She watched her lips dance towards her nose and break into several ringlets as soon as the tiny pebble struck between her eyes. She smiled and watched the many circles which made her seem larger than what she was. Minu balanced herself on the rope over the pulley, with an empty aluminium bucket serving as sole counterbalance. Of course, there was Viru trying to pull her skirt and yelping for no reason. He was nearly pleading her to get off the ledge, but why was he worried today? He had seen her play with her "friend" in the well on so many days and would simply peer over the mud walls and bark at that ferocious creature staring back at his Minu."Leave me, Viru. What's wrong with you?"
Viru simply barked and ran around in circles before he started tugging at her skirt.
Minu turned her attention to her "friend" who was swimming as wildly as she could. Minu let out a "Ho" which bounced off the greenish walls, down to her "friend". Her "friend" replied with a meek "Ho" bathed in the splashing waters. Viru cocked his head to the side and wondered who else was around. He carefully walked around the well and started chasing a chameleon, rebuking it for speaking so loudly in his mistress' presence.
"You know what happened today, right?"
Her "friend" simply danced around and ignored the question.
"Don't do that. I have only you to talk to and you are busy playing around."
Her "friend" stopped and looked Minu in the eye.
"No, I do not want to marry him."
Her "friend's" eyes narrowed and silence between them seemed to throttle Minu into divulging the details.
"Yes, I did that, but that was just to tease him. I knew he was watching from the terrace and could see me through the gap between the door and the roof. But that was just for fun. Does every thing have to end on a serious note?"
Her "friend" grew serious. Minu drew in a long breath.
"He thinks I want him."
Her "friend" turned away in disgust, or was it the spray of mud falling from under Minu's palm?
"He came to my room last week."
Her "friend" stared back at her.
"Yes... I couldn't stop him, and I couldn't scream. He was sick and treated me like ..."
Minu turned away and let the bucket fall into the well with a loud splash. The noise thundered out and joined her nerves in their trembling. Minu shuddered. Fate and her inner repugnance raised the bile to her mouth.
She turned around and tugged at the rope, slowly drawing the bucket out. Manual labour was the only way she could cleanse herself of thoughts that tortured her over the past week. She let the ropes slip a bit and cut into her skin, cleaning all remnants of his torso as she had tried to push him away. She held the thick rope between her legs and let the bucket slip further. As the rope rushed and tore against the far end of her inner thighs she bit her lip and accepted the pain which was the only way to silence the palpitating horror of that night. The bucket slammed into her "friend" and both of them screamed. Minu was bleeding from between her legs. Viru was back and could smell it. He lowered his tail and crouched near her feet whimpering. She raised the bucket again and now wrapped the coarse coir around her chest. She took one more deep breath before she let go. The ropes screamed across her chest, mercilessly cutting through her fabric and deeper in before she heard her "friend's" muffled scream.
"No", Minu gasped, "Neither of us can be happier than the other."
Her hands and nearly all of her were bleeding when she leaned over one more time to look at her friend. The water splashed violently under the recent battering.
She sat down with her back against the mud walls. Viru placed his muzzle on her lap and looked up at her. He remembered what his friends used to say: "Thank god we never live long enough in the midst of human beings to be infected with their invisible worries." But today he wanted to share his mistress' concerns. She scratched his head and he started licking her hands. She wasn't looking at him, and her hands moved as disconnectedly as the frown on her forehead.
Minu stared straight ahead along the narrow mudpath that lead to the village's only well. She had to return on that road, but she couldn't imagine walking through all those voices which lined that path, like milestones, announcing every gory detail of that night. Every time she thought of forgetting that incident and living with him as if she had been his wife while he tore away at her clothes, and she rolled her head on the mud wall uttering a low moaning "No". She dug her nails into the sand hoping to bury that night when she nearly gave into him only to see his face above her and...
She grabbed a handful of sand and flung it into the well. She pulled herself up (her legs had grown numb) and stared into the well.
"You can't get to stay pure while I am thrown around like a rag doll for a dog to play with."
She flung some more sand at her "friend". She pushed the bucket in and threw in the rope. She tried to shake the wooden beam that held the pulley. She rattled it with all her might, while Viru kept barking. With all her might spent, and all her anguish dissolved in blood and sweat, she tried to lean against the beam to catch her breath. It finally gave way. Her "friend" spread her arms out.
