The Sea....

It being just the start of the week…and work coming to a drag…me being trapped in the four walls of a huge hall with a miniscule cubicle for myself on the 18^th floor of a brick and mortar cement sky scrapper….I cast a melancholy glance at the sea giving up on it being another overloaded work day…. As I look at the endless sea stretching to an unknown boundless end to infinity…as far as my eyes carry me…when I look out of the window of my office cubicle…I see…

A 15 yrs old boy with a boat in one hand and a fishing net in other…walking towards the sea in the heavy rain….He looks at the sea and waits for a second to catch his breath and then looks towards the sky…his eyes wistful…looking at the vast black threatening clouds looking down towards him challenging him on his expedition with his life on bet…He raises his hand as if to signal to the clouds that he accepts the challenge or may be calling on to the mercy of the Gods for the day….and thrusts his boat into the water….

The sea seems to imbibe in him a new sense of hope…… and happiness to be engulfed by that very sense of hope which seem to flow towards him just like the ripples coming in the form of waves…flowing towards the shore….He steps into the boat with the net in one hand and starts rowing into the sea…..a heavy ghust of wind with full fury sweeps his fishing net past the boat…but he still clings on to the net as if he is clinging on to the only morsel of food of the day….The gigantic waves of the sea rock his boat dangerously…yet he continues his fishing unperturbed ….his face holding a grave expression just like the sea…his body wet with the garrulous rain…yet he seems to be determined and very casual as if it was just another day…Hrs go by and every time my gaze goes towards the sea I cast my eyes on his thin body laboriously fighting against the tides….. As the day progresses I see many more young boys of his age occupied with the same task as different points in the sea…and of all them seem to be chatting gleefully waving towards each other…blissfully oblivious of the heavy downpour...or the high tides…

As dusk sets in and I cast another look at the sea sipping coffee I find them all heading towards the shore…maneuvering their boats towards the shore…helping each other…smiling…tired but happy wither their bounty for the day…and my eyes search for the 15yr old boy…his body again running past up and down the rocky bank of the sea pulling each and every boat onto the bank…after ushering everyone to the rocks on the bank and anchoring the boats I see all of them gather by a huge rock…and the boys collecting something from the unmistakable 15 yr old boy…which seems like they distributing the bounty among themselves so that each one gets his morsel for the day…..

I finish my coffee and look ashamed at my reflection on my computer’s screen and rebuke myself for being so thankless and taking things that have been gifted by luck and fate to me for granted…

Just like the gleaming eyes of the boy who is now standing near the shore probably wishing hard that the next wave is big enough to flow over the rocks and come till the point where he is standing waiting for the waves to touch him…and his excitement and longing growing with every wave that touches him…I perceive life which we all anticipate would fulfill our yearnings with growing needs and expectations each time the waves of life touch us…..

And just like the boy who is not dismayed and doesn’t give up when a wave narrowly misses to hit the rocks and wash his feet….and is still looking towards the sea with full of optimism and hope…..I feel that we all can still strive to be happy…....boundlessly…just like the sea which seems to know no bounds…unperturbed by the innumerous ripples that keep rising and falling ..one after the other…repeatedly…As the boy still stands calmly…undisturbed..and still serene …the ripples only magnifying his inner strength ….

And That Makes Your Day :)....

A call right in the morning from home from your father just to hear to your voice before the start of the day...

A mail in your inbox from your best friend saying “Grrrrrrrrrrrrr....MAILLLLLL”

A nice cup of hot creamy coffee served by the office boy with a smile telling “Ma’am aapke liye aaj special coffee”

A small little unexpected hug by a cute little girl rushing to her school colliding into your legs all of a sudden

An elderly aunty whom you have offered place to sit asking you in the local train “Beta aapka naam kya hai...aap bilkul meri poti (granddaughter) ki tarah dikhti ho”

A taxi driver in the morning assuring you by telling “arey madam bilkul mat pareshaan hoyiye...hum aapko 9 ‘0 clock local aane se pehle traffic se nikal lenge”

Just in time to glance at the morning arati while heading towards the gate to catch the taxi...

A toothless smile from a baby while you are stuck in the traffic

And a mail from Blogbharati stating that “we would love to accept your application and welcome you as our new contributor in our team” :) :)

Did we hear India is going to be a superpower soon….

You are hurrying in the morning to catch the taxi parked infront of your building to the station when someone decides to give you an instant shower with leftover water in their mugs being used to water the plants in their balcony ….which they ofcourse found was convenient enough to be thrown out of the balcony than take the pain of walking down till the sink in their kitchens and disposing it off…

You barely make it to the station and are scurrying for the local when a lady decides to conveniently spit on you instead of the spit bin just about few steps away from her…

You reach the platform and clean urself with the little water that you carried for yourself to drink in the 1 hr long journey in the humidity of Mumbai to your office and wait for the train trying to get over your disgust when you see a man relieving himself standing in the public platform…infront of the entire world of people there…right onto the railway tracks…inspite of the public bathrooms put up on every platform of the station..

You finally see the train arrive …and to ur utter disbelief you see that the ladies compartment has a lot of sitting space available with just five ladies standing…without stopping to think as to why these ladies have opted to stand inspite of so much room available..you barge into the compartment only to realize some sacred soul had considered of all places on earth the ladies compartment auspicious enough to bless it with his holy shit…

So, finally it dawns upon you as to why those ladies preferred to stand instead and choose a safe place for urself far enough to block the sight of the sacred blessing….and just when you are trying to distract urself …suddenly a heap of thrash is thrown in from nowhere into the compartment ..which is because someone living in the slums situated directly over the hollow bridge through which the local train passes is letting out his frustration of having to accommodated a screeching train every half an hr right through his home…and decides to avenge by atleast throwing garbage at it daily when it passes by…and so the rest of the journey passes by by hearing to a tragedy queen's tragic life as background music .....non-stop right into ur ear....but ofcourse on her very personal mobile ph.....

