The favourite films [currently]viewed often by ......[as divined by me]

1.L. Modi -----Mackenna's gold.

2.S. Tharoor---------.Cleopatra.

3.M. Gupta --------The spy who loved me .

Cosseting.

When I see toddlers of labourers sitting quietly before a plate of rice and polishing it of to the last particle I can't but hark back to my past.

I had to chase my toddlers , spin several stories and divert their attention by showing them crows and squirrels in the morning and the setting sun and the moon at night and slip in a morsel of food in mouths open in surprise and never in hunger.Each day was a tussle [ an enjoyable one though]between me and my kids as to who would outsmart the other !Weren't they hungry or was it that they couldn't stomach unfamiliar foods to our palate like 'cerelac and farex' the baby foods prescribed by doctors ?
To several of my peers feeding time was literally an exhausting battle of wills . Feeding the child forcibly was the general rule . Mothers would pin down their kicking and wailing child and were satisfied only when they successfully managed to push down nutrients into tiny gullets.This foolishness hasn't ended . I still see mothers of current generation of toddlers continuing this abhorrent feeding practises.

Our ancient stories and poems are also replete with mothers cajoling and tricking their children to eat by showing the moon.This seems to be the pattern of rearing children in well off house holds from time immemorial !

I stop in surprise and pause in amazement every time I come across a child eating quietly and dutifully with no fawning or cajoling parents hovering by , all by itself out side a hut or on pebbles ,mud or on rocks in the open where the child's parents are toiling ,breaking the ground and erecting buildings or under the shade of the mobile iron carts!

I have spent hours boiling water and then cooling them before allowing my children to drink it.I have also spent several gruelling hours vacuum cleaning the entire house so that a not a speck of dust be around, to trigger allergic sneezing fits..Yet they were often down with fever ,catching some infection or the other from unavoidable contact with the outside.

I can't but marvel at the sturdiness [ or immunity] of the children of the poor .They drink any water, roll on mud and dust,get soaked to the skin in rains, sweat it out in the sun and barring some skin infections are seldom down with fever !

Of what use is this cosseting and excessive attention showered on kids in middle class societies that results only in obesity, lack of self esteem , delicate sensibilities , allergies and asthma? All that is required is teaching a few basic survival skills [parental love and affection being presumed]and allow nature to do the rest!

Garden city.

Few decades back Madras looked as arid as rain fed fields did in summer.The palm trees scattered scantily added to the feeling of living in a desert.

Bangalore then was a picturesque town with tiny hillocks that sloped into gentle green valleys bordered with gaily blooming rose in shades and fragrance that was breathtaking !The lush greenery was a grand feast to my eyes that were used to the stark barrenness and the dust and heat of Madras.

A couple of years earlier when I visited Bangalore after a gap of 20 years or so , I couldn't believe my eyes! As far I could see there were no trees or flowers that were once dime a dozen and lavished riotously on road sides. It had become bare ,dusty ,and noisy . It could no longer lay claim to its once proud tittle ' Garden city'.

When I landed back in Chennai I was greeted by greenery. I see different city now. Roads are lined with generous canopy of trees and residential cum commercial areas like T.Nagar,Adayar Alwarpet ,etc are drenched in the shade of aromatic flower bearing trees!

The careful and sincere tree planting exercise undertaken two decades ago has paid rich dividends. A city that looked as dusty as a wild west town in Holly wood films has now very many pockets of tree lined avenues surpassing the beauty of the once famed Garden city .

Trees not only provide shade to weary wayfarers but also absorb noise ,radiate coolness as well as a sense of peace and tranquility.It takes but a mug of water fed to saplings on alternate days for just year to transform, drab and dusty surroundings into posh and sophisticated tree lined avenues!

Child labourers.

I felt a stab of guilt whilst eating food that I had ordered in a restaurant in a hill station , as it was served by a boy no bigger than mine.There was no smile on his face.

The summer vacation came to an end and it was school time again . I was filled with a feeling of helplessness when I saw my boy trudge back home lugging a heavy school bag over his shoulders and his back bent under its weight like that of a Sherpa carting loads up, on mountaineering expeditions.

He couldn't shrug off his school even at home ,since his teachers had given him pages upon pages of home work, that had to be done that day and every day there after . The smile had also vanished from his face.

Finals.

