How to cure the 'Lazy Husband' syndrome !

It all started with a TV remote. In the times of Doordarshan or DD-1, there was no need of a remote control and it was somewhat easier to agree with parents. And then there was DD-2, the first ever reason why we disagreed (over the TV). However, when we switched to the 8:00 pm inevitable English News on DD-1, we got up from our chairs and pressed the tab on the right side of the TV monitor and came back to our seat, thus burning about 3 calories. And this was celebrated by Doordarshan by playing the most depressing tune in the history of music as if it was a prelude to the equally depressing people who were about to read it. So the TV never got us addicted to it, thanks to the sad jingles, programs, outrageously fashion retarded cast or the grief stricken anchors none of which changed since Independence.

Later, the TV started swelling and eventually bursting with channels. It also made twice the number of disagreements as there were people in the family. More differences, more rooms, more TVs and lesser compatibility. Earlier all I had to worry about was Mamta Kulkarni or Manisha Koirala who may do the most inappropriate act, at the most crucial time (when parents were around). But now I flip channels completely warned and aware that anyone from Sunny Leone to Dora the explorer may strip at any point of time. It is impossible to watch TV with kids L

Weekend trips to the Electricity, Water and Telephone offices to pay bills, register complaints etc. were replaced by online portals, and now there are apps so that trip is saved. But when we did drive to the office and stood in long queues, we were taught the value of time, money and most importantly patience. As a bonus, few calories were also burnt without our knowledge. Similarly, we don’t need to go to the railway station to book a ticket; it is done by gliding those fingers on the phone. But this website gives us the real feel of actually driving to the railway station on an exhaustingly sultry day. That’s our very own IRCTC. It teaches the internet generation what it is to be in a queue, and wait patiently under the scorching sun until we are given a seat in the Waiting List Number 786. Everyone from our internet generation should book a ticket in IRCTC to learn some moral science.

Trips to the library are completely avoidable as we can read them at our convenience on the tab. In most cities there are facilities to get groceries delivered at our doorsteps so no need to go there either. Pizza is delivered to my couch, and tomorrow it may be delivered to my mouth. Washing machines, dishwashers, blenders and food processors do most of the cleaning and chopping. A lot of work is thus reduced.

We used to set timers on cameras to click family pics, now there are remote controls to do that as well. Movie tickets are available online. At least 95% of bank transactions and school fees are paid online. Clothes and shoe shopping is booming on websites. And I look at the jammed roads and wonder…Where are all these people going?

Basically, the reasons our parents had to get off that chair and do some errands do not exist anymore; which is why we need to work out and eat right. However a certain someone at home has not worked out since last five months. Each day there was a new reason not to do so. I wonder there is some app on iphone which generates ridiculous excuses every day? Otherwise how on earth is it possible to come up with ‘There is a dog on that route which I suspect has rabies?’

It is really tough to inspire people and get them to do something for their own health. And it is tougher to inspire them on a daily basis, as there are lesser inspirational stories than there are excuses.

Here is my million dollar idea for the existing Nike-iphone app that counts calories while walking. Hubby WAS a regular user of this app, when he used to walk, long ago when Atal Behari Vajpayee was the Prime Minister.  This can be upgraded for an additional feature: When the user does not use the app on a certain (lazy) day, the iphone should just shut down until the next day. The ipad should synchronize the same command and shut down as well. Nothing cripples men more than this. And I am sure the fear of the phone shutting down will get the laziest of men run for their lives health. All the ladies who have excuse generating husbands will thank iphone for this...at least I will.

So as I was at my desk thinking of productive ways to get the hubby to exercise, somewhere else in the world, Nike came up with another brilliant idea. Someone designed new running shoes the laces of which will tie on its own. This is the same person that constructed an elevator to his gym.

  

My equation with Chemistry ( #ConditionSeriousHai ) !

Teenage is probably the most underrated phase of a person’s life. All the physical and mental variations and a ruckus of hormones, ultimately makes up a weirdo or in other words, a teenager. This was also the time when ‘Look at Leela aunty’s son. He is a topper in whatever he does’ rang in my ears even when my Mom was actually telling me to eat. Leela aunty and her son were marked in red, bold and underlined, and highlighted in yellow on my hit list ever since I can remember. And this is one woman I avoided like plague because she was bothered about my very existence. Apparently her son scored just 96% and topped the district or even the country but Leela aunty was wiping her nose in distress, because her #ConditionSeriousHai.

