Easter puppies

This one was written when our first set of grandpuppies was born in April this year. I just couldn't gather the enthusiasm to put this up so far. Anyhoo...

Easter Sunday brought the best gifts I have ever received. I had called Phoebe into our bed in the early hours of the morning. She was panting heavily and I thought being with us would soothe her. I knew she would deliver soon, and was lazing in bed thinking of taking her for a round of pee so that she would be free to give birth. We woke to a wet spot on the bed, realizing that the first pup was on its way. By the time we could gather our wits, the boy was out and Phoebe had freed him of the cord. I barked instructions at the hubs to gather the supplies I should have kept ready in the first place. The mat and a bedsheet were placed on our bed just in time for the second one's arrival. It was a girl followed by another one. I called my animal-loving-soul-sister Apu to let her know that the most awaited event of this month was happening in my bed :P

Before the next one came, we moved Phoebe and the first-borns to her whelping area.
The fourth pup was a boy after which there was a gap in which Phoebe could rest a bit. Then came two girls in quick succession. Sadly, the sixth one was a stillborn. Phoebe licked it a lot trying to revive it, but it was clear that the pup probably never matured enough to be born alive. It was ghostly pale, as opposed to the others who were a very healthy shade of pink. We left the girl on a piece of paper on a table nearby. It took a while for the seventh one, a girl, to arrive, and Phoebe gladly had some water in the meantime. I had a hunch that the litter wasn't complete yet, so we stayed put in the whelping area. Soon enough, the last one arrived, another girl.

While the litter was making its way into this world, I kept helping Phoebe every chance I could... tearing off a couple of pups' protective sacs and helping them breathe. It just felt so... right. My girl did her job beautifully--tore off the sacs, cut the cord at just the right length, licked the pups clean and kept an eye out for intruders. Her instincts continue to amaze us. Mojo was pretty confused and kept popping in to quench his curiosity, but always remained at a cautious distance. The darling never troubled Phoebe in any manner. Maybe he dared not ;-)

When sufficient time had elapsed, I took Phoebe out for a walk, which was more like a mad dash to the road and back. She kept barking loudly at me, as if to tell me that we have to hurry. Maybe that's how they protect their young ones... by creating enough ruckus to ward off predators. She peed and pooped right in the middle of the street--quite unlike her--and ran back up the stairs at lightening speed.

I could have sat there all the time, but Apu called to say she was coming right over from Mumbai before she could even get home. Thanks to her, I gathered my wits, cleaned up a bit (thanks a bunch to the hubs for being so quick when it mattered, muuuuahh!) and even managed to have a bath in time. Apu and her husband could adore the pups only after Phoebe stopped barking in their face and settled down realizing that they meant no harm. Mojo had his fill of jumping around and running batshit crazy when they entered the door. This was the only time he got any attention that day. Except for the occasional appreciative nod and touch when hubs and I cooed over how non-nuisancy he was today.

I took Phoebe for a couple more poop-n-pee sprints, and then she had a few morsels of food at night, right beside the pups. Not being in that room was unbearable for her. Because the work week would begin the next day, I did not let hubs sleep in Phoebe's room. And rightly so. The little critters kept me up all night with their squealing. Although I did enjoy that too.

Drenched!

There wasn't a better way to say goodbye to the season of nourishment and get ready for a fresh start. Since childhood, I've always loved getting drenched in the rains. One of my oldest memories is of jumping about in my undies at my father's hometown, splashing water, and playing with my other kiddie cousins. As a teenager, I fell in love with the first rains of the season and would always be there on the rooftop terrace to welcome the monsoons.

After my mid-20s, however, I began distancing myself from the rains. I'd always find reasons to not go enjoy those first showers myself, and I'd be glad that the season was over. The months in between were just something to be put up with, and I made all kinds of excuses to avoid outdoor work. Since I started driving a car, I've hardly ever used my bike in the monsoons. Earlier, I would love to go for a ride when it was drizzling.

I've been longing to get back to that self who loved the rains, but I'd always find an excuse to not get soaked--something I completely enjoyed earlier. Finally, after 7 years, something snapped in me. It's the end of September and my neighborhood hadn't seen any rains in more than a week. Today, however, dark clouds gathered quite suddenly and it started pouring. A strong was flowing at the same time, and it cooled down the slightly warm air in the house. Before my brain could intervene with its usual nonsense, I scampered to the rooftop terrace and walked into the last showers of the season.

