Z---Zooming in

     
                                     


         Zooming in at this nook
where soft drizzle of words pooled in
         this is my Zen moment

                                                   

                                                        

                                                                           
                                                                     
The above attempted lines are dedicated to our own nook ..our nukkad or adda where jab bhi we met, it rained words.. This is my Zen moment as I successfully complete the challenge with your support and appreciation. Thank you all for dropping by,reading me and supporting me :)




                                                                           

       
     
                                                         

Y---Yeralti Sehri

Yeralti Sehri is an amazing underground city in Derinkuyu province ,Cappadocia ,Turkey. The inhabitants of the region took shelter in this city from the raids of Arab armies. In Byzantine times it contained a full complex of food stores,kitchen,stables,schools,churches ,wells, wine and oil presses and much more. The underground city had a total of 13 level subdivisions spread over eight main levels. The total depth is 85meters under the ground with many shafts opening at the ground level.It had the capacity of accommodating around 20,000 people at a time.
The city aptly translated as 'dark well' ,is the largest known example of troglodyte living in Cappadocia. Eight of the levels are open to public ,with the lowest level at the depth of 54m ( 177ft).

                                    Planning of the underground city...
                     
                       
Vents doubled up as entrances as well as ventilators for the city. There are numerous vents that open up to the ground above .
                                       This is how the vents look like ...
                                             
                               

                       Various tunnels open up into numerous interconnected chambers.

We were told that this was the school in the olden times ,where scholars  conducted their classes .

The young tour guide played a prank on us.. He dared us to enter the small narrow tunnel (in pic below),and warned us that it was extremely dark and claustrophobic inside.Unable to resist the dare, I entered through one of the openings and within seconds came out of the other  :D

 This tunnel felt like it would never end. Thankfully, it was one of those few which had lights to guide us. One constant thought that stayed with me was that if I were a few more inches than my present frame,I would probably have stayed on top and not have ventured below. It was thrilling to go deeper and deeper down,exploring the underground levels but by the time we reached about 54m it was scary .It was amazing that we did not experience lack of oxygen even at the lowest permissible floor.Various vents maintained ventilation at the levels. I have to admit that the climb while on our way back ,required will power..a lot of it !

   
                   

Those rare moments when I am glad that I am vertically challenged !! The tunnels were much less than five feet in height and even I had to bend ! This gentleman had to double up..
                                             

 There was light at the end of this tunnel ....

Saddened to see that miscreants and love birds did not think twice before damaging this heritage !
                                             
                                       

W--Witch,Wicked Woman

Ever since I saw the film Ek Thi daayan, I have been thinking a lot about witches .Loosely used ,The word witch would mean a wicked woman or so I thought until I read that all witches are not wicked and all wicked women are not witches. Now since this fact is almost sorted,I feel a little relieved because I have been hiding a wicked woman inside me for a long time. Under normal circumstances,this lady is in a  comatose state sleeping in the deepest strata of my subconscious. Very rarely though,some mortals succeed in shaking her up from her deep slumber.One of the many occasions ...

 I was waiting for the lift with my sister in law .The lift was coming up and we saw a man inside who in turn ,saw us waiting .He went up while we girls got busy chatting.We could hear the lift singing the irritating tune "Kripaya darwaza bund karein....kripaya daar bunda karaa...please close the door " in the loop.We could also hear a man laughing and chatting with someone on the top floor,obviously keeping the lift door open. Good  eight minutes later ( we did count !!) the lift came down , but the guy had his back towards us.Ready- to- punch- his- face- but- controlling- our- anger ,-that was our state. Can you believe that he did not stop at our floor ? Now THIS was an insult !We pressed and held on to the lift button with our dear lives....

Within minutes,the lift brought him up to our floor.

He- ???

We-????????

We entered the lift, I excused myself , made an exit, kept the lift door open, gave a shout out to someone imaginary on the floor, asked myself  aloud  if I had forgotten something ,checked the door of my house by hanging on to it and then re entered the lift.

He-!!!

We-!!!!!!!!