And I remember that day when I came out of the exam hall after the twelfth grade Chemistry exam. The question paper was very simply set with direct questions. Basically, I was not born to study Chemistry. As simple as that. Now if you want to inject organic and physical chemistry into my head that is not designed to accept this type of data, it is your call. This was my attitude all through the chemistry classes, chemistry tuition classes and chemistry entrance tuition classes. After that load of  chemistry equations and theories were dumped aimlessly into my head, I still could not balance an equation correctly, whereas my classmates did it in a matter of microseconds. Apparently Leela aunty’s son balanced equations with his left hand when he had to used his right hand at dinner.

So as I walked out of the exam hall I heard peals of laughter and my classmates discussing the question paper with beaming faces. I could almost see a 99/100 written across their foreheads. However diplomacy is the key to coexist with competitive parents. So when Papa asked how the exam went, I replied it was ‘okay’. By saying that, neither did I confirm that I would pass with flying colors, nor did I say that it was difficult and invite hell’s wrath. It was a situation of mental equilibrium. When I reached home everyone was not actually looking forward to see me because Leela aunty had howled from the top of her roof that her nerd of a son was throwing things around saying it was a ‘sub-standard’ question paper and he wasted his year for nothing. So basically this moron’s #ConditionSeriousHai.

The reply ‘It was okay’ to any question that was aimed at me related to exams kept the parents waiting for the results so that they could pounce on me. This means, that two months till the results came I could live peacefully in my house without it being converted into a T-Rex's nest. However, I tactfully avoided appearing at any get-together or Sunday school, as a measure of precautionary self-defense against suspected nosy aunties. Those two months till the results came was a period I needed to be extra careful. After the results are published the war takes a different turn altogether which may involve major bombing from all possible directions but that is a totally different story. Meanwhile, Leela aunty was silently having a party in her head, as her son’s batch mate was likely to hit rock bottom. And I tell you, there was not one but lots of Leela aunties around all whose #ConditionSeriousHai.

 If I tried hard and managed to get a mark more than her son, I am sure Leela aunty would have attempted suicide. So, my decision to stay within the average pool and never leaping out of it was in a way saving the life of Leela aunty and her son whom I doubt wore diapers at night.

Ten years down the line, I am doing just fine without learning Chemistry, just like Leela aunty’s son is after mastering it. The bottom line is that we will all be just fine regardless of our take at the Chemistry paper.

So Leela aunty, chill, have a Cadbury 5 star.  

This article was written for Indiblogger Cadbury Five Star contest - Condition Serious Hai. 

Truly, madly, IDLY !

You can say all the jokes you want about South Indians, but we will never ever stop eating Idlis. Not for the whole world. No amount of Rajnikanth-kolaveri-kerala nurses unfunny jokes can dissuade us from our traditional food, which continues to be a top favorite across all age groups- from toddlers to politicians. Oh and we are also tea drinkers. It keeps us awake and

and alert you see. It is one of the reasons behind the percentage of South Indian students that knock at the gates of IIT, and the ever increasing theft rate elsewhere  ;-)

Coming back to idlis, even though its batter is available in every nook and corner, it cannot be compared with what we grind at home. The color, smell and everything about it is different. It could probably be because the stores may use baking soda for fast fermentation which is a practice we never do at home. Anyway for bachelors and newly-married-cooking-retarded people (that’s me around five years back), these batter packets are a blessing.

It was on my first grocery shopping trip post marriage that I found out about the idli batter packets and I rejoiced like I won the lottery. I was not even aware of the existence of such a thing mainly because before marriage, I never went grocery shopping. Secondly, hot idlis frequently appeared at the dining table and taken for granted in no time. Thirdly, when Mummy and a housemaid of twenty years are at the kitchen there is no room or reason for a third person to intrude and investigate. Fourthly it was better to eat and leave rather than staying back to ask questions and invite trouble.

It was years later when our baby came into our lives, we started to forego anything that came in packets. This included masalas, batter, processed snacks and other stuff. And then as necessity is the mother of pain-in-the-neck, our next trip to India saw us returning with a brand new grinder. Lifting the grinder weights regularly has made me a mini Mary Kom in terms of biceps. And then came the real trivia. Idli batter is no joke. If you want to make it successfully you need to brush up those math lessons which are collecting cobwebs in some corner of the brain(?). Sixth grade flashback - remember that lesson in ratio and proportion?