I was caught in the horns of dilemma. I didn't follow or keep track of the rigmarole of matches leading up to the finals. But the finals being a clear cut event with one team pitted against another ,I was dismayed when I settled down to watch it on T.V.

The evergreen super star of Indian cricket -Sachin and the current super star -Dhoni [my two favourites] were pitted against each other . Since Dhoni represented Chennai ,I ought to support him ,but could I ?

All the fortnight long of mudslinging in theIPL barracks paled into insignificance at this unnatural clash of the titans.

After hearing the stirring rendition of 'Vande mataram' by A.R. Rehman in a glitzy opening ceremony I did the best possible . I switched channels.

T 10

`The news channels have stumbled upon yet another story and are going for the kill ,baying for IPL 's blood.The govt has unleashed a troop of I.T sleuths who are in the thick of raids on the offices of the franchisees of the IPL , that is sneeringly referred to as Indian paisa league and Indian political league alternatively by the media.

The amount of money churned, mentioned in dollars and in the millions , the bone of contention, is as baffling to me as the composition of the team and the nonstop cricketing .

I could follow the matches , if I tried to ,when played between India and other countries like Australia , Pakistan and others .I have often cheered Sachin or Dhoni when they hit patriotic sixers and centuries.. At present I see all players of the world mixed up together , in teams bearing exotic names and espy them hopping on and off planes and buses in the blink of an eye , traversing the lengtht and breadth of the entire country and playing matches after matches relentlessly , to packed stadiums .This is simply beyond my comprehension .

The dark observations of the media regarding the shoddy role of politicians in this 'mela' is making the viewers anticipate with bated breath ,the disclosure of the identity of persons likely to face the guillotine.

Unmindful of all this din in the drawing and board rooms, matches are being played out there in the open cheered lustily by millions!

I have this uncanny feeling ,that if yet another person jumps in with the novel idea of 10 overs cricket or even 5 overs cricket , Indians would in all possibility embrace the new format with equal gusto and give it a roaring reception .Life would be nothing then, but one long 'cricket carnival '`!

Cowgate and cattleloo !

The sleek and snazzy minister with luminious cow like melting eyes , mercurial rise and fall is dogged by 'cattle'.

He first shot into fame in the net world by his ra(u)nchy 'cattle class' comments.His thunderous fall thereafter is tethered firmly to one Ms 'Pushkar' the name that is associated with the famous 'cattle market' .

The cattle that opened the twitterers gate's to heady fame have also plunged him to his Waterloo!

Adrift.

A chief justice of a neighbouring state weathered all the protests of practising lawyers and barbs of the media for acquiring vast swathes of land in this state with unflappable cheer.In a recent development he was shifted to the other corner of India as the CJ of a smaller state that is buried in the snowy depths of Himalayas !

A couple of decades earlier this state was unapproachable and could be reached only by long and arduous travel ,first by train and then by horse back.But now one can be in Sikkhim in a jiffy . And the news zoomed back that the lawyers of that High court were up in arms against this shunting of a tainted person to preside over them .They wanted to know in what way they were lesser mortals than those in a state he was not allowed to preside ?

The judge seems to be hanging in mid air .None of the lawyers want him !

This peculiar situation reminds me of the predicament of Trishanku in our ancient lore.Once sage Vishwamitra sent his ardent devotee Trishanku , on his plea,in his mortal form to the heavens and the enraged celestials pushed him back to earth ,since a person can reach the heavens only after shedding his body .This defiance of the Devas irked the volatile Viswamitra who again sent his devotee back to the heavens only to see him, plummeted back to the earth !
The Devas didn't want him and the sage couldn't let his devotee down . Trishanku was thus tossed around and was suspended in mid air !He was neither here nor there !

A rapprochement was finally reached between the two warring parties and the sage created a separate heaven out of his yogic powers, several notches lesser in importance than that of the Devas presided over by Indra, and seated Trishanku on its throne! This came to be known as Trishanku Swargam.

Meritorious service.

A person had in recent past written in the Sunday edition of an newspaper about how the much reviled' public servants' came forward to help his friend suffering from a heart attack in a train . He has a bagfull of words of praises to all those duty conscious Railway officials and doctors who didn't charge penny for the warm and kind hearted services rendered as a matter of course , ungrudgingly.

