My endless obsession with questions.

Where is home?

There where the mind is at peace
or the heart beats at ease?

Where you dream freely and fearlessly
or enact them out with painless compassion?

Where you are questioned
or allowed to questioned all that is around?

Where the wind blows like a fierce storm
or breezes past with pleasant memories?

Where the rain pelts like stone
or dances to celebrate you?

Where the trees haunt and scare
or smile and embrace in their shade?

Where one's echo seems like another's
or answers one's deepest queries?

Where the sea rises to destroy
or tickles ones' feet and washes away all sorrows and disappointments?

Where the sun blazes overhead
or soothes one with eternal warmth?

In search of such a home we wander.

Aimless

Hopeful

Little realising that it might be where one is and not where one fantasises one to be.

The process of making the existing place home, is called life.

29 C

Yesterday, while i was on my way to WCC in an attempt to set my future groundings i found that the girl sitting next to me on the bus was holding a form for Stella. my heart skipped a beat for reasons unknown.

should i ask her which course she's applied for?

should i tell her who her teachers are going to be?

should i tell her who her seniors are going to be?

should i tell her about the ice lollies?

should i tell her who her union members are going to be?

should i tell her about the butt slapping sister H2?
or the fire breathing sister H1?
or or the feeling up of sister C?

should i tell her who to go to in case of an attendance problem?

should i tell her about the watchmen and the ID card song?

should i tell her which clubs are active and fun and which aren't?

should i tell her what to eat and what not to eat at the canteen?

should i tell her about the mutant kakas and how to dodge them?

should i tell her about the secret passages to various rooms?

should i tell her about the oats?

should i tell her that she'd be addressed as a bouquet of flowers on her first day in college?

should i tell her about the third comps and assignments?

should i tell her about freshers day, inter-years, aquilae...?

should i tell her about CR?

should i tell her about P!!!????

should i tell her what she's in for for the next three glorious years of her life?

well this is what i did- i sat listening to "bitter-sweet symphony, that's life" with a grin on my face.

let her Stella years reveal themselves to her.

29C is going to show me the new faces of Stella, faces that will leave their mark after three years. may these faces bother the ones that bothered us, i bless them!

The Death of a Bubble

Sometimes things that you dream about finally happen, and when they happen you feel a strange satisfaction- a bliss that cannot be worded. Thanks to Mrina, we finally had a trip to Yercaud. Though there were less than half of the people who had initially signed up for it enthusiastically (frauds!) we had one of the best times of our life.

The train was at 11:20, but Mrina, Radhoo and I were at the station at 10:30 sharp. :) I'm sure our grandmothers would have been most happy about our timing. Anyway, we dragged our luggage to the platform and sat on amazingly dusty benches, waiting for the rest of the janta to arrive.Unfortunately we had seats in different places on the train. The fan conveniently didn’t work and we had a woman next to us who slept with a blanket in the sultry heat and shut the window as soon as the train started moving (after an hour’s wait that is!). Insane!

Come morning, after a rickety ride, and we find that the train is even more delayed. The train domesticated at night for an hour! For what joy, I’m yet to find out. The blaring sun creeped in through the windows and tanned us. Sweating, fuming, sweating we reached Salem Town at 8:15. But, where is the Tavera???? Hmmm, apparently he was ten minutes away when he finally turned up at around 9:00.

TWENTY hair pin bends to Yercaud. Clove, thou shall be my best friend! The journey to the hill top was one of the most scenic road trips I’ve ever been on. Green Green green. Then some more Green with patches of red and white. The air was fragrant like never before. We were on our way to heaven.

Star Hotels Inc- a bright orange and bright yellow building awaited our arrival. What a disappointment! The rooms weren’t that bad but there was a certain someone whom we all wanted to KILL by the end of our stay. “Swimming pool especially for women!” What nonsense! The pool was an abysmally small depression in the ground that was visible to all (so much for a pool for women!). Water? Well, in Yercaud people apparently swim in waterless pools that have a layer of black filth sticking to their surfaces. Among other amenities was the Jolly Park. We probably had our most fun morning there. Swinging on the swing and see-sawing. (Bounce! Bounce! ) We felt like hyper 3 year olds. Who’s complaining! :P

Lunch was at a gorgeously English place- Lake Forest Hotel. Wooden tables, long stain glassed windows with trees all around us. Oh and there were really old English songs being played. What more could one ask for. :] after lunch, we tried asking the managers if they could house us for a day, but to our dismay they were booked for the entire weekend. We gallivanted looking for another accommodation. Operation- unsuccessful. We were stuck with Star hotel with cockroaches, frequent power cuts and NO SWIMMING POOL. (Emphasis on swimming pool is for Nandini who was most affected by it.)

