To BLuff or not to Bluff

Mike set the glass down and smacked his lips.

'Lucky,Lucky,Lucky, I seem to remember you giving me a lecture once about playing poker.'

'Poker?'

'Yes,poker. You said the best part of the game was the bluffing. And now you come to me empty- handed, asking for money. Lnowing that, why should I pay you?' (P.133)

Even though my grandmother forbade cards at home ( or perhaps because she did) I loved playing cards with my friends - especially on days when it was raining hard and it was impossible to go out. Of course in those days we didn't play Poker but - the childhood game of Bluff. I remember one particular rainy afternoon when the children were also getting bored, I suggested we all play Bluff. Immediately, my older boy rushed to the drawer where he had secretly hidden the cards. Half way through the game when I saw my younger boy's pile of cards growing higher and higher as he tried bravely to keep away the tears that threatened to spill......... I decided to come to his rescue. Since I had long since finished my cards and was technically out of the game, I took his side and quietly whispered in his ear : 5 Tens. The little one was shocked. He looked up and said 'But mom, that's a lie. And you said you should never tell a lie."

That was the end of Bluff as far as my son was concerned...................

Good luck and bad luck

While looking out for Mike Lockwood's office in New York, Lucky comes across a used syringe.

Hardly an auspicious omen, she thought ( P.131).

Lucky is not the only one who looks out for signs that portend good or evil. Even the most rational of us tend to believe in superstitions especially when we are stepping out for that special deal to happen. For instance, I have a particular superstition : whenever I see Mr. Shroff step into the elevator, I know for a fact that my day will go wrong or whatever it was that I set out to do won't get done. I tried not blaming him for my mishaps but was it coincidence that the first time I saw him my flight was cancelled, the second time I saw him my son missed his first prize at the competition we were going to? I can go on and on about how Mr. Shroff is my albatross - or perhaps it is just God's sign that things will not go well and I should thank Mr. Shroff for warning me in advance.

Of course there are good signs too! For instance when my hand itches, I almost always get some money and whenever I hear Cliff Richard's song "Congratulations" playing on the radio ( which is very, very rare these days!!!) I know I am going to really get lucky!

Souvenirs or kitsch?

Behind him on the wall was a bookshelf with price catalogues, dictionaries for translating various foreign languages to English and vice-versa, and a variety of oddities, no doubt accumulated during Mike's numerous travels : a teak wood Buddha, a happy scene from a Chinese fishing village carved in ivory; a mural of a Polynesian wedding ceremony made from bits of coloured feathers;....................... ( P131)

It has been a tradition among travelers to bring home mementos of their trips abroad. So many people feel it is imperative to bring back bric a brac , handicrafts, souvenirs or giveaways for their friends and relatives back home. Most common are of course mugs or tee shirts proclaiming " I was in......" or" I Love......"

Sometimes these quirky reminders of their holidays which reflect their own interests are well well crafted traditional handicrafts but one has to choose carefully because it is quite easy to cross the line from art to crass.

What kind of mementos do you bring home?

Prop-er Yoga?

'What belts?'

'My yoga belts. I bought them with my own money abd brought them in for my students.'

'Told you, they're a no-go. Read the denial tehy're non-essential; too much liability potential. Seems to me you're doing fine without them, anyway.'

'No, they are essential to our practice. Can't we keep them locked up?' (p.128)

Like most Yoga teachers Lucky uses props to make sure that the pose can be held for a longer time and she tries her best to convince Warden Capps that belts were essential to Yoga practice. Naturally, being a potential weapon, the use of belts is denied and Lucky wonders how she can go ahead with the class.

Nowadays, with all the props floating around : belts, bricks, chairs, benches, ropes, sticky mats, bolsters,blankets, wedges, bars, and a list getting longer by the day, yoga class is almost beginning to resemble a workshop of sadists with people stretched out over back benches, or people in sarvangasan with hips resting on chair seats with arms clenched tight to the chair legs, bodies contorted in impossible twists made possible with belts and of course the good old shirsana practitioners who hang upside down on ropes!

Honestly,I miss those good old days when all that was required was a plain old towel.

A towel which doubled up as a mat for the head and shoulder stands and supported knees in a camel pose, or a roll under the knees for a virasan and finally spread out into a carpet for the shavasan.

The new girl in yoga class

Lucky grinned. From the second week on her class had been full and it had remained that way ever since. Most of the inmates were making progress-clumsy progress, but progress nonetheless. They no longer confused the striking cobra pose with push-ups, or turned the proper names of the asanas into sexual innuendos or bickered like high-school boys at recess. (P.123)

While all the asanas or poses are basically the same, there are various schools of Yoga practice. Yoga class seems simple especially when you are on the sidelines watching. Over the years, I have been to several yoga classes beginning with the simple gentle ones and gradually going on to more vigorous, dynamic yoga.

I can never forget my first class ever at the Iyengar school. Bright and early, I went inside the class which was waiting for the teacher to arrive. There was pin drop silence and all the students were busy doing some pose or the other. Some of them were sitting in a meditative pose, others were lying down in the corpse pose, a few were standing on their heads, while yet some more were hanging upside down like lemurs from the ropes suspended on the walls. I was quite intimidated by their proficiency! Despite my years of practice, I seemed like a novice.

After the class began, I realised that the method of instruction in this class was simply to observe the person in front of you and get into the pose. Then, our master, Kobad, would come around randomly and either correct the errant pupil or praise someone's exceptional pose. I quite liked this system and I was enjoying the class, till I saw him approach me from the corner of my eye. My heart began to pound . What would he do? Would he yank my arm into position, kick my leg back or simply praise me for my perfect pose?

I found out soon enough. He grabbed my upper arm and began kneading it while he yelled gleefully to the class : "Look at this butter ball - a perfect example of Porbandar's Pure Ghee!"

While the class snickered, I died a hundred deaths and tried hard to keep the pose without burning up in embarrassment.

The Indian Parliament

"Many years ago," she said, "I was the first woman to be elected to the Indian Parliament." (P 121)

This magnificent building in New Delhi, houses the Indian Parliament which consists of the Representatives of the people ( Lok Sabha or Lower House) and the Council of States ( Upper house). Our Parliamentary system draws heavily from the Westminster model but our representatives' behaviour is often far from Parliamentary.

We actually have a TV channel that broadcasts live the proceedings of Parliament. Sometimes, when I am bored with the mundane stuff I see on television, I watch the Parliamentary proceedings - I am amazed at the stuff our MP's come out with. During one session last year, there was actually a group of MPs who brought along a sack and took out huge sums of money claiming that these sums were used to buy votes!!!

In yet another session, the representatives actually got violent and threw around tables and chairs.

Is this freedom of speech or sheer boorishness?

Hope dawns anew every morning

"Our country's independence didn't come without a price. My husband's estates were seized by the British and much of our land was across the border in Pakistan. All of that was lost. My husband was murdered by rivals in the riots and my sons- my small sons were burned alive in our home. I, too, had many questions about life. Why do things happen the say they do?" P. 122-122)

Sensing Lucky's hesitation in accepting her theory of renouncing all desires for the material world, Shanti shares her tragic personal story where she lost all that was dearest to her. The Indian freedom struggle, like all social and political revolutions demanded a price. It may sound harsh, but it is nature's law : every new morning comes after the darkness of night, however dark it may be.