By the way we both were in perfect sync ,there was no scripting required and it was all impromptu.

Wicked ? Oh yeah !

It is beyond the scope of this post to illustrate all the wicked / witch moments experienced in this lifetime so I would like to throw this question to you instead. If you have no answers to  this question,you belong to the Himalayas.

What /who brings out the wicked person  in you ? 

V--Vegetarians and Vegans

Read on Twitter -
Q-How do you recognise a vegetarian / vegan at a party?
A-Wait for five minutes,he will come and tell you on his own.

Scene-1

A man seated for dinner in a restaurant, opens his bag, retrieves two big packs of ready to eat meals,calls the waiter and spends the next ten minutes instructing him on how to assemble it. A confused waiter flips the pack and reads the simple instructions,nods and walks towards the kitchen. Five minutes later,the guest starts fiddling with the cutlery,drops a couple of them, makes some more noises with the crockery and casts furtive glances in the direction of  the kitchen. Finally ,unable to contain his restlessness,he walks towards the kitchen,opens the door and enters it. Seconds later,he is ushered out by the polite waiter. He stares at the door ,paces a few times and then stands on his toes to peep through the looking glass inside. While looking,his expressions change, he moves his head side to side and his palm meets his forehead. He looked as if he was doomed .He walked like a defeated man towards his table and sat down with slumped shoulders. The waiter served his food in a while and the man spoke to him for some time telling him how exactly the food was to be served. I saw him eat his two bowls of Rajma-Chawal  in silence .He then walked towards the dessert counter at the pre arranged buffet of the restaurant .He prodded each dish with a fork,disgust writ large on his expressions. He made faces at the texture of the dishes and finally picked a few fruits before walking out.

He was later seen taking a brisk walk by the poolside, talking loudly on his phone. He spoke about how the waiter used microwave oven to heat his Rajma rather than boiling it in a pan.The dish was too hot for his liking. How rice was not soft and was giving him gases and that is why he was out by the poolside, walking. He was digging his gums  with a tooth pick ,which  was expected to do the work of a shovel. 

Did I imagine, earlier at dinner  or did the same waiter's gaze linger a wee bit longer at me when he realised that I was a vegetarian too. My plate was full with delicious local food ,chosen by me from the variety of food on display.

Scene 2

There was a little agitation in the lobby of the hotel with a large group of travellers arguing with the tour operator about jalebi not being served the night before for dinner. The eggless pastries were not relished by the group and the Gulab Jamuns were too dry for their liking. Someone remarked that the whole excursion was a flop because of the missing Jalebis.
Scene 3
In a wine and food appreciation meet for bloggers,I was  seated next to a lady who proudly stated that she was a vegan. Well nothing unusual about that but the way she manipulated the servings , sent the organisers on guilt trips ,had to be seen to be believed.The harassed team had a tough time  keeping up with her  demands and the fellow bloggers could not understand her contempt for their food choices.

Decades ago,on my first overseas trip,I survived on bread and fries from McDonalds .After having salads and fries for three weeks, the sight and smell of McDonalds was enough to put me off food. Those days, there was no internet ,no awareness and limited resources to indulge in the luxury of vegetarianism in a foreign land . I hated the idea of carrying theplas ( spiced flat bread) but I did,for emergencies ,while continuing my search of vegetarian food locally. With the internet, things are much easier now for vegetarians.One can research local vegetarian fare and locate diners serving veg food in the vicinity of their stay and even order Indian food in the comfort of the hotel room. I have done all. I however prefer to experiment with local veg fare as far as possible.

Staying in apartment suits also helps the cause if one doesn't mind cooking on a vacation. I do take those.apartments once in a while but prefer not to cook as far as possible. 

  So ,how particular are you about your food choices when you are away from home .Is food so important that if you do not have it your way,there  can not be any other way ?

A sneak peak into what I ate...on my recent trip...
The biggest tray and vegetarian spread on the right (egg was passed on to the family) with apple tea for breakfast.

Something to start with...before the lunch gets ready...

 Mushrooms and choice of veggies served with sticky rice and potato on the side.

