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Getting lost and then finding the new me(Story to be told) in midst of the crowd.

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Packa chiki packachiki raja babu

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One look and your cant help yourself from falling in love

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Thank god Its summer and I can see the colors

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I was lost in the beauty, cold weather ,green grass, wooden bench and heart warming welcome by the Pigeons. IMG_20160503_123835493

Trees in all size and shape

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Trees add colors to the street

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And Then there are buildings

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All wanted was to lay down on the bed of grass and get lost in the nature. Love, beauty in every single part of country.

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Then there was the pub which I had to stand and watch wondering…

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The well maintained streets

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It was like every tiny brick of the city placed carefully

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Yes baby, Its London

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I cant stop myself from falling in love with this pic. So what its not me but just a stranger, its just picture perfect

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And here is “London-Bridge”I said. “Are you sure this is the one? look at the water its so dirty”

I rolled my eyes and said “According to google map this is the one. If any London Bridge exist surrounded by clean water I dont know”.

Nisha :”I cant believe it”

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Young Jack is in wait for his Kate

IMG_20160503_140123436White is My current favorite color

UK Day 1

Posted: May 2, 2016 in TransOceanic
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Country goose aka enku pnamabur was finally in UK, that too on her own. Defiantly scared, but she walked her head held high with confidence.

“Use your common sense” my cousin advice echoed. As I walked I saw COSTA Café and I felt relaxed no matter where you go there will be something reminding you of your sweet home. As I pushed my trolley with my bags at the airport though the warm cozy exit gate the cold wind hit my face and all I wanted was to turn back and get inside the warmth of airport. Scared I was I might wet my pants with bone chilling cold I ran towards the waiting room. One visit to cold country and you will know the meaning of winter (Winter is coming, it’s not funny anymore). Thank god I was landed in summer if it was winter I would have caught the next flight back to Bangalore, winter is not meant for us especially for those who get fried in hot summer like a dry fish.

“You better book cab mam” advice of the guy who issued the ticket echoed in my ears. “It’s late and not safe”. “Not safe?UK not safe?India I agree men carry the bombs in their pants but UK?He must be fucking kidding me” I told myself over and over. Rubbing my frozen finger against each other and blowing some hot air as I waited for my ride. When a tall, pretty lady got down from the bus I was bit relaxed. Dumping my bag I ran towards the warm sanctuary of the bus. Leaning my head against the window I tried to make sense of huge planes, parked cars but when my eyelids tried to become one I fought with all my will scared to pit I might miss my stop. Tired I was with my day started at 4.40AM GMT and lasted till 11.00PM BST, I longed for a bath and warm bed. I prayed to god to be merciful, but against my will I dozed off like how they do in BMTC bus. Then I sat blinking my eyes like how a bird shakes its feathers after the dip in the water, patter, patter patter.

I reached my destination safely cluttering teeth and with already dead bones. I felt heavenly after having hot water bath. But one can’t have bath like water buffalo, sprinkling the water to next one acre. We need to be careful not to spill the water outside the bath tub, most irritating thing. Also I am scared that one day I might topple while soaping my feet and hit my head to the marble toilet and die, instant death and 4 hours after my death they will find my life gone body in land of tubs and tissues.

After having my bath carefully not to spill the water I was exhausted. Bathrooms scream and tell you to spill the water but UK bathrooms tell you to maintain the dryness.

When my head hit the pillow I slept like kumbakarna straight 11 hours without a care in the world.

Next day when I got up I was in for a surprise. Side pipe(the one you use to wash your tushie) was missing. “Oella, What to do now” I said wondering. But When I saw the familiar bucket and mug I smiled. What we Indians would have done without our dear bucket and mug I just wondered.

Days are warm with cold wind while nights are chilly. Warm double blanket or warm body to snuggle is recommended sad I don’t have bothL

After having my late breakfast when I went for grocery shopping I felt nostalgic. So what I am far from my home but there will something close to you to remind you of your home. “CHURCHSTREET” for a moment I felt I am in Bangalore.

