Coolly forgetful

For the past couple of weeks, the workday ended anywhere between 03:30 and 07:00.

Not that I couldn't work through the day, but there would be several interactions with people, and I prefer to address dependencies before getting onto my own tasks. That way, no other work gets blocked or I don't become a bottleneck for a bunch of tasks. The first thing I'd do in the morning, around 11:00-12:00 is check for messages with barely one eye open, rub them both open if there was anything useful/interesting, stretch a bit, get out of bed and into the shower--instead of walking around the house and looking for chores or some tidying up to do as has been my habit--and then have a leisurely meal while watching some stand up comedy--or some subscribed YouTube channels, note my gratitude in the journal, and then get to work between 13:00-14:00.

No matter what, I'd step out for cycling or a walk at sunset and come back when I felt contented with the activity I chose to do. Then, supper over watching some videos again, a little bit of Kalimba or coloring, some more writing, and then back for the night shift.

The milestone for which this routine was being followed was achieved on Monday, and I thought it would take me a couple of days to rest and reset my body clock.

However, I was so calm, content, and clear-headed throughout this period of focused, critical work, that my mind/body didn't need any recuperation. Achieving the milestone gave me a teensy bit of a high and that night I was in bed by 11:30! Even though I actually fell asleep somehwere around 01:00, I opened my eyes around 05:40, and felt fresh enough to go for a walk. After 4 kms of that, I was bored, and so I went cycling again for another 12 kms and returned a happy puppy.

Had my leisurely breakfast, watched some more standup, journalled, and got to a few more hours of focused work. My cousin came over to stay for a day, and we spent the next nine hours chattering away like monkeys. When he went to sleep, I instinctually logged on, and there was just enough work for me do be able to quickly and happily finish. Thereafter, I slept for seven hours, which was the longest in two weeks. Since the cuz was around, there was no plan to work in the morning. We chattered some more as I cooked/cleaned and we had brunch. Then it was nap time, after which I logged on and did a bit of work. Later, the power went off and didn't return for a few hours. I doodled a bit, but the outdoors had been calling out to me since the morning.

So, I got my sippy bottle ready, the batteries for the safety lights were fully charged the previous day, and all I needed to do was get on the cycle and go as far as I felt like. Instead, as I started off on the road, I remembered that I hadn't worn the scarf that serves as a face mask, so I went back for it. As I entered the house, I remembered that the power bank was discharged too, so I decided to use the outing today to get that and my cellphone charged, and maybe even work a little, while they got charged at my other house, where there's an inverter backup. I happily wrapped everything in plastic, slung my bag on the shoulders and stepped out, only to realize, yet again, that I had forgotten the scarf. This time, I felt like all was well until about four kilometers later when I realized that I had forgotten the water bottle. Thankfully, it was raining and I can anyway go about 20-25 kms, even on a dry day, before I feel like I should hydrate myself. I let the music in my ears wash away that minor irritation at my forgetfulness and pedalled on happily for another 4-5 kms. As the street lights came on, I realized that I had forgotten to strap the charged portable lights onto the bike. More eyerolling-at-self happened, but the weather was so good, I didn't feel like indulging in any more self-flaggelation.

17 kms later, thoroughly drenched, I was asking the STOBEH to lay a plastic sheet down on the sofa-chair for me to sit on as I worked while the devices were being charged. He asked me to change instead, and so, this time, instead of being a smartass--and remembering the scatterbrainedness from earlier--I had a nice shower, cleaned all the dirt from the clothes and the bag, and sat down to chat with him for a bit. Attempted some work, but by then, the laptop's battery had drained, and in all my awesomeness, and I had forgotten to bring along its charger. I also complained but my mouse's broken scroll button, so he gave me the one he doesn't use, except for gaming on his laptop. Bless his heart, poor fella, he not only tolerates me randomly showing up at his door, he also indulges me when I ask for help (which is rare, btw, and I've done enough to balance it out).

I gave up all pretense of being awesome, and we decided to watch Angrezi Medium instead. Such a disappointment considering it's precursor, Hindi Medium. An hour of watching with intermittent forwarding later, we gave up. I wrapped up my Duolingo and MemRise practice, and then thought of noting all of this here. You know, just to remind my future self of all the delusions I have about my coolness and to keep myself grounded in the reality of my forgetfulness. So there.

That doesn't mean I can't share some World Cycling Day swag, though...

Even though I didn't know that it was that day while I was cycling. I am totally cool with cherry picking what days to celebrate and what days to be a Grinch about.

Vacation week 2 of 3 (old draft--2010!)

(Continued: Dec 2010 - Jan 2011)

...turns me into a bleddy housfrau--no offense to anyone--just not what a vacation is supposed to be.

