95 to 21 in 20

It’s not as cryptic as it sounds. And no, I’m not trying to boast. Just want to tell the avid readers of my blog (whom I can count on a miniscule part of one finger tip) that if I can do it anyone can.

On January 1, 2008, I clocked in at a light heavy weight 95 kg. Just over a year and a half later, I completed a half marathon.

For a body that has undergone multiple decades of abuse and neglect, I must say it’s quite remarkable that I could do anything of this nature.

The Kaveri Trail Marathon, now in its 3^rd year is a grueling 21 km path starting at the Ranganthitu Bird Sanctuary in Srirangapatna (near Mysore). The picturesque surroundings are immaterial to the runners as the heat and humidity get to you pretty fast. The start time of 7 a.m. ensures that the sun is well out and burning bright in all it resplendent glory providing no respite to those of us embarking on this needless mission.

This year saw over 600 runners participating, with about 80 doing the full marathon, 300 or so doing the half marathon and the rest doing the relatively less strenuous 10K. I was surprised to see so many folks well over 50 in both the full and the half.

The running track is mostly without any undue inclinations but the problem is avoiding the stones, potholes, cow dung and deep ravines that have been cut due to rain and the bullock cart wheels. I was constantly adjusting my trajectory and by the time I had done the first half of the run, exhaustion and fatigue had set in for good measure.

I willed myself to run back the remaining 10.5 km and barely managed 5 km before I thought I’d just collapse. The sun was now high up and there being absolutely no cloud cover, I was all set to give up. I walked a couple of kilometers at a reasonable space and it seemed like I would never finish. 4km came and after a lifetime, it was 3 km. I stopped at the water stations and doused my head with water and immediately felt a lot better.

2 km - 1 km was hell and the last 1000 meters was even worse. This was easily the longest kilometer of my life and at about 300 meters from the finish line, I gave it all I had left and crossed over the finish line, beaten and battered but not defeated.

It took me a good 3 hours to get through this madness and there were actually people who finished behind me. However, most of the people older than me finished well ahead of me! Oh well, I’m just relieved I completed this damn thing and don’t have to worry about it…..till next year! Hell yeah! I am going back for more!

Pretzels

Pretzels! Pretzels! I need more Pretzels!

R.E.S.P.E.C.T or how the Cauvery dispute must have started

There’s just something about water that brings out the worst in the two neighboring states. This week, the battleground was our humble home.

It all began with a phone call our maid/nanny/cook/caretaker made to our driver on Sunday. She apparently wanted the phone number for the store that supplies us drinking water. Our driver informed her that he’d already ordered the water can and it would be delivered Monday evening.

Come Monday evening, no sign of water, and every fiber of her Tamilian persona bristled at the lack of water. She marches down to the basement to seek a resolution to the water dispute once and for all.

Now, the Gowda community in Karnataka is not one to be trifled with. Men do not take it lying down when a woman raises her voice to them and that too in public. Our maid, in all earnestness at the injustice of water deprivation, started yelling at my driver. Here’s where things get muddled a bit as it’s a lot of ‘he said’ and ‘she said’. We will commence our narrative with the maid’s version.

She walks down to the basement and tells him that since he didn’t get the water for us, she’ll call for it herself. Illogically, our driver reacted sharply to this request and asked her to take a hike. He also told her that he would get 4 men to come sleep with her. Ok, don’t ask. I don’t see the progression and logic either. He then wrapped up his innovative tirade with a ‘shut your ass up and go’ which is the best translation I can do for a common Kannada curse phrase which sounds delightful in that language but doesn’t translate too well to English.

Full of righteous indignation (and without that all important store’s number), she came back upstairs and burst into tears.

Ok, now for the homeboy version. This lady descends down the stairs like an avenging she-devil and tells him that he’s always ‘dying’ in the basement (again, translation issues apply here). The gist of it is that she demeaned him in front of his peer group so he told her that he won’t give her the phone number.

Cut to an hour later. The four of us in our home – the wife, the maid, the driver and me. The woman starts off the proceedings with high drama with how she will call her husband and the cops and a few other unrelated elements to fix our driver for his hurtful and shaming words. Our driver claims he never said a thing other than refusing to give the number purely going on attitude issues. But he says that she shouted at him for whiling away time in the basement while she toiled in the house. By now, the maid was inconsolable, swearing on numerous gods, saying how the lord above was watching; He knows the truth, the truth will prevail and set me free!

At this point, an independent witness was brought in by the driver. This lady, a cleaner by profession, was of no use as she said the heated debates all happened in Tamil and despite her keen observations, she couldn’t follow the chain of discussions. The maid was quick to dismiss the witness as hostile to her cause and concluded a deep conspiracy in the basement ranks.

My wife (aka Solomon The Wise) now swiftly got into the act. She summarized the events saying that she yelled and he yelled so both were wrong. The content of the yelling was moot, the wise one proclaimed. However, the maid sensed a bias towards the driver and again got worked up, bringing back the topic of the 4 men who were supposed to be dragged in to sleep with her. My driver was unperturbed and he informed us in no uncertain terms that he has sisters and other women in his life and he has never spoken that way to anyone.