This brings to my mind the kindness of two officials of 'Delhi Transport Corporation' ,which was then notorious for paucity of fleets and erratic timings, a driver and a supervisor.It was the first day of my public exams[1974] and not a single bus was in sight that would take me to a destination 15 kms away from where I was put up- EPDP colony a suburb where buses were the only mode of transportation , in order to reach the venue to give my board exams.

My father and brothers had already left to their work places in different corners of Delhi, earlier. I was in a fix .I agitatedly enquired the driver and supervisor standing nearby regarding the time of arrival of the particular route bus . I was close to tears.On coming to know that I had to give my board exams in an hours time they immediately diverted another route bus waiting at the bus stand , towards the exam centre ,situated in a less frequented pocket of KarolBagh.They bade me luck and assured me that the bus would run at the same time to the same destination till the last day of my exams! [ 1 month] And it did !!

I got a state rank , finding a place in the merit list which secured me admission in the prestigious and topmost college then, L.S.R to the highly coveted Economic Honours without a hitch,with every other branch for my asking and received merit scholarship for the entire duration of my under graduates studies from the govt .

I have never forgotten the kindness shown by those two govt servants- two total strangers towards me, at the nick of the time and the promise that was kept with my gratitude as the only fee, all through these years.

Incurable.

Three issues that will bedevil India for generations to come are ----

1. The Kashmir problem :The tug of war between Pakistan and India over its ownership and control.

2. Ayodhya:To build a temple or mosque or both .

3. Women's reservation bill : To pass it or not to pass it .

Whenever a solution seems within grasp it mysteriously slips away !

Blog censors?

What ever I may write ---innane to the divine I am assured of constant viewership!

The seven vows.

Most of us are of the view that a Hindu marriage is completed by tying the knot ---i.e --Thali and quickly make a beeline to the dining hall after congratulating the couples.

The tying of the knot is only symbolical.The marriage which is considered as a religious sacrament is complete only when the couple take seven steps around the sacred fire.

I became aware of the significance of Saptapadi or seven steps only when I studied law ,wherein the Hindu Marriages Act recognises the completion of 7 steps around the sacred fire as a valid marriage. Per chance , if the couple are unable to complete all the 7 steps and circuits , though progressing up to the 6 th , the marriage is invalid !

Nearly all of us miss the actual marriage and abandon the couple and the priest on the podium to go through the actual rituals of a valid Hindu marriage all by themselves . They cut a sorry picture , lonely at a time when they ought to be surrounded by friends and relatives , to witness the most important event of their life!

I must confess here that though I was aware of the significance of 'Sapthapadi when I got married , the meaning of the words chanted by the priest and repeated by us , were all Dutch [ Sanskrit] to me . It was only a decade later that I came to know of the meanings of those words .Every couple ought to know the meaning of the vows they exchange at the ceremony ,itself . This will bind them together and inspire and encourage them to lead a happy , meaningful and a prosperous life .

Married life would become a 'duet' and not a' duel' if they implicitly follow the vows they take together.Family is the bedrock of society .A committed and a happy couple will contribute greatly to the peace and prosperity of a society. Another significance of marriage is that any major yaga can be initiated by a person only if he is accompanied by his consort . Only she can light the fire .
The meaning of the vows taken in each phera or circumbulation around the sacred fire -- Agni that are never to be broken,stated briefly, are as follows.

In the first phera the vow taken is to request god to give plenty of nourishing food and ability to lead a respectable life.

In the second phera they vow to lead a healthy and peaceful life by developing mental and physical strengths.

In the third phera or circuit the couples invoke the god for spiritual strength.

In the fourth phera they pledge to lead a happy and long married life through mutual love ,respect, understanding and trust .

In the fifth phera an vow is taken to expand their lineage by having children , for whom they will be responsible and pray that ,they may be endowed with noble children

In the sixth phera they take an oath to go through all seasons of life together sharing joys and sorrows.

At the last phera i e the seventh circumbulation the couple take a vow to be true and loyal to each other and to remain companions and best of friends .

After exchanging these vows the couple agree to be companions forever.

The bride and the groom also say the following after completing the seven steps or saptapadi .....

''Since we have taken the seven steps together you have become mine and I have become yours . Here after I cannot live without you . Donot live without me . You are thought and I am sound .May , the night,the morning,the earth, the heavens , the plants and the sun be honey sweet to us . May the cow yield us honey sweet milk. As the heavens , the earth, the mountains and the whole universe is stable like wise may our union be stable and everlasting!