It was raining so heavily, I could barely see anything a few feet away. I walked around for half an hour or so, without shying away from the prickling cold, which paradoxically made me feel quite warm inside. I used to love this... being washed from head to toe by a shower from the sky, watching my palms and feet grow pale in reaction to the cold water, watching the goosebumps form on my skin and then subside, feeling a sense of calm descending on me as the water quietens the thoughts buzzing through my head... it's a happiness inducing experience! I had to control my grinning to avoid getting my insides washed with rain water :D

As the rain subsided, the thick clouds parted and the sky got ready to shimmer in its beautiful evening colors. The neighboring buildings were soaked and so were the neighboring hills. Water gushed into the rivulet that flows close by and large birds perched atop trees until they could fly again. It seemed like nature's way of reassuring us that everything's alright.

The first few pictures

... are here!

There's this coconut tree on the rear side of my apartment, and this colorful branch caught my eye when I was ambling in the balcony making sure that my pets drank water.

So I zoomed in and immediately made a desktop wallpaper out of it :D

A spring blossom I picked up on the way while walking my dogs. I placed it on my red leather wallet for a contrast-ish effect.

My Phoebe! How could I not capture the apple of my eye? The queen of our home? My only love at first sight, ever? (Take that, hubby! The only thing I felt when I laid my eyes on you for the first time was... wow... that's so much light entering the room! You were practically reflecting light with every square inch of your visible skin!)

That's Mojo in his playful pose, who mistook the camera for a toy and was ready to jump at me and wrestle it away.

Evenings in the neighborhood

I am fan of silver, not gold, but if nature splashes it across the horizon like that, I tend to change loyalties. It's breathtaking, this scene from my little neighborhood park. I wish I could sit there every evening, soaking in the beauty.

Memories at work

I happened to come across some old emails at work today, and some memories came rushing back. It felt nice, so I thought I'd share.

This woman, who was shooting emails at 4 in the morning (her time), whom I asked she what was doing at that hour:
"Trying to trap a feral cat that I’ve been feeding for three years. But she’s not cooperating. Then again, who are you to speak of early/late hours?! You seem to work around the clock!"
What she doesn't know is that I suck at time management. I while away my time surfing and then have to make up for lost hours. But then, when it's required, I don't mind working round the clock. It's the closest we IT folks can come to doing "hard work."

A colleague who was visiting India for the first time; I'm pasting quite a bit of the email because I think it's cute and funny:
"I’m planning on doing some sightseeing and shopping this Saturday and Sunday. If you’d like to accompany me, feel free to do so. However, don’t feel obligated to “baby sit” me. With the help of rickshaws, I’ve navigated the city rather well and am very comfortable exploring Pune by myself. (Remember, I’m an American and I’m not just saying that to be polite.)
Shopping: I’d like to return to Laxmi road and do a little shopping for friends and family. On this leg of my adventure, I would like some company (i.e., protection from the vendors). I don’t mind paying 1 or 2 times the cost (i.e., the Westerner’s tax/surcharge). I just don’t want to pay 20 or 30 times the cost. Plus, then I’d have to get a second job upon my return to [his hometown]

A colleague on his last day in the current organization:
"Time flies on the wings of light and now I am here to say adieu to all of you. It was a short association of xx months. Somehow I can’t align myself with what [company name] offers so I had to take this decision."
I liked the way he stated the reason--genuine and formal.

A colleague appreciating a work-related email I sent to someone we needed to keep in-the-loop and happy:
"Your response is perfect; thank you very much. :>"
My response to her (who I look up to and adore):
"Did I say I love you? Ok, there, you heard it. Now all I need is a hug. I’ve begun to have a headache juggling between blah-blah-blah."
She replies:
"Well, thank you! What a lovely way to start my day. :>
I’m sending you a virtual hug. Your day sounds like it was hectic; I hope you have a great weekend and get to relax!"
We frequently exchange such cross-continental energy hugs :) I'm truly blessed to know someone like her.

A senior manager who was about to move on from her current organization:
"I was hoping to have something wonderfully witty and wise to send to all of you, but, that has eluded me! Must have something to do with the aging process!"
Although I interacted with her for all of one hour, she came across as a very warm person. Also, she made time for nice activities besides work and regular life. Appreciated that.

From a US-based colleague who was visiting the local office:
"It’s movie time. I brought in all of the movies I have with me. If there is one in this list that you want to borrow, come see me."
Titled, "Get the popcorn," and she carried a good mix (La Vie En Rose, Capote, Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit, Shrek The Third, The Illusionist, Sweeney Todd, The Man Who Cried, Prime Suspect 3, The Namesake) that she shared with anyone who wanted... even the ones whom she didn't know well. It was pretty sweet of her.

