Anuradha Sridharan

  I had checked off one of the items from my bucket list in Aug. Such an important thing, yet it has taken me nearly 2 months to record my experience here on my blog. Better late than never!! Long time readers of my blog might know how madly I'm in love with AR Rahman's music. His music came into my ears on the most tragic day of my life. Till date, I'm not able to listen to Kaadhal Rojave without a tear lingering in the corner of my eyes. Apart from that one sad emotion, his music has brought in so much happiness and memories to cherish, right from childhood. Every album of his has a memory, a feeling that takes you back to the simpler times of 90s. When I started earning (back in 2002), one of my dreams was to experience a live ARR concert. Now seriously I don't know why it took me 17 years to make my dream come true. I accidentally stumbled upon the details of his concert to be held in Chennai on Aug 10th. Though my daughter loves music, she doesn't...

I remember vividly the packaging, the aroma and the taste of my grandma's tomato rice, which I used to devour in the train while returning from school. The memories - so nostalgic and so dear to me. Blessed with 2 loving and caring grandmothers who cook awesome food, I'm grateful and at the same time, I deeply regret that I didn't take interest in cooking when these 2 active and special women were alive. I guess I was more than happy in relishing the delicacies prepared by them, that I wasn't too curious to know the background work involved. Now coming to the story, I used to travel by local metro train to go to school everyday. Due to certain circumstances, we had to shift home to a distant suburb. But I insisted I would stay put in the same school for my 8th grade, even if it requires me to travel 1 hour (one-way) everyday. Who can say NO to train journeys, right? :-) My paternal grandmother was living with us and she would pack me a proper lunch box every mornin...

He never had tea or coffee before we met. I have always been a big fan of my dad's filter coffee. Then something changed. I don't remember how and when exactly. Maybe, It was the Bangalore weather, it was the freshly brewed milk tea at the office pantry or it was the time we spent together, talking for hours and discovering each other in our office cafeteria. 12 years later, our mornings are never complete without a cup of chai. Life has changed, a lot….But this is one ritual I love to follow every morning, wherever it is. There were days when we weren't buying a pack of milk everyday but still the tea would be prepared with milk powder. It didn't taste good but the beginning of the day with your loved one over a hot cuppa makes you feel alive. Then I discovered the art of tea making - a simple masala chai with milk. This has always been our favorite drink every morning for many years. We used to sit on the bed, spread the newspaper and sip tea slowly, chatting about s...

I just returned after enquiring about a summer camp for my 2.5 year old daughter. The summer camp is in the morning hours. A teacher in the school mentioned that she offers a different summer camp in the afternoon from her home too and I can enroll my daughter if interested. I decided that a couple of hours in the morning is more than enough to keep her engaged at this age. While pondering about these various summer camps, memories of my childhood summers started to appear before my eyes. There wasn't any concept of "summer camps" back then. The 2 months were filled with soaking in the sunshine, sweating and running around with neighbors, cousins and friends. Sneaking out of the house to get a stick of flavored ice bar ("kuchi" ice) in a nearby ice factory in the afternoon when the elders were taking their afternoon nap. Climbing the terrace to pluck juicy guavas from the trees Sipping cool and refreshing lemon juice made from water stored in a mud pot Learni...

My contribution to Sunday Scribblings It was the first day of my second year in Engineering. Having accepted the fact that my dreams of pursuing medicine as my career option is impossible, I decided to approach Computer Science Engineering with rigor. But the first day turned out to be a nightmare. I heard my classmates pursuing programming courses during the summer holidays. Many of them already had a computer at home. They had familiarized themselves with Fortran programming (Yes, we studied Fortran in our 3rd semester). I came home, feeling utterly depressed. Having been the class topper throughout school, there was this sinking feeling that I was way behind everyone in college.  I came home after a depressing first day. I clearly remember she was in the terrace that evening, preparing for some exam related to her promotion in insurance sector. She noticed the dullness in my face and called out to me. She had been the pillar of support during my school days, always enco...