So what is this book about? Its about a man following his calling. It's not about a man doing something and then preaching that to be the right thing to do in this world. It's not about judging other people's lives or one's own and feeling a pseudo-motivation to mimic such things. It's about a John Wood, who left Microsoft (and that is not such a big deal; there are many of them) because he wanted to create and be part of a revolution to bring education to the young children of this world. It's about a man utilising his Kellogg MBA for something other than investment banking and directing his years of education (in the classroom and on the field) towards education where it was needed the most. It's about a man doing something which he feels passionately about, the results and effects of which will be known only after several years/decades. That is a tough thing. Many people might jump into something whole-heartedly but are disappointed when they don't see results quickly. Undoubtedly, he had several contacts in the big-money world and it helped, but he will still have to wait to know the full impact of his passionate journey (beyond the peace it brings to him). Nope, you aren't going to get a book review here. You might have to wait for an issue of 
As the name goes, Navratri is all about what happens at night. The house would be well lit with lamps and the smell of sundal (a mostly-dry dish made of legumes) would fill the air. Ladies from all over the neighbourhood would come over and bring their daughters along (this is also why I liked the Navratris ;-). The girls would walk in in their fresh pattu pavadais (set of silk blouse and skirt) and look so devastatingly beautiful. Did you by any chance catch the advt. on the hoarding about the reversible pavadai? Wow! That kid looks so beautiful. I personally think pavadais were invented to make fathers and in general guys develop jelly knees! Anyway, so these lovely ladies and their mothers would walk in, admire the GP and all the arrangement and either sing or recommend that their daughters sing (which worked fine with me) some carnatic piece. This went on for 9 nights and everyday there was a different sundal at our place. I am not particularly a fan of sundal unless there is some element of spice in there. No, I am not talking about the girls.
The story had 2 things very appealing to me: it was about the travails of a writer in self-doubt(though not much was discussed about that) and it was set in (ummmmaaaaa) Italy! One thing disappointing was that there was very little of Ms. Forlani (isn't she pretty? And her eyes always seem to laugh whether her lovely lips give her away or not). Whatever there was, was of her in very short shirts and mostly bouncing away on her horses. I liked the lightly paced story and the very convincing portrayal rendered by Harvey Keitel (as the ex-writer Weldon Parish). Joshua is very cute and with that unshaven face, does appear quite sexy (if I may say so). The end was straight out of a fairy tale and goes as predictable as most movie endings go nowadays (am I becoming cynical?). I enjoyed the sunny settings and the very Italian way of living life (I still to find sufficient argument against my opinion that the best of life is packed in the boot shaped land). There are some light moments (like Joshua being thrown into the lake) but it was the dialogue towards the end that I liked (not all of them!). At one point, Weldon Parish says: "You don't choose an art, art chooses you." I liked it because I belong to the old school of thought. :-) I also liked the quite elegant way in which a father doesn't get possessive of his daughter and enjoys her move towards a man (as if that is the one of the most important things for which a daughter is raised).
Discovery Travel and Living is the best of channels I have ever watched. Nearly each and every show is spectacular, but there was one that caught my eye recently. I hate these American Idol, Indian Icon, Popstar of the Year kinda shows. It is outrightly annoying and such a sham. But this show on D-T&L called The Runway, is very interesting. For one it is about fashion designing and two, the judges are knowledgeable and clear in their decisions (unlike some judges on some shows who stick to being nasty and stupid and think that that is cool). They explain their judging criteria and methodology and I find that very impressive. Since I enjoy designing, I was able to follow the activities of the contestants and was able to reach a judgment on my own before the judges announced theirs. Our judgments matched and that made it appealing to my sensibilities. Its all about theme, stitch, cut, pattern and design. In short, its about work and not people's attitudes and how they respond when they fail and all that bullcrap. Very enjoyable show.
Cookery shows excite me like no woman does (sorry about that, ladies). The sheer colour, settings and the aroma (what? you can't smell it? :-O ) send me on a high. The shows on D-T&L take the cake but other shows (Zee and Star) are interesting too. I like the sets in which Kylie Kwong cooks. It is so correct for the dish that she prepares and you know she is passionate about the food that she cooks. Unfortunately a lot of it is non-veg, but is sufficient to roll me on my own adventures in the kitchen. One thing that these shows seem to tell me: Never cook by following instructions; let your heart flow. Works well with me! :-)
Have you felt the loveliness of a child's breath on your neck? Have you? You might then share the smile and joyous tears that the nebulous white shed in the sheer bliss of holding the Divine pair. Young thunderclouds flexed their bellies and stitched together frivolous tufts with the needle of the bolt in order to prevent the Pair from falling. The older scanty clouds smiled benevolently at the knowledge that falling and floating were but Divine will. Larks and hawks darted between the fingers of the Devil and the hawk fed on the slower bird on the palm of God. The Devil smiled and the hawk flew away with the remains. The blood mixed only with the rains of the younger clouds. The older clouds knew that none would remain through the distance of space and time to the rock hard earth and let the blood flow through.
She dragged her worn self across the ground and pushed the pile of washed clothes out of the basket near the door. There, under the clothes, lay a bright pumpkin. She clutched it to her breast. She dragged herself on her elbows and raised the pumpkin to his pocket. When she was just about to stuff it in, God blew the hair away from her face. Astonished at the amorous act of this beggar, she let the pumpkin slip. It fell into his pocket and tore it apart under its weight. Out spilled all the grain and vegetables that she had poured in generosity.