Monday:

1. Walked the dogs and fed them.
2. Prepared breakfast and cleaned up afterwards.
3. Apartment-complex-related activities:
   1. Called up auditor and gave inputs about previous fiscal year's transactions.
   2. Visited the bank for updating the passbook and inquiring about fixed deposit renewal.
   3. Informed members about ongoing and pending tasks.
4. Bought oranges on the way back from the bank--special note because we never remember to buy and consume fruits regularly--ate one and left the peels to dry so that I can powder them to use as flavoring or body scrub.
5. Walked the dogs.
6. Washed and dried bedsheets.
7. Washed utensils.
8. Cooked dinner and cleaned up afterwards.
9. Prepared a home-remedy for cold / cough / fever, which the ungrateful husband refused to drink because it might not taste good.
10. Warmed water and stored in a flask to drink during the night--otherwise our jaws go into shock thanks to the cold that seeps into the water.

Tuesday:

1. Prepared breakfast and cleaned up afterwards.
2. Walked the dogs and fed them.
3. Washed utensils.
4. Washed the oily dog-food container.
5. Washed and dried doormats.
6. Apartment-complex-related activities:
   1. Visited the bank to apply for a new cheque book and give instructions about fixed deposit renewal.
   2. Looked through documents for further information about previous fiscal year's transactions, and informed the auditor.
   3. Informed members about the status of tasks.
7. Refueled the car for use until it's taken away for servicing.
8. Called up mom to fix a date and time for taking her to a place about 30 kms out of town that she wants to visit. Called up other aunts who might want to tag along. Called up hubs to ask about his birthday plans--obviously, he has none, he isn't even sure whether he wants the day off.
9. Walked the dogs.
10. Cooked dinner and cleaned up afterwards.
11. Warmed up aforementioned home remedy. Yet, no sign of hubs' readiness to consume it.
12. Warmed water and stored in a flask to drink during the night.

Wednesday:

1. Cleaned up after breakfast.
2. Fed the dogs.
3. Washed utensils.
4. Cleaned veggies to be cooked for dinner.
5. Checked work-related emails and responded to important ones. (This one turned out to be a source of much happiness. You shoulda seen me skipping away for the next activity.)
6. Walked the dogs.
7. Investment activities for hubs and self:
   
   1. Researched existing documents about investments, called up concerned customer care representatives, planned to submit necessary documents tomorrow.
   2. Called up dad to find out about available investment options and planned to submit the necessary amount and documents tomorrow.
8. Walked the dogs.
9. Cooked dinner and cleaned up afterwards.
10. Warmed water and stored in a flask to drink during the night.

Thursday:

1. Prepared sev-puri (a chaat variant) for hubs (with some ready-to-use ingredients, of course) as a birthday breakfast treat. Yes, we have no concept of appropriate food for any meal.
2. Cleaned up after breakfast.
3. Walked and fed the dogs--this includes waiting on them until they gobble up most of it and leave the rest on a whim, then add more meat for flavoring, so that they find it interesting enough to finish, then pat them and appreciate them for being kind enough to eat what was served.
4. Washed clothes used for cleaning / dusting in the kitchen.
5. Spent 4 hours preparing investments-related documents for submission at various offices.
6. Checked work-related emails and responded to important ones.
7. Walked the dogs.
8. Prepared paav-bhaaji for hubs as a birthday dinner treat (called a cousin over to help and also enjoy the feast--it's rare that I'm in a mood to cook something special). Also presented to him with flourish the chocolate cake I bought in the afternoon. Don't accuse me of being boring, people. I wanted to buy a nice, colorful fruit-cake, but they didn't have any at Monginis. Besides, the husband's a girl when it comes to chocolates. So I thought I'd keep him happy. It's his birthday after all.
9. Cleaned up after dinner.
10. Walked the dogs.
11. Warmed water and stored in a flask to drink during the night.

Washed cleaning / dusting cloth used in the kitchen.

I don't understand Monday morning blues

After a nice long weekend wanting-to-do-lots-but-actually-doing-very-little-yet-not-feeling-too-bad-about-it, I woke up as the clock struck 7:00. Except it didn't really strike anything. It didn't even chime. It must have been a sweet time in the past when grandfather clocks announced the hour of the day or when the little sparrow (or cuckoo) peeped out of a fancy clock's window and tweeted the time. Sigh! I digress.

The first thing I felt was happiness at being awake at an early hour. I wanted to walk Mojo and Phoebe before the sun started beating down on us earthlings, and this was just the right time. Then I noticed that I was lying with my head at the wrong end of the bed, my feet propped up on my pillows. I don't remember when that happened! Many a time, even if I am dreaming, I am aware of the fact that I'm dreaming. But last night must have been something. I don't remember how or when I drifted off to sleep (the hubs kindly filled me in with seemingly innocent comments about how the arm he rested on me vibrated each time I snored). Anyhoo.

The day began on a good note. I can't understand people who are 'not morning people'. It's a little strange to me how someone can not feel elated at being able to rise and shine with the sun. What I also fail to understand is why people often complain about Monday morning blues. I love going to work. Maybe I'm one of the few people who enjoy their jobs. But if your job is so much of a pain in your butt, why not do something about it? It's not like I've never felt the blues... I did, at times, when the work pressure was too much and some unreasonable tasks were expected of me... but how can a person feel blue on every Monday morning. How miserable could someone's life be?