A manager, asking us to keep in touch with another manager who was not keeping well:
"If you haven’t sent an email or note to Robin recently, she would really enjoy hearing from you. Just a note to say hi and that you’re thinking of her and miss her would be great."
This was very thoughtful and nice of her. And I'm really a jerk for not acting immediately on this reminder. I could have talked to "her" one last time! :(

And the last and most goose-bump-inducing, from Robin, when she was trying to diagnose what was ailing her:
"I expect our working relationship to remain the same and I continue to be here for what you need. I don’t expect you to require less of me."
That's how great she was!

Commuting is ok

... if you have such sights to distract you from incessantly cussing at the morons ahead of you or their ugly car decors or bumper stickers.

It's also the reason I don't repent buying an overpriced apartment. It's all about the location and the beautiful views it offers almost every day.

Oh, did I boast about the neighborhood yet? Here goes:

• NDA,
• Bombay-Bangalore Highway (NH4)
• HEMRL
• Bharat Electronics
• NIV
• DRDO
• Institute of Tropical Meteorology
• NCL
• CID Headquarters

... all within 3-5 kms from our house, and some enroute office.

All this, and no scientist or defence official in the family with whom I could gain entry for a peek inside these awesome organizations. Sigh!

Isn't it true international integration

... when dancers of African and north-east Asian origin
perform a Bollywood routine
choreographed by Californians of Indian origin
on an American TV show
produced and hosted by people of European origin (English, to be precise)
judged by English and American people
and cheered on by a bunch of Americans?

So You Think You Can Dance rocks! Thank you, Nigel.

(Yes, yes, I'm way behind the times... I'm watching season 4, which was aired way back in 2008, but which is being repeated on one of the channels only now. I can't even remember which cannel, 'coz hubby dearest has programmed it for recording, and we watch those at our convenience, skipping the adverts. BIG yay for Tata Sky+!!)

Also, in a way, the decked-up Katie reminds me of Effe.

On a side note: what do you do with a husband whom you've invited for a romp in the marital bed (like RNM says), but who prefers to watch a 2-hour session of the aforementioned program instead?

Encore

When we relocated to Pune two years back, I was overwhelmed, but it all eased out after that trip.

So, when the monsoon set in this year, we couldn't resist the temptation to do an encore. The last time, it was my uncle and I who introduced my hubs to this piece-of-heaven. This time, it was the hubs and I, passing on the experience to my friend gudiya. Oh, and to our pups. They mostly ran wild whenever their feet touched the ground, all those scents driving them crazy. We also managed to walk into a stream of sparkling water trickling from the hills. We sat on some stones there for a while, and then also took the pups in for a few minutes. They weren't particularly looking to run away, but were definitely not very comfortable in the chilly water.

This is where we made the first halt, just in case the pups wanted to do their business.

The view ahead was inviting.

Yes, I'm hiding behind the car. I don't want to traumatize you with a view of the rolls of fat.

Further ahead, we made a wrong turn, and went on to the road that joins Lonavala (where we had been a couple of times last year). Just as we were about to turn back, we noticed an open plain to the right of the road. We pulled over and prepared the pups to step out safely (put on their body-belts and harnesses).

That's gudiya entertaining them until we got the food ready.

From where we stood, this was towards the left

... a little further left

... straight ahead

... and to the right.

We went closer, and then I grabbed the camera from the hubs' hands.

He doesn't know how to take pictures with a better perspective, and he won't take any free advice. Did I have a choice? Look at that valley. Isn't that more interesting that the plateaus above? :P

There was a ridge right across, and many tiny waterfalls, or springs, if you may.

A gorge across the valley.

Gudiya was clicking away on her Sony camera-phone, while the hubs kept the pups from falling off the nearby cliff.

After feeding the pups (and making sure at least one of them peed and pooped) we turned back to our previous destination--Tamhini ghat. It was another 10 kilometers from the point where we took the wrong turn, but we were in no hurry to get back. We drove up to the point from where the road winds down the mountain into further towns and villages.

That's the sun-kissed landscape

... as seen from here :)

On the way back, we halted at a new shack for snacks. After being stuffed with kaanda-bhaji and chai, the hubs refused to drive. So it was me at the wheel for the entire 150-km trip that lasted 7 hours. But I ain't complainin', baby!