So, did we hear India was soon to be a superpower….well, I want to know who is that super optimistic soul who thinks so…and want to bow before him and salute his optimism…

On Humanity Grounds……

The other day a very interesting incident occurred which left me with a smile when I was boarding the 6:15 P.M local on the way to my house. I have been smiling at the thought of that incident ever since it has occurred so I thought I might as well post about it…

It was the usual rush at CST…the regular hustle bustle and the regular feeling of asking the question to yourself “By any chance does the whole of the population of India reside on this platform”…anyway, after the usual pulling, pushing and tugging I reached the platform for the harbor line train…..Now, after a lot many life threatening incidents that I have happened to experience previously I have made a policy to stand as much away from the platform rail line on which the train is announced to arrive shortly rather than do the opposite as per the usual junta’s policy…so like every day I stood as much away as I could so as to not fall prey to the rushing of people for the other train due to arrive on the adjacent platform…And as usual the train arrived and before it could halt there was the usual scurrying of the ladies and girls and the usual pushing, pulling, screaming , wrestling etc for the ladies compartment…

Now on that day it so happened that in the usual struggle to get into the train first so as to occupy a seat a young girl who seemed like a college going girl in her early twenties happened to be fast enough to push through the crowd and hold the railing of the moving train just before it halted…trying to board it…in that very moment a lady who seemed to be in her early fifties happened to grab this young girl by the collar of her t-shirt and pulled her back to the station platform and tried to get past her….now by the time anyone of them could succeed the rest of the ladies crowd happened to get near the train and in the maze it so happened that that young girl although a little taken aback managed to get through the crowd and got a seat for herself whereas the lady although ahead was a little too slow to defeat the crowd…

Once everybody settled comfortably in the train…some having accomplished their desire of attaining a place and some having failed miserably with a frown on their faces…a few other give ups like me walked into the train and leisurely stood at a chosen comfortable place…now , it was the young girl’s turn to take her revenge and satisfy her ego so she addressed the lady who had pulled her back by her collar who was standing rt beside her clutching to a handle…and the conversation was as follows :

Girl : Hey you

Lady : Yes?

Girl : Aapne mujhe dhakka kyun diya

Lady : For the same reason why you pushed everyone and were standing ahead of the crowd

Girl : Sorry!!??....For what reason?

Lady : Simple, because even I needed a seat in the train

Girl : Oh, is it so?! So, u thot u could push me past without caring if I would fall off the platform onto the track…what if I were your daughter would u have still done the same?…Even on humanity grounds?

Lady : No, I wouldn’t have…because if you were my daughter you wouldn’t have kept sitting while you see your mother who is double ur age stand for 1 hr for the whole way…on humanity grounds…

Girl : Neither would my mother have pushed me off the platform and left me to die under the rail tracks…valuing her comfort more than anyone’s life..

And the conversation ended there. …The girl continued to sit though and the lady stood all the way…with a safe conclusion that Humanity word has ceased to exist…..and it looks like everyone is aware of its non-existence as well…

Not an Idealist….But The Very Imperfect Her…

These days when I come back from office and reach home after an hr of hectic (or do I call it adventurous just to motivate myself) travelling and open the door to an empty flat with a sofa set and a dining table in the hall to greet me…I have this urge for some/any human voice to be heard in the empty flat…and so after freshening up myself I invariably switch on the TV but only to my dismay….and I am really amused I must say by these serials which keep coming on every channel now a days…

I mean you switch on the TV and you start browsing for something worthy to watch…and in that little amount of time you spend in browsing or waiting for the advertisements to get over so as to discover which movie is being screened in that particular channel you end up knowing what is happening in which “saans bahu “ serial…..First of all I wonder whom are these serials being screened for…does anyone actually have the time and patience to watch them…even the housewives I don’t think should be watching them out of interest…may be out of sheer frustration as nothing apart from the serials seem to be screened on any of the channels…..and the most atrocious thing being that even news channels have started with giving updates on these serials…as if the trailers being screened 24/7 on every channel were not enough to feed us with enough unwanted updates……

Now the other thing that amuses me is…even if you give up in frustration and as I said just for some human voice to be heard in the house which is not speaking of bomb blasts and train derailments or cricket debacles even if u decide to put up with some nonsensical serial…what you end up watching is an adarsh sanskari bahu….respecting elders…respecting values and culture…who knows in and out of Bhagwadgita and can recite the same at the drop of the hat….who is next only to nightingale in singing bhajans..who by the way knows singing….and cooks finger licking food to everyone’s liking…remembering everyones tastes …who plans for b’days and weddings and all kinds of functions beforehand with a Giga Byte sized memory card fit in her head to remember all the dates…who is the favorite of the entire khandan kaka, mama, dada,dadi,fufa etc etc……who knows what sasu ma’s behen ki nanad ki bhanje ki beti likes and gifts it to her on the appropriate occasion…..whose only aim and ambition in life is everyone in the family adores her and stays tied up she being the glue attaching the family threads together….who is ready to hear and empathize with anyone in trouble in the family and give them moral support as and when needed…who is the perfect ardhangini to her husband whatever comes by……and a never ending list of virtues goes on which would define and re-define her as a complete devi…..