Move on! We left for shevaroy temple, from where we took a slightly long detour to land up at our own point from where one could see the valley at its best with beautiful hills at the background for the most picturesque sight. Unfortunately only Anjana, Nandini and I made it to the spot. We sat their gazing at the unbelievably vast beauty for one and a half hours. The sight is still engraved in my memory. One could see the shadows of the clouds on the forest parting and merging- the green changing from a darker shade to a soothing yellow under the play of sunlight. Listening to music made the place prettier. The song echoed through the distant mountains. I didn’t need the I-pod anymore. I was in another world, a world I’m definitely going to miss.

The temple was in a cave unbelievably cooler than the vicinity. Two hundred and fifty years old, the local deity was dressed in a beautiful gown. There was an indescribable peace in there. Silence never seemed more pleasing.

Post temple visit we went to the lake for a boat ride. The boat ride was followed by an eating spree- peanuts and candy floss. Bubbles never fail to fascinate. We bought three bottles of soap solution and bubbled our way to the cottage to see SIVAJI for the umpteenth time. :P But before we could even see half an hour of the movie, the DVD player crashed! (Another reason to kill that someone.) Grrrrr.

Stomachs grumbled and dinner beckoned. Hotel Grand Palace, here we come! This was the most hilarious dinner encounter. If I don’t write it in a dialogue form, it would be unjust. Here goes:

Waiter: Madam, what kind of water would you like?

Lakshmi: Regular water room temperature.

Waiter: Ok, Madam.

Returns after a minute.

Waiter: Madam, would you like warm water or cold water?

Lakshmi: I said we’d like regular water ROOM temperature.

Waiter: Ok, madam.

Returns again.

Waiter: Madam, would you like mineral water?

Lakshmi: I SAID WE’D LIKE REGULAR WATER ROOM TEMPERATURE!

Waiter: yes, madam.

The MUCH-AWAITED water arrived. What a start! Food wasn’t bad. The only regret was that the caramel custard Lakshmi and Radhoo had been craving for since afternoon (since Lake Forest was not serving it) was unavailable here as well. Sigh, Yercaud seemed to have run out of Caramel Custard.

Day 2- had more adventure on the cards. It was a lazy start at ten in the morning. We went straight for lunch to Henrietta (Lake Forest) -yummy buffet with a slight mishap with the pulao. Nithya got to eat her vaithakozamb rice :] with stomachs bloated no one had the energy to site see in the heat. Destination- cottage no. 6 and Sivaji. I’ve never enjoyed the movie, but this time it was different. I understood the jokes and laughed at the appropriate moments. We rewound (or in Anjana’s words- back forwarded) scenes that made us topple. (e.g.- kaun hai? Boss hai da kennai!)

After the movie, the six of us (except Anjana) went for cycling. While I sat in the car, these exploratory girls were back in fifteen minutes complaining of leg pains! :D The rigorous exercise now called for some rejuvenation- key= molgai bhajjis+ cauliflower bhajjis+spicy chutney. Then we went to another temple and discovered yet another scenic spot. We sat and yapped and yapped and yapped. Monfort School was next-a beautiful school where we tried entering fraudulently by making claims of being ex-students. Sigh! We settled for snaps around the place. Dinner was a light affair. We decided to experiment with our Star Hotel kitchen which we’d been avoiding conveniently. Not bad at all. The dessert was the best. Mrina, Nithya and Nandini surprised Lakshmi and Radhoo by getting their craving- Caramel Custard-our belated birthday present to them. We wanted to end the day by watching a scary movie. But then the DVD player was snatched from us for ten minutes (now we shall redefine ten minutes. The player was taken from us at around 8:30 and it was returned at 12:00). During the period of wait we were glued to Splitsvilla, which I must say can be addictive. It was amusing to see how stupid people can be. :P No offence to Splitsvilla fans.

Nandini was bent upon seeing the horror movie. She sat up with Mrina and Radhoo while the rest of us snored. They watched 3/4^th of it and abandoned it for they saw no ghost at all.

Day 3- Wake up! Get out of the bathroom! Hurry! We have to leave by six thirty! On our way to Salem we reheard our favourite songs of the trip- where’s the party tonight (silambattam) and daddy mummy. I can’t believe it still rings in my head! Breakfast was a happy affair at a place called sangeetha. We reached the station way in advance. The bubble solution saved the day. We bubbled out time out. We filled the station with bubbles of all sizes amusing people around us and sang old old English songs. Joy!

The train was late again. We got into the jam packed chair car naive of the adventure that awaited us. We were accompanied by a monstrous family that ate at regular intervals of ten minutes spilling half of the things. By the end of the journey the train floor was strewn with tamarind rice, lemon rice and curd rice along with some fanta and coffee. A treat for the cockroaches. The sight of Chennai Central had never enthralled us more. The joy of getting out of the train cannot be explained. :] home sweet home!

The entire trip was like a bubble- beautiful and short lived. Like Radhoo worded- the death of a bubble. A death not to be mourned but to be rejoiced for life.