If you were looking for a point, I'm sorry, there wasn't any that I was trying to make. Just typing out something that was going through my mind. Succumbing to the silly need to express myself. Just cuz I can. Meh. Get on with your day, folks. I hope you didn't waste your time reading upto this point.

Feeling all grown up (and amused at it!)

When I slept after midnight, I was groaning to myself that I won't be able to work out what I had planned for the next day. Although I don't know how it happened, I woke up at 7:00, and felt like sleeping in only for a few minutes before my brain took over and I sprung on my feet and got cracking. Maybe it was sound sleep that made me feel rested, and maybe it was reading The Hobbit to the hubs that gave me the sound sleep I needed. But I was glad I didn't spend any time complaining to myself and trying to stay in bed.

I freshened up, opened all the windows--an activity I love to do in the mornings--to left the cool, fresh air in, walked the dogs, bathed myself, paid the milkman, cleaned up a bit while boiling milk, and closed all the windows again so that the hot summer doesn't turn the house into an oven. I updated the sleepy hubs on the status so far and gave him instructions about the stuff to do (or not) next. Then it was time for the most important activity of the day: dropping off my new two-wheeler for its first free servicing. I wasn't keen on doing it because I didn't want to walk any distance at all in the sun. But a nice idea hit me when I reached the service station. By the time the attendant looked at other people's bikes, I walked down home and fetch the car. I reached just in time for the attendant to check my bike and hand me the job card.

I zoomed off to work and was happy to reach at my favorite hour... right before breakfast is served. My favorite activity is to set myself up at a nice, cozy corner table, switch on my laptop and get on with my day. During my first few days at the new job, I sometimes used to stay put in the cafeteria until it was lunch time and the smells of various food items pissed me off, or the laptop battery was almost completely drained. In any case, almost half my day would have passed pleasantly. It felt nice to do that again... in the past few weeks, I've had to change my work timings so that I could go play badminton on my way back home. But I've begun to think that maybe working in 2 shifts with a break in between is a good idea, and the drive home and back would be worth it. But I can never seem to stick to any kind of routine.

Anyway, getting so much done simply by springing out of bed early in the morning makes me feel all happy inside. And grown up, if I may add. Yep. I still find it surprising when I act all mature even though it's expected of me now that I'm in my 30s.

PS: It gladdened me to see a fresh bunch of flowers in the little garden patch. Who knew that the simple white bloom of Vinca can be such perfect metaphoric accomplice to the beginning of my bright day?!

Apologies

It's been so long since I posted anything here that it feels a bit weird typing text into this UI. However, the apologies are not for that. Also, for a change, this is not a sarcastic post.

To the girl in the white burqa/hijab with the gray floral print who was driving a black scooter on F C Road yesterday,

I apologize to you yet again for my mistake. I intended to park next to Wadeshwar, and because the most efficient way to parallel-park a car is to do it in reverse, I halted close to other vehicles parked on the right. Being totally focused on getting to the spot before the traffic started flowing again from the signal at my rear, I made a mistake. I reversed the car before thoroughly checking the rear view mirrors. Thankfully, neither you nor I were fast enough, and I stopped the moment I realized that the rear left fender of my car had hit the front bumper of your scooter. It took me a few seconds to make sense of what happened and realize that I had to immediately move forward to help you regain control over your vehicle. I did so, got out of the car, and tried to repair the damage that I had done. It seemed to me like your scooter had not toppled over and that you were standing straight, which meant that you were apparently not seriously injured. I helped pick your bags off the road and placed them on your footboard, and I wanted to do more.

I hope that by now your shock and anger has subsided and you are ready to hear me out. I apologized then too, but you were in mood to pay any heed. Had I been in your situation, I would have felt the same things about you and said the same things to you... "Why do you drive if you can't reverse? You should simply stay off the road, etc" However, you said something to the effect of "An apology is of no use, it doesn't change anything." That got my goat. I totally disagree. I knew what my mistake was, and I had to decency to acknowledge it and apologize for it. In addition, I came over to find out the consequence of my action... Were you hurt? Could I help you get medical attention? Did I break something? Could I get it repaired for you?

Had you given me a chance, I would have done all in my power to undo the wrong that I did. However, you and I were both in a bit shock (you, understandably more than me) and tempers flew high. I have seen people who do not even bother to get out of their effing car and try to find out what their mistake has cost others. I surely didn't give off any such arrogant vibes. Not even remotely. However, when you yelled at me even after I profusely apologized and helped you gather your stuff and offered to do more, I got ticked off too. I did argue that I made a mistake and that it could have happened with you too, but it was more to get you calm down and try to establish a dialog rather than for the sake of arguing. It definitely didn't help, did it?

Then, because you didn't seem to need or want any help from me and because you were putting up a fight even against my apologies, I stormed off and got back into my car. Did you notice that I waited patiently until you moved away (still yelling at me) and I could continue with my task without harming anyone else? I'm sure you didn't.

