Archive for ‘December 2009’

'Do you know how big a curse it is for a parent to let their child go away?', he asked. He was speaking about his daughter who had gone to Southampton for studies. Parents and the daughter, unable to bear the separation spoke on the internet for at least 3 hours a day, everyday, he said.

'She feels lonely and homesick. She has made no friends, She is scared to call you. Will you be an angel and call her, be a friend, somebody to talk to apart from us?', he asked. Scared? We don't even know each other! Only when he spoke I came to know this relation existed - she was my mother's maternal uncle's wife's paternal uncle's daughter. She was somewhere in the UK, homesick and lonely, and vaguely related to me - so I was expected to baby-sit her although she was around my age.

'How on earth could she make friends if you hogged up 3 hours everyday?', I thought. And why exactly should I care? If they had expected me to pick her up from the airport or search an accommodation for her or guide her on certain things or even let her stay at my place for a few days, I can understand. I would have done that. What do you expect me to do when you say 'be a friend'? If she did want a 'friend', shouldn't she initiate communication, email or call me saying 'Hi, I have heard about you from a common aunt. I am ... This is my phone number. I had a few things to ask you. Could you please help me out?'? Oh wait, I forgot, she is scared.

Did I call her? Yes. I am cynical, but not cold-hearted. I risked being a total idiot, she didn't pick up, so I left a voice mail saying 'Hey I am so and so, I spoke to your father last night and he wanted me to call you to see if you are doing OK and also to get to know you. So you can always call me back on this number when you are free, if you are not scared that is.'

That call was never returned. Did I scare her more?

'Do you know how big a curse it is for a child when their parents don't let them go?', I thought. It makes them incapable of standing on their own legs, lack confidence, weak, unable to defend themselves against a cruel world, yes it's timid girls like her who are easy victims of the society's ugly offenders.

All over the world, parents let children go, to studies, careers, marriages. To let go what they thought of as the reason of their existence, the axis around which their lives revolved, their identity, definitely must not be easy. Yet, they don't call it a curse. They do it with a smile, a suppressed tear. When those children become parents, they too let go of their children when the time comes. And I honestly don't think these parents love their children any less, if I may say, they only love their children more. It sometimes makes me wonder, what would have been more difficult for them? Going into labour? Altering priorities, lifestyles, careers to fit the little one in? Or preparing in instalments to let the child go for it's own good?

And yet the other kind of parents do exist. The ones who will have their children revolve around them as a returned favour. The child's 'responsibilities' chalked out even before they can spread their wings. Make the child feel guilty of petty happinesses that they had all for themselves. Not letting go of the children for the fear of the child 'getting spoilt', fear of a lonely ageing,  fear of what will everybody say.

Or maybe it is just a lack of trust in their own children...

I am not sending Amma a bouquet again.

This time, I sent her a beautiful bouquet of all sorts of flowers in it, beautifully arranged and kept in a round glass vase. She received it in the night. Super thrilled by it, she took out one flower and kept it near a God's photo. Next morning, the maid servant wears a Saree which is the same colour as one of the flowers. So the maid gets one to wear on her hair. 2-3 small ones are sent to gran so that she can wear it. Another gran staying in the house does a puja, so she adorns other Gods' photos with flowers too and rest of the flowers' petals are plucked out to do what they call a 'pushpa archana' (form of worship). Stems and fillers are duly thrown away. What happened to the cute round vase you ask? It is now used for keeping spoons and forks.

Again, what was I thinking gifting her a bouquet?

Happy Birthday to one of the best birthday gifts I ever got!
Yup people, that's what Dido is, my precious birthday gift :-)

I could tell you all kinds of stories about her, but that might land me in trouble!
So repecting her privacy, here are a few lines on my darling friend-

My eyes brim
With laughing aloud,
Sorrows skim
No tear allowed.

She makes me swim
On the ninth cloud,
Nothing's ever dim
If she's in the crowd!

Her heart pure and prim
Makes me proud,
Full of fancy and whim
She is, as vowed.

