Head in Clouds, Feet on Ground
Monday, 6 October 2025
On Coffee
Coffee, as has been rightly said, is an emotion. One reaches for it for comfort, or to feel energized and stimulated. With the plethora of choices available these days, one would think the humble filter coffee would be relegated to the background. But no, it holds its own amongst connoisseurs of the aromatic bean. It is not instant; it is not quick either. It takes a while for the decoction to percolate and slowly drip into the compartment below. It illustrates how good things come to those who wait.
With me, coffee is a gesture of welcome, and also a measure of closeness. There are people who pick up the phone and say, Set up your filter, I am coming over for coffee! I look forward to these impromptu sessions, because that is when I treat myself to coffee too. Alas, I have not yet acquired the taste for it without sugar, so I don’t have it every day. Therefore, I savour it even more, when I do have it.
I was introduced to coffee at a very early age. I could not have milk by itself or with any of the health drink mixes, so my mother would put a few drops of the decoction in milk and I would happily have “coffee”! As I grew older the coffee part increased and the milk part decreased.
I read somewhere that coffee should be
Black as the Devil,
Sweet as an Angel, and
Hot as Hell!
While we have had filter coffee of all kinds, our present brand was discovered on a trip to Yercaud, the hill station in South India. From the plantations which were a sight to behold, came this particular brand. Another memorable trip was one to Coorg, again abundant with coffee plantations. I indulged in different blends and varieties of this ambrosia at that time.
Of late, I have found myself noticing the smell of coffee in hospitals, malls, airports, and offices. I unabashedly judge these places by that smell!
This post is a part of Blogchatter Blog Hop
Wednesday, 11 June 2025
Friends Forever
It is time to say goodbye to some good friends.They initially enveloped me in their warmth, but of late they had begun to irritate me a little. I am getting all hot and bothered with them around. I feel they are intruding into my space. To be honest, I found them to be a little high maintenance. In time, I'd be willing to welcome them again, but now is not that time. I think we could do with a break, a nice long one.
And now I want to take up with some old friends, who had gone away. They were in a dark space and I thought it best to let them be. I did miss them terribly, and now they are coming back to me, in ones and twos. Their lightness of being echoes my lightheartedness. Their breezy demeanor cheers me and I see in them a colourful wish to stick to me as the days go by.
So goodbye, woollens, and hello cottons!!!
Tiny Terror
Spring is ephemeral everywhere, but nowhere more so than in our Delhi-NCR. All the more to be savoured and enjoyed, therefore. While everyone rhapsodizes about spring blooms and fresh verdant growth, I am paralysed by the first sighting of the humble house lizard.
No number of peacock feathers and eggshells can faze this terrifying descendant of the T. Rex. (Pardon my inaccuracy about its lineage). It probably considers the house its own, and embarks on a tour to check if all is as it left it. It sometimes loses its grip—literally—and falls with a stultifying plop in the most inconvenient of places. Once, it landed on my head and those milliseconds must have done more damage to my heart than any amount of chhole bhature, and frozen desserts rich in trans-fats.
The morning ritual of pulling aside the curtains and opening the balcony door is now rife with wariness. I unabashedly embrace my inner coward and leave this otherwise-pleasant task to hubby or the help. As for picture frames and paintings, I don’t dare touch them for fear of a sudden darting out of a squiggly, wriggly creature who just might leave its tail behind!
No doubt it keeps in check the other creepy crawlies. However, is it too much to ask it to restrict itself to unseen spots? Can we just coexist peacefully please?
Review: Can We Be Strangers Again
HOW MANY TREES DIED FOR THIS BOOK TO SEE LIGHT OF DAY?
This month’s book choice was Can We Be Strangers Again by Shrijeet Shandilya.
Purportedly a college romance, the book is touted as a national bestseller. From the venerable house of Penguin, at that. For many of us, the title brought to mind the wistful, tender melody, “Chalo ik baar phir se, Ajnabi ban jaayein hum dono”. It indicated a delicate love story, with the promise of new beginnings, or a whimsical wish to relive the joy and excitement of nascent love. Alas, ‘disappointed’ doesn’t begin to cover it. It left us, the readers, frustrated and nonplussed. It was evocative all right, just not the way I expected. It evoked indignation and regret.
The story never takes off. The protagonist (aah, the glory days when they were called ‘hero’!) evokes no sympathy whatsoever. He is a whiner; a clueless one at that. The only stars in the book are the ones which bleep out the cuss words (used rather liberally!)
The book is set partly in the lockdowns of 2020 and 2021. Nowhere does the author delve into the gravity of that situation. Even as just a backdrop to the story, the pandemic and lockdowns are hardly relevant. The narrative is repetitive in the language used, as well as in the incidents described. There are whole sections of dialogues in Hindi. This can still be condoned as reported speech of the characters; however, in some places the narrator speaks to the reader in Hindi. This feels incongruous.