Judge Solomon, looking for rapid resolution then gave this verdict (an impressive speech actually with the verdict embedded in it). ‘Neither of you admit to what you actually said. We all know that yelling happened to some degree from both sides. It was wrong of you to go down and shout at him and you should not have shouted back at her. We need both of you equally and while I don’t expect you to gain each other’s respect in the next few days or months but we want you both to maintain professional decorum within these four wall. Now say sorry to each other and let’s all move on’. The chief justice now paused for breath and waited for the response to the judgment.

The driver, being from Karnataka, readily agreed to the terms and conditions and gave his due apologies. The maid banged her head with her hand and wailed that she would rather die than say sorry. She returned to her favorite theme of the 4 men and asked rhetorically if I would be okay with it if someone had said that to my sister (if I had one). As part of the justice panel, I was forced to comment and told her that we have no proof of what he said or what she said and what was of importance right now is that they still talk to each other for home related matters and they can’t expect to involve us in all that.

An uneasy truce now prevails in the household but at least things are going on as usual. We’ll see how long it lasts.

Double the itch, double the fun!

Another milestone, another check mark in the road of life. I remember the days leading to our wedding vividly. The $400 monthly phone bills, the inconsequential conversations, learning as much as we could about each other. Man, we sure had no idea what we were getting into. And that’s a good thing. Looking back, there’s no doubt that this is the best thing that’s happened to me. Yeah, yeah, it sounds clichéd and all that, but it’s the gospel truth and no two ways about it.

Is there a secret, a formula, a tried and tested way to be married for 14 years? Absolutely not! All I can say is that we’re best friends first, husband and wife second. We fight about the most absurd things, like losing a game of Wii or not picking up the phone on the first half ring! But, it’s all worth it. Makes life together rich and fun. Cannot think of sharing our lives with anyone else. The bar for the opposite sex is now set so high that no one comes close to either of us when it comes to relationships and bonds. Sounds vain and high and mighty? Probably!

We’ve gone through so much together and the few years of trauma when we wanted to have children made us both so much tougher and brought so much closer together. Now, nothing is insurmountable, nothing too difficult for us to overcome. Sounds like I conquered Mt. Everest? Sure feels like it!

Do I believe in miracles? A resounding heartfelt YES! One is the companion that I’ve been gifted with and the other is the twin trouble we fought to be gifted with. Sounds corny? Probably! But it’s the gospel truth and no two ways about it.

The Doctor Despite Himself

Frankly speaking, the lack of sleep the previous night was getting to me and I literally dragged myself to go for the play for the sole reason that this was my nephew Anirudh’s maiden theater performance.

I was not disappointed. A light hearted drama by Jean-Baptiste Poquein (better known in literally circles as Moliere), this was done very well by a group of young folk which calls itself Miracle Entertainment.

My only beef was that Anirudh played Leandre whereas I’m very sure he could have carried off the lead role with equal aplomb. And I’m not saying this just because he’s my nephew. In a minor role, he excelled and stole the show with his acting abilities!

I must say a tear or two welled up in my eyes seeing him on stage. My periappa (father’s brother) had acted in the same play 5 decades or so back and to me, it was like seeing him again on stage, which I never had the good fortune to do.

Thanks Anirudh for giving me the opportunity to see how my periappa might have performed and I wish you all the best in your budding acting career. You rock and though you might not hear me wax poetic on your abilities, I love your talent and drive. Keep it up man!

The other blog in my life

Not wanting to dilute the very important aspect of my life (read - eating), I decided to have a separate blog for all the food and restaurant related articles which will hopefully help others with a similar bent of mind in this noble pursuit of great food around the world.

Here's the link:

www.trivikramprasad.com

Enjaai!

You know you're a Volvo bus addict when...

1. you know the route and timing of each bus
2. you start to recognize the registration plates of each vehicle
3. you have a favorite seat which fits you exactly
4. the conductor automatically gives you the right fare ticket
5. you get a big silly grin on your face every time you see one of those big red buses even when you’re not in one
6. every 10 rupee note is guarded with your life and can only be pried from your cold dead hands
7. without holding onto anything you are still left standing when the brakes are applied
8. you watch in morbid fascination to see if your driver will actually run someone over
9. you take the bus to work even on weekends and holidays
10. you are actually able to get off at your stop during peak hours

Zak checks in

We finally did the deed. Zak Prasad, born Feb 16^th, 2009 officially joined our family yesterday. A tiny runt to look at, he’s sure got lots of attitude and tons of spunk. We’re in it for the long haul and revisiting our early days with the kids sans the diaper changes. Zak actively seeks out the carpet for all his output and stubbornly refuses to sleep in his posh crate. So, we need to wait for him to fall asleep and then put him inside. He loves to eat his Cerelac with water and he perks up the moment he hears the spoon mixing in his bowl. Quite an alert chap the few hours he’s awake and he actually comes running when you clap, something that Sol never did for many years.

It’s not easy to let go of thoughts of our beloved prince but we’ll do our best in giving Zak all our love and affection just like we did for Sol. Looking forward to having him around for a long long time. Hope someone up there is listening?