Dear Grandpa, Your memories struck me all of a sudden in my dream during a quiet, afternoon siesta today. I woke up with your image clearly lingering in my eyes. It took me back to some of the best moments of my childhood during my days with you and Grandma. As a playful kid, your strict disciplinarian rules made me hate you a lot. Now looking back, those days are funny; days when you chased me and my brother while we were climbing the guava trees, when we used to jump on the fresh sand you had bought for some construction work and so on. Although everyone else seemed to have ignored you or your words, for a change I was intrigued by you. How did you manage to be so disciplined even when you were in your 70s, grandpa? I do sometimes struggle at this aspect at my young age, thanks to my laziness. I still remember those days when you never used to miss hearing the 6 o'clock morning news from your radio. Being self sufficient is something I had learnt from you. Managing your own...

We have always been talking about generation gap for many generations. While I was thinking about different habits in my family, I couldn't help but notice that there is a strong gadget gap as well. Flashback to the late 80s! My father bought home a big Prestige pressure cooker. As a child, I was so excited about the sound of the whistle, while keeping track of the count. The cooker sat proudly on top of the gas stove as a king of the kitchen while the rest of the cooking utensils looked humble like its royal subjects. But this treatment lasted for just a few days as my grandma was completely uncomfortable with this giant new entrant in the kitchen. Although she was scared to use this gadget, she gave excuses like "Oh, the rice doesn't seem to quick properly in this cooker" or "the rice is very dry and doesn't taste good". After the few days, the cooker was safely kept in the topmost kitchen shelf. We were back to our good old ways of using the tradition...

After reading Skely 's post, I felt I should note down this day in my dear blog. I'm glad that we won against Aussies with all the might and strength. A convincing victory it was! But I want to write this post for a different reason. One of the three veterans has signed off today from test cricket; yes, I'm referring to Dada a.k.a Sourav Ganguly. I have been following his cricket career completely ever since the England tour in 1996 where he made his test debut. His back-to-back test centuries, many successful opening partnerships with my idol Sachin in ODIs, the way he smashed the Pakistani bowlers in Sahara Cup at Toronto, his aggressive captaincy inspiring many youngsters like Yuvraj and Kaif and most importantly, his classy off drives and cover drives making him "next-to-God in offside batting" - He used to be my second most favorite Indian cricketer (Do I need to say who the first one is!). The time will come when the other two will also face the same day. I ...

My contribution to 3WW Dark and eerie, 60 minutes to midnight elders snoozing after a long tiring day remote buttons stressed quick hops through TV channels wide awake siblings the apartment 's active souls a sudden pause of the thumb the title of the movie allures so begin s a scary horror flick the background score threatens hands go numb , heart pounds maximum, midnight draws close, characters come alive fearful to watch anymore breathing tends to shallow switching off the TV scarier nightmares to follow My brother and I used to watch horror movies in the night when the rest of the family sleeps. I rarely watched the whole movie. Somewhere in the middle, I used to get so scary that I couldn't watch it anymore!

My contribution to Sunday Scribblings #100 - Time machine Eyes red and brimmed with tears Rice balls difficult to swallow Future appeared desolate and grim Near and dear consoled to support efforts to alleviate the grief and pain gripped with deep sorrow devastated with the death of my mom, in the painful moment, I receive a special gift from God soothing and comforting the lyrics and the beats a melody fresh and new to the eardrums of a 11 year old playing from the radio in the rusty old tea shop life moved on fine a 15 year long journey pampered by the love and care of my dad and now my hubby yet the time machine brings back the sadness, reminds me of the trembling pain and the caressing comfort my precious song of a lifetime This precious time machine is a Tamil song "Kaadhal Rojaave" from the movie Roja.

