• Rambling between the seasons

    Once upon a time I used to blog. Regularly. Blogging was my way of reaching out to the world without making a phone call or catching a bus to meet someone somewhere.

    I participated in Blog Hops, took part in blogger events and even had three blogs up and running simultaneoulsy. But today I find that my presence in the blogosphere has whittled down to a few posts on just this one blog.

    Is this because I’m like a cat content to lie down as blogs go by?

    Was it laziness? Was it depression? Was it overwork?

    SHOULD SLEEPING BLOGS BE LEFT TO LIE?
    Photo by u0410u043bu0435u043au0441u0430u043du0434u0430u0440 u0426u0432u0435u0442u0430u043du043eu0432u0438u045b on Pexels.com

    Perhaps it was a combination of all.

    Barring the odd post like the one that went up last week, my writing has been almost non-existent. I haven’t even had time to write down my daily accounts! No wonder then that there haven’t been any visitors to this space. After all, who would like to visit a blank space?

    Looking back, it can be put down to two reasons: living in the moment and majorly failing at my No.1 resolution of the year – losing weight.

    The difficulties of living in the moment

    While living in the moment has kept me from this blog, another distraction has been my continued effort to lose weight. One of the New Year resolutions which most of us make was to lose weight. And like many people, this resolution has come to naught by the middle of the year. This failure has also added to the general feeling of blah that has kept me away from my personal space.

    A MOMENT IS LIKE AN ACCORDION Photo by Yan Krukau on Pexels.com

    The reasons might sound lame, but as we all know, I’ve been too busy not only living but living in the moment. All this living can be called overwork. Strange as it may sound, I think each moment actually consists of several micro-moments, and trying to consciously live each one to the fullest can be quite a fiddle.

    Much like an accordion, the moment seems to expand as you try and fit in ‘living’ every bit of the moment. This happens every second, every minute, every hour and every day till finally a month goes by living in this stretchable moment.

    Does this sound confusing? Not really because if you analyse it, living a daily life takes up to 24 hours, and adding in a few unplanned events, the time becomes even more difficult to control.

    And I’m not just talking about the emergencies or contingencies but a simple thing like watching the sunset: when you consciously look around and appreciate the sky, the clouds, and perhaps a few birds flying home; while you feel the breeze on your cheeks or wipe away a stray bead of sweat, a line from a verse may surface in your mind. Thus, living in the moment can take a lot of effort and ‘time”.


    Climate change and losing weight

    MAKE A SPLASH
    Photo by Sarah Schorer on Pexels.com

    Contrary to what people believe, climate change not only affects the world, it affects the people too. At least it has definitely addled my brains.

    For instance, 25 C was the hottest it was in my Mumbai while growing up. waAt best it may have touched the occasional 30 C . This summer, however, it reached 40 and just occasionally slipped ten degrees lower. For the first time I understood the phrase ‘Mad dogs and Englishmen’ and being neither of the two, actually stayed home for the better part of the day. I even did something hitherto never done – darkening my room in the afternoon and catching a siesta.

    Why losing weight in the summer is a bad idea

    The intense summer had made it difficult for me to step out even with the early morning sun because the glare was untenable. I was compelled to make my 10,000 steps, with sunglasses. In addition, I had to carry my water bottle to keep myself hydrated…

    How I longed to find a less tedious way of melting away the fat.

    The answer came to me one evening as I sat by the poolside watching Ms. Papaya and her friends splash in the pool. I wished I could join in. One of the regular old aunties who waddled around the pool with a noodle, invited me to jump in.

    Swimsuits and Noodles

    I had a ready excuse: I didn’t have a suitable swimsuit. For years I used to look at my swim suit and wonder why it was so difficult to put on. Was it because of my injured arm which though fixed, still plays up from time to time and makes it difficult to pull up the straps? Or was it because the costume was too tight?

    I was being an ostrich refusing to accept the fact that I needed to get a new swimsuit.

    Finally, I took the metaphorical plunge and went to Premson’s Bazaar where the salesman promptly pulled up the perfect swimsuit. It checked all the boxes for me: it was Navy but not black, so it would enhance the illusion of slimness, it had pretty white flowers – a print that always cheers me up and it had a skirt that covered up my thighs. But it was 3XL!

    What happened to the barrier I had sworn never to cross ?

    But worse still horrifying how did the salesman could size me up with just a glance and pick out the perfect size????