Attempts to focus

...at work are bound to fail when you have AR Rahman's music playing through your headphones. It wants to make you hum along, it makes you want to dance with abandon, you begin to grin like a fool (at the awesome sound effects), your fingers automatically leave the keyboard and start tapping other objects around you, and then you end up getting weird looks from coworkers or passers by.

What's more, all thoughts about crappy product defects and their even crappier descriptions simply seem untouchable and you feel silly about wanting to be at your desk in the first place. All motivating thoughts that you've brainwashed yourself with... the ones about how you like your job, how essential it is to be proactive, innovative, and that you should strive to work better than you worked yesterday... all go down the proverbial drain.

Sigh! Could someone please pay me to simply listen to the genius?

And for the record... I think the Jay Ho / Slumdog Milllionaire score is nothing when compared to Roja, Bombay, Taal, Lagaan, Saathiya, ... What about an Oscar for each of these?

Like TMM or someone else said on her blog (can't find the exact post), our medicore is their best??!

'Twas time to Goa

...this past weekend, with very little planning. If I ignore the fact that I had arranged for my mom to come there from Bangalore by train a couple of days before and stay on after we left (which included booking a bus ticket and then canceling it and then booking the train tickets). And also the fact that my uncle wanted to join us but had to let it pass, because he had to report to work, which is why my aunt could tag along. Her son was supposed to join us, but declined at the last moment (although he wanted us to pay for his fuel so that he could ride his bike alongside us; bugger). Anyway, we surfaced calmly from all that confusion and hit the road at 2:00 pm on Friday.

We were to follow our neighbor M, who has a home in Goa that he visits frequently. The dude being an ex-airforce person, was probably finding it difficult to restrain himself at ground speed. Which is what I offer as explanation for his Hyundai Getz (1086 cc) being unfollowable by our Maruti Alto (796). Or it could be that his is the Prime make (1341 cc) which is way beyond what we can dream of beating. (Of course I want a better car now! Not larger, just better. Something like Maruti Estillo would do--although I hated its shape initially.) The bugger would hit the brake in traffic and then zoom away in microseconds while we only kept hoping that our little car would pick up enough speed in time to spot him while he navigates the next turn. We didn't see him for about 150-200 kms, which is a little less than half the journey.

To spice things up a bit, I dropped hubby's phone while we made the first halt for tea. Someone spotted that, picked up the phone and rang the last dialed number. It turned out to be my aunt's who was with us. We didn't mind waiting for half an hour for the blessed soul to come by and hand the phone over to us. Hubby was fuming, a tad mildly, but all was soon forgotten, because we HAD TO keep M in sight. Soon after the sunset we left the highway and turned to the villages-and-ghats section of the road. It was pitch dark in a few minutes, and the absence of street lights made it even more difficult. But that was for M, not for us. All we had to do was switch off our brains and pursue him. I was struggling to not let any other vehicle come in between us, because if we missed him for about 4 seconds and he took a turn before we saw him, we'd be lost in the wilderness for good. The network coverage wasn't too good obviously, so he couldn't reach us if he noticed that we were no longer at his tail.

M must have been zooming past 90 kmph on those treacherous roads, because I often had to push beyond 80 to keep up with him. However, I was enjoying the ordeal thoroughly, and so were hubby and my aunt. We were entertaining ourselves with stories and jokes about other people, because we didn't have to give a dang about whether we were going in the right direction. M was our God at the moment. Anyway. We reached Vasco, our destination, around 10:45 pm, and had to part ways because M's home was in a slightly different direction. I went ahead for about 3 kms and noticed a certain building that made me jump. I had no visual memory, but the name struck me as something I heard from my childhood stories that my aunts keep narrating every few months. I immediately knew where we were and where we had to go. In another 20 minutes we were home, luggage and all.

We spent the night at our old landlord's place (where I lived as a child). It was a bad night for me, because the mosquitoes attacked me like they were my soulmates from a past life. What else could it be? They left the rest of the people in the house alone! Grrr.

So. Morning dawned and we had some more conversations with our host about our memorable stay there, more than two decades back. It mostly consisted of my pranks and how I thought I ruled the place. We then headed out to explore whatever we could, without being baked in the sun. Here are some pictures...

A small island, a few hundred feet from the main road that exits Vasco.

A common view around the shoreline villages.

Another larger island, about a kilometer away from the previous one.

This was connected by road, possibly built by the Portuguese missionaries (notice the church to the right), which is being restored now. This is also where we had our first and only interaction with a local drunkard. He approached us asking if we wanted to go see the church. The stench was overwhelming, and his became more aggressive by the minute. We had to shoo him away. He followed us all the way back to our car that was parked on the main road!