What's the purpose of writing all this here? Well, I hope that you shared your story with someone and somehow someone you know gets to read this and lets you know about it. I pride myself on my driving skills and feel ashamed at the mistakes I make. I do try to learn from them and not repeat them. However, like everyone else, I am not and will never be perfect. So, I do the best that I can. Apologize for my mistakes and try to undo the wrong that I might have done.

I wish we had met in a better situation. We might even be friends. Inspite of the fact that it was all directed against me, I liked that your were spirited and didn't take things lying down. Also, unlike me, you were feisty without being abusive (at least I don't remember any cuss words being used). You remind me of my dear friend Noor, and not just because your attire indicated that you are a Muslim. I could totally picture her giving a piece of her mind to someone who had wronged her! Anyway. For what it's worth, I hereby record my apology and wish that the incident doesn't linger on in your mind. Also hoping that you weren't hurt, and if you were, you do recover soon.

Regards,
Simply Pallu

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.

Setting off the sabbatical

I wrote this post in April when I quit my job, but I haven't had the inclination to upload it yet. So here goes...

The perfect beginning that didn't last

I doubt that many will understand this, but I was thrilled to wake up at 6:30 on a Saturday morning! It was just way I wanted my sabbatical to begin. I was so excited to be up at the time that the temptation to snuggle in did not even form completely in my mind. I thought of getting dressed and going for a walk, but my feet were hurting like they do on most mornings since several months now. So, I sauntered into the other bedroom and did some stretches in my night dress with the ceiling fan on full blast. I don't like getting sweaty right after I'm out of bed, but that's the big downside of exercise. Just one of my excuses for not getting into a healthy morning routine.

I was tempted to doze off again after the stretching and so I lay down on the floor, relaxing. Instantaneously, my dogs woke up and came barging from the bedroom sniffing and jumping over me. I took the cue, changed, and took them for a walk. We left the neighborhood and walk alongside the main rood today, and they were unexpectedly well-behaved. They didn't pull constantly, and I could control them with my voice and a few tugs at their leashes. We even saw a pack of puppies on the way, and one of them walked up to us ready to play but then chickened out suddenly. It was nice to see 'em all and their mum looking over her shoulder protectively. After we got home, though, we went to wake up dada, but snuggled in instead, like we always do, falling prey to his powers of sedation.

At this point, I succumbed to weariness and stopped writing. Didn't catch on for more than a week after. Through the first week at home, several things kept me busy, including lazing around and watching TV.

Come Sunday, the enthusiasm of waking up early and attempting to start and continue an exercise regime went right outta the window. I spent the morning gathering our apartment-related documents so that I could hand them over to the next office bearer. We had an annual general meeting planned for the evening. It went surprisingly well, and lasted only a little over two hours. I was the Secretary of the apartment association, but happily gave up the position in the hope that other members would take up the responsibility. The guy who was President gave up his position too, which surprised people. At least they said so.

Throughout the working week, hubs ran off to work as early as he could and came back as late as he could. Bugger's been taking advantage of me being at home to work longer hours. Not that I mind. I think he can use this opportunity to do some good work and get noticed. He's had to put in a fixed number of hours over the past two years so that I could work flexi-time and longer hours, and make multiple trips to the office if required. It worked for us, because my commute was almost half of his and I had to maneuver through only half the traffic. Also, the car was always at my disposal and I have been taking undue advantage of it. Sigh!

On Tuesday, I took Phoebe to the vet for an ultrasound, and we came to know that she had at least 6 pups in there. I've been waiting for their arrival all through the week. The same evening, hubs and I went to see a new pooch in the neighborhood. A girl who used to have a Dalmatian but gave him away because she couldn't manage to take care of him, has now brought home a month-old Rottweiler. Apparently her husband got cured of his dog aversion and wanted one that belonged to a big strong breed. It was a fun half an hour, where we let Bullet (yep, that's his name, but just "Bull" would suffice if you ask me... he's strong!) scamper around between our feet and over our heads, lick our faces, and chew our fingers and ears.

During the rest of the week, I did some cleaning up around the house, organized some documents, went grocery shopping, cleared the spare bedroom and created a whelping area for Phoebe. Took the dogs out on several short sprints, off the leash. I was too lazy to walk them around the usual track, and besides, they enjoy the freedom.

Good Friday morning was spent at me mum-n-dad's, where I clubbed a few things in one trip: I had to carry some warm clothes and tiffins for mom to carry during her upcoming old-ladies-gang trip to Kashmir. She had prepared my favorite food item. My dear friend Meg was in town for the weekend and we wanted to catch up. I had to drop mom off to granny's on our way back. Pawan was ok to be dragged around town and dumped at mama's place while I met Meg ;-)

Saturday was spent at home, zombie-watching TV. Except when I went to the bank and tried to check email. My internet connection played hooky through the week. Phoebe had began panting in the afternoon and continued through the night.