   

U---- Unaccustomed girl in Unfazed Mumbai

 All of 24 years and fresh out of college,I was already working as a lecturer for my parent institution in my city .The transition was overnight and I had to remind myself time and again that I was on the other side of the table. I got married.. and very soon it was time to shift to Mumbai. I was quite uptight with the thought of the impending shift. Thoughts of  lifestyle changes that may be necessary while setting up house and work in Mumbai often crossed my mind.On one such occasion ,I expressed my doubts aloud and my teacher remarked-"You still look like a student , when you go to Mumbai as a lecturer, remember to don a mature  look and behave like a teacher."

This stayed with me and I packed a lot of saris to wear to work.

 I dressed carefully for my first day at work in Mumbai. A  blue sari in crepe chiffon ,teamed with delicate high heeled footwear.A functional bag, long hair tied neatly,I set out confidently for work.Hobbs had explained two ways of travel from Vile Parle to Victoria Terminus (now CST), -direct bus or local train with one  change of trains at Dadar. I have always been adventurous, so I took the bus while going and reached the hospital in 45min flat. Hah ! This is a breeze ,I thought !In the evening ,I decided to take the local train home.A student ,newly introduced to me,gave up her regular space for me to sit till Dadar. All was well till we reached Dadar. Then all hell broke loose. Ladies,like a swarm of bees  crossed their paths on the platform.Their was buzz all around.I could see only heads all around.A confused me,looked around for that familiar face in the crowd.There was none. I looked around at the indicators and reached the  platform to catch the next train to Vile Parle.

I patiently waited a little distance away from the lady in front of me when I heard someone ask me equally impatiently,"Jaane ka hai ?" ( Do you want to go ?). I nodded a weak yes."Naya hai ?"( Are you new to this city?)-she asked. She knew that I was,I need not have answered that one.This gave her the right to make sure I was on the train.No,she did not gently hold my hand to guide me,she just pushed me hard from behind so she could enter the train. I took 5 seconds to look for an empty seat ,so at the end of it,there was none left ! I tried to hold on to the ground for the next 40 minutes while I got pushed,pulled,pressed and squeezed by women of all sizes.There was absolutely,remotely nothing sexual about it.
According to my calculations,Vile Parle was fast approaching and I was not sure on which side of the compartment would the platform be.I asked someone.The lady in question looked horrified as if I had staked   claim on her property.She pointed in the opposite direction as her expressions changed from horror to pity.She then called out to a fisher woman who was returning home after her day's sales. " Parla la utrao tila, naveen ahe wattae." ( she is new,help her get down at Parle station ) The well endowed lady was quick ,she grasped my shoulders and pushed ,yelling on top of her voice," Bajoo...bajoo...baasi machchhi hai "(calling out to people to move away as she had stale fish in her bag).I felt a liquid trickle down the nape of my neck while cold ,clammy ,scruffy from use, hands of the lady pushed me out of the compartment. I was stinking  but relieved to be in one piece and on the platform staggering on my feet. The lady slapped her palm on her forehead " Deva..wachav  .. kai bi khara nhai ya porincha " ( God save these new age girls ) and took her position on the door of the same compartment as the train moved.
I gathered my wits,my bag, and realised to my horror that my sari lay unfurled on the ground. I clutched my bosom ,thankfully,my pallu was  pinned up in place still covering my 'izzat'.I gathered the pleats only to realise that I had only one shoe with broken heel on my foot. I saw the other one slip disappear beneath the moving train. I kicked the other one too off my foot .
While the world zipped by,unfazed and uncaring, my own confidence was shattered to bits.
The humiliation I felt is indescribable in words.
In that unsettled state,I left the station .
It was on that platform on that day of August that I pledged to give away all my saris .My mom and mother in law were the beneficiaries.
Today,this once unaccustomed girl  has an undying love for this city of Mumbai. Under the over bridge of fast life in a fast lane there is a soft belly .This city of my dreams is home and home is where the heart is!