What are these people trying to picturize….I mean why can’t they show a bahu who is more human like and less of the divine natured that they screen…..who doesn’t have time to keep her house spotlessly clean and can manage to clean to livable standards only in the weekends….who doesn’t know how to cook and manages and struggles to make something edible for the day following and writing down instructions dictated by her mother on the phone…..whose day starts with burning bread for her husband…thrusting it on his plate and forgetting to put jam and requesting him to do so himself and trying to get ready to catch the overcrowded public transport available and be on time to her office…whose day goes with solving client issues, issuing reports, analyzing, hearing unsatisfactory remarks from her boss and returns home trying hard to get some place to stand in the public transport again…..whose patience level has reduced to zero by the time she reaches home and she tries hard to remember what she had to buy for grocery…..who struggles to open the door with grocery in both the hands and drops half the things and spends the next half hr cleaning and cursing herself…..who returns to a half clean home which looks clean only on the surface as its middle of the week and still there are three more days to go for the grand cleaning ceremony to happen on the weekend…..who wonders if she has the energy to cook tonight or should she order something from the canteen…..who assigns the task of cutting vegetables to her husband and tries to cook something edible again….whose patience level reduces to –ve when she sees the tray with cut vegetables and the entire area dirty around it with vegetable skin…..who takes out her frustration aloud which fall on deaf ears while cleaning the place….who has no more energy left to respond nicely and sweetly to anyone’s call or remember anyone’s b’day or anniversary or wish anyone even when her mother/mother in law calls up to remind her of so and so’s special day…..she is a person who prefers not to answer to her parents/in-laws questions like “Do you take a bath everyday in the evening and do puja”…”Do u light agarbattis when you go out of home in the morning”…”Have you cleaned the bathroom wall tiles also while cleaning the floor”…”Why don’t u just boil milk daily and have a cup in the morning before you leave for office”…..”Its ok if you cannot cook non-veg during the week…just daal, roti and a simple aloo baingan curry should do…with an omlete to go with it”….”Are u both having enough fruits after food daily…u must get fruits and have”….”why are u having just chowmien for dinner today……u should have cooked something which is food and not snacks for dinner”…..”What? u are having bread everyday for breakfast….you can prepare parathas no…just make all the preparations in the night itself…it hardly takes anytime”…..”You must attend so and so’s function you know….family relations need to be maintained”…..”Iron the dresses as soon as they are washed and dried…it will be good for you”..”Do u face east and do puja or not”…..”why can’t u come early from office so that u can keep a maid to come and do the chores in the evenings”…etc etc…..she is a person who values her career as much she values her family and struggles to strike a balance to the bare minimum extent required…..She doesn’t mind at times giving some extra time to her career which she had dreamt of and struggled to build from childhood…she has no time or energy for values, traditions, culture, Bhagwadgitas , pujas, wishings, superstitions etc…..she is a person who does get frustrated and very well vents it out too……she does lose her patience and cannot empathize with others woes….She does voice her opinion when there is or isn’t any need……She is selfish enough and needs appreciation, looks for people to value her efforts, comfort her, support her and listen to her from time to time frequently ……..She has full right to be childish and intolerable with certain things…….

And this is the real everyday women I am talking of……who is an imperfect bahu, an imperfect wife, an imperfect employee, an imperfect daughter etc…. an imperfect her….as she is playing these roles in real in an imperfect life and not on reel…She is the one who is normal, human and very much larger than life unlike those maniacs which the TV serials keep casting day in and day out only to create a false image of the women as a devi in a very wrong way……which only causes people to believe that girls can be such idealists which their daughters and daughter in laws and wives and sisters are not……I think these mahila mandals if they want to do any good to the society the first thing they should do is ban these serials..

Society it is.......

I remember my husband asking me “So what kind of an apartment should we look for “ and me answering instantaneously “A society kind…with lots of buildings…lots of people in one compound…only then we will not feel lonely in a city with no relatives…and probably make some frens too…it’s a society afterall”…..and so we did search for such an apartment and I was almost elated when we found one too and thanked God profusely……

Just abt 15 days after we shifted …..one day an elderly person comes to our flat and very nicely greets me and says “ Hi, could I go to ur kitchen”….Me surprised “Sure Sir”…..He inspects the kitchen for a while and says “This Aquaguard is urs na…when you fixed it did u fix this tap attachment also”…. More confusion from my side “ No sir…this was provided by the owner”….”Aaaah, no no my dear its not provided by the owner…its mine actually…I forgot to take it when I sold this apartment to ur current owner….you will have to detach that part and return it to me…and replace it with ur attachment”….Me baffled “But sir we have left our tap attachment in our old house which will take like two hrs to go from here”…..”Yeah so go and get it….take ur time…but I need my tap attachment”…..Me almost giving up “ Ok sir I ll see what can be done”…..”And yeah next time I come plz empty the letter box also and give me my letters….hope I didn’t cause much trouble…I am coming all the way from Chembur by taxi in this humid climate u know…” ….Me wondering after he left isn’t the fare by taxi from Chembur more than the price of the tap attachment which must hardly be 150 Rs or so…

Now, with less than a month in our new apartment…right in the morning when we are hurrying to go to office…..we suddenly are greeted by a dark, middle aged person…those typical owner of a clothes shop kinds..with a paunch…and a thick unmistakenably south Indian moustache…..”aa gaye aap”….which obviously got a surprised look on our faces for an answer as we didn’t expect someone waiting so desperately for us right in the morning…..” Main tumhara hi intezaar kar raha tha….tumne mera bike giraya hai…two times”……more surprised looks from us….”mereko bahut kharcha hua….aao dekho…mera handle toot gaya…mera bahut nuksaan hua…450 Rs. Ek baar ka”…….after abt 15 min of ranting from his side we were still clueless….then finally I said “Sir, shayad aapko galat femi huyi hai…its not us….kisi aur ne shayad galti se gira diya hoga…”…..obviously he wasn’t convinced…and instead said “ nahi tumhi ne giraya hai….madam mujhe paise dena hi hoga…aisa nahi chalega…teen baar gira mera bike”…..me more confused now how did it become three from two times….

Anyways, finally after a lot of convincing and ranting from both parties we came to a conclusion based on mutual understanding that lets exchange the parking lots then…may be that way he will be atleast convinced that we aren’t the culprits and he will also be happy with a closed parking exchange for an open parking space……

Night 11 ‘o clock on the same day we get a call on our intercom…again we both surprised as to why has someone chosen such an auspicious time to call…what could be the urgency…..and what follows is :

Caller : (A Female…please pardon me for not referring to her as lady) Are u C-512

S : Yes Ma’am

Caller : Take out ur car rt now from that parking space

S : Huh, Sorry Ma’am…I didn’t get u

Caller : I said take out ur car rt now and park it elsewhere

S : But ma’am could you kindly tell me what’s the problem

Caller : I can’t reverse my car

S : But ma’am I think there is enough space…aa…I think u can try to (Interrupted)

Caller : See let me clarify once again…I leave at 7 in the morning…my office is in Colaba…now if I reverse my car to left…which is easier for me…and which I have been doing till date…I can catch the direct route to the exit gate…now if you place ur car there I have to either spend time in reversing and be careful so as to not damage ur car…or take towards right…which is inconvenient for me as then I have to circle the entire building and spend 5 whole min to reach the exit gate….also u better know that my next neighbor is from Shiv Sena…and you better be thankful that I haven’t yet complained to the society incharge…did you understand the issue now…

S : OK ma’am now I got it…As the parking space is actually Mr. G’s who asked us to park our car there as he had some issues could I please request you to speak to him ma’am and settle the issue and let us know as we have no problem wherever anyone of you asks us to park our car…

Caller : No, why should I…you ask him to talk to me then…click (Line goes dead)

S called up G

G : (after hearing to the issue) kya bol rahi hai woh….agar meri gaadi hoti toh…do mujhe uska no.