All those poor cows.....

All those poor cows , I can hear them moo piteously .

What with irradiated rosy red apples ,yellow pears and bright red tomatoes never showing the slightest sign of decay even after months adorning the racks of supermarkets and thence my kitchen shelves , and with plans to introduce vegetables that will all be so perfect that none can be discarded,what will I feed the friendly ,hungry neighbourhood roving cow with?

Gowns and shoes.

India is huge country. There is something or the other happening in every corner of the country.It could be a natural calamity, bomb blasts or insurgencies.It could also be dramatic scenes,orchestrated by our entertaining politicians providing the Prozac to my prosaic existence.

My attention was so riveted on the Sania soap [the dust has settled now] that the interesting news trumpeted by all TV news channels,that of a minister throwing away the ridiculously colourful convocation gown and just stopped short of jumping and stomping on it , blasting away at the archaic colonial hang up of wearing such gowns , that it eludes my memory as to when it took place Before ,or in between the torrid triangular tourney!

The news channels are having a field day . There is simply no dearth of news.With instant visuals and the alarming Breaking News stickers running every second of every day , what would have been a small news tucked away in a obscure corner of the newspaper and quickly flicked over a decade back , has now become a 'must see 'news item along with scorching debates by live wire pundits pitted against each other in pitched battles!

Now to get back to the gown throwing tantrum , I do find a point there.Because I have suffered several suffocating days in summers [ which is the only season in Chennai] in those awfully morbid black gowns and the choking collar an advocate is called upon to don ,to present ,argue his or her case,yada, yada [etc] in the courts of law .

The conditions of men is more pitiable . Apart from the mandatory gown, they have to wear a thick drab black coat over a full sleeves shirts buttoned up to to the collar, as well as tie , shoes and socks!

Only a few courts in the Madras High Court complex are air conditioned . All the rest ----lower courts within the complex and most Moffusil courts are not and are small and dingy with dangerously swirling rickety fans overhead and are packed to capacity with lawyers and litigants.

Rivers of sweat flow freely and tinder's of tempers are lit at the slightest provocation .The sight of tall and hefty lawyers, swooshing around their black gowns furiously and swooping down on their prey [ clients]is so unnerving that it reminds one of the count Dracula on the prowl!

I am all for discarding and dumping these 'black' vestiges of colonial rule .This would be a great relief to all lawyers and would make them appear more human and approachable.

Another totally torturous hang over of our colonial past ---is stuffing all school going children 's feet into socks and shoes in a city and state that has no winter at all.

I am looking forward to the day when the education minister hurls away, shoes and socks in a function of a school he is invited to preside . That day would perhaps herald the deliverance of all school children from this feet bandaging [ reminiscent of aristocratic Chinese women 's fettish to keep their feet tiny in earlier times] and they could all happily wear chappals and light sandals to schools , more suited to our climate .

Conversation.

There are many a times ,I am physically exhausted ,mentally spent and emotionally drained .

Whenever I think of capping my pen , the request of Vidat, beseeches me and I know that I have no choice but to talk to him all over again.There were no promises extracted nor any given ,yet I intend to keep it as long as I possibly can.

The conversations continues .

Markers of women in power.

Sujatha [ not me ] ,the popular Tamil writer once observed that women on assuming power and control over their male counterparts would ,99 /100 ,cut their hair short [ copying the the crop cut of men] or cover themselves from head to foot!

This Sujata [me] concurs absolutely with this astute view of the late Sujatha.

Indira Ghandhi the undisputed leader of all those milling and mulling congressmen and P.M of India for several years had a short and fuzzy hairstyle with a single streak of distinguished white running through.
Jayalalitha the one and only leader of AIDMK after MGR's exit and C.M of TN for several years covered her sari with a matching , short and uniquely designed gown .It was so cute and original that had she not discarded it under criticism [ from who else --male opposition leaders] it would have been a trend setter for other women in power.

Mayawathi , Nirupama Rao , Kiran bedi , Indira Nooyi , wielders of power over men have a short hairstyle similar to men !

Mamata and Jayalalitha have spared their hair but have covered themselves in yards of saree , not exposing even an quarter of an inch , to the gaze of men they lord over.

A recent entry to this trend is Sushma swaraj ,who has of late started donning a waist coat.

P.S :My hair is long .And I am not covered from head to foot.