We headed to Old Goa, looking for the church where St. Francis Xavier's remains are located. We found a spot to park, but the first thing we noticed was a Wax Museum nearby. It's created and owned by a software engineer as a hobby. With no other funding, it is managed by the owner himself (I wonder how), possibly with the money that comes in through exhibitions (which means expenses to move the statues between cities) and sales of candles and other stuff.

A nice map of the world heritage site where the centuries old churches are located.

The Bom Jesus church.

The statue of St. Francis Xavier inside.

From the pews. Hordes of tourists were thronging in, and I was enraged at the way people were behaving. A lot like what MM wrote in this post. Seriously, all that is expected of you in a church is silence and respect, if you can't give that, why bother entering a place of worship?

The atrium of the church, which was turned into a beautiful little garden with very cute sprinklers. I mean the sprinklers were okay, but their jets flew out beautifully. Notice the large bell at the top--no access to it now.

The flowering trees outside the church. There was a little market beyond, where I bought some cute bracelets. Beside it was a restaurant, which was full of people and almost void of stewards. We reluctantly ordered some food, because we didn't know where we could get anything edible before we ran out of energy. After a painfully long wait, we ate whatever was served, without thinking much. All the while, I was trying to suppress my embarrassment caused by my mom staring are the almost bare foreigners and young locals. It was so hot outside, I wish I'd lose some clothes too.

After lunch, we headed to this district called Ponda, which houses the Mangeshi temple. Mom and aunt went ahead to the main temple, while and a hubby sat in the cool shade of another small adjacent temple. The journey was interesting. We missed a turn just before every destination, and had to turn back a few hundred meters to reach the correct spot. But it was fun! We even had sugarcane juice before we went to the wax museum!

Once the temple visit was done, we headed southwards to find the Colva beach. We had bought a map as soon as we headed out in the morning, and were doing a great job of navigating with its help, except for spots that weren't marked clearly. It was the best me and hubby ever coordinated at driving.

As we entered the Colva beach...

A closer look.

The speedboat was towing paragliders and zoomed away.

Hubs and I were sooooooo excited, and we jumped at the opportunity to do some paragliding. The sun ahd gone down by the time we went up, so we couldn't get a great view, but it was fun. That's me returning from the flight.

A fleeting parachute.

We walked along the shallow coast for a while, ignoring the life gaurds' announcements asking everyone to stay clear of the waters past sunset. Then we lay on the sand for a bit, while mom and aunt had a little nap. We were exhausted by the time we reached home, but we all enjoyed the Baskin' and Robbins ice-cream we took along for our host.

Hubs and I woke up at 5:00 the next morning, changed and rushed to the nearest beach--Bogmalo. It was still dark, and we tentatively stepped into the water, a bit scared when waves crashed loudly and unexpectedly. We were surprised at the warmth of the water and then spent the next hour or so walking in knee-deep water along the shore. Once the sun came up and lit the waters and people started trickling in, we locked the car keys into our finger rings and dived in. To put it in hubs' words, for the next hour or so, we were experiencing weightlessness. That lasted only until the moment we decided to walk out of the water. Then, we were almost drooped with the weight of the seawater in an on us. Needless to say, I involuntarily gulped in a few sips of water through my nose when a couple of unexpected waves pulled me in. The fun part was the feeling of being pushed and pulled by the huge waves--this particular beach was deeper than Colva--you just had to walk in about 7 or 8 feet to be fully immersed.

When we felt a bit satisfied with all the soaking and sinking, and it was time to return, we dried ourselves by the car. Hubby changed in a lonely spot, but I was too impatient to change. So I warpped the front seat with plastic and drove us home. We had to rush through bath and breakfast so we could move on to the next destination: Panaji. Our next hosts were the landlady's son and his family. They live in a prime area of Goa's capital amidst bungalows of politicians and rich people in general. Their own bungalow is pretty well done. I'd posted one of its pictures earlier. Upon reaching there, we spent a while indoors, chit-chatting, and then left for the Dona Paula beach.

It was a bad decision. It was sweltering hot outside, and we spent 20 minutes finding a space to park. To top it, there was no direct access to the water. People could only walk up and down a ramp. As soon as I parked, I bathed in the sunscreen lotion, but I think it had an adverse effect. I felt my skin burning more than ever. Nevertheless, the little market distracted me, and I ended up buying a couple of trousers.