She's friendship's true hymn
To her, my heart has bowed...

My colleague M forced me to watch the movie 'Cloudy with a chance of meatballs'. I did and I loved it!
Now this scene has stayed with me.

There's a scientist in the town who can make it rain food! It's little Cal's birthday and Cal's dad arranges something with the scientist -

There was a discussion on the radio about  marriage, love, extra marital affairs, cheating, etc, etc.

One caller, who sounded like a middle-aged lady said

"I'd rather have my husband visiting prostitutes rather than have a single mistress."

I was just about to recover from that shock when another caller said

"Sex is merely the exchange of skin cells and body fluids. What is the big deal about it? I'd be OK with my partner sleeping around, but never OK with them having a best friend to share their emotions and develop a bond."


No best friend? Gah!


Sadly many women voiced similar opinions!

Am I ancient/alien in this planet or are they??? Is this what it has all boiled down to?
Scary.

A hot cup of Earl Grey tea
A warm ham and cheese toastie
Boss absent
The first few flakes of snow falling like lost feathers outside the window
A Christmas song on the radio

Absolute bliss :-)

I went shopping on Sunday for a dress and shoes, returned home after 6hrs with only some make-up, tired legs and a rumbling stomach. I hurried to the kitchen to make myself some Maggi, and I finally sat down (which felt like absolute bliss). I finished off the entire bowl in less than 10min. I lay on the couch like a lazy crocodile as I thought hard on why couldn't I possibly get a dress or a pair of shoes that I really wanted.

Hunting for dresses has always been a task for me. Either they reveal too much or cover too much. I have that colour or I hate that colour. It's loose or tight in the wrong places. So let's leave that aside. But I have always thought that London has the best shoes. Why couldn't I find the pair that would steal my heart?

The first place I went to had this gorgeous black beauty. I wore it sitting down and admired my own feet. Surely, this pair was the most flattering of all I'd seen or worn. The price was reasonable too! Happily I got up, to walk a small distance to gauge my comfort. As soon as I got up, my legs fitted in beautifully. No tight corners, no biting edges. Those shoes were kissing my feet. I smiled and took the first step. A tearing pain shot straight up my leg till it reached my tail bone. 'Muscle pull' I thought and I took another step. Another shooting pain on my other leg. One more step I took, I thought I'd get paralyzed now! I made a run with my old loyal shoes for the exit!

After failed attempts in very many shops, I finally found a pair, that was decent, didn't try to chew into my legs and definitely let me walk without 'muscle pulls'. This pair had a cute badge on the sides which had stones embedded in them. One of them had a stone missing. I asked the shop assistant to get me another pair in the same size. They didn't have one, so she said she'd give me a 10% discount. 'Why would I want to buy defective shoes?', I asked her. Just as I was about to leave, I asked if she could find out if any of the neighbouring branches did have it in their stock. No luck there. Then I asked if she could do something about it, say replace that badge with another from some other shoe. She refused and reminded me about the discount yet again. And I sulked and went home.

'Mumbai sure spoiled me', I thought, having finished my Maggi. If you go into any shop in Mumbai on the street, not in a mall, and you have proved that you are a potential customer, not just a window shopper, things would be so different. From my past experience, had this situation happened in Mumbai, this is how it would have been...

I'd walk into a shop, a salesman would let me scan through all the shoes. I pick 4-5 shoes and sit down. He'd then bring those shoes to me, in my size and help me put them on. Then he'd praise the shoes and how they fit. His manager or another salesman would offer a cold drink or tea or coffee. When I'd politely refuse, he'd insist and send a boy to get a 'Mangola'. Say I liked a pair and it had a stone missing, he would first try to sell something else, something similar. Seeing I have my heart on it, he'd ask me to wait while he replaces the badge. If it's not in his capacity to replace it, he'd make me wait and ask the boy to go and get it from some 'godown'. If there is no such 'godown', he'd politely tell me the address of another branch nearby that might have it. In the worst case scenario, he'd tell me another shop, not their branch, where I can find it.