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Rest of the day I did nothing but sleep. Even though I cant see the sun set and sun rise in India somehow my body does. I am up at 5 in the morning (nuns waking time) rolling, tossing watching the already risen sun. Jet lag sounds all fancy when you hear but when you suffer from it, you really understand the complexity behind the two tiny little words.

For a mango girl who lived in her cocoon, traveled by namma metro, bought groceries from MK retails, when UK called with wide open arms she didn’t think twice before boarding the packed Flight. After all she always wanted to see the countryside, swans swim in the pool, smell the red roses, gigantic, magnificent old castles (Effect of romantic novels, definitely not the liquor), Her Highness and Her highness’s cute chubby grandson.

It’s my first day in UK and I still cant believe I am living my dream. But I still miss my country, namma Bangalore, rice and dal. Wearing my brothers over size thermal wear and woolen socks I contemplate how these Britt’s can bear such heart chilling cold. All I can think is hot water, hot milk, hot chocolate, hot meal but defiantly not the panty soaking Bangalore’s hot summer.

When I waved my good friend Miss S. Hegdae at KIA , with packed bags, heavy heart, tons of advice(Thank you Vibha, Siva,Sri, Ananth,S Hegdae, Loly, Nisha, my brother, Mr G, Psycho(my sis))and misty eyes I was bit scared. Travelling on my own to a country never seen before, people never known before is something I never did before.

 

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“Use your common sense, everybody has it but no one uses It.” when my cousin said I laughed my lungs out wondering whether he thinks I am dumb or too smart to travel on my own

“I am just saying I know your smart but use your common sense” he stressed. Three years younger to me, it was always me who advised him and just like that he changed the role.

“Love you SnL” when my spoiled brats (niece and nephew) screamed on the phone I couldn’t  control the newly found stream. I will miss nieces 5th bday, nephews first day at school, lot more photo session, nothing comes with a price.

Nothing much happened at the Indira Gandhi International airport except for lots of running, like a Maze runner to catch the connected flight. Second time in my life I ran in international airport like a crazy nut to catch my flight.

Anything for London I said following the boarding queue. I prayed to my stars to be lucky, to have gorgeous company of handsome Irish or Scottish dudes for the long journey of 9 hours (greedy we all are, but for the moment I crossed my boundary). When I saw my seat mates, a lady complaining loudly in Hindi seated at the window seat, a guy around 24 to 25 seated next to her, a light orange color towel pressed to his nose, minding his own business and his cold while I grumbled dropping on my aisle seat.

“So where do you study?” when the guy asked me I couldn’t help myself but smile. Darn, it feels so good to be young for a minute.(Thank god I don’t have to forge my marks card to show I am young when I get married)

“I work” I said while the lady continued over the phone “We are sitting separately, hanji, I am here and he is there. It’s so unfair…”

“Are you having a gala time” I asked the guy looking at the lady. He forgot to see the mockery in my voice. (I was trying to be cool like a typical Hindi hero). What’s with Northy ladies and their complaints I wondered.

“Are you alone or this young lady is with you” a man in his late 60’s asked the guy sitting next to me.

“You go back to your seat, I don’t want you to sit with me” the lady dictating her order loudly and shook her head, her bob cut hair followed her head while we both, the guy and me, sat quietly waiting the bomb to explode while the man smiled sweetly and said “I want to sit next to my wife, it’s our anniversary, I wanted to send you to business class” the man said looking at the boy. The lady said “No darling, I don’t want you to sit here, go back to your seat, It’s long journey”.

Its such a cute, lovable thing to do, he was ready to sacrifice his business class seat for his wife while his wife wanted him to sit in business class because he has knee problem. I felt ashamed of myself for being judgmental.

“Happy wedding anniversary mam, and Sir” we both, wished them.

