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Showing posts from May, 2011

We are the same

This month brings to my mind the games we used to play as kids during summer holidays. I was telling P about it yesterday. My favourtie game was 'Choppu' and I had quite a big collection of toy vessels, stoves, cylinders, grinders, mixies etc. I used to pester my parents to buy the choppu utensils for me. The game by itself was not much, but we could spend hours playing it. We used to cook, dress our dolls, go to work come back and cook again.

The best part was we used to fight about who was to cook. The person who had to go office had nothing much to do but carry her lunch box, go to a corner stand and eat it and get back home after pretending to work. But the person who cooked had the best part.

Of course now cooking is not something I fight over. It is the other way around :p It was so much more fun to cook with toys than real vessels.

P's games sound so much different than mine. All his games involved running around grounds, jumping over things etc.. He never as a rule, …
Now, how difficult is it to Not say 'sorry'. I almost practise not saying it but end up apologising for things I shouldnt be! I hate myself for this.
London is on high alert for terrorist attacks according to the newspapers. This is supposed to be a perennial status, from what I understand. But the killing of Osama seems to have put the London Police into crazy frenzy. They have requested the public to be vigilant and trust their instincts when it comes to observing something or someone who appears suspicious. For a person from a relatively safe place like Chennai, this is scary. I imagine walking through the Liverpool Street station and bursting into flames. When I see a police van screeching through the streets, my heart beats beyond recommended limits. When I see a lonely man sporting a long beard and whispering into a phone, I think of picking up my phone to dial 999. I remember this friend telling me about how once while travelling in the tube he noticed a Muslim reciting prayers with passion rocking forward and backward and my friend almost typed a goodbye msg to his wife.

At school we read this story about a man called Baba …