Notes to myself

There’s a print of Gustav Klimt’s “Kiss” on opposite me and that of “Death” on my board. There’s something vaguely disurbing about this juxtaposition- I just can’t put my finger on it.

I have become a complete homebody. Last week, I was thrilled to find coconut milk in the nighbourhood Carrefour. Needless to say, the food this week has been delightful! (yum!) There’s something magical about combining various pastes and powders into home food. It takes me back to Kerala like nothing else can.

Happily ever afters take so much effort!

I have been dissecting people’s words till they have given up their ghosts. It alarms me how cynical every one around me is. It alarms me even more that I perfectly understand the reasons for it.

I lost my prized Tissot two weeks ago. Can someone please replace it for me? (Pretty please? With a cherry on top?)

In related news, I have been checking out watches online of late and am now officially annoyed that they are all so expensive!

Am I hopelessly complex?

On the subject of wines (now that you brought it up), I think the Napa Valley whites (try the Chardonnays) are unparalleled. My taste buds think so.

While on wines, I introduced a friend to the wonderful world of Velasquez (Las Meninas, Del Prado), Caravaggio (The Death of the Virgin, The Louvre) and Bernini (The Rape of Prospherne, Apollo & Daphne, Galleria Borghese). Hah, I think a nice dose of Van Gogh ought to kill him now, huh?

Still on the subject of culture, finally visited the MIM in Brussels (Museum of Musical instruments). It’s set in an Art Nouveau house by Horta, but the exhibits stole the limelight even from…uhm… the wrought iron grilles. I especially loved the group of 5 year old kids who were being taught the rudiments of music by a patient employee. The children were lining up for a turn ( at attempting to play) on a simple flute. The exuberance when a little boy was finally able to coax a note out was to be seen to be believed.

I specially wanted to pull the cheeks of the little boy with cat whiskers drawn on face. Unbelievably cute!

I envy Europe for being able to teach children at very young ages about art and music. It set me thinking about the fact that I have never visited the Sree Chitra Art Gallery back home and my only acquaintance with Ravi Varma’s art is through really badly executed prints. I wish there was a sustained effort by us to teach children about culture and history by actually showing them what it is like. I know more about Indian art & history from reading that observing back home and that’s not what it ought to be. Of course, any South Indian worth their salt dabbles a bit in Carnatic music and dance (I danced for a year till I got bored!), but I believe it should made systemic.

Parallel parking on the left side of the road is oh-so-much-easier.

The Germans have a word for snow that turns to water on the ground. I do too: I call it a damned waste of good snow.

Why do weekends whizz by so quickly?

My new talent is being able to spot really good chick-lit. I specially recommend Acting Up and The Heretic Queen.

Plans have been made to see the Italian GP in Monza with the cousin. The grandstand tickets have been bought. The boy is understandably thrilled and I am feeling indulgent. I must be getting old!

The nephew persists on pointing at one particular picture of mine when asked “where is mamma?” I think the sister needs to explain the difference in slow words to him.

The nephew is an adorable little ball of mischief- complete with curly hair and button eyes. Sigh. They grow up so fast.

I ramble a lot. As you can see. What-to-do, you must humour an old lady.


4 thoughts on “Notes to myself

  1. hahaha..i love this post…perfectly breaking all rules!!;-D

    “any South Indian worth their salt dabbles a bit in Carnatic music and dance ” i wobjet your honour!! 😦
    you cant say am not worth a teaspoon of TATA salt!!

    talkin of recommends..chataneau pape..and the cabaranet savignon from South Africa..;-P

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