“How many years of togetherness you are celebrating” I asked the lady.

“It’s our 39th anniversary” she said proudly. I envied them seeing their love for each other, their care and their sacrifice. In this generation where husband wife find reasons to run away from each other here was old couple still madly in love with each other, were looking for reasons to be together. There are no boundaries for true love, it exist rare it might be.

With misty eyes I couldn’t sit in my place and do nothing watching the old couple desperately want to be together. I walked like a fearless soldier and requested an air hostess, apparently a male. When I explained the whole scenario all he said was “sorry mam, we cant do anything”(If I was some celebrity defiantly you would have done something, you suck).  I walked back to my seat defeated, what else a Mangalorean mango girl can do?.

Back to my seat I fasten the seat belt. “This is best part” I told the guy when the plane left the Indian ground with a promise to be back soon. He looked at me and smiled and I smiled back(trust me that’s it, nothing more)

When he got to know for the first time I am travelling he shared all his knowledge and special warning not to leave my bag anywhere.

“Mam, you’re requested to come to business class, I have spoken to the captain” A guy dressed in light aqua color polo shirt told the lady.

“Omg, what you guys are upto” she said escorted by the guy.

Thank god there were people who couldn’t see the old couple’s suffering.

When she was back there was million dollar smile on her face and piece of cake in her hand.

“This is for you both my young friends she said” handing the cake to the guy seated next to me. She was such a lovely ,jovial lady who was still in love with her husband

“I didn’t get your name” I asked the guy after all he was very sweet to me

“Rajath” he said and asked for mine

“Sylvia” I said showing my teeth

I never met anyone especially guy who can be sweet and helping to a stranger.

I sat there closing my eyes, taking deep breathes when the captain announced the plane will land in 20 minutes. My new journey in new country was waiting for me and I was calming my anxious nerves

“Are you scared” Rajath asked me

“No actually, just bracing myself for the new journey “ I said. Even though I didn’t ask him he offered me his phone and said “call your home”. If he was not a guy I would have hugged him for being so sweet and helpful to me. So far I have met flirty, silent, talkative guys and here was a guy being so sweet to me even though I didn’t know him.

London welcomed with wide open arms, lots of promises and tons of experience. I may be on my own but its nice, I might be scared but that’s ok, I might have to struggle but that’s manageable. I am finally in a country I always wanted to be, that too on my own:)

uk2                           Yes, its true I am in London .I know its hard to believe.

Stay tuned to know the London stories:)

My New Obsession

Posted: April 20, 2016 in My Silly thoughts

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My latest obsession is to have a 5 cm radius patli kamar(looks like dream). Annoying 2 kg’s of side slabs on either side of my tummy like side pockets and everyday growing belly gives me extra menstrual cramps with my regular ones. Thanks to my desk job(May be I should give a try with agriculture with my dad) My bones may look like rain overflown naked stones but I still got some extra fat here and there. I may not have MRF tires but definitely BSA-SLR.
Getting up early is not every birdy’s thing specially Owls, but thanks to Bangalore’s body itching, panty soaking sweat and heat I don’t find my solace in loving arms of my bed anymore.
On the blessed day I dusted my running shoes, kept my clothes and IPOD ready, setting the alarm with hope to see the rising sun with shining rays I went to sleep. When the alarm rang I murdered it mercilessly murmuring “Hell with patli kamar and hell with jogging, who is going to see me anyways” . Second day with great difficulty, after snoozing the alarm 5 times I was up to feel the freshness of the morning after a decade.Making sure my puppies dont jiggle every step I take, there were numerous morning walkers come spectators, I jogged and when my energy ran out in the half round I walked listening to Richard Marx sing Angelia in his sexy voice. Regular walkers were glaring at me, “Summer?rainy season?winter?till when?, many have come many have gone only we have remained forever” their look told me about their thoughts.
I was worried my new schedule will affect my pooping schedule(they totally go hand in hand). But now I am a happy person, nobody told me running eases your whole shitting process. If you have constipation you should try running more than eating banana it helps trust me.
Its funny to see old, close the grave men standing and admiring women tushie’s secretly(Spectacular view, when the big ass takes a swing from left to right)I am sure that’s what keeps their heart beating. Then there are lazy hippopotamus who just lay their weight on the bench and watch. They turn left, right and sit still watching the mute fauna and walking people. Again it need lots of focus and demotivation to sit and do nothing when the park is so tempting. Ladies do maintain their upper hand in talking even during the morning walk.In one hour they would spend 10 minutes walking and 5 minutes seeing the sky, grass, and twisting their hands and 45 minutes gossiping.
.Even though I am tempted to stretch my body a little bit, jump little higher I save the view to the closed four walls of my house. I envy the men pregnant with beer and fat belly stretch right in the middle of the park without any worry. There are few women who stretch behind the shadow of then swing and slide knowing hidden from the manly man stare.
Its almost two weeks now except for couple of days I haven’t missed my jogging. Tiring it may be but its refreshing. My mind can venture in any direction without a care in the world while my body is shelling little by little extra fat. Now when my jeans slips I jump with joy pulling it up. I haven’t got the Patli kamar yet but I am sure soon I will, fingers are crossed