Now and then, I get this sudden urge to buy myself a bicycle and ride on Bangalore roads, claiming that I could save on fuel and also would help me stay fit. My experience with cycling dates back to my college days (not so long ago, mind you!). In school, I was more than happy to be a pillion driver along with my dad or my younger brother. During the long break between school and college (ah! those wonderful days), dad bought me a BSA SLR bicycle and I started to learn. Initially, my brother was helping me till I get the balance. Yeah, you are right! A 17 year old girl was being taught how to ride a bicycle by her 15 year old brother. Once I got the hang of it, it was a dream come true. Every morning, I used to ride my vehicle to the cycle stand, park it and then take my college bus. The route I normally take was pretty straightforward, through residential streets and a road encompassing a huge playground where there is little traffic (little refers to fellow bicyclers). There were spe...

My contribution to Cafe Writing - December project (Option six) I would like to relate the word "tradition" with the different festivals that we celebrate throughout the year. 1) Diwali (festival of lights) is our favorite festival that we look forward to every year. We buy new clothes for everyone in the family, put a small mark using vermilion on the edges and place them in the Pooja (prayer) area, on the eve of Diwali. It's a traditional way to thank God for the new clothes. 2) Another special festival is Saraswathi (Goddess of wisdom) Pooja, the ninth day of Dussehra (a 10 day festival in October). We keep our textbooks, pens, pencils and other tools in the Pooja area and then offer prayers. The textbooks remain in the Pooja area for the whole day. As kids, we loved this tradition because of the fact that we don't have to study the whole day. 3) Bhogi is an interesting occasion in the month of January. During childhood, I used to love celebrating Bhogi with my gr...

In the 20 odd years that I remember, Diwali is one exciting festival that I look forward to every year. I could think of so many memorable experiences that this day has offered me. The most distant memory I could recollect is waking up to the music of Nadaswaram at 3.30 AM on the morning of Diwali. The musicians used to visit every house, played Nadaswaram and Mirudangam for a few minutes and collected some money. The specific rituals would be in the order of taking oil bath before sunrise, wearing new sets of dresses, eating a delicious breakfast with a lot of sweets, firing crackers and visiting relatives' houses. There used to be times when I was so scared of crackers that I would hide inside my house. When I had to go to my nearby grandpa's house, I would run fast with my ears tightly closed. My only interest was the harmless sparklers which my dad used to buy a bunch of boxes, especially for me. My little brother had all the crackers in his control with no competition from...

How would you feel when you go back to the school where you started your primary education, after a span of 17 years? How would you react when you meet the teacher who taught you the alphabets and nursery rhymes and who still teaches in the same school? I got to experience these feelings last Saturday when I visited my primary school. The small place which helped me take big steps in my life! Seeing the little children in non-uniform dress (no uniform dress on Saturday), hearing the same ringing bell that I used to yearn for so I could go back home and play, meeting the same lady who maintains the school premises, speaking to Ruby miss who is my LKG class teacher, seeing my headmaster, the "Big Master" who has become old but the same scary voice - wow, what an experience it was! He was so happy to see me. He spoke with us (My hubby, my cousin and me) for nearly two hours. Unfortunately my headmistress wasn't there in school that day. It would have been nice to meet her af...

It was a sultry summer evening. My classes got over and I was returning home, holding the soft hands of my 70 year old grandma. My school was about 500 metres from my house and my grandma used to pick me up from school everyday. There was no concept of autos or cycle rickshaws in my little village. I was in the 3rd grade and loved the trip back home. My grandma and I used to walk slowly and we stop as soon as we reach my favourite hangout spot "Thaatha kadai" (shop of an old man). I loved the visits to his shop every evening. I never knew his name till this date. All I knew was that he was a very old man with a long white beard, wearing a dirty dhoti. We always call him "Thaatha" (grandfather). His shop was nothing but a small box of space (around 4 * 4 feet), packed with lots of goodies - colourful candies, little animal shaped dolls made out of plastic, cute notebooks and old colouring books. Thaatha used to sit in the centre of his shop, waiting for the school be...