The view on one side of the beach... there were lots of speedboat riders.

The pier with the tiny market on it. It must look lovely in the evenings with all those lights on.

The other side of the pier... so calm, and void of people!

We learned from that experience and headed straight home, abandoning the plan to visit another beach before lunch. It felt so nice to change into cooler clothes and spread out on the sofas and watch TV for while. After a while we had lunch and then napped. It was 5:30 pm by the time we freshned up, had tea, changed and stepped out again. Not such a good time to leave, because it took us about an hour to reach the next beach: Vagator. Our host led us through roads where we saw signposts for almost all north-Goa beaches but went towards none. We thought he was about to take us back home after showing only the signposts. That's when we turned in to the parking lot of the Vagator beach.

This one was shallow, like Colva, and we'd reached there a few minutes after sunset. With no enthusiasm left for clicking pictures, all we did was walk amidst knee-deep water. Then we stood rooted to a spot for a long time, trying to see how long it would take for us to be sucked into the earth, due to the sand beneath our feet being carried away with each wave. In about 1o minutes I was a foot underground. Then, for a while, I let people go their own way and stole a few minutes for myself to talk to the powers that be--for a safe trip so far, a comfortable stay, and the great time hubby was having.

We decided to dine outside, and went to the Delhi Durbar restaurant on M. G. Road. (I just looked it up. We're just not ready to go beyond M. G., C. S., J. N., and I. G., are we? [Only Indians will understand what I'm talking about; if you are one, and if you don't, well, I can simply conclude that you were extremely poor at History. :P]) The food was okay and our hosts were urging us to have more, all the while stuffing themselves. That was the only point where I had to control my sarcasm and not point out how they really needed to eat less, and leave us alone--as it is we are carrying an average teenager's extra weight as a couple (meaning, between me and hubs, we have about 25-30 kilos extra).

Anyway, I also picked up a bottle of port wine (Vini Cola) for a friend, before we turn to go back home. On the way, we made a pit stop at Miramar beach, just to fill up our quota of beaches, and because the night air was so tempting. It was another couple of hours before we actually got to sleep. There was a lot of confusion of who would sleep where, because the house had only two bedrooms and there were 11 of us. We ended the bedlam by taking over the hosts' master bedroom because that would help us wake up early the next day without diturbing the others.

Republic day (Jan 26) dawned without any feeling that remotely resembled what it used to be 20 years ago, and it has been so ever since I finished school. We were ready in time, but spent a few minutes longer bidding farewell to our hosts. I was in a hurry to get us out of the city and onto the highway as soon as possible. Our target was to cross half the distance by noon or earlier. We wasted about 20 kms (and 30 mins) looking for a petrol pump, but that didn't deter us from achieving the target. The drive was almost as good as the one where we followed M. Aunt and hubby took turns sleeping in the backseat, while I enjoyed my time behind the wheel.

We stopped only once, at the Amboli ghat, for breakfast--wada paav, kaanda bhaji, and chai. Here's how the moutainside on our right looked.

Here's the valley on the other side. The roads were winding and steep, and there was average oncoming traffic. I noticed all vehicles from MH01 through MH15, except MH05, and then some (those are registration number prefixes for the Maharashtra state, where each series represents about 259974 vehicles)!

We crossed a distance of about 460 kms in 8 hours. Luckily, we noticed a Mc Donald's drive-in on the highway and picked our lunch from there. I was stuffing my face with a Mc Veggie, fries, and coke, while speeding between 90-110 kmph--not an ideal thing to do, but then I was never a good girl. It was good to have a fun and confident-in-me aunt and a cool as a cucumber (read who-isn't-crazy-about-driving-and-prefers-his-comforting-pillows) husband, who never bothered me even once with such lame instructions as "slow down" or "watch out" or "don't overtake." Bless their souls! The even switched seats (aunt moved to the backseat and my almost-6-ft hubby moved to the passenger seat beside me) inside the 4 ft tall car, while I was speeding at 80 kmph on the highway!! They totally rock.

Special note to hubby: mmmmmmmuuuuuuuuuuuaaaaaaahhhh!!

100th post in a special guest's honor

Ta-daaaaaaaa!

Presenting Jaanu. My (not-so)-little-(any-longer) cousin Shaanu's newborn.

Arrived at 10:05 pm on Jan 15th, 2009. After making her mother run out of water (literally)!

I was sooooooo eager to see her perfect little fingers. I always knew she'd have beautiful hands!

I almost had them up my nose trying to ogle at those gorgeous nails... sigh!