The uh-oh moment

... happened today.

People who are squeamish about animals or sex or a combination of both should stop reading at this point. You have been warned.

Phoebe (and thereby) Mojo have been in heat since the past two weeks. Prior to this, we used to put one of them in the crate on a rotating schedule so as to avoid accidents. Actually, that's quite unnecessary, because Phoebe is quite invincible... if I ever have a daughter, I want her to be strong and capable of defending herself like my bitch here ;-) In fact, we had to (you know, er...) help them conceive just a few months back.

These past couple of weeks, however, we have managed to keep them apart by just yelling at Mojo and threatening him. Also, it helped that Phoebe bared her teeth at him and also bit him at times. Yeah, we're twisted like that... we find that better compared to having to put them in the crate and get them out every hour or so.

Anyhoo. We're grateful that they sleep through the night without us having to sleep with them in separate rooms like we did before. This morning, as has been the routine for the past 3-4 days, we woke up to the cacophony that ensues when Mojo tries to screw Phoebe. (Squeamish folks, I told you so!) By the time I could go grab Mojo and push him out of the room or onto his bean bag, he'd mounted (I can't believe I'm using that word... the last time I used it, it was as a Linux / UNIX command) Phoebe. We thought of pulling him off but couldn't risk separating him from his (er...) little Mojo. Talk about making split-second decisions!

So it happened that for the next 20 minutes or so, we sat in bed contemplating the consequences of the recent events, while they gradually moved all over the room stuck at the base. Literally. Thankfully, after the first few seconds, there aren't any pelvic thrusts involved in this graphic sequence. (Any prudes reading so far? You've shown exceptional courage. Now go away.) At some point, Phoebe got tired of standing and decided that she wanted to sit in the bean bag. So she did. Mojo realized that he had no option but to accommodate her if he wanted to continue having his way with her. He was done a few minutes later, and I hurried to wash the bean bag clean. Talk about parenting.

The rest of the morning passed by peacefully, with Mojo banished to the crate, and without us bringing up the topic that we ruminated over individually. After the hubs went to work, I called up the vet, gave him the details of the events that transpired, and asked whether there was a chance that Phoebe would conceive. He said that it's rare that it happens this late in the heat cycle, but it's possible. The only way to know would be to check the Progesterone levels in her blood. That would give us a 90% accurate reading. He asked whether we wanted them to have puppies or not. I said no. (I actually meant "Oh God, no!") He said that there were contraceptive pills available but they didn't really work. He'd seen a few cases where the dogs still conceived. He suggested that we either operate her now to remove her ovaries or go in for an abortion a month later. The former is not an option now (the hubs wasn't keen on it when I asked soon after the puppies were born) and the latter is never an option. It saddens me to even write about it.

So now, we begin the anxious 4-to-6-week long wait to know whether we're gonna be grandparents again before the year is out. We're not keen on it, but if it does happen, we'll make arrangements for the pups to be cared for and taken away sooner. Wish us luck, folks, and pray that we don't need it!

PS: I've written things in this post that I never thought would escape my (er...) fingers.

PPS: Whatever happens, we still love our Mojo and Phoebe to death. They're the best. And they make the cutest couple. Folks at the pet resort attest to that in writing :P

Destructive entertainment: a good training technique

Our grandpups have been dirtying the living room every night, so that I have to mop it thrice every morning--once to scoop the pee and poop off, again with water to get the sticky paw marks off, and yet again with Savlon to kill the odor and germs off. They've been doing their business in the balcony/terrace area during the day, except when they are engrossed in playing and don't have the patience to go all the way outside.

Until recently, I didn't keep the door to the balcony open during the night for fear that the mosquito militia might take over. The last couple of months, however, have taken a toll on my patience. Two days back, I took the risk, and the results have been dramatic. The first night, they dirtied the place 50% lesser. The second night, that figure went down to 90%!!

So this morning, I gladly began sweeping the floor, because it wasn't quite possible due to the sticky floor until now. I found a lot of thin sticks, and wondered what they were, because we didn't really have any stick-ey object lying around. (Before we retire every night, we diligently hide everything that the critters can destroy. They've targeted and succeeded with the TV remote's rubber hand grip, the remote itself, a few wires, cloth, bottles... pretty much anything that is unable to protect itself.)


I found this lying on the rug that I put down for the puppies to snuggle in if they need it.


And then it all came back to me. I remember looking at this small table mat lying on the center table last night, and thinking, oh what the hell... they might not even look at it. What I didn't think was... this is the only useful object in the room... do you think they're gonna stick to their toys? Which kid ever did that?



But then I figured, this was a small price to pay for a clean room. (Only one pee! And that too, not splashed or spread around with their paws!)

So here we go. Another lesson learned. Leave one object in the room for them to focus their energy on.