Some SightSeeing

Posted: April 7, 2016 in My Silly thoughts
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Bangalore’s butt itching hot weather and crazy traffic, as I was bored I thought I will go on some sightseeing. Luckily, I got entry into IT company without any ID card. I felt heavenly for having the privilege to roam freely without any tag around my neck.

As I fluttered my wings and flew I saw these humans immersed in front of the machine, “tak tak tak” pressing some keys all time. I flew and these humans “ohhhhh’ed seeing the uninvited guest, few humans with tail wailed “Mummy, mummy”. I took my sweet time and sat at the corner laughing and “hanhaing”, dumb cows were acting as if my time they are seeing me. Hope they know the small-egg shaped-white color-light-weight poop, commonly found in balcony, terrace belongs to me. Some took out their small instrument and went on click click while I flew over and over.

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At some point of time I felt I have their full attention, more than their boss. Felt like celestial. I was just enjoying my visit when they spoiled everything by trying to capture me. I flew escaping the waiting hands. But before I could leave my trade mark, my shit, they caught hold of me and threw me out of the window. Within fraction of second the gilly was over and they were back into their machine.

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Jesus Christ came to earth to save the humankind from SIN, so that ….I am sure you know the rest of story about this dude, Jesus with long hair till shoulder and over grown beard (Isn’t he cool, he had an eye for fashion). So I will save all my effort to put you to sleep.

Happy good Friday”, last year my team member, a IT guy wished me with broad smile shaking my hand as if I am going to celebrate the day eating chicken leg, pork Bafat with Sanna and glass of chilled beer or wine. I looked at his Mysore-born-bought-body head to toe wondering which part of his body is sheltering his GK.

Lifeless, only-study 11th and 12th with extra couching classes to get a seat in CET, pressure to maintain 75% attendance in BE, top Indian companies blunt interview denial because of low SSLC marks, girlfriends betrayal after spending all pocket money on her alter neck, G string and nail polish, struggle to crack the aptitude test to get a decent job, battle to survive in Idly-Vada-Color-rice famous Bangalore with monthly 10K salary , sacrifice of holidays and weekends to make the clients happy,melancholy over the fucked up appraisal…” lost and defeated in the race of life I neither laughed at him, nor mocked him. I didn’t wanted to spoil his merry mood, all thanks to his new sexy girlfriend (Bike I am talking about, not mammal with breast (and yeah we are mammals, google said)) I chuckled busying myself with my morning routine “checking my mails”.

There is nothing good about good Friday macha, in a way it is, but not in a celebrating way” I slowly started my KT.

Really, I didn’t know” honesty was reflecting on his still glasses-free eyes.

