Latest news with #Amma
Khaleej Times
5 days ago
- Automotive
- Khaleej Times
How a Royal Enfield dream sparked a full-blown family intervention
"Going to Bangalore? Without Amma? For what?" Almost everyone in the room chorused. Almost simultaneously. It was as if I had just returned from Elon Musk's Hawthorne, California, space facility and said, "Hey guys, sorry I need to rush 'cause I have a solo flight to Mars to catch tomorrow morning." Before the "oohs and aahs" precipitated into beads of sweat, someone grabbed the phone and dialled Munich to let my son know I'm making a solo trip to India's tech hub. Dialling +45 is akin to pressing the 999 emergency number to call police in the UAE. I felt like a convict on parole with an electronic tag tied to the ankle, which my son monitors from his Munich control room. "Dad is flying to Bangalore. God knows for what! And that too without Amma. Crazy, isn't it?" It was my daughter. She insisted on seeing my Emirates PNR to see if any fellow passenger booked along with me. They behaved as if I am Pierre Mondy in the 1983 comedy hit The Gift, a farce set in a hotel in Venice. The title refers to a high-priced call girl hired as a parting gift for a retiring bank employee (Pierre Mondy) by his friends, "who hope this will put spice back into his marriage even though he is married to Claudia Cardinale, who does not lack for spice". What an embarrassment when people look at you as if you have just been caught with another woman in the bedroom. Looking as stoic as possible like David Bowie in the opening courtroom scene of the war movie Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence, I delivered the famous Bowie dialogue, "I'm not guilty." "Listen guys, this is not a honeymoon trip. A short one to appear for a driving test and complete some home ownership work. Will be back in four days." "Driving test?" People crooned again. "You already drive a car in India." "This is a bike licence. My learning permit is expiring in a week. I must go; it's a long-cherished dream to own a Royal Enfield, the Goan Classic in the blue-and-red dual tone." "Dad, are you mad? Know your age and body. Driving a bike in India is the most dangerous game in the world, especially in the madding traffic of Bangalore." On the speakerphone, my son sounded aghast and frustrated. "People own a car in India but drive a bike to save on petrol. This is the era of smart living. It makes sense to me." I argued, well aware that it would fly in the face of common sense because I'm still well-healed in Dubai. "There's something fishy. Why aren't you taking your wife this time. Dad, don't tell me tickets are expensive, I will foot her bill," daughter argued persuasively. "And what dream are you talking about? A bike? You have achieved much more, dad. Have a safe retirement soon instead of inviting trouble." I kept quiet. I wanted to argue that the much-cliched phrase, dreams have no expiration date, still holds water. I wanted to tell them life is the continuum of dreams, from point A to point B. The worthiness of your life is dependent on the summation of all the dreams you have achieved — and still want to realise or relive — one last time before the final curtain call. I am not ready — not yet — to join the laughing clubbers making a fool of themselves in community gardens. I don't want to be a potbellied jogger struggling to keep pace with lanky lasses in the park. I don't want to be part of the sickening retirees boasting of their old sexcapades over a cup of "cutting chai" under a bodhi tree. I don't want to listen to the same old stories of valiance from the Kargil warfront. I have no time for temple renovations or rath yatras. "Amma, this is why I said we must have a Nest cam back home." Daughter was in a fighting mood. "To let's be abreast of how you guys will be doing." Camera for what? To spy on my dreams. I slogged a lifetime to raise a family. I watched in despair when life turned into a cemetery of dreams. I did the home burial with my own hands as tears rained down. Now is the time to lift a pickaxe and dig all the graves and breathe life into the carcasses. I don't want anyone to watch what I eat and when and how I sleep. I don't want people to watch when I throw all my sorries and regrets to cats and pigeons. I want to roam naked in my own little space. I want to serenade myself with the sound of silence. I will cook a kitchen full of hash brown and wedges and drink the best of all Rheingau and Bordeaux. I will raise a dozen kids who are free to chase their own dreams. I will let them wake up whenever they want, eat whatever they want, drink whatever they want. I will not chase the school bus when we are late. We'll instead chase the clouds on Nandi Hills. A life finally on my own terms. No more headmasters and principals roaming with sticks. No more deadlines and postmortems. No more emails to sort and messages to reply to. Live life like there's no tomorrow. Looking through the window at the mirage rising from the sizzling desert sand, wifey finally broke her silence.