S : Ok sir plz sort it among urselves and let us know

G : Thik hai…pehle tum no. do

After about half an hr call from G on the intercom

G : Suno tum gaadi udhar hi rakho…karne do usko complain…main bhi dekhta hoon kya kar legi who..

S : OK sir as you wish…I leave it to u both…Gudnite

So, society it is….I wonder when I see the slums that I pass by daily while going to the station everyday in the morning…people there are supposedly uneducated, less civil…and they seem to be living so amiably in that small hut shaped…constrained space…cooperating with each other…smiling and laughing around giggling away …everyday in the morning…..even if we assume that they too have such issues and quarrels…well then how different are we educated people living in a so called premium society from them anyway? If we are compared on the basis of tolerance level, patience, cooperation and other such parameters I won’t be surprised if our so called premium well educated society people will be beaten by the poor slum guys…

Mumbaikar Am I....

I remember the day when I had arrived in Mumbai and my husband had warned me that this city is going to be really tough…it’s a harsh city and to live here and survive here I need to make myself really strong and be prepared to work really hard…many of my friends had sympathized with me for having to leave Hyderabad and move to Mumbai and even thanked God for they being bestowed with some extra luck for not having to do so…Even the interviewers who had come to the campus to interview had said Mumbai is going to be tough do you think you can handle things there and manage …

And after all the scary stuff that I heard from everyone around me I am here now in Mumbai…trying to manage…trying to get into overly crowded trains and pray to God that everyone stays civil and do not push me overboard….Walking in and walking out of the very station where there had been a terrorist shoot out less than a year back without even having the time to think that such a ghastly incident had occurred only some time back….maneuvering and making my way through the crowd and through the stations where people seem to be running for their lives always in as much hurry….waiting for my turn to come while waiting in unending queues for buses and for that matter even the lift to go to my office which is on the 18th floor…..struggling with water scarcity even during the office hrs…..walking fully drenched in sweat on the roads searching for the bus and trains going in my route…waiting for lunch in a queue and finding a place to stand and gobble down some food……Walking down the slums teeming with people to my building ….

And I am still alive…surviving…and above all somehow I still like this place. Life no doubt is a struggle here…struggle for everyone….just as everyone had warned me and scared me…all that what they had said is true…but I don’t know why…Mumbai still feels like a home to me…

The basic reason why I guess I can’t develop hatred for this place is that life for everyone here is the same…ofcourse leaving out the extremely rich people who can afford some luxury out of this city everyone else has the same routine and the same lifestyle atleast in terms of the struggle without any discrimination whatsoever…and everyone knows that time and space are two invaluable things here and to survive here there is no escape but to work hard…and the best part is everybody even for that matter empathize with one another and try to help each other as much as they can….thus there is always a sense of security that you feel here…you know you can always go and ask for help if needed and you will even find help…..Its an accommodating city inspite of being overcrowded …probably that’s what they call is the spirit of Mumbai…

I also love the ‘never say die’ attitude of the people here…by being with them you are bound to develop umpteen amount of confidence in yourself without fail….and to top everything the best part of this city is its never late in Mumbai…it’s a city that wakes up and comes to life in the night….inspite of the struggle that people experience and go through in the day people in the evenings pull up themselves to make the city alive and lively….the sight of the city in the night …the very feel of it makes you feel revived and rejuvenates you in an unexplainable way…

The feeling of becoming a Mumbaikar so far has been quite appealing…may be it takes a lot of inner strength to maintain your poise here inspite of the hard life this city imposes on you but nevertheless probably every Mumbaikar is in love with the city in some or the other way….just that some acknowledge and some don’t acknowledge the fact…

Experiencing Independence.....

As the title of the post goes its like since the last one month I have been actually experiencing life in its true form ....Independence as the word goes I had never experienced it in its full form...Now when I understand what it actually means it seems as if the word Independence is too small for what it actually is....

When all of a sudden the task of finding a house, transferring your luggage all by yourself...cleaning, packing, unpacking, arranging and the numerous trips you make to do so...Rental agreement registration,Cable connection, TV installation, Washing Machine Installation, gas connection, Aquaguard, Newspaper, electricity bills, carpenter.....vegetables and other basic shopping ...its an unending list....All these things and many more which seemed so very trivial to us when we were in the comfort of our homes where parents used to take care of all these...they seemed so very trivial that I even failed to notice that so many things had to be taken care of and had to be thought about to set up a home.....It was like by the time we used to get back from school or office everything would be set at home and we never even bothered to think beyond it...

I remember when I was a kid and my mother would at times get irritated with the day’s work and shout at my brother and me when we would dirty the house...she would say that we don’t realize the value of what she was doing and one day when we would become independent and we are on our own we would understand ... I used to wonder then that why does she always stress so much on cleanliness and stuff when she herself says that none of us in the house values her doing so...and she had always retorted saying we will understand it by ourselves later .........And true to what she had said then today when I see myself so hell bent on cleanliness and putting stuff in their right places I realize....

When you try building a home right from scratch.....cleaning the entire apartment by urself...where even the color of the curtains are chosen by you and even the doormats are picked by you as per ur choice at the supermarket...it feels like you are nurturing something of your very own...you like each and every corner of the home to feel nice and warm....you feel dirty if the house is in a mess...you would like to enter your home and feel its fragrance fresh and scintillating....you would like to make it most comfortable for others...you feel the value of your effort when they entire tired and worn out into the house and you see a sense of relief in their eyes...when you sense the comfort that they experience as soon as they enter.........