Some thoroughly enjoyable destruction inside
Keeps the pee and poop outside

Got off my ass and did something

... the second time around. This Saturday, folks from Ramnagar Colony, where I reside, had organized a walk to raise awareness and protest against the encroachment upon Ramnadi (mostly by construction companies). The plan was to walk alongside the river bed around 7:00 in the morning. The Ramnagar Colony Mandal had contacted the press and some municipal authorities. Considering their availability, the timing was changed to 11:00 am. Most of the participants were aged 50 or above. Considering the summer heat, we decided to use cars instead.

We drove to the adjoining highway and then went down the fork to the left where Anshul developers are constructing a residential complex right on top of the river itself. Their project description reads "Conveniently located at the junction of RamNadi and Mumbai-Bangalore Bypass." Located at the junction... my ass.

The next stop was the bridge beside DSK Ranwaara straddled by Rainbow Housing and the Goel Ganga group on each side. Their projects are not only endangering the ecosystem, but their future customers lives as well. Isn't it a simple fact that soil under or adjoining a river is unstable? How can the foundations of these constructions be strong enough for the buildings to survive even the next 5 / 10/ 20 years, especially with flash floods like we experienced last year? What are they thinking? Is this a forest where tribals can shit in the river and hope that their waste will be carried far away and wouldn't bother them? Rainbow Housing does not even mention the water body in their project description. Guess they assume that there won't be able left when they're done with the place.

The last stop was the rear side of Sai Kamal complex, which is separated from Praj Industries by Ramnadi. This a company that offers "water and wastewater treatment systems for customers, worldwide." By shitting in their own backyard. A few weeks ago, they were caught dumping debris in Ramnadi, which runs through their own backyard. As of now, it seems like they are cooperating and have expressed willingness to clean their act.

We did not do much other than walk around and chant slogans... something I'm not really a fan of, but we can't do much else until we gather the support of enough folks to move the responsible people in civic administration to do their jobs. Some experts explained the situation to folks who were new and mentioned other similar ongoing struggles in other parts of India. The press was invited to cover the event. The corporator, who was invited and reminded about the event over the phone, did not turn up. He missed the last even too, when these folks protested against praj Industries. The next action item is to get more people to involve and speak up. We're hoping to build the numbers and the momentum of this struggle so that the authorities take requisite action before this monsoon. This is a tad overtly ambitious, but we can hope, can't we?

Some folks have written about this elsewhere and the news articles should come out soon. Will update this post when I have the links and pictures.

Professional hazards - IV

Drama alert!

Us technical writers are like beggars, always asking for information. Snooty developers and snootier product managers oblige us when they're in a generous mood. But mostly we're found knocking on their posh car windows looking for a scrap of information that they'd want to throw at us, if only to throw us off their trail for a while. We gladly lap up every bit we receive only to realize that it wasn't what we needed. Once in a while some benevolent soul comes along and throws a few better-looking scraps, along with a look that says: use it well.

When they cross us a few days later, we show them what we've made of it. That's when they decide that it wasn't what they wanted to give us in the first place. Then they throw another large scrap at us and ask us to clean up the nice little trinket that we made out of the earlier scrap.

Oh, and did I mention the QA folk? They look at our trinket as if it's a waste of their time and that they need to get it off their hands before they're possessed by whatever's in it. If they are in a generous mood, they might even throw some bugs at us, praising our trinket for what it lacks. That, when they can barely string a few words together to make a sentence. Even if their life depends on it.

Disclaimer: I know I've made sweeping generalizations and accusations in this post, but would you prefer if I did a whiny, plaintive post with great detail of who said what to whom? I get my funny out instead.

Another day at work

... when you look at the clock and realize that this:
9
... has rolled around and turned to this:
6

:(

...oh, and as it turned out, I was working again from home until I looked up again and saw that it had rolled around again to this:
9

Professional hazards - III

Life can come to a standstill when you begin your day early. I got home after a meeting until 11:00 pm the previous night, changed, and got into bed. I slept badly--had dreams about everything that could go wrong with the project or my teammates. Woke up at 6:15 am, changed, and went straight to work to prepare for the meeting at 7:00 am. I planned to come home early for a break and return if necessary. It turned out that I couldn't leave until 11.5 hours later when my work was almost done. And I still have two hour-long meetings to go.

I've tried many times to start early so that I can stop for the day at a decent hour, but that never seems to work out. My planning is lousy and execution is worse. Feels like I fit right into the project team I work with.

And yet, I can't make up my mind about quitting. The temptation of learning and earning the lifestyle we currently lead is too great. I hope to some day be pissed off enough to quit without looking back. And then to make good use of the time not spent earning money.

My dog's going alpha

... and I'm not happy.

When my pooches were pups, they would happily wag their tails and approach all other dogs playfully. Mojo was always a bit skeptical but would want to jump on other dogs to test their willingness to play. Phoebe has never known fear (apart from the fear of mine or her dada's wrath). She's delighted to see any dog irrespective of size, shape, color, and smell, and wants to play with whoever it is. She approaches other dogs from below, showing that she intends to play and not harm. She's known to lie on the ground and sniff a pug's face. She looks downright silly--a 2.5-foot dog sucking up to a 0.5-foot one. Lately, however, Mojo has taken to approaching every other dog like a hunter. The moment he sees one in the distance, he slows his pace, changes his stance, and gets into his best crouching position, ready to be launched like a torpedo. I coolly watch him do all of this (it's mighty amusing!) and usually distract him at the right moment, enough to save my arm from being yanked off along with the leash.

