a boxer and mother a lab). We named him Agassi. Yes, we named him after the very same Andre Agassi, as the evening he came to us, Andre Agassi won his first Wimbledon title. So Agassi be thy name, we decided, though it was later shortened to “Gassi”.

The first few nights, Gassi whined all through the night (missed his mother I think). Those days, we fed him milk with an ink filler. He used to sleep in a small little orange basket under my mother’s bed. Everytime he cried, my mother would pick him up and pat him back to sleep. Slowly he got used to his new home. He opened his yes and started walking. His paws made soft pattering noises and slipped every now and then on the smooth mosaic. Few weeks down the line, he learnt to run, lap up milk from a bowl and eat cerelac.

Gassi was jet black save for a white spot on his chin. His face had the wrinkles of a boxer which he inherited from his father. The vet advised us to cut his tail as that is the norm for boxers. And since he seemed to look like one, off went his tail. And he was left with a black stump at the bottom of his spine. But to our dismay, as he grew over the next few months, all his wrinkles disappeared one by one. And he started looking like a Labrador! And a lab without a tail at that! However, tail or no tail, the black little stump ceased to stop wagging ever.

In time, Gassi became the friendliest and most lovable dog in the neighborhood. He chewed up the best of footwear, almost broke a teak wood door, uprooted my mother’s rose bushes and chased the neighborhood cat. He became the protector of little children on the street, a fielder when by brother’s friends played cricket or a steadfast loyal companion on a quiet evening. When we returned home from school/college or office, we were greeted with joyful barks and warm licks. He would circle us, pounce and not let us enter the house until we spoke to him. This was not limited to just our family. Anyone who walked through the gate was welcomed with barks and wet licks.

Gassi grew up to be a handsome fellow with the most expressive face. His body language spoke volumes. And his soulful eyes explicitly communicated his reactions/feelings. If only he could speak-we used to think. He was also a highly disciplined and obedient pet. So much so, that my mother once remarked, “I have three children. My youngest son is the most obedient”.

Gassi had this thing for dressing up. He would love to wear T-shirts, caps and glasses. He’d parade in them proudly and not let anyone take them off.

Gassi was gentle, adorable, intelligent and naughty. He lived for 14+ years. Losing him was an extremely painful experience for my family.

His memories are evergreen.

Nilanjanaa – my Bundle of Joy

You came into this world
With a loud squeal and yelp.
Your tiny little face
All pink and round.

You kicked and cried,
And quickly closed your eyes.
To fall into a deep slumber,
While I held you in my arms.

Translucent fingers and toes;
Curled up,
So small, so sweet,
Smelling of divine baby fragrances.

With a coo you made me smile.
With a gurgle you won my heart.

What could be more perfect?
What could be more bliss?

My precious bundle of joy
Such a miracle baby you are.

Recruitment Consultants

Tring Tring…

"Hello…am I speaking to Sangeeta”? The voice at the other end of the line asked. The minute I get a call like this, I know where it’s coming from. But just how do they always manage to call when I have just landed myself in a good job? Or so I think. And call at a time when my boss is breathing down my neck to meet some mundane deadline…or when I’m in a meeting with my CEO.

Where are these consultants when I am desperately looking for a change?

Back to the call - “Hello…am I speaking to Sangeeta”? “Yes”, I reply. “Hello Sangeeta, this is XYZ calling from ABC Consulting, we have an opening with an MNC client. I found your profile on a job portal and it seems to match our requirement. Would you be interested”? I look around. My boss is right next to me, but hey, he’s got head phones on and maybe can’t hear. It’s tempting, should I say yes..., but the entire floor is so quiet. The only sound is the occasional tapping on the keyboard. I suddenly decide I have to be loyal and can’t get tempted by such calls.

I clear my voice and say “No, I’m not looking for a change”. The consultant at the other end asks “Are you very sure, it’s a very good opportunity”. “No, I am not interested right now” I reply. “But you have just updated your profile” says the nagging consultant. Aaauugh… cant I update my profile whenever I want…I feel like asking him. But I don’t reply. “Where you are currently employed Sangeeta?” he asks innocently. This time I feel like yelling–you’ve supposed have found my profile interesting, cant you see where I am presently employed you moron…But I keep my cool and cleverly reply “I’m presently working for a company in Hyderabad”. “Oh ok, if you have any friends or collogues looking for a change can you please give my reference?” he asks. I almost ask him if he thinks I have no better work in life. But sense prevails and I politely tell him I’m new to the city and don’t know people. He mumbles a thank you and hangs up. Whew….how irritating can these people get, I ask myself. And get back to concentrating on my work.

Tring tring…oh God! Not again!

Fangs and hisses…

I have always been fascinated by Steve Irving of the crocodile hunter fame on Animal Planet. And I so wanted to be like him…

I trained for 12 rigorous weeks at the Singapore Zoo (to become a volunteer for a reptile conservation project). I gathered facts and figures on conservation, learnt each snake’s/crocodile’s routine, which species were endangered and which were not, their habits, traits and more. By this time, I had developed a very healthy respect and a little fear for snakes and their cousins. Handling tame, non-venomous snakes and displaying them for visitors was part of the program. And the time had come for me to make my first physical contact with a snake. A full grown, 4 -and -a -half feet male rock python called Carl. Carl is 3 years old, the keeper told me. “He’s very calm and is used to human touch too” he said.…

The keeper had casually flung Carl across his shoulders. He had a combination of dark brown, beige and black patterns all over. His shiny black eyes twinkled. The keeper came towards me. And my heart started beating wildly. Can Carl hear my heart beat? I wondered. And before I realized, the keeper was holding Carl in his outstretched arms in front of me. “Go on, hold him”, he said. “Oh…ok”, I said nervously. I took the python in my hands. He was cold, dry and smooth. He wriggled at the new touch. He turned his head to look me in the eye, pink fangs flicking in and out…making it look like he was ready to strike me. He made a couple of hissing noises, and I started making a mental note of the snake-bite first aid classes I had attended.

But suddenly, much to my astonishment, Carl slithered up my arm and made himself comfortable on my shoulders. He’s heavy, I thought. His fangs touched my skin, but nothing happened. And I sighed with relief. But I was profusely sweating. “Relax, pythons can sense your uneasiness”, the keeper said. I relaxed a bit, just incase my new friend perched on my shoulders actually had extra sensory powers and suddenly decided he wanted to taste my blood. His tail coiled around my waist. And I sharply sucked my breath in and gingerly uncoiled it. The keeper had told me to never let a python coil around any body part. Would he squeeze and suffocate me, I wondered. But of course, he was only playing. For the next couple of minutes I just let him lie there on my shoulders. He wriggled every now and then. But seemed like he was getting used to me.

Slowly, I started walking with him around the enclosure. By this time I had got past that little primal tingle at the base of my spine. And once I knew that Carl posed no danger, I was fascinated. Fascinated at the way he slithered noiselessly, the way he hissed often, and the way his eyes either twinkled in sunlight or glowed in shade.

I realized what a beautiful creature Carl was. So very vulnerable and harmless. From that day onwards, I’d pick up Carl fearlessly and carry him across my shoulders and proudly walk around the enclosure, as visitors watched amazed, fascinated and a little horrified.

They had that look in their eyes. The same awe-struck look that I used to have, while I watched Steve Irving on Animal Planet. Steve has dedicated his entire life for animals and it’s a very noble thing to do. But I’m glad that I’ve been able to do my two-bits. Even if it was just to spread awareness on conservation of snakes.