But nevertheless it isn’t an easy job...setting a home, cooking, cleaning and working in a job...all at the same time. Everybody has been advising me to keep a maid to take care of the cleaning and cooking part ....and I know its sheer madness when I say I like to do things by myself....although I don’t claim that I will always do things by myself and I will never let a maid enter my home...I don’t say that but as long as I can manage and do things by myself I would love to do so....it somehow gives me a certain amount of pleasure and fulfilment in doing things myself.....especially cooking...I know I am still learning but I love to see everyone relishing something that I prepare from scratch....I love the praise I receive and at the same time I also love the consoling that I get when I burn a dish and we have no other go but to have that........

The feeling of Independence is too overwhelming for now to let it go so easily and let some outsider intrude into my privacy.....especially in those few hrs that I get to spend at home....

Home...

Home – the word itself sounds so soothing….how many times in the day I think of you….when I am having a tough time meeting deadlines…when I am exhausted and just want to relax…when I feel frustrated for no good reason and just want to run away somewhere…when I am down and out…when it’s a celebration with family…after a long tiring journey….how many times I yearn to get back to that place called home…

The one and only place which is truly relaxing…where I am nothing but myself…where I don’t care about my appearance…my clothes or my dressing…the way I carry myself…where the food always feels fulfilling…where the water always quenches my thirst…where the bed always gives me a peaceful relaxing sleep…where I like to receive calls from near and dear…where I always feel safe and secure….

Today when I have to leave you and shift to some other place I also realize apart from all the above there had been umpteen memories which also I am leaving behind with you here. …memories which never felt so overwhelming enough as long as you were with me…memories of the day I first walked into my very little home…hrs that I spent bringing you into shape…the day I had got my first gas stove…the day I had first experimented cooking and burnt the dish…the day I got my first oven….the numerous lazy afternoons when I just lazily lied down on the floor and watched TV…the pigeons which everyday in the morning dance on the balcony shade and disturbed our sweet slumber….the running and urgency to fill drums of water when there was a water shortage…the dreams that I made imagining how I would paint the walls and what kind of pictures will go where and how would you look all decorated….our search for the right curtains…our fight over our first frigde….our parents visit and our excitement for they being our first guests and our effort in making them feel at home….our first Diwali in which our little home looked breathtaking with all the diyas…and above everything our first venture to start and manage a home together all on our own…

Shifting into a rented flat closer to office makes me feel that I am leaving so much behind…makes me feel weird and become possessive when I think that our little home is going to be lived in by some other people whom we will rent the flat to…I don’t know if my little home will feel the same again if other people stay in it…Will they take enough care of our home…

I wonder how people sell off their houses or rather their homes…its so painful just to leave ur home behind not knowing when u can shift back to it and go to some other rented apartment….I hope I can build new memories in the new apartment as well…but I know it will not be the same….adieu my little home…we will miss you….you will always be our special little home…

Wish I was a Kid Again...

I remember that when I was a kid on the first day of school I used to love it when it turned out that that year a new uniform had to be stitched for me as the old uniform had become too old and shabby… and because my feet always happened to grow faster than me so every yr new shoes were almost a compulsion…I used to bask in glory and happiness and was all smiles thinking that everything would be new…new class, new uniform, new shoes, new set of books and if the school bag somehow also happened to be new then nothing like it…newness of things excited me so much as a kid…I even used to love transfers and shifting…when my father would be posted in a new place I would jump with joy thinking that there would be a new place to live in and a brand new set of friends and a new school too…And I always wondered why do my parents love their old home more than the new home and always keep talking about it…

Years later today even without my asking for it…it looks like all of a sudden I am going to step into a phase where everything is going to be new…new city, new apartment, new job, new colleagues, new field of work….and this time the things that are going to be new are much bigger in nature and in meaning. I am excited yes, but I also feel lost at the same time. There is enthusiasm and at the same time a certain amount of fear that will things go well or will I succumb to everything…I sometimes yearn for my old job in the city where I had lived for years and to get back to the comfort of my parents place…how come the same newness which used to overwhelm me as a kid is making me develop these inhibitions and apprehensions…..May be its easy when you start afresh…when you have no memories of your old job where you know how your first year had been…how long it had taken to establish your credibility…how you had not known to tackle a bad manager…may be its not…may be its easy now because you know how to tackle things and you have had the experience…but all said and done its again a start…a completely new start….it would take time again to settle down…again the same feeling of unsettlement would be there initially…again the strange feeling of walking down an unkown street to an unkown area and an office… amidst all strangers…the same jitters…the same nervousness….the same anxiety…

How I wish I was a kid again….oblivious…accepting all the newness in its entirety…blissfully ignorant of the fear and inhibitions and innocently taking in everything that’s new …with all smiles…making a mirage of imaginations..

A Morning in the Valleys !!

Long time since I have blogged…Last few weeks have been so eventful that I haven’t had time to even think of the content for posting..And as the snap suggests this is what I had been doing....I should say I had been on a traveling spree…

Visited places like Shimla, Kullu, Manali, Chandigarh, Delhi, Mathura, Agra, Fatehpur Sikri….in a shot span of time covering so many places was a real good experience. It gave the feel and understanding of the differences in people’s culture, living and lifestyle in these places which probably I cudn’t have experienced had I visited one place at a time…I had never seen snow till date…hence Rohtang Pass was an enchanting experience…to see white snow all around you…sea of snow everywhere as far as your eyes can take you…it was mesmerizing…although I wasn't able to breathe for a while as the cold overtook me the sight was still overwhelming...and from the softness of the snow and the sub zero degrees cold we traveled towards Agra…scorching heat..50 degrees centigrade…but then Taj Mahal has its own charm…its not the first time that I visited Taj Mahal..but I was still as captivated by the monument as I was the very first time I had seen it…It has an aura about it that just captures you without fail…for that matter all these architectures i.e Fatehpur Sikri, Sikandara etc…you feel so different when you walk on the ground on which you know years and years ago kings and queens used to walk on them…you wonder how the place must be then in all its finery and glow…something that you have heard of as stories from your grandparents as a kid and had dreamt about…about kings and queens and ministers and their kingdoms palaces power and richness…and you are there touching it feeling it in your hands…imagining the stories in their true form for a while..