    I bought it nonetheless in a bid to whittle down the X’s to an L.

    So for a while, I walked up and down the pool in my new swimsuit with my new friends and a pink pool-noodle.

    And then came the rain

    Just as I was getting comfortable in this routine, the rains came upon us. Unlike the normal Mumbai monsoon that comes on 7th June, this year it played truant. And when it came, it was an unusual monsoon . For a large part of the day, dark, heavy clouds would hover over the city, making the heat more oppressive. But the clouds stayed where they were, gathering ominously , waiting perversely to begin an incessant downpour on the weekend.

    Though the rains were welcome, this year it rained and rained much more than expected. The IMD ( which we used to ignore for their notoriously wrong predictions) issued flood alerts twice and the city stayed shut for a few days! What happened to the good old Mumbaikar’s Never Say Die spirit?

    I remember those school girl days arriving at school, drenched to the bone yet shivering through the day with other children who braved the rain because we were never encouraged to stay home even on a very wet day. “Rain holiday” hadn’t been invented those days and by the time the last straggler stumbled into class by lunch time, the Principal would announce a half day with a caveat that school would remain open the following day.

    And the average Mumbaikar plodded on too. Despite train services being cancelled, or people being washed away through open manholes, we braved it all.

    Climate change has impacted all of us .

    Do raincoats really help?

    While the rain were a welcome relief from the heat, the raindrops that would begin to fall just as I set out to walk were rather annoying. I hated that light shower cap of crystal droplets on my hair and carrying an umbrella was quite pointless. So once again I went off to the shop to get myself a raincoat from Decathalon at Atria Mall.

    But this raincoat, light though it was made me sweat more because of the heat trapped in while I walked and the hood came over my eyes making it hard to see where I was going.

    I then resorted to my last option: walking in the refuge space in our building with the other residents going round and round, trying to avoid banging into each other while the “fat” melted away.

    With whimsical weather thwarting my attempts at losing weight, and living in the moment, don’t you think it is challenging to find time to write in this space?

    Ciao

    p.s. Hope you had a happy Independence day.

  • Barbies & Barbie dolls

    Movies are the world of magic, a world I was introduced to at the age of six, when my aunt dropped off my cousin and me to the steps of Eros, the iconic Art Deco Theatre in Mumbai to watch Rex Harrison and Audrey Hepburn in the unforgettable musical “My Fair Lady”

    Since then, I’ve loved watching movies. With or without the popcorn and colas .

    Sadly during CoVid, movie watching was restricted to Netflix and I sorely missed the experience of a big screen, specially since I was brought up on a diet of 2 big screen movies a week. I know this sounds like a lot of screen time but believe me, for us it was just 6 hours a week because we grew up in a land of no television. Also the movies were shown in the Club where all the kids used to go so it was just another extension of our play time.

    The last theatre experience I had was a late night show at my favourite movie theatre INOX INSIGNIA at Atria Mall . No matter how many movies I go to, each time I walk through the door to a movie theatre, I feel the thrill of walking into a magic land. And the Inox at Atria definitely evokes those feelings as I walk into the lobby with its retro decor.

    The last time I saw a movie here was a late night show of TOP GUN. But watching the movie from the first row was a bit too much to handle particularly when the planes literally whizzed over my head.

    So this time round we decided to skip the online reservations and choose our own seats right up at the even though it meant that Jo and I had to carefully trudge up the steps.

    Barbie?

    BARBIE would seem an unlikely choice for two ladies fast fading from their prime but an interesting movie critique by Mandira Nevatia caught my attention. If a young woman who definitely did not play with dolls could sit through its pinkness, surely I, with my childhood passion for dolls, would be able to sit through it?

    Like hundreds of little girls the world over, dolls have always been my favourite toy. Whether they were hand made or crude wooden ones, the advent of Barbie, the perfectly proportioned plastic doll introduced by Mattel truly changed the world of Dolls for girls the world over.

    Growing up I had 21 in all and spent hours with them , bathing them , combing out their hair, making clothes for them, celebrating their birthdays and even ‘teaching’ them what I’d learnt at school . I had them all: the baby doll that peed when bottle fed, the bendy leg ones with eyes that blinked shut when sleeping, to the larger blue eyed walkie talkies with their stiff mechanical movements and unfamiliar American drawl.

