Luck, by chance. Unplanned dinner date with a celebrity.

I left work at 9PM yesterday feeling very hungry. In my mind, I started going through all the restaurants on the 20km route to my home. And for one reason or the other, I ticked them off the list one-by-one. Reasons being, not enough parking, not in the mood for Pizza, sick of eating chicken etc.

And before I knew it I was just 1-km from home and near the last restaurant on the way. Since no other choices existed, I drive into the parking of the Nelson Sangeetha restaurant on Nelson Manickam road. Walk in and find an empty table. Since this restaurant is one I visit regularly, I am aware of what is available and place my order.

As I wait for the food to come, I look around. At the table next to me, facing me is seated a lady in a nice (actually exquisite) blue silk saree. I can see only her side profile, but I still feel like I have seen this face before. Rack my brains and the only connection that comes to mind is singer Anuradha Sriram.

For those who don't know who she is, here's a snap I googled out.


But why would someone like her come to a normal restaurant, when she can have her pick from any of the 5-star hotels in town ? I assume it is someone who resembles her. But everytime my glance falls on her, it seems more like her. Seated opposite her is a gentleman and they are having an animated discussion about her concert, dates etc.

By the time I am halfway into the masala-dosa, she is done with her coffee and they are moving off. A quick look around confirms my suspicion that it is indeed Anuradha, because everyone from the waiters, to the manager to the customers have their gaze on her as she moves out.

She looks shorter than I thought she looked on TV - maybe because she seems to have put on weight - looked chubbier than on TV. But she does have an exquisite face - gotta give that to her.

BTW, noticed her getting into a Hyundai Elantra. If it is indeed her car, I guess it is high time she changed to a more upmarket car.

When ABS and Airbags lose out to Hanuman.

13-Dec-2010:
Me, Sheena and Aman are driving back to my home from my in-laws place after spending 2 days there. My in-laws had last week taken delivery of their spanking new car - a Suzuki A-Star Automatic and we had gone there to help get my FIL get comfy with the car, since he is not familiar with automatic transmission cars.

En-route, I drop Sheena at the Kayankulam bus-stand from where she would catch a bus to Alappuzha to get to work. After dropping her, I have Aman belted in safely in the front-seat. Given that our Swift has airbags, he should be seated in the rear-seat, since air-bags if deployed can cause harm rather than good to small kids in the front seat. However, it has been tough to persuade him to sit anywhere other than the front passenger seat. Ideally he should be sitting in the rear in a child-seat.

Infact I would prefer both Sheena & Aman sit in the rear passenger seat. I can convince Sheena, but my efforts with Aman have been in vain. Anyway, as me and Aman drive home, I decide to make another effort to convince him. It's a 10-km stretch to our home which is relatively free of traffic and I try to avoid the tone of advice, instead opting for a story-telling format, which I know usually works with Aman.

I tell him how a friend of mine had called me recently and told me the dangers of having small kids sit in the front-seat. Since airbags and the way they work would be tough to explain to a kid, I decide to use an analogy that he would understand. I tell him that in the event of an accident, the front wind-screen would shatter leading to glass-pieces hitting & injuring him (and Momma) if they sit in the front seat. So, this fictional friend of mine had clearly told me to have Aman seated only in the rear-passenger seat to avoid injuries.

There is silence from Aman as he digests this information. As we drive along, I have a faint hope that maybe he now understands the implications and would henceforth agree to sit in the rear. If only things were that simple.

Suddenly he pipes up, "But won't the glass pieces hit you, Daddy, since you are also seated in the front ?"

Logical, right ? I am asking him to be seated in the rear, while I sit in the front exposed to dangerous shrapnel. Unsure how to counter this logic, I tell him that I have no option but to sit in front since I have to drive the car. He is silent again taking in this information.

And then he says, "But we can always call Hanuman and before we have an accident, he will lift our car to a safe place".

To kids growing up with TV serials like "Chotta Bheem" and "Hanuman", there is nothing these mythological heroes cannot do. Why bother about seat-belts, airbags and stuff when you can call out to Hanuman in times of trouble, who will swoop you to safety, as depicted on TV ? :-)

P.S.: During the 10-day long year-end holidays, we plan to do quite some driving around, especially a possible 800km drive to north Kerala and back. Inspite of Hanuman, I hope Aman and Sheena agree to sit in the rear of the car henceforth.

A broken tap and adding up on my Green-Karma

I was giving our Suzuki-Swift a long-deserved wash at my home in Kerala when I hear animated conversation from the neighbouring house. All I can make out is that it is related to water. As I continue washing the car, the voices come closer and stop near the gate of our home. By this time, my Mom has also come out to check what the commotion is all about. It seems someone broke the public tap adjacent to our home, leading to leakage of water.

And the lady who stays diagonally opposite to our house is the one complaining about all the water going waste. She along with our next-door neighbour are the ones who use the tap for their potable water needs - rest of us in the neighborhood have piped water. Ofcourse, passersby also stop occasionally to quench their thirst. And sometimes the temple elephant too, as I mentioned in a previous post.

The next-door neighbour has also joined the conversation and complains about how he reported this to the municipality, but no action has been taken. Nothing new in this anyway. They then decide to fix it themselves. While one of them goes to buy a new plastic tap, the other one goes for a plumber.

I have now washed the car and am drying it with a dry cloth when Neighbour-1 returns with a new tap that he bought from the nearby hardware store. The other neighbour could not get the plumber - he is busy and said he will drop in around evening and that it will cost Rs.100 to fix the tap.

I tell them that I can fix it for free. I get the required tools, some cotton-waste and a bottle of shellac from our tool-shed and get to work. The tough part is removing the broken end of the old tap. Unscrewing it does not work, so I prise it out with a screw-driver and hammer. I then line the threaded end of the tap with strands of cotton-waste, apply shellac over it for a tight seal and screw in the tap. Presto, the leak is gone and we have a working tap. My 15-minutes (and 100 bucks) worth of effort seen below.



The neighbours have saved 50 bucks each in labour, while I got the pleasure of fixing a broken thing, plus the satisfaction of saving scarce water. Now, if only I knew how to lay roads, I would be glad to relay the pothole-filled road in front of our home that got damaged in the recent rains.

T-20 is now T-30. But still worth the money.

I had posted here about the T-20 breakfast offer at Sangeetha restaurant, Velachery. After having achieved what they wanted with this plan (getting customer attention), they have hiked prices. T-20 is now T-30 - the menu remains the same.

I find it worth inspite of the price hike and was there again recently for breakfast. I like the concept of a decent, fairly filling breakfast (including tea/coffee) for 30 bucks. Try it out when you are around Velachery.

P.S.: Sangeetha should be paying me for this free publicity I am getting them.