The other thing that strikes you is the differences in the nature of people.I think the whole of Himachal Pradesh is a different world in itself…Shimla being the capital feels so serene and calm which is far far away from the hustle bustle of the metros we live in….people in Shimla seem to be living a very beautiful life enjoying every day living each and every moment…you can see people sitting leisurely on the footway sipping tea and coffee in the early hours of morning…as soon as darkness sets in people call it a day and are seen having a stroll on the Mall road enjoying the cold breeze of the eve…there is no hurry... no tension in their eyes...just calmness and serenity all around...stark difference from the way people’s orientation towards life in a Metro is …Its really amazing how just a few hrs away from a metro people lead such a peaceful life and here in the metro people are so different….softness of people in the valleys seem to be engulfed by the harshness of the fast pace of life in Metro forcing them to develop a hard exterior…but then it would be wrong to compare the happiness of both of them as both are happy in their own cities…even the person in the valley is happy away from the fast pace of life in the metro and the person in the metro is happy being away from the slow moving calm life of the valleys…. although both might seem complaining about their lives at times....

And that makes me think…now that I am in Mumbai another metro….. when I look at the innumerous teeming lights from the balcony of my flat and the sky high buildings..and the people rushing through the crowd to catch the local to their homes…I wonder if I can fight through the crowd and make a place for myself here… …will Mumbai accomodate me and become my home ……

Adieu!

When we were in engineering and it was the last day on campus we had cried hugging each of our friends....we were too young then not to mind to be called a sissy

Now, when it is the last day of post graduation (MBA) we are too old to cry or be sentimental and be a sissy and too young to realize that this is the end of a phase which will never repeat again and these are the faces who you never might cross paths with again and there is something that we might miss tomm....only if we get old enough to realize...

The Last Mile

With just a couple of days more on campus and with end terms already hovering on our heads for the last term we the batch of 2010 are all set to cross the last mile together...just like we had first set our foot together two years back and sailed in the same boat all these days long...

It was a learning phase nevertheless.....just like every institute is...Past two years have definitely been eventful for all of us..And ofcourse I will always be thankful to this institute for helping me achieve the objective for which I had come here for...

I remember the day I had first stepped in...the newness and the strangeness of the place had been overpowering....even the sight of the stranger who had taken the group discussion with me during the interview process provided reassurance of someone known....

I remember how I had wandered into the class and sat coyly at a place with strange faces all around me filled with enthusiasm and our HR professor had walked into the class announcing marks for class participation.....which was like setting fire to a bunch of fireworks.... heart pounding mine was also one of the hands up desperate to contribute to the class...

I remember the day the first quiz was announced to be held and a batch mail was circulated with at most enthusiasm wishing all the very best to the entire batch by the students....And after three years of work I was sitting infront of my laptop ....my hand shivering to press the Go button to start the quiz....the Adrenaline rush, the fear, the excitement...

The seniors presentations in the nights which was compulsory to attend and the next day morning class where we would support each other so that the professors don’t catch us sleeping....the night outs in game committees ....the first JLT...when we were attending these it seemed that acads were in one end of the spectrum and these belonged to the other end...we would listen to the tunes of the songs playing in the JLT and bask in the glory of freedom from acads even if it was temporary...

The rehearsals we did as a group for our very first presentation in communication...with our hearts in our mouth to face a group of 60 as audience...and the support we gave each other in terms of Q&A session after the presentations....and how we have progressed to a stage where we make presentations in the class in those 5 min time when the other group is presenting and royally present it even to a panel of profs with umpteen confidence...

The very first grades which hit us all with one blow...the worry...the anxiety which has all faded with the years as we learnt to grow out of them...and laugh at glory and debacle alike accepting various things both good and bad and taking them in our stride as we went along.....

The wrath of the profs which we all together took with silent empathy for each other. The bitching sessions about anything and everything related to anyone and everyone.

Maxinations....Expressions....someone has rightly named the festival...in togetherness do we express our enthusiasm and spirit through a festival for which we didn’t mind to toil for nights together just to make it a success....and the admiration in all our eyes as each of our batchmates performed with flying colors...applauding for each and everyone...

The b’day celebrations...where the whole batch has fun at your expense and you enjoy to see them all laugh at your expense..

The silent prayers for one and all for placements...

I am not sure if I can term it Nostalgia as we count the final days to our footsteps taking us outside the campus...but I am sure there will be innumerable days when we will be sitting with a smile spread on our faces remembering the PJs of our friends and batchmates idiosyncrasies here...telling the tales of the profs and classes that we took each being an experience in itself...I only hope that just similar to the way we had all given a silent support to each other during the senior ragging sessions and class ragging sessions by the profs which were our first stepping stones...which we had probably misunderstood then and which now we understand was a way by which they made us think not as an individual but as a batch and brought us closer making us think for each other...just like that in the days to come I hope we still will silently support each other when the corporate world out there waits to rag us...with this note I bid adieu to the batch of 2010...

Surreal or Real?

I think everybody in this world lives in two different worlds...one being real with stark practicality of day to day life, where your weaknesses have no place, where everyone is struggling to make a place, where you just get up and run to keep pace with the fast moving reality, where expectations are not alive, where you are alone, you are an individual all by yourself ...left alone to face it all whether things be in your favour or not....in short its the world where dreams end and reality begins and hits in your face and you have no say..you got to take it and keep walking...

And at the exact opposite end lies the other world...its surreal...but it exists as much as your real practical world...this is the world that everyone loves because they can see their hopes alive..which are so alive that they seem to hold your hand and lead you to the path where you see your expectations smiling down at you and encouraging you to dream...soar high in your dreams...paint that surreal world which has all the colors...bright and sparkling...without a speck of dullness...And how much you love to be lost in this surreal world of yours...This is the world where you define yourself..where there is time and place for love, closeness, family, friends...there is leisure...your imaginations are free to soar...

And there is a line separating the two worlds....a thin line it is...as its very often that when you realize the reality is way different and claims to be so practical that you slip into your surreal world to take solace to console yourself saying that what if the reality is so...what if I am not allowed to expect in there...what if my dreams don’t have a place there....I can still dream and expect in my surreal world and derive fulfilment from it...And you probably still expect and still dream...and again hope...hope that this time it is the other way round and this time atleast one of the dreams from the surreal world just slides into the real world and leaves you in awe....