T-----Tongue Fu

 

A difficult, rude man boarded a completely full flight .He began complaining loudly about anything and everything in sight. His bag not fitting the overhead bin ,he being sandwiched into the middle seat of the middle row, the delay in serving lunch and the lunch being a mere sandwich etc..He then proceeded to take a bite of his sandwich and dropped it back in the tray and angrily pushed the call button.

The flight attendant appeared promptly and asked him very politely, “Yes, how may I help you ?“  

He shoved the sandwich towards her and growled,” This sandwich is bad!”

The girl looked from him to his sandwich. She then looked back at him and stared at his sandwich long and hard. She focussed on him and then shook her finger at the sandwich and scolded, “Bad sandwich, you.. BAD sandwich!!”

The man was taken aback, a stunned silence followed and then everybody around burst out laughing, including the man.

Someone asked the girl later, how she came up with the idea. She explained that in her profession, she was required to handle such difficult people almost every day. Humour was a perfect antidote for the poison of rudeness, she said. Humour   was her mantra for people management at work and beyond.

The above excerpt is from an interesting book called Tongue Fu by Sam Horn.

Tongue Fu is the verbal equivalent of Kung Fu ( a martial art form ) .To deflect, disarm and diffuse any verbal conflict ,the art of Tongue Fu can be used.

Sam Horn has described various real life situations with rude or difficult people from all walks of life and how to tackle such people. The book is laced with humour in the form of  funny anecdotes and that makes it a delightful read .

Anyone who feels tongue tied in the face of a conflict, can use tongue Fu to create connection instead of alienation. Many pearls of wisdom in this book come from eminent personalities but I loved the real life anecdotes the most.

I picked this book ,only because the title intrigued me.I had not heard of the author before and  I am glad the book did not disappoint me.It is an easy read and I finished reading it in two days.

  

  

S----Sky is the limit !

Sky is the limit ! I believe so and the following photographs will prove this! These were clicked  at Goreme,Cappadocia ,Turkey

We prepare for a Hot Air Balloon ride at the crack of dawn. First splash of colour in the sky at 5.30am 

  We prepare for our date with the sky. The basket of the hot air balloon is our borrowed space for the next couple of hours .Our captain instructs us and prepares for the flight. There was enough fire in him and his balloon to launch us in the sky.

The flight takes off and very soon, the sky decides to show us its true colours ! 

Meanwhile, a bright balloon passed by...

               
                  Several balloons in various stages of take off...all eager to meet the sky.

 The Sky in various shades of blue dotted with balloons.

               
   Clouds wanted to meet us so they decided to fly close.

"The earth is feeling jealous mister"....say the tall ,stately ,natural rock formations, reaching out to the sky. 

 
 View from the sky is overwhelming and we remember a certain Mr Google while looking at the landscape :)                    

 "I think better start believing in  'sky is the limit ' thingy....makes sense now.View from the top is so much better. Parents can be right sometimes !"

                                                               

Q---Quake

In the quiet of a dark night,they huddled together in a dark corner of what once was their home.The only hope they could latch on to was that of a quick detachment of their bodies from their souls. Trembling limbs tightly clasped in a vice like grip,they could hear the other's palpitating heart. Agitated by the tremors ,the ground caved in .Engulfed by the quaking earth,their lips quivered ,too weak to speak but in silent prayer..

                                               

P--Pamukkale

Pamukkale , meaning 'cotton castle' ( pamuk--cotton + kale --castle ) in Turkish, is a natural site in Denzili Province in south Western Turkey. The city contains hot springs and travertines, terraces of carbonate minerals left behind by flowing water.The site is UNESCO protected .

Small streams of mineral rich water are guided through terraces in the area. The 'snow-clad 'mountains are actually covered with mineral deposits.

The water ,rich in minerals comes straight from several hot springs and gets collected into the terraces along the slopes .

                                            The view is breath taking .......

The mineral rich water has medicinal value and it is beneficial for the skin and is known to be helpful in many other conditions.