Did he or did'nt he?

Machiavelli was a controversial philosopher belonging to 16 th century Europe.
He has observed that women required to be beaten regularly to make them obey!The younger the man , more willingly would a woman see reason.

He compares 'fortune ' to women in his treatise 'Prince '.The following is his observation-----
''It is better to be impetuous than cautious, as fortune is a woman and it is necessary ,in order to keep her under, to beat her.Fortune like woman is the friend of young men because they are less cautious , more spirited and with more boldness master her. Fortune like women need aggressive as opposed to effeminate men to dominate her ,otherwise she will take advantage.''

I agree that women are generally scatter brained and do not get a grasp of things as men seem to effortlessly. [ It has been scientifically proved that a woman's brain is smaller than a man's].I also agree with his view that women prefer their men around them [ ie husband,son and so on] to be aggressive . I am also in total consonance with his observation that a woman would readily pay heed to a younger man .But I disagree with the view that a woman's submission is guaranteed by merely wielding the lathi. Her wilful acquiescence can be got only when she knows and feels that the man respects her feelings and has her welfare at his heart.

One night at the age of 58 Machiavelli died of food poisoning. Was his wife still around ?If so did or didn't he beat her that day before his meal was prepared?

Jaggiah.

I was watching a serial on TV about the life of a man in Karnataka ,whose waking hours revolves around catching snakes and rearing them in his house.He also prepares anti venom serum.He canvases to all people he happens to comes across not to kill snakes.His wife and two young daughters handle the snakes coolly ,like as if they are harmless little infants !These snakes have a free run of their house ,coiling on beds and sofas ,hanging from atop the fridge and bask languidly in the smells and warmth of the kitchen!

Seeing this slithering show I was suddenly reminded of Jaggiah.

The dark ,bare chested ,muscular ,young and fiery looking gardener of C.F.T.R.I.,at Mysore where my father worked as its administrative officer. [1960's]

That enclave consisting of the erstwhile Mysore Maharani's palace converted into a Central govt office and housing its employees in old and modern buildings in and around it ,had become a haven for all the snakes of Mysore.

It had a lot of shrubbery stretching in acres of rolling verdancy.And as Mysore city got concretised ,all the snakes sought sanctuary in this sole remaining patch of luxuriant greenery.It was teeming with snakes of every size and colour.They were everywhere ,crossing the roads casually, slithering inside the office and houses,swaying from trees and dangling from arched gateways !They literally held the office and the colony hostage and its employees and inhabitants had to tread warily even in broad daylight ! Less said about the nights ,the better.

The officials put their heads together and it was decided to pay the gardeners Rs 10 [a meaty sum in those days] for killing a snake .Yet few snakes were killed . They still had the run of the colony . The reason , most of the snakes were cobras which no Hindu would dare strike, for fear of incurring the wrath of gods.

It was at this juncture that Jaggiah made his entry into the colony as a newly appointed gardener.Armed with a stick he went on a vicious killing spree.Jaggiah became the henchman of my father . Whenever a snake was sighted which was often,Jaggiah was requisitioned . He jumped to the fray with great gusto ,poking into bushes , pulling the snakes by their tails and then beating the life out of them . He looked very satisfied at his handiwork as he squatted near his trophy whilst other gardeners burnt it, reverently.

Not once did he lay claim to the prize money .He very politely but firmly turned it down when my father offered the sum,saying that he owed this carnage[revenge] to the memory of his newly married wife who died within a few months of marriage , horribly frothing in the mouth and writhing in pain after being bitten by a cobra.

The snakes met their nemesis in the skillful and revengeful hands of Jaggiah. The employees of C.F.T.R.I and the staff living in the colony breathed a sigh of relief!

Painful trends.

There was an article in a widely read newspaper few days back that scandalised me .

The writer was wondering whether Chatrapathi Sivaji visited a temple in old Madras in 1670's .Then he expressed his thankfulness and relief at that great man ,not crossing swords with the British ,who were slowly consolidating their power in and around Fort St George., as otherwise we in Chennai would have been engulfed in 'Marathi Manoo's'.

Does that writer know history or is he venting his spite on current politicians,by dragging down a hero of Medieval India ,who had the courage and will to stand up against the might of Mughal empire ,that had become increasingly intolerant of its subjects under Aurangzeb?