Afterall the mind knows no bounds...the heart has no boundaries...they still hope for that day when the surreal world is your real world...they still expect their dreams to lead them by the hand to the apex of their imaginations and each time they are proved wrong they just wonder why is that we even expect .....aren’t the two worlds in completely different planes....surreal is still surreal and real is afterall real...stark but still real...but what the heart doesn’t although the mind understands is...how to draw the line between them...how to keep them separate...how to let them be...And the larger question would be...what is it right now?...Surreal or Real?

She...

Three years old she is...playing innocently across the hallway in her mother’s lap...while her mother is trying to comb her hair into a pretty little plait...arranging her curly hair across the forehead...making her look like a doll....the innocence in her baby smile and the eagerness with which her big eyes are absorbing her mother’s words when she says...one day my little angel will be a big girl ...she would study hard and earn a lot of name and show everyone that she is no less...and everyone around will say that’s my angel...

Little does the little angel know...that she is going to tread a tough path ahead...her mother weaves in her her aspirations and ambitions so that her angel is no less than a guy tomorrow...and so does the innocent eyes of the little girl believe....As time flies she will be gifted dolls and will be taught to dream...dream of all that she wanted to do and was not allowed to as it was not lady like...and so her ability to soar high in her dreamland will begin... she ceases to exist in reality and her advent to the surreal world that she weaves takes an initiation...The trophies that she bags will be treasured by her mom more than anyone else....She will see the spark of her ambition in her mother’s eyes which she would like to fulfil...Her little innocent eyes which had naively taken her mother’s words for granted then...realization will dawn when she will know it was just another fairy tale...

Beauty being her identification in the society...homeliness being her appeal...house hold responsibility being her inevitable responsibility...earning her morsel a necessity...Her ambitions can be compromised with...judging her would be a legacy ....and her complaints not understood........ Numerous such expectations would unfold infront of her which will leave her to shun her innocence and grab the garb of a lady....toughness being her soul and patience her weapon...tears being the gift of God to vent out her emotions...and endurance her strength. Equipped with all these she would stand to face the vast waves of the ocean all alone....

Her mother’s moist eyes will dream of her little angel in a bridal dress painting the canvass of her life with beautiful colors....hoping against hope that her little angel is not standing alone to face the waves and has a supporting hand and a shoulder to lean on when she is gone....And she will gift her the garb of a woman....when her little angel is old enough and ready to take a leap ahead ....to be a woman from being the lady she was....A subtle change bringing a world of unexplainable transformation in her life...Here her mother will learn that her role is over and now her little angel is left on her own to discover the woman in her and endure it , comprehend it, understand it and love it for no one else would or no else can except she herself...

For she will shudder and wouldn’t want to submit to being a woman she would want to be her mother’s little angel again believing innocently to her mother’s words...oblivious of the future she has to face.... oblivious to the fact that she is being moulded to be a woman someday.... Yet, a time will come when she will wait...she will wait for an identity of her own...she will wait for her own little angel in whom she can see her reflection...her self...and that day she would truely comprehend the mysticism and divinity of her existence...she would be liberated , she would be happy....she would realize and she would be thankful that she is a girl...a lady...a woman...and her little angel will also grow to be one some day.

House to Home….

No, this post isn’t about lamenting about being far from parents…missing home…or anything of that sort…its about my home…yeah today it feels so very special that I thot let me post about it…

Since morning I have been busy cleaning the house…didn’t take a shower…didn’t have food….just wanted to first make my house a home first and only then do other things…strangely I didn’t even feel filthy cleaning the house…Its true when people say what a guy would term as clean a girl will never do so till she sees it spotlessly clean. And as Murphy’s law goes my maid turned up after I cleaned the entire house thinking that she wouldn’t come and she said…Bhabie aap aa gayi…ab ja ke ghar saaf lag raha hai…par aap ek hi din mein pura ghar kyun saaf kar rahe ho…bhaiyya ko toh pata bhi nahi chalega…aap thoda araam se karo na…I just smiled and closed the door…and finally now when I look all around me I just feel like taking it all in cherishing the feeling of being in my home. My mother too always used to tell me …housewives keep working all day long and at the end of the day when they go to sleep their work never has value…rather no one values their work…but today when I look at my home…sparkling clean…each and every corner cleaned by me…I feel the value of putting in 8 hours of labour…how does it matter if anyone values my work or not…the value of looking at my shining little home is just overwhelming and priceless…

I wonder how people sell off their houses and go for new houses...how come they don't develop any attachments with the place they first started their lives in...together making it into a home an abode where they celebrated and took the first step of their life together...May be the attachment wears off over time...probably a bigger house occupies enough space in the dreams to have no place left for the old memories attached to thier very first home...

Year 2010....

So here comes 2010.... The beginning of another year...the advent of a new beginning, new hopes, new wishes...Its always so nice to welcome the start of a new year...to see people rejoicing all around you...

On the eve of every new year I always get reminded of the year that has passed...and where I was the last time I celebrated new year with others...as it happens last year I happened to be at my parents place and was stuck up with some stupid assignment with some course and didn’t know what to do as I was not on campus...so I just didn’t realize when last year had started and how time flew...but today when I sit to gather my thots I am just realizing it was just two yrs back when I was celebrating the start of the year 2008 and the year before that had passed in lot of personal ups and downs...little did I know what the year 2008 and the next year had in store for me...and when I had wished that hope this year goes well probably God just took of time to listen to my wishes...

Year 2008 had marked a new beginning in my life....as I happened to meet my husband that year and pursue my dream of doing higher studies that year and year 2009 happened just follow 2008 fulfilling my professional ambitions and today when I welcome the year 2010 I again know it will be the start of my new life...it will be a year full of promises...which will bring in togetherness, new responsibilities, Start of my new home,love, sharing and a little bit of adjustment, start of a new career , new friends and a new work life. Its going to be another remarkable year...

With all the happiness and eagerness that I look forward to for the year 2010...I also have this stint of a feeling that the count of the number of years that I am not going to be with my parents is only going to increase from now on...its like the phase in which I was learning to fly with the help of my parents is over now and I am all set to fly...just like the younger birds have to leave the comfort of their parents nests once their parents teach them how to fly only taking their blessings along to face the world alone...