So Raw Rice: Urad Dal: Fenugreek = 2:1:(1small spoon). Well, had I understood mathematics in its raw form during my school days, I would have four cooks in my kitchen today asking me what I’d like to eat for dinner. Well, I’ll choose not to talk about what could have happened and focus on not learning mathematics come what may. It takes a while until you can understand that, this formula when followed religiously does not yield soft yummy idlis. Sometimes it can bite on your back by producing idlis that can also be used as stones at the Secretariat march. Idlis are made by ‘experience’, which I would like to rename as ‘sheer luck’. The silver lining of going through all this pain is that, once you grind the batter and keep for fermentation, and it fails at the box office, the same can be used to make dosas. Dosas always come out crisp and yum even if the batter is not in a good mood. This saves me from a lot of batter related stress.

The first time I made idlis, the ones on the lowest rung of idli mould drowned and died.  This was celebrated as a family joke (initiated and marketed by my sister) that my idlis committed suicide. I am secretly planning to throw an idli at her one of these days. 

After a while I mastered the art of making “poo polathe*” idlis. That feeling of licking clean a plate of soft idlis is a form of emotional bliss that can be experienced only by South Indians. Well these idlis are so light on the tummy that it drives us to drink an extra cup of coffee or grab a few biscuits by 11 a.m., but that is not a downside.

So as I sat around pretending to be a master chef, and at other times singing from the rooftop about my newly found culinary skills, somewhere in the background, summer gave way to winter. I found out the hard and bitter way that batter does not ferment in winter. And it is exactly at winter when you really want to devour hot idlis and tea! It took me a lot of effort to stop myself from running to the nearest store and grab a pack of idli batter!  I googled all the culinary blogs and found some real gems which had tips about making idlis in winter. Muscat is as of now at 16 to 20 degrees, which is too cold for idli batter. I tried the water bath method, and then placed it in the oven with oven lights on throughout the night for around 12 hours in total. In the morning I woke up like a mother hen eager to check on her eggs. I opened the oven, and the batter vessel...and... eurekaa!

February. Cool Monday morning. The golden rays of the sun seeped through the window. The birds tapped and murmured against the glass windows. The doves flew past fluttering their wings. The cool breeze tickled the curtains. The coconut oil solidified. On the dining table was the casserole. In it was hot 'poo polathe*' idlis bathing in steam. There was some coconut chutney and a cup of tea for company. Pure bliss. 

*super soft

Picture courtesy:Google

Selfies for Dummies!

Recently when I went shopping, I saw a lot of girls clicking selfies completely oblivious of the surroundings. I was relieved because I thought I was being weird and narcissistic by clicking my own pictures all day. However for most guys this is something they don’t comprehend. Why blame them when even our spelling godfather Microsoft Word does not get it!  I just want to say …Dude we depend on you for all our spellings…update yourself!

Well for all those husbands/boyfriends/brothers/fathers out there who don’t understand what a selfie is, here are some insights.

A selfie is a self-portrait. Like you most probably believe, we DID NOT invent this word; it was included in the Oxford Dictionary from year 2013.

      We do not ask you to click our pictures anymore, and torment or embarrass you. When we are clicking a selfie, if you feel embarrassed you can just move out of the frame and act like a stranger. We will be really grateful.

      Most selfies are taken in restrooms. This is because corporate and mall restrooms are well lit. Do not complain, as you are probably waiting somewhere checking out some hot chics, or in the worst case inquiring when Apple is releasing the next iphone.

      A selfie is harmless. It hardly costs anything. We don’t even send our selfies to you.

      You may think why we need a selfie when there are mirrors everywhere. You are not expected to understand this.

     With selfies there is no dearth of profile pictures.

     Almost anyone looks like a celebrity in selfies.

     Selfies relieve us from stress and uplifts our confidence like no other.

      It is the most loved feel-good activity, after shopping and cupcakes.

      It is foolish to think that women who click a lot of selfies are self-obsessed. Yeah we are, but it is still foolish to think like that.

      If we click a lot of selfies it doesn’t mean that we are selfless.

      Selfies are not clicked only when we are wearing something new. Even a school uniform is reason enough.

      Selfie experts can pose like it was Dabboo Ratnani who clicked them by not showing their extended hands which holds the phone. This is no ordinary feat. 

      A good selfie involves some financial risk . Chances of the phone falling down when we are adjusting our hair cannot be ruled out. It is not a child's play, and moreover, it is not silly. 

      A selfie that turned out very well may not even need to go under the editing knife! It is a real time saver!

      Selfies with friends rejuvenates friendship and keeps memories alive. We do not lose patience if we have to click countless pictures just to make sure everyone looks good. When everyone agrees on one, that is one of those moments when we have bonded for life.

So next time she takes a selfie at the mall, or takes more time at the restroom, you know what to do. Just stop asking and keep walking.