Scroll.in
6 days ago
- General
- Scroll.in
‘I am not scared / I am not alone': A young girl and a temple elephant become friends
New Grief When Amma died, I became numb. Now, this new grief awakens me, jerks me alive like I have seen doctors do on TV with two iron box–like things shocking their patient's hearts into beating again. Is it wrong to say I have never felt so much grief before? Even more than what I felt for Amma? Guilt gnaws at my heart, but it's true. Maybe because Ganeshan has no one to love him and care for him the way Amma had. Only a silly old man claiming to be his carer. Worried My mind is like a sieve, everything passes through it. All it can hold are the chunky, heavy thoughts about Ganeshan. Is he okay? Was a doctor called in? Is Chandu taking good care of him? Last Day of School The last few weeks drift by in a blurry waste of time. And the final exams are but a disaster. I have a new worry to add to my list now. My school report! The class teacher hands out everyone's reports. I chew on a nail. What if I don't make it to next year? I quickly scan the report for any huge red letters across it and let out a huge sigh. I passed! Trrriiiinnnggg … There's a shout of Yaaaayyy! even before the bell stops ringing. And I am caught in a sea of Happy holidays!, See you in eighth grade! and Have a fab summer break! I navigate through it all and rush out to the waiting school bus so that I can be with my thoughts alone again. Summer Holidays Glorious l o n g days of nothingness. Before. Now they are just l o n g days of nothingness. Celebrations and Mourning It's April and Vishu, the new year today. I wear my yellow skirt again. It hangs above my ankles now. But I don't want to let go of it yet. At the temple ground, the konna tree stands as bare as a Kerala bride without her jewels. The yellow flowers picked, no doubt for Vishu Kanni, the first auspicious glimpse of the day, in the hope that the rest of the year would be as lovely and golden as the flowers offered at the altar. Acha and I, we don't celebrate Vishu, don't burst crackers, don't cook a feast. Not even the vermicelli payasam both of us love. People say 'one year' of mourning. My heart says it will mourn forever. Temple Elephant Everyone calls Ganeshan the temple elephant now. They say the owner donated him to the temple. The whole town is glad because it's a matter of pride to own an elephant and not have to rent one anymore. I am glad because I can see him every day now. Born Again Amma used to say that souls get born and reborn. Again and again. I am not sure I believe completely in rebirths. But maybe it's true. Maybe Ganeshan was my brother or father, sister or mother, or even a close friend in my last birth because I feel like I already know him, already love him, like his pain is mine his story is mine. How else can I explain the instant bond I feel with him? Quiet Company As soon as I hear that he is ours now, I rush over to see him. He greets me with his trunk, stroking me from head to toe till I push it away, laughing. Feeling better, my friend? He replies with a rumble, a deep sound from somewhere inside his tummy. Kind of like my neighbour's cat purring, but much louder. Snuggling by his neck, I feed him the bananas I bring from home, enjoying his quiet company like I hope he enjoys mine. Sunshine Meeting Ganeshan is like a knock on the door of my heart. Gently inviting me outside to feel the sunshine again. My heart squints at the brightness. But I am not scared. I am not alone. Anymore. Curiosity People are strange. When they don't understand others they probe and prod them. Often roughly, unkindly, like lab animals in cages. People prod me with cruel words. But Ganeshan, poor Ganeshan gets prodded with nasty, pointy sticks.