And how can the British not being dislodged by that mighty Maratha be a reprieve to the inhabitants of Madras?Is he condoning the British occupation of India?

Icons of history are increasingly becoming pawns in political mud slinging matches . A painful trend.

The Sania soap !

My heart sank when the news broke out that SaniaMirza ,the Indian tennis beauty queen had broken her engagement with the nice boy next door chosen by her parents, to marry a Pakistani cricketer!

I have seen Sania so often on TV that she is virtually like the girl next door and I sat transfixed at front of the TV when the news channels telecast live ,the emotional outpourings of the parents of the first wife of that cricketer.

I shed tears along with the eloquent mother of the betrayed girl from Hyderabad and sided with her father when he heaped curses on ShoaibMalik [I wasn't aware of his existence till that day] and his brother-in-law ,that they should be afflicted and suffer from cancer .I totally agreed with the woman panelist[Muslim] when she cautioned Sania to think twice before tying the knot with that knave from across the border.I also wondered as the Sena chief did,how could she represent India after marrying a Pakistani?

I went to bed that night ruing the fate of a bubbly Indian sportswoman to be snuffed and pardhad by an alien . I also spent some time match making ,with those dashing Pathans and other handsome members of the Indian cricketing squad and my eyes misted over when I imagined blessing such a union from my armchair!

The saga continued the next day ,with the spicy news that the villain of the piece --Shoaib Mallik had landed in Hyderabad.

I was totally immersed in this live drama ,more stirring than any film or the Discovery series onTV,'My shocking story' I had seen recently when I was unceremoniously divested of the remote by ,other[male] members and friends who stormed in to see cricket in the sports channel They had seen it live in the Chepauk stadium through noon and evening ,yet were not satiated . The deeply engrossing emotional drama was replaced by staid cricketers chasing the ball.

Deprived of the thrilling twists and turns in the triangle unfolding in Hyderabad my ire has turned on cricket.There are tests, odi's, and head whirling 20- 20 matches.How do Indian gents keep track of so many matches and watch each match with equal if not even more relish ,interest and enthusiasm?Doesn't the maxim 'Too much is too bad ' ever apply to cricket ?

My protests at this short shrift given to the melodrama being played in the news channels were brushed aside with some terse observations'' Sania Mirza is a spent force . Even in her heydays she was never a great player. She is no patch on the less telegenic but much more talented Saina Nehewal a world class Badminton player. Don't expend your emotion and time''. Thus the Sania soap was summarily silenced!

Is this media hype 'A much ado about nothing'?

India's never ending journey .

I borrowed this book hoping to get a insight into present India ,from a self professed Indianized ,Englishman Mark Tully.

This book is as confusing as his arguments are , in TV debates.

It is filled with pages upon pages of names of men and women ,mostly English,Scottish and Irish he has come across in his life journey,than about his observations regarding India's never ending journey!

There are however few nuggets of wisdom hidden in this maze of name droppings ,that can be grasped only by a penible scanning ,preferably with the help of a magnifying glass.

Hobbled hobbies.

As a teenager I loved cycling . I immensely enjoyed the contact with the wind that blew my hair and pushed me backwards . One day whilst testing my cycling skills in the highways I saw several middle aged men pedaling pedantically in a steady file . They were driving purposefully towards their work place.The thrill that cycling gave me was for them a means to take them to their work place . The thrill had gone out of their lives .

I enjoy embroidering hankies,tablecloths, TV covers etc.I visited Kashmir in my honeymoon[just before the terrorists made the place out of bounds] . There I was taken by a persistent salesman to dingy place in a shikara ,paddling in narrow waterways ,to show us and sell us shawls and carpets.There I saw several men sitting hunched over shawls and carpets that they were embroidering mechanically.They didn't even lift their eyes to see us !They were embroidering beautiful designs,but to them it was all in a day's work .

I liked preparing sweets and savouries , whenever I become tired of mugging all those dry sections of bare acts and going through endless cyclostyled case laws whilst studying law.I enjoyed my short sojourns into the kitchen ,the undisputed empire of my mother who indulgently gave way .After marriage and running my own household , I often remembered my mother at her tireless cooking every day because I was similarly placed preparing the same fare --rice,sambhar,rasam ,kai ....,day after day.Now when festivals make their appearance as they do intermittently, the sweets and snacks I once enjoyed preparing ,have become an additional burden.