Yeah, macha. Its sad day because it’s the day Jesus, died on cross, we humans did that to him. We can’t eat MEAT, can wear anything but read, spend as much as time in solitude praying, FASTING , mourning and attending mass and way of the cross. ” I said

Sinking deeper in the guilt, avoiding my eyes he said “sorry, Lobo(I like this guy, he calls me by my surname) I didn’t know this”

That’s ok macha, you can wish me Happy Easter, “it’s the day Jesus resurrected from his death.We can eat meat, wear red, dance to Shakira’s “hips-don’t-lie”,I tried to put him at ease

Thanks for that info Lobo, I feel very knowledgeable now” he said patting my hand on the mouse. There was it his IT pride back on its place. I nodded my head, sure as hell, earth and life after, that as soon as he reach his bay first thing he will do is Google about Good-Friday(that is what we are doing since we left college)

Not yet, but in a while, you will be” I whispered as he walked to his bay.

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7 years back I Googled the meaning of my name and I went into depression. I avoided looking at sexy, mechanical branch engineering guys with rugged look dressed in gray uniform, in college, ceased admiring my dimple-less cheeks in the mirror and stopped humming Hindi songs while pooping.

One who comes from jungle” I had answered my mam without blinking my eyes when she had asked meaning of my name in lab of LEX and YACC. (Same ma’am who takes the full credit for awakening the sleeping heads with bells).

She had smiled, show casing her white teeth, hidden by neatly applied dark pink lipstick, she took her sweet time while I pressed key after key to execute my stuck script. All curious she said “Oh really!,did your father tell you that”, her thin well shaped left eye brow had the reached the peak of her forehead with curiosity

No Ma’am, Google did” I had replied cursing my dad.

I don’t know whether my dad was on weed when he chose that name for me. I understand bad choice of his wife but he was the intelligent one who scored 100 in maths. Instead of choosing a name which rhymes with his darling-platinum-elder-daughter he should have chosen some sexy enchanting name like Ophelia, Amanda, Jenny, Daisy, April, June, Kiara or traditional, easily pronounced name like Lakshmi, Savithri, Geetha, Amrutha, Sharada.

I was getting used to the idea that meaning of my name sucks big time when I heard my name murdered mercilessly in the nerdy-but-blonde-IT-world. ‘a’ was stabbed, ‘l’ disappeared and I devoured my anger and controlled my itching hands cursing my dad all time, my sins are not counted, he is the one to blame.

Serbia”-yes I am Serbian tiger;Gurrr, “Saliva”-please don’t call me that I am human being, not some watery substance which helps in food digestion, “Sylvi”-Don’t swallow ‘a’, it’s very dear to me, “Syllu” yeah I am another species of Ullu(Owl)

When Loly’s (the same pretty lady who blinks her eyes 100 times/sec) mommy calls me “Sylvi”, Loly giggles and looks at me while I turn from brown to red and then again back to brown swallowing my irritation. Auntie is such a darling I never felt like correcting her. When she goes on saying “Sylvi” in every sentence, I add “a” in mind and show my bunny teeth.

You can call me Lobo, I don’t mind ” I had told several times. It’s kinda sexy and adds exotic spices.(Dad, by any chance if my sir name was Pinto, I would have sued you for eternity), but still dumb, ignorant people insist on addressing me by my first name, miss- pronouncing every single time, ”Thika Ganchali”, I tell you (lets learn some Kannada).

How you pronounce your name” I ask people when I see some jumbled up spelling, KoraKutti, Kurapati, Gatla (apparently they all are names), and it doesn’t harm my ego. I don’t know why people cant to the same thing. Most of my team members ,Biryani-lover-Telagites have slaughtered my name over and over, infinite times. Now I am just left with a hope someday, someway they’ll realize their mistake while chewing the chicken bone, how they hurt my sentiments. After all its my name no matter what it means I still love it.

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