Yes, he would. It has happened so many times. Agreed the salesmen in Mumbai are quite pushy, but when it comes to shopping, you are sure made to feel like 'Customer is GOD'.

Oh, how much I miss being so important to random strangers!

PS: I spoke only about Mumbai as I have rarely shopped in any other city in India. If you know any place that makes you feel good about losing your wallet's weight, please share  :-)

Am I a crazy-magnet? Why do I get more than my fair share of crazy people everyday?

Like last evening, when I was going home from work. As I boarded the train, I saw a girl in her 20's, very pretty, walk up to the door from her seat. She stood facing the door, very close to it, almost had her nose touching it, and had a violin case in her hand. The violin case was hitting the man standing behind her on the knee many times, but she paid no heed. She had a smile, a goofy smile plastered to her face. I realized she must be high either on drugs or booze or just coocoo! I looked around, there was no vacant seat, so I stood opposite her, listening to music and playing games on my iPod.

"Excuse me", she said looking at me. I heard it but didn't look up and pretended that I didn't hear her at all. After a tiring day at work, I really did not fancy any kind of conversation with coocoo/high people. But she didn't it let go. She tapped my knee with her violin case to get my attention and asked with a slurry speech, "Whath are ya liztening tho ehh?".

"Random stuff", I said and started playing my game again. I was desperate to cut the conversation short.

"That'z a good zong", she said and started singing in a broken tune
"Randome zthuffz  na nan nana nana na".

People around us started having suppressed giggles. Unable to contain mine, luckily I found a seat vacant and rushed towards it!

She came at 12 in the night making her brother drive her to my house with a blackforest cake and a candle assuming it was my birthday that day. She came again next week when it really was my birthday. She would tutor me in my weak subjects before exams yet score lesser than me as she would be busy staring at me all the time while writing them, to check if I am doing alright whereas I would not even raise my head, lest I forget something. She was with me during one of the darkest phases of my life being all my strength. She would never think twice to scold me but never keeps a grudge. Though I didn't meet her very long ago, she has become my second conscience. The girl who's never on time, the girl who loves animals more than humans, the girl who loves to sleep, and yet the girl who chases every dream of her's until it stops running away from her. A 'go-getter', the girl who kicks life's ass to get what she wants. I am very proud of you dear, and honoured to have you in my life. You are one of the very few I can blindly count on. And a special thanks for pouring a bucket full of 'masti' over my head, tickling me till I burst, shaking me out of any frown - I mean, thanks for introducing Di to me and completing our circle of craziness :-)

Here's wishing Ri, a happy and a joyous birthday, and a life ahead which bestows upon her all that she deserves and much more. This year she is about to tread the path which many of us dread to - but she has her man to hold her hand firm and tight. I pray she gets all that she wishes for and is always happy as she is all set to become her man's 'significant other'.

One day an angry boss asked me why is there a typo (Thank you written as Thankyou) on a web page I made.


Boss: Did you write that?

It's an image which a colleague S had made. He is notoriously well known for typos and spelling blunders. It's not my style to say 'he did it' and shift the blame or point fingers even if it's true, especially when that person isn't around. So I fumble...

Me: Well let me see if it's typed in directly or is an image. Coz images are usually done by S, isn't it?
Boss:(got the hint) So S did it?
Me: Errr.... looks like it...
Boss: Well tell him 'Thank you' is spelt with a space in between, if he doesn't agree, argues, ask him, ASK HIM how is 'Fuck you' written. Ask him, will you?

I am going to be a bad bad mother, not that I am in a hurry for becoming one. But yes, I realized it last night, when I found out that the shelf life of my anger is 2 min max. Last night I got very angry with AB for doing things which meant not giving me enough time and I walked into my room, when he followed, I made him sit far and turned my back. And what did I do having turned my face away? I started laughing. It all seemed a joke, my anger - silly. I tried my best not to move a lot while laughing or I'd lose the game. Anyway, I turned around to face him, and why should he look a lot cuter when I get angry? So we spoke and in 10 min we were normal. I was not like this before...