    Barbies came much later in my life – in my early teens in fact when my interest in dolls was fading. That didn’t, however, dampen my enthusiasm for her and I actually had 5 Barbies and a Ken! Having Ken was unusual because these dolls were almost always gifts from family overseas so when we got a Barbie and a Ken, we decided to celebrate with an authentic Catholic wedding particularly since we were staying in Bandra in those days and I so longed to wear my Sunday Best as did my friends who marched off to church every Sunday. So my cousins and I organised the wedding replete with cake and ‘champagne’ tossing in a week’s honeymoon in Grannie’s cupboard. I still remember how aghast we were when we found out that Ken dislocated his leg and were annoyed with the grown-ups’ sniggers and Wink-Wink glances.

    Barbie in the real world

    For those of you who don’t like Barbie or never played with her like my own girls, Ms. Papaya, her mother Prima Donna and aunt Anna Shetty, it would come as a surprise that Ruth Handler, the inventor of Barbie was far from a real life Bimbo as one could imagine. She was an entrepreneur through and through and sought to create a doll that would inspire young girls to become trail blazers.

    Mattel’s attempt at making Barbie universally appealing made them diversify into Barbies with different identities and ethnicities. Yet Barbie in her own world is near perfect with the sun perpetually shining in her immaculate world ruled entirely by women .

    But one day when Barbie discovers a layer of cellulite forming under her perfectly sculpted legs and horror of horrors -she no longer balances on her tippy toes, she seeks the help of Weird Barbie who tells her that she is being messed up by a girl real world is playing with her. The solution to this was a visit to the real world to sort things out.

    Thus Barbie finds herself in Venice Beach , Los Angeles with the faithful Ken in tow. But the real world poses problems for the two with Barbie getting lewd comments and hate comments while Ken is stunned at the respect he solicits from strangers and also amazed that he is incapable of getting a job despite his perfectly sculpted body.

    Ken is spell bound by the power of Patriarchy and quickly returns to Toyland to change the world for the other Kens. Barbie is equally horrified by the real world and goes back with her human friends who help her escape from the being captured by the Board of Mattel chasing her desparately with the hope of restoring peace in the real world without a stridently feminist Barbie in their midst. Yet, at the end of the day, Barbie comes back to the real world to play her part as a real life woman rather than live as the perfect, stereotypical Barbie in Toyland with emasculated men completely in the shadow of her loving gaze.

    Yay or Nay?

    Naturally a movie like this, playing at the same time as Oppenheimer was bound to generate conversation. I didn’t see Oppenheimer for very personal reasons ( I’d heard it was long and tedious) but I thoroughly enjoyed Barbie in her bubblegum pink world. It is light and frothy yet addresses many feminist issues that will always remain.

    Which brings us to the question we all ask ourselves:

    Is it better to live in a perfect world where nothing ever goes wrong for the women or live in reality warts and all?

    Ciao

  • Is Yoga for everyone ?

    Today is International Yoga Day and as always, people will decide to stretch their arms, twist their necks or do whichever yogic poses they are comfortable doing.

    I was sitting in my father’s balcony watching the morning walkers when he remarked that the profile of walkers has changed over the years. In his younger days, the only people he saw walking were groups of pensioners who would amble along , chatting away and stopping to pick flowers for their daily prayer .

    Gradually, women joined in and soon the pensioners changed to middle aged couples. The morning exercisers then morphed into runners sporting neon coloured joggers and fancy sneakers . And most recently the Yoganics have joined them scurrying around earnestly with Yoga mats tucked under their arms .

    What is undeniable is the fact that Yoga has now become a household word the world over and like it or hate it, Yoga is here to stay. Much like malaria and tuberculosis and the most recent scourge of humanity – CoVid 19.

    Till two years ago, words like virus, pandemic, social distancing, and quarantine were found mainly in dictionaries. But today even my six-year-old grandson uses them in everyday speech.

    CoVid has undeniably impacted all our lives and introduced us to many new things, ideas and words. Some of them are literally life-changing while others we hope will soon vanish once the Virus vanishes or mutates into a harmless little creature.

    One of lessons I have learnt in the times of Corona, is that Yoga is the best form of exercise.

    https://pixabay.com/users/geralt-9301/

    After all, with so many people scared of activities that involve close contact with others, etc., Yoga has suddenly acquired universal appeal because it is one activity that can be done in one’s home. It can be done without any equipment. It can also be done without prior knowledge thanks to the millions of YouTube instructions available online. And thanks to Mr. Modi, yoga is no longer a dirty word.