I digress. Now to the main story.

I was walking ze canines last night, and we happened to cross another pair of familiar dogs--Max (playful and alert) and Bruno (shy, doesn't like himself or his partner touched). Mojo was ready for a go at any of them, and Phoebe was too, each with their own different intentions. I held Mojo back and loosened Phoebe's leash so that she could go ahead and play. Max was happy to sniff and let sniff. Bruno was cautious as always.

Hubby happened to cross us on his way home right then and as I got distracted for a second, Mojo slipped and went straight for Max. Max being the hunky Doberman, I was scared for Mojo initially, but within the few seconds that they were at each other, I began fearing for Max! My husband intervened and took Phoebe away while trying to hit Mojo so as to control him. In the next few seconds I somehow got hold of Mojo's mouth--he'd caught Max's ear firmly and wouldn't let go. I pried his jaws open, yelled at him, and pulled at his ear to control him.

While hubby held our goons, I apologized to the other pet owner and checked Max's ears for cuts. There were nothing except a bit of Mojo's saliva on his skin. Thankfully, his ears had been trimmed a few months ago (although I'm not in favor of that kind of vanity). I was so embarrassed, I wanted to disown Mojo right then. If Max had longer ears, Mojo would have yanked one off. I was pleasantly surprised and extremely angry at the same time.

Because they've been so protected, I always fear that Mojo wouldn't last a minute if he were out on the streets by himself. Phoebe would last for about 5 minutes at least, given how she protects herself against Mojo's attacks and advances. (Yep, we get to watch a lot of canine drama.) Street dogs are much more aggressive and vicious, which is necessary for their own survival. After this incident, I have a feeling that Mojo is much more vicious than he appears to be. He could, after all, learn to survive--with a lot of battle scars to show for it.

However, all of these thoughts came to me much later when we were all home and about to sleep. My first reaction was anger. Mojo has be been brought up playing with Phoebe and quite a few neighborhood dogs. None of them ever tried to attack Mojo. Where did he get that instinct from? Why does he take that offensive stance when he sees other dogs, especially males? I've noticed this change in him since he reached adulthood--his second heat earlier this year. It's a hormone-induced personality change, I think. He's even been jumping at Simba in offense. Simba is the dangerous-looking-but-the-sweetest-and-most-unharmful dog I've ever seen. My pooches have grown up with Simba--he's their favorite! And yet Mojo crouches when he sees Simba from afar. Although, he backs off in a couple of seconds once he realizes that Simba isn't attacking back. Then they both play a game of who marks the most number of shrubs or who marks the best. But I still hate it that Mojo isn't playful any more. He's going alpha.

It's not that Phoebe is an angel with other dogs. She barks back when another barks menacingly at her. But that's defense. She still tugs at the leash at the risk of cutting her throat, and rolls happily on the ground at the sight of another dog. She won't eat for days, but the moment she knows we have some free time, she plonks her toy at our feet and demands a game of fetch.

Mojo on the other hand uses attention-grabbing techniques like peeing on the floor without asking to be taken out--he used to do that earlier! He scratches walls, eats the paint off them, and begs for food even when he has just had his meal. I was so angry with him after the incident with Max, that I hit him all the way home. I didn't feed him and threatened to make him sleep alone his cage all night. I knew I'd cool down and bring him into the bedroom with us in the middle of the night, but right then I was ashamed of him for being mean to another dog. My softie husband melted and tempted me to relieve him from the cage sooner than I had planned.

I'm not proud of punishing him, but I doubt whether loving words or other actions would have stopped him from attacking the other dog. Given some time and space to play and know each other, I'm sure he'd even befriend Max, but I'm mighty pissed at the attack-for-no-reason. And now, I don't think Max's owner would trust me enough to attempt to get them to play.

I sometimes wonder whether Mojo feels like the less favorite one, and needs more love to prove otherwise. I hope I can find out and make him my gentle, sweet puppy again. Maybe the hormones will do that trick as he grows older and stabilizes. Fingers crossed.

Men, mothers, marriage, mo(u)rnings

A large part of lunch-and-tea-time conversations at work revolve around the contributions that our spouses make towards housework and life in general. Or the extreme lack thereof. Some things that crossed my mind, and that I saved for posts like these are...

There's a मराठी idiom that goes like this: स्त्री ही क्षणाची पत्नी अणि जन्माची माता असते। (Those who know better, feel free to correct me.)
It loosely translates to: A woman is a wife for moments and a mother for a lifetime.
Here's what I think: Most men deserve their mothers and nothing more.