Does that mean he won't do the same things again? NO. Does it mean I am too forgiving and loving? NO. Does it mean he really looks cuter when I get angry on him? Maybe (He's started working out too, me likes it :-)). Let's face it - I am WEAK. If this is what is happening to me with AB, imagine how cute I'd find the kids that would look like mini AB.

Looks like I'll join the party when I see them colouring the walls and AB would be the parent!
That would be a good way of getting back at him I suppose :-)

Conversation between AB and a guy at a hotel who was drinking a lot of wine but was not drunk.
AB: 8 glasses of wine! That's bad
Guy: Errr for whom?
AB: Your health of course
Guy: I know and I still choose to drink. Why should anybody be bothered? Who made these rules of what is good and bad? No offence to you, but do you know where the understanding of good and bad originated from? Like, do you see that lady doing office work on her laptop on the other table? Will you say it is good or bad to just lift her skirt up?
AB: Of course bad!!!
Guy: If I say she went to the swimming pool 10min ago in a bikini, then?
AB: She wore a bikini by her choice, your lifting her skirt up will be against her will, so disrespectful!
Guy: I see... So if according to her will, she sits here in the lobby and does her office work in a bikini, wouldn't people mind it?
AB: Yes... But...
Guy: Who is this person who made all these rules?

The example he gave might seem silly, but the issue is not. Who decides 'this is what is expected out of a good woman/man', 'what is good/bad for children', 'what religious practices can be allowed in this country', and so on... So when AB came home and told me what happened, I thought hard and long (I even downed half a bottle of wine with the excuse of putting myself in that guy's shoes). I did come up with my own theory though. Most of the rules do look like they were made for convenience rather than morality... But that's for later. Now I want to know your take on it.

Whoever made random rules whenever, why do we follow them(or not)? Are we always rational about every belief of ours?

'Happy birthday daddy', I jumped on his bed at 12 in the night, switched on the lights and woke him up. He half opened his eyes, blood-red with sleep, and took the flower I got him from my plant. The plant I used to water, take care of and never let anybody else touch it. He smiled. With arms wrapped around him I gave him what he liked to collect the most - a pen. It did look very fancy and I loved his handwriting.

Amma came with a beautiful gold ring. 'That's for you, you 50 year old man', said she. We had gone shopping for a good 3 hours looking for a ring we both liked. Before the look of surprise settled on his face, 'It was her idea' amma said looking at me. I rolled my eyes to imply 'That was a silly thing to say' and I did scold her for giving me the credit and ruining the romance in the moment, the next day.

My super sleepy daddy thanked us and slept right away, I slept with them on their bed that night.

The man who hated to celebrate his birthday since the death of his twin brother, for the first time was gleaming the whole day after he woke up.

This was 9 years ago on this date. The last birthday of his life. The last happy memory I have of him.

They say time heals, but love hurts faster and deeper than time to even start healing.

asks my colleague J.

He says after marriage, men are in a lose-lose situation. If the wife stays, she ends up ruling your life and making you live as per her standards, if she leaves, she turns you into a pauper, leaves after looting you of your wealth. Apart from the free house keeping (it's cheaper to get a maid) and sex(ahem, which you don't get a lot of anyway after you are married), marriage offers nothing to men according to him.

As for kids, he believes people should do this planet a favour, not increase the population more than what it is and he can't appreciate India and China enough for restricting the number of children one can have.

I didn't know what to say! I dared not to use words like 'love', 'emotional security', 'companionship'. Like they say, a fool's question sometimes can't be answered by a 100 wise men, or is it the other way in this case?

So guys out there, do you agree with J and girls, help me out here please!



PS: I have to admit, I sometimes do wonder should anybody - man or a woman - get married at all? Isn't being in love enough?

PPS: J is unmarried, has no kids, no girlfriend in the present and above 50 years old