Hoping that year 2010 marks a new beginning bidding adieu to 2009 for everyone and is as prosperous as the celebrations that are welcoming the year ahead...Wishing one and all a very Happy New Year 2010...

God Sent....

He was just a few hrs old when I first got to look at him...I saw him and I thot gosh if I put my two palms together he can just fit into them...so tiny he was...

Ever since then whenever I look at him or hear him speak those big philosophical statements or making those big career decisions I picturize that tiny little tod whom I used to forcibly get into that one piece head to toe fit and decorate him like a doll stealthily when my mother took off for a bath or left him unattended for a while and was spanked hard for doing that geopardizing breaking his neck...but the amazing thing was that he would just keep looking at me with those big innocent baby eyes while I was forcing him into the outfit and never even utter a sound of pain or discomfort...that was my little brother...he has always been that little for me ever since...

He would just crawl to me when I got back from school in class two and get back to home being carried by me...I would secretly get lollipop for him when he was allowed to have only baby food and make him lick it..... and he would lick it with a world of eagerness as if it was a drop of heaven that I got for him...

He was warned that he can’t come near me because I had chicken pox when he was one and half yrs old and when my parents were not looking he would come and stand near the door looking at me scared...wishing with those innocent eyes again that I get well soon...and run away as soon as he would see anyone coming and when he was scolded he would explain in his broken baby talk that chicken pox cudn’t jump over him as he ran away in time...

The way we used to fight and drive my mother crazy...

The day when my father came home and told me my Intermediate Board results and that I would be securing a seat in BITS and inspite of having a physical broom stick weaponed fight...which broke the broom stick into two and let my mother bring down the roof on us...my little brother who had vowed never to see my face again in his entire life..just heard my father announce the results and came and sat quietly beside me tugging at my arm...again his innocent eyes looking at me and earnestly hearing my father say and understand that I will have to leave home for 4 years...

I would truble him tease him and eat his part of the goodies and when he would cry and I get spanked and beaten up for the mischief...he would look at me through tears ...wipe his tears away and tell my father...its ok papa she will not do it again...

The scared look in his eyes when he would be watching Harry Porter at night with me instead of preparing for IIT and hear a sound imagining that my father or mother will come out to drink water and catch hold of him...

The irritated look that he gave me when I uttered something stupid or irritated him...the give up look he would give me when it came to my GK....and the supporting look that he would always give when I gave it up and said I can’t do it...

And the day when he took the thali for welcoming his sister’s bridegroom home...my little brother again...the look in his eyes bidding me goodbye after the wedding....

My brother 6 yrs younger to me....has always been and will always be that same little innocent toddler for me...yet just yesterday he told me just these four words “ Di, you make me proud”...I don’t know what made him say that....probably because this time I wasn’t near to look into his eyes....but it just overwhelmed me and I wondered ....my little brother ...just like I look down at him as the same little tiny person who could fit in my palms...his eyes have always looked up at me...right from the first time he called me by my name as a kid before he uttered mama or papa...And what can I say except that its true when people say siblings are just another way of God telling you that they are always there with you as your reflection....

Gratitude.....

Two incidents come to my mind today as I sit posting on this blog :

Incident 1 :

School admission for class 8^th. The principal of the school telling my father ...”Oh no sir you don’t realize she has no city school experience...she doesn’t know English also properly...and we have seats available only for Sanskrit second language....which she has never taken earlier...she will fail in 8^th as well as Xth board”...

And the my father answering “ I assure you sir she will manage and she will manage it well”...

And I managed to score 100% in Xth Board exam in Sanskrit and Two Gold Medals in Xth Board

Incident 2:

MBA admission. My father requesting Dean to postpone my joining by few days as the day of my wedding and joining were on the same day. The dean’s response to my father’s request “...You don’t realize sir....your daughter will face a very tough curriculum here...will she be able to manage MBA with marriage at a time...that too joining late”.

My Father’s response again “ I assure you sir she will manage and she will manage it well”...

And I managed again this time....but the credit does not go to me but to that one person who forms my world...My Husband...

And next to God for correcting this one wrong decision of mine by blessing me with my dream job in Finance in the same city as my Husband inspite of that being the only company on campus offering the location where my husband is posted.

A Yearning....

Today all of a sudden I don’t know why I am remembering home so much. Its been two years since I left home. Two years since I had been so paranoid to get thru MBA in someplace. Now I wonder, did I ever realize it then what would it mean. Did I think at that time that it would mean I have to spend two years away from all the luxury of home cooked food and comfort of my mom when I was down, comfort of my sleeping lazily in my room where everyone was so hell bent on me getting up and having food on time, when I would come back from office and my mom would open the door worried asking me what kept me so late...and complain about how can corporate job be so taxing, where me and my brother would browse thru all the tv channels and comment over every silly thing we come across breaking down to peals of laughter, bugging my father to take us for dinner in expensive restaurants whenever his salary for the month is credited, gazing at electronic items with my father and brother in different stores till mom screamed with irritation, escaping out just when the slightest hint of some errand at home is going to befall on u, ordering mom to cook ur favourite dish and hogging over it, complaining abt anything and everything in the world to your parents and knowing that you will get full support from them no matter what or who is wrong, venting out ur irritation on the first person u find and getting a thwacking which later is dissolved with some good bribery...the list is just endless.

I am wondering how people who have gone abroad for work or studies manage. Don’t they have such moments of emotional yearning to just leave behind everything and go home. Home the word itself sounds so soothing to ears. I remember I always used to mock at my mother for missing her home which she has left since about 28 years since the time she got married and moved with my father . I always used to say she is being irrational when she calls grandpa’s house as her house whereas her house is this. Now, I think may be 30 yrs from now I will still be feeling the same yearning that I am feeling rt now...Afterall home is home the sweetest place in the world, the place which keeps all your childhood memories with it, the place which is always there with open arms inviting you making you yearn to just go there and embrace it, the place which you eventually one day have to leave but which always lives with you wherever you go...I just wish I was at home now.