A popular complaint is that men sleep late into the mornings while their wives do all the housework, get the kids ready for school, and get themselves to work in time. They resent the husbands for their shameful boot-up time. The ones like me abhor this trait and resort to yelling curses to get our point across. Trust me, we've tried gentle and more socially-acceptable-but-never-to-be-spoken-in-public ways of making our fellas rise n' shine. It seems like some of us are doomed to an eternity of foul-mood-mornings cuz we have to think of and do EVERY FUCKING THING ourselves. Or spend our lives giving reminders, without the respect that a fucking cellphone / planner gets.

Hence, the popular quote: Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.
...should be changed to: Early to bed and early to rise makes your wife happy, zippy, and nice.
...cuz the quote only talks about 'men' anyway.

Disclaimer#1: I'm not proud of myself for gossiping or ranting, but this had to be put down.

Disclaimer#2: Cuz the hubs doesn't seem to have read this yet, and cuz the responses surprised me. It isn't as bad as I made it sound in the post. My problem is with our society and our mothers who bring up boys differently than girls. There are exceptions, but they aren't as many as we need for our society to become one where spouses are equal contributors.

Tricking my mind

Another realization dawned upon me today as I was helping a relatively new team mate at work. I had this defect in my queue, which I thought I wouldn't be able to resolve within the planned milestone. I asked my lead to pass it on to someone else who could work on it. I estimated that it would take about 2-4 hours for a new person to resolve. The colleague who it was assigned to asked me for help, and I ended up resolving the whole thing. While the defect was in my queue, I kinda resented it because it was just one of those things-I-couldn't-get-to-because-I-have-other-priorities. When someone else asked me to help, I gladly hand-held them through the problem.

So here's a tip for my leads / managers if they ever come across my blog. Never assign me a task. Ask me to help others. That way I always end up exceeding expectations. There aren't any to meet, dummy!. If only 'helping others' wouldn't turn into a target for meeting expectations.

Anyone else dealing with this application called Success Factors? It's the monster under my workstation.

Hyperactively excited

...is what I become when I unexpectedly come across a person I know and adore. I was out for a team lunch at Not Just Jazz by the Bay, when Gouri Dange walked past.

I could not just keep my ass stuck to the chair and wave a decent hello. I almost ran over to her and hugged her out of joy. Even though she lives in the neighborhood and I can visit her often, I don't/ get to. It was such a thrill to see her there! She mentioned that she had just watched (the world's worst film--in her words) Aisha and I was like, but why?! Why put yourself through that? She explained that she had accompanied a friend who was critiquing that movie. I told her I'd rather watch Predators.

Which I truly will. Booked tickets for the weekend already. Husband made the mistake of asking what the story of that one was. As if I care. I'm just going for all the guns and lasers and mini-nuclear weapons/beasts and spooky scenes. Although a lot of thought and work might have gone into making that one, for me it's a no-brainer. Which is what I need right now.

Also reading Confessions Of A Listmaniac by eM. Trying to not work longer than 8 hours a day.

Professional hazards - I

Yesterday, I received a friend's email via Yahoo groups. The subject was: What To Do When You Are Trapped in A lift? I didn't see any content or attachment in that email, so I ignored it.

This morning a friend from that group responded to that thread with this: So what do you do, press the "untrap" button?

Instead of 'getting' the joke, the first thought that crossed my mind was: Shouldn't that be "click" the untrap button?

Then I realized, the lift might not be one of those cools ones with a touch-screen input panel. Where do they have any of those anyway, except in sci-fi movies? Also, in that case, shouldn't we call it "touching" the untrap button? Then again, that would be wrong because we're actually touching the screen and not the button as such.

By then the joke died a silent death. Dang the profession!

PS: Initially, I wrote content / attachment, but scratched that to include "or." Like we say in Indie English... I'm a gone case. Mera kuchh nahi ho sakta.

Cleaning the sprouts

In response to Noor's tooth update.

Firstly, don't those finger brushes look sinisterly like something that would have prevented the kids from 'being'? Just sayin'. Actually I think of getting them too, for my wolf-descendants.

Wouldn't these scare you?

(Drags her dirty mind out of the gutter.)

I know precisely what they mean by shark-teeth. The smaller and newer the teeth, the sharper they are. Also, mostly they'd open their mouths eagerly to try and gobble up the biggest of objects--like basketballs, for example--but YOU attempt to put something suspicious in their mouths, and they'll... well, calm up. No better word.

I have to pry 'em jaws open!

I'm glad I don't have to brush my monsters' everyday. Once a few weeks is enough. Surprisingly there's no dog breath unless you decide to wedge your nose between their open jaws and take a deep one.

Or, sometimes, as they sleep in all kinds of weird positions, their lip-flaps (what else do you call them?) sag in the wrong direction, and their canines are accidentally bared.

One would think the bugger is so smugly a-sleepin'.

This one's for me

You seriously think you could do it? Ha ha ha! Next year, say less and do more.

As for 2009, let's catch a last glimpse from the window, and wave good-bye :)