The narrative simply does not move forward. It seems to be just the ramblings of a confused youth in a haze of alcohol and smoke. None of the characters show any growth. After a point the reader may even wish for the characters to turn negative, just to break the tedium. Even that does not happen. Granted, not all stories need to be uplifting; some can elicit even strong negative reactions. However, this one was merely a pallid attempt at a perspective on love and friendship. Evidently the main character is familiar with neither.
No book discussion in recent memory on this forum has been so vociferous in condemnation of a book. It was not available in the e-format: imagine the amount of paper wasted. In our discussion, a point was raised about the story not being aimed at our age group. Even so, I am sure we would have loved a well written college romance. Time and again, I have noticed that whatever the age of the reader, s/he identifies with the protagonist or at least another important character in a story, if it is well written. Clearly that was not the case here. Peppered with misplaced metaphors, grammatical errors and typos, the book had me reaching for a red pen, awakening my inner schoolmarm!
The dedication at the beginning of the book begs the question: this has to be semi-autobiographical at the very least.
No doubt, a writer will write what s/he wishes to, but what were the editors doing? What made an esteemed publishing house bring this book out? And what kind of reading public has made this a national bestseller? That, my friends, is a question for the ages.
If I have repeated myself in this review, it may be chalked up to the influence of the book itself. In one word: excruciating!
Thursday, 20 January 2022
Airavata 1: Elephant Tales
This blog post is part of the Airavata1microbloghop hosted by MeeraVBarath
Serendipity is something I believe in. I am delighted each time things seem to align themselves to produce a desired result. One such event happened recently, culminating in the production of the book Airavata, by Mayaakatha, Where Stories Dance: the brainchild of Meera Bharath.
It so happened that I already had the germ of an idea for a story featuring a baby elephant. I had narrated this story to my children as a bedtime story, many many years ago. I had never written it down as such, spinning the yarn out of my imagination and embellishing it with different expressions as I narrated it. My children are grown up now, yet the story stayed with me all these years. I had planned to write it down properly at some point in time.
Well, the time was ripe, apparently. I came across a call for elephant stories, to be collected into a book. That spurred me into action, and the story took shape in its present form, “The Elephant and the Snail”.
The concept of living beings helping each other is very dear to my heart and in telling this story to my children (and now other children too), I hope to spread kindness all around. This is especially relevant in the context of humans causing harm to the delicate ecosystem around them. I also wanted to emphasize that no creature is too small to help and no creature is too big to need help. Animal stories have a special resonance with children and adults alike. I had never read any story with a snail as a character, so I wanted to explore that possibility too.
I hope everybody who reads this and other stories in the book takes away a smile and a thought to ponder on.
https://meerasoasis.com/airavata1-microblog-hop/
https://www.amazon.in/Airavata-Meera-Bharat/dp/9354903258/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2GVR7ZJZMXLKD&keywords=airavata&qid=1642700111&s=books&sprefix=airavata%2Cstripbooks%2C226&sr=1-1
#AiravataAnthology
#StoriesWithMayakatha
#PachydermTales
#UkiyotoPublishers
Airavata: Stories for Children & the child in you
This blog post is part of the Airavata1microbloghop hosted by MeeraVBarath
Serendipity is something I believe in. I am delighted each time things seem to align themselves to produce a desired result. One such event happened recently, culminating in the production of the book Airavata, by Mayaakatha, Where Stories Dance: the brainchild of Meera Bharath.
It so happened that I already had the germ of an idea for a story featuring a baby elephant. I had narrated this story to my children as a bedtime story, many many years ago. I had never written it down as such, spinning the yarn out of my imagination and embellishing it with different expressions as I narrated it. My children are grown up now, yet the story stayed with me all these years. I had planned to write it down properly at some point in time.
Well, the time was ripe, apparently. I came across a call for elephant stories, to be collected into a book. That spurred me into action, and the story took shape in its present form, “The Elephant and the Snail”.
The concept of living beings helping each other is very dear to my heart and in telling this story to my children (and now other children too), I hope to spread kindness all around. This is especially relevant in the context of humans causing harm to the delicate ecosysytem around them. I also wanted to emphasize that no creature is too small to help and no creature is too big to need help. Animal stories have a special resonance with children and adults alike. I had never read any story with a snail as a character, so I wanted to explore that possibility too.
I hope everybody who reads this and other stories in the book takes away a smile and a thought to ponder
Tuesday, 28 July 2020
Beauty be held
A tiny tale
He: I will love you as long as you are beautiful.
She: I will be beautiful as long as you love me!
He: I will love you as long as you are beautiful.
She: I will be beautiful as long as you love me!
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