    Besides being a way to pass the time during this pandemic ( if you had any free time that is) it was also a healthy way to live and build immunity.

    Funnily enough, because of the load of housework in the initial stages of the pandemic when my household staff had fled to their villages, I didn’t find time to do much Yoga. My usual practice of 10 minutes was condensed to some cursory stretches while in bed and two asanas before I seized the day.

    When I managed to catch a Yoga class which was being Zoomed live, I considered myself lucky. But this was at best twice a week. However, now with things returning to some kind of rhythm, I find my Yoga a wonderful way to keep fit.

    But not all people take to Yoga mainly because of the several myths associated with it :

    Yoga is a Hindu exercise

    This by far is the silliest excuse I’ve heard for NOT doing Yoga. Especially from non-Hindus.

    One day, I ran into Dr. M, a scholar of religious studies (and somewhat of a fundamentalist in the religion he practices), reduced to half his size and devoid of all his bluster that characterised him during pre-Covid days. Of course, I was quite shocked to see him walk rather despondently down the Club verandah. When pressed, he confessed that he had had a health issue and was advised to de-stress.

    Yoga, was the answer to de-stress, especially the least physical of them – the Pranayam.

    Immediately, I seized my chance and told him to do Yoga as that was the best stress buster. But I was stunned that this learned and spiritually enlightened man said that this was simply out of the question because Yoga was a Hindu exercise system and contrary to his beliefs!

    Besides, he couldn’t bring himself to say, Om. When I told him that it was as ridiculous as dubbing callisthenics Christian, he relented and said perhaps he could try saying Ooo instead?

    Yoga makes you lose weight

    At the best of times when I did Yoga every day ( a really long, long time ago), I could only do around 15 Surya Namaskars ( i.e. 2 x 15 ) at a stretch. Of course, I didn’t lose any weight because I was already thin to begin with but as soon as the weight began to pile on I was tempted to try a free trial class of Power Yoga. No sooner were we warmed up than we began doing Surya Namaskars at such a frantic pace that left me completely breathless! All that I achieved at the end of the session was a pain in the lower back.

    However, Surya Namaskar which is a fluid movement of 7 asanas is a complete and rigorous form of Yoga. If done correctly and regularly, you will remain slim and trim. BUT you cannot start off with 108 and you also have to watch what you eat as is the case in any regimen that you adopt strictly to lose weight.

    Yoga is only for girls and sissies.

    I don’t know how this myth came about because most of the Yoga classes that I joined had a fair number of men. In fact, one of the better classes I attended ( Iyengar’s Yoga school) had MORE men than women. The instructors were men too . In one class, I suddenly found one of them winking at me, upside down, from the opposite side of the room while we were in the middle of an Adhomukhoshwanasana. I nearly gagged when I saw that wink especially since the man was as old and greying as I was!

    Western Women are better at Yoga

    This was the most ridiculous bit Yoga trivia I’d heard at a Yoga talk during a famous dietitian’s book launch. Rujuta Divekar who is undoubtedly a fitness guru said that Western women could do an unaided headstand from day one while we Indian women clung to the wall for all of our lives. This she attributed to their innate independence and our reluctance to stand alone. She also said that Indian women were better at forward bends because we were used to always giving in and being accommodating. Conversely, Western women were better at standing poses and couldn’t bend very well because they were stronger and more rigid and firm in their views. This didn’t detract me from attempting her exercises which really help time poor people like me to get fit .

    Yoga is a cult

    This I find is pure nonsense . I have over the years joined several Yoga classes and have never found myself in a cult. My Yoga teachers have always been mainstream people who took to Yoga purely out of interest and passion. Undoubtedly, there were some classes that began with a prayer or a series of Oms but many began without a Yoga prayer or mantras. And definitely none of our Yoga teachers preached any kind of philosophy.

    In fact attributing exercise to religion is foolish – almost like saying running is African simply because many runners are African or Kung Fu is Buddhist.

    essentially Yoga is not a mere exercise system but a holistic exercise system that is easy on the body and great for the spirit.

    So get out your yoga mat and stretch those muscles to good health

    Om, shanti, shanti, shanti hi.

    Happy Yoga Day and ciao

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