 Shoes are strictly forbidden .My kids saw the steep slope and the bare foot walk ahead  in the hot Sun and you can imagine the looks I must have invited from all quarters.Hobbs was ready to turn back as the ground was slippery beneath his feet ;) None of them had the heart to go back though and we all decided to take the difficult route downhill.

 The water was warm to touch and as we continued the one and a half hour walk along the slope, our feet intermittently encountered  small pools of ice cold water. The alternating warm and cold water tingled our senses and the feeling was that of pure bliss ! The walk was turning out to be the most memorable one ...

 The slope was steep and required a lot of balance on the feet as the ground was  slippery. No one complained though.Daughter touched and felt all along the trail...the stones,the clay,the deposits and splashed water like a small child .

Hobbs and son bonded through the trail and I heard my son ask his dad -" Can we make a house here ? Will the Turkish Government allow us to stay back? How expensive do you think will be  property in this area? "

They had loved the place ,obviously even more than I did. I smiled beneath my hat .

O- Oija Board

             
The occult has fascinated people from time immemorial .As teens ,we came across many stories and anecdotes relating to the occult. Most commonly talked about subject was the Oija board which was used to perform Planchett ( not sure how it is spelt ).

                                                     

One afternoon,unable to contain our curiosity we decided to call the spirit of a friend's grandfather. A hand made Oija board as shown in the picture was drawn on a big sheet of chart paper and stuck on a piece of hardboard.We did not want an unstable board . Five of us selected a friend's empty house and assembled the required paraphernalia. A coin, paper ,pens and some water to drink, just in case...

The expert amongst us was given the charge of inviting the respected spirit on earth. He made a straight face,warned us not to laugh and be serious throughout the procedure.Questions were rehearsed. I was tense ,not of the spirit but because I was the only non-believer in the room. The expert closed his eyes and we followed the leader.We all touched the coin in the centre of the board with the tip of our index fingers.After about 10 torturous minutes, the expert felt a movement in the coin.He thanked the spirit,after greeting him and asked the first question.We were told beforehand that the answers were going to be brief ,in letters or numbers mostly. The coin started moving towards 'yes' when we asked if the spirit was happy in the other world. The coin moved towards 'no' when we asked if the spirit missed its family. The grandson felt sad and opened his eyes wide and tried to 'spot' the spirit in the room.He was reprimanded promptly by others .

                                              

A born sceptic that I am ,I felt that the coin was being led by our expert in the desired direction so taking advantage of the other four fingers,I increased my finger pressure on the coin and the resistance to the movement of the coin increased .My friend explained the phenomena as displeasure being shown by the spirit and the great adventure met with a premature end.

After a hushed session lasting for a few minutes ,I admitted that it was my doing .The expert said I made a grave mistake by attempting to interrupt the session and that I will be liable to punishment of the worst kind.
Kid that I was ,I did get scared for a couple of hours.The details were poured out in front of my dad who is a scientist and all doubts were cleared at the dinner table.The friend still believes in the power of Oija and I still do not.

There is a rational explanation to the movement of  coin as I found out much later in life through the internet. The movement occurs due to the ideomotor effect and not due to the spirit. If the operator is blindfolded,only gibberish appears for an answer.
I like logic, I feel secure if there is logic behind any such alternative science.
 So have you tried Oija board ?Share please .


                                                                         
images courtesy Google images.

M----MIND

Mind, like a mirror transparent,reflects all
Mind projects the inner world in its true colours.                            
Mind can not be white for it can not hide,
Mind is a window with direct access inside.

Keep it clogged or drain it ,
Keep it simple, or complicate it
Up to you ,how you treat it.
Welcome the thoughts....
to rest a while and let  go.....
De clutter you must to make space for new 
Do not close your mind, expand it ....
Say.....

                                                                           

This post is for April A to Z challenge

           

L--- LIE

Lie is untruth
Lie is false but not imaginary....it exists.
Lie is empty, it yearns for confirmation.
Lie is needy, it needs reassurance.
Lie is fearful ..of enquiry.
Lie seeks support ...to exist.
Lie is difficult...a source of trouble.
A heap of lies can be burnt down by a tiny spark of truth .