The Hindu
23-05-2025
- Health
- The Hindu
Low sodium salt substitutes yet to take off in city
The Indian Council of Medical Research has cited a recent survey by the National Institute of Epidemiology in the city that found that low sodium salt substitutes were available only in large shops. It is an alternative to the regular table salt which is high in sodium content. The study said a survey in Chennai found that 52% of supermarkets and hypermarkets had stocked low sodium salt whereas only 4% of the local grocery shops had them. ICMR's #PinchForAChange movement aims to improve access to healthier choices, one of its post read. The World Health Organisation's Department of Nutrition and Food Safety had, in January, launched new guidelines on the use of salt with lower sodium content. Normal salt is a combination of sodium and chloride. Low sodium salt substitutes (LSSS) was advocated to reduce blood pressure and risk of cardiovascular diseases.The alternative generally used is potassium chloride. WHO has recommended reducing sodium intake to less than 2 grams/day. It also suggested replacing sodium with potassium but with cautions that potassium cannot be used by pregnant women, children, and those with kidney impairment. Rajan Ravichandran, nephrologist who is attached to MIOT Hospitals, and has been advocating salt reduction for several years says: 'About 50% of supermarkets sell low sodium salts. Black salt, Himalayan salt, senda namak, rock salt and indupu are not true low sodium salt substitutes. They contain 90% to 95% sodium with additional magnesium calcium.' True low sodium salt substitutes contain 20% to 40 % potassium chloride. The taste is affected if potassium in high, he adds. 'Monitor regularly' Dr. Rajan cautions that persons with kidney failure and people on certain tablets for hypertension must be wary of the potassium content. 'Patients must have a clear understanding of the amount of potassium content in the LSSS they consume. They should monitor their blood potassium level regularly,' explains Meenakshi Bajaj, faculty, Clinical Nutrition, Madras Medical College. She calls for better literacy among the people and pointed out that the Amma low sodium salt that was sold at ₹10 per kg was discontinued for want of awareness among the public. She suggests using naturally available taste enhancers such as powders of herbs and spices; citrus juices and vinegar; umami-flavoured ingredients such as nutritional yeast which is low in sodium, tomato paste and dried or powdered mushrooms; celery seeds that have a naturally salty flavour and dried seaweed (in moderation).
NZ Herald
17-05-2025
- Entertainment
- NZ Herald
Auckland Writers Festival special: Saraid de Silva - ‘Amma' extract
To celebrate the 2025 Auckland Writers Festival, we've teamed up with New Zealand publishers to showcase some of the authors who will be on stage over the festival weekend. This extract is from 'Amma' by Saraid de Silva. Silva will appear at the festival at the event Kaliane Bradley: The on Saturday, May 17, 2.30pm.
Hans India
12-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Hans India
Emotional ‘Amma' song from ‘Friday'unveiled by AP Home Minister
Andhra Pradesh Home Minister VangalapudiAnitha launched the heart-touching song 'Amma' from the upcoming Telugu suspense thriller Friday. Directed by EswarBabuDhulipudi and produced by Kesanakurthi Srinivas under Sri Ganesh Entertainments, the film features Diya Raj, Inaya Sultana, Rihana, Vikas Vasishta, and Rohith Boddapati in lead roles. The poignant track, sung by SnigdhaNayani with music by Prajwal Krish and lyrics by Madhu Kiran M, has struck an emotional chord with listeners and is going viral as a Mother's Day tribute. Minister Anitha praised the song and lauded the team for its heartfelt portrayal of a mother's love. The launch event was attended by cast and crew members who shared emotional reflections. Snigdha dedicated the song to mothers of soldiers, while Inaya and others praised the film's unique concept and emotional depth. Director Eswar highlighted the cultural significance behind the project, stating it explores how a mother's emotional state impacts her unborn child. With post-production underway and buzz building around the film's touching content, Friday promises to be an emotionally resonant cinematic experience. The release date will be announced soon.
