Watch out for this bus, Trivandrum-ites!

Six months of continuous 'residentship' in Trivandrum and being married to a Trivandrum resident, qualifies me as a budding Trivandrum-ite (I hope). [My bank thinks otherwise, though — it took quite a bit of cajoling to open account with them.]

With that assurance lemme move forward...

This beautiful city has a fondness for things from the past. I learnt today, buses are, perhaps, one amongst those.

Hubby dear n I were on the way home after a — burrrrrrrrrrrrp — heavy lunch, happy n content with the world, except for minor problems like unpaid loans, financial quandary, my dismal job hunt and so on.

We had the ancient ruins of a KSRTC bus chug-chugging along in front us. For the uninitiated, most KSRTC buses operating on the roads are prehistoric relics that ought to be right at the bottom of a junk pile that belongs to some bygone era. They are rickety, long past their expiry dates and beg to be put to sleep, failing which, they take their revenge by knocking down pedestrians, give up on their drivers or by riding straight into a fellow vehicle.

We overtook the bus and were just past the rear when the bus goes Pooooof! A huge blast of pitch black smoke from it's dented mangled side and we were thrown into darkness in just a second. Hubby dear slammed on the brakes 'cos we can't see a thing!

This bus, I bet, is one of the chief contributors to air pollution in this part of the country! And our car's one shade darker than it was in the morning.

Aviators and Peeling Shallots

I just can't resist telling you a short story before I get to the actual topic...

I love to cook. I love to eat. If someone else does the cooking, even better — as long as the 'someone' is not my neighbour (she loves to dole out a vile pork preparation sopped in vinegar).

I took to cooking like duck to water. Even though most of my preparations are not palatable for the lesser mortals, they are passable with a few really good ones.

I've had my moments of glory, like the day when my classmate let me have the entire box of my sandwiches after trying out just one bite. Maybe she just didn't want to deprive me of the pleasure of eating my own sandwiches.

Cooking my own dishes means, cutting up veggies and 'other things' — including fingers — myself. 'Other things' include onions and shallots.

To the uninitiated, shallots are the smaller version of onions. Whatever it is that makes your eyes water, is found in a more concentrated form in shallots. And since they are small, you need to peel more of them to get a sufficient quantity.

My clever mother (now you know why am so clever) gets me to peel all the shallots. I end up having swollen red eyes and a runny nose. Mom said I'll get used to it.

It's been more than 10 years now, and yes, I got used to it. But my eyes havn't.

I've tried many techniques to lessen the misery. Refusing to peel shallots being one of them. But for the betterment of the humankind, and of course, to restore peace at home, I always dutifully complied.

But today, I discovered that wearing a pair of Aviators (Ray Ban and no less) while peeling shallots give you a temporary relief. They tell you to 'Never Hide'. I disagree completely. They have no idea what a relief it is to hide your delicate eyes from the harmful effects of the shallot-fumes!