A small house in the far end of the plot, with a nice, little garden in it's front, showcasing flowering plants like jasmine, december, kanakambaram (what's the English word?), huge fruit bearing trees like banana, mango and guava (white and pink varieties) etc. The whole street could smell the fragrance of curry leaves and eucalyptus. No one bought curry leaves from the shops. They plucked it from our little garden. Can you believe that a drumstick plucked from that garden costs 25 paise? (I checked out in Foodworld yesterday - 2 drumsticks cost 5 rupees, Inflation ! I suppose). Our evening tiffin was always served on fresh, green badam leaves. 15 years later, there is no trace of jasmine or december plants. The shoulders of banana trees are drooping. I can see only the trunk of the drumstick tree but no trace of the vegetable. The curry leaves are dried out. The guava and eucalyptus trees are gone. The house is not the same. The garden is no longer there. That's my gran...

Gulab Jamuns, Rasgullas, Soan Papdis, Gajar Ka Halwa - Is your mouth watering reading these delicious desserts? I got this craving for Indian desserts. Craving might be a lighter word, perhaps. I love them and I simply adore these delicacies. Whoever invented these, God bless their souls. From my childhood, I always preferred Indian sweets to any other kind of desserts. Even now, when I had to choose between the two cuisines served during lunch at office, I always choose the one which has a better dessert; And if there is gulab jamun in one of the menus, I don't even take a look at the other menu. I still remember those rasgulla tins my dad used to buy during Diwali. I never eat jamuns or rasgullas in one go , rather I relish them bite by bite, slowly as the piece melts down in my tongue. Hmm....heaven ! Donuts, pies, pastries and puddings can never even come close to what the Indian sweets offer to our taste buds. Even the simplest sweet of all, Payasam (Kheer) - doesn't it ta...

No, this post is not about the elections that had come and gone. As kids, many would have fond memories of chocolates or icecreams. My memories are mostly based on bikis or biscuits. I love them in different shapes and tastes. The taste has evolved as I grew up. I still remember the Farex box where my grandma used to store bommai bikis (biscuits shaped like dolls, fish, duck etc). Every evening, I would open that box and only take shapes that has a head. I derived a lot of pleasure in eating heads :-) My dad would ensure that there are always enough bommai biscuits stocked. Then came the entry of Brittania Milk Bikis. 2 milk bikis + a glass of Boost - a perfect combination to begin a day. Although I never liked Marie Biscuits, I tried it once in a while. My brother and I had a unique style of eating Marie. We first ate the outer circle bite by bite and then went to the inner circle. I would be doing injustice to the world of biscuits if I forget to mention the yummy cream biscuits. Spl...

Many people have the notion that living in an independent house is always better than an apartment. I agree to this as far as investment benefits are concerned, you definitely get more value for money. But living in an apartment with many families is such a wonderful experience. When I watched Anjali in 1991, my brother and I wished how enjoyable living in an apartment would be, playing with so many kids, running around the apartment in the open space, shouting until the old grannies peep out of their window and stare us etc etc. Circumstances forced us to move to an apartment in 1993. 21 unique families were there to provide us fun, frolic and happiness during our childhood. When we moved in, only a few of them had occupied their flats. It was boring initially but once everyone had occupied, we had a blast. Memorable 9 years of my life. We were around 15 (+/- 5 depending on summer vacation) kids, age varying between 5 and 12 years. I was the eldest, sort of a gang leader. I can't ...

Thanks to DD's article on her school life. Reading her article took me to those beautiful school days. Giving nicknames, passing comments, playing "name-place-animal-thing" and "hang-man" sitting on the first bench, fighting with the most hated sir for 2 marks in midterm answer sheets, looking forward to the evening 4 o'clock bell, sharing lunch boxes, visiting friend's home for group study and playing cards, buying new year greeting cards and getting confused as to which friend should get the best among the lot - Unerasable moments from my heart. I enjoyed school life more than my college life. Precious 14 years. We were very partial in giving nicknames to teachers. Only the bad ones would be privileged to get a nickname from us. We had named our science sir as "Alangaaram" because he always combs his hair in class before he starts his lessons. There was one more sir who used to take commerce and my friends used to call him "Saaral...