Searching self

Sometimes

2010-03-07T08:42:00.000+03:00

Sometimes just a word
Brings a smile
Sometimes just a word
Brings tears

Sometimes just a word
builds courage
Sometimes just a word
brings fear

Sometimes just a word
encourages you
Sometimes just a word
demoralises you

Sometimes just a word
fills you with love
Sometimes just a word
Makes you hate yourself

Sometimes just a word...............

Viewpoints

2010-03-03T17:22:00.002+03:00

Anuj- Anuj sat in a foul mood. He and his father had had an argument early in the morning which had left both of them in a rotten mood.

He was starting his Tenth Board exams the next day and the first paper was Maths, a subject which he loathed. It was such a pleasant morning that he wanted to go out and sing. But his father was always after him to do well in studies especially maths because it was scoring. And said that music was alright as a hobby but not as a career.

But being an engineer would maybe earn him money but not satisfacion, but would his father understand that?

Mr. Mishra- Mr. Mishra understood what Anuj was going through. In his youth he too loved to write, he had even joined a weekly but the pay was so pathetic that he was not able to support his family. And so he had become a salesman and had remained so for the last 20 years. Oh why couldn't Anuj understand that music was good as a hobby and unless you were a Pandit Jasraj, it couldn't support you financially?

Mrs. Mishra- Mrs. Mishra was torn between father and son. She understood what her husband was saying and she understood what her son was going through but how could she make each understand the others viewpoint but most important what was the best way through?

Anushka- She was the youngest and still 2 years away from the Big menace-10th board.

She wanted to be an IITian and had already made plans to reach THERE. But mom and dad were always behind bhaiya because he was a SON. Let him do what he wants, I will be an IITian and look after them in their old age and if need be she would look after bhaiya too. What was the fuss all about; let him follow his dreams.

And then came Holi

2010-02-26T15:45:00.001+03:00

Aruna gave final touches to her rava ladoos.

Growing up in Karkala, Karnataka, Holi didn’t have much significance, but marriage and then coming to this township, it had. So apart from Gudi Padva, Rakshabandhan , Dussehra, Deepavali, Holi too had an important place in her festival list now. So here she was now preparing sweets and snacks for Holi but with a heavy heart.

Newly wed, the township had welcomed her warmly and made her their own. Including Gurinder Bhalla. Both their husbands were posted at the Sinter Plant. Being of the same age and temparement they had clicked instantly. And had gone through pregnancy and child birth simultaneously. Gurinder initiated her into Punjabi cuisine and Aruna into Konkani and so on.

But because of some misunderstanding or idle gossip, Gurninder had not been talking to her for the past 2 years and that hurt; hurt badly.

She knew that on Holi you could dissolve all differences but 2 years back Gurinder’s brother who was in the Navy was transferred to the Eastern Naval Command and she would go off to celebrate Holi with her brother.

‘But the point is was our friendship based on such shallow foundation that someone’s gossip could break it? If she was hurt by some remark of mine, she could have told me on my face rather than hibernating’,thought Aruna.

Evening was Holika Dahan and although she saw Gurinder, by the time she edged towards her, she had already left.

Holi dawned and everyone played to their hearts content, while the ladies backed off by 11 am and returned to their respective homes, men and kids kept on playing till there was call for lunch. Lunch on Holi day was a ‘cluster affair’ where each family would bring their specialties at Mrs. Bannerjees Garden, her garden being the largest as it was the corner one. So while Mrs Bannerjee brought her rasgulla and luchis, Santosh her Daal Baati, Aruna her rava ladoos and appes ( a mini idli made in aebleskiver pan) and so on. Gurinder used to prepare Choley bature.

Aruna was busy making chutney when the bell rang. Thinking it must be some kid, she opened the door to find Gurinder with her platter of colors. Aruna was shell shocked and stood agape, when Gurinder asked ‘Tilak laga doon’ (Can I put a dot on the forehead) Aruna numbed in joy could only nod her assent. And then Gurinder said ‘Ladoo nahi khilayegi?’ (won’t you give me ladoos?).
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HAPPY HOLI FOLKS!!

Finally

2010-02-23T09:46:00.000+03:00

Some questions do bother me; why some people get everything that they want while some do not; why some mediocre people taste success and some very efficient ones are failures; why some people seem to get the most simplest joys after a lot of struggle.

There can be a lot of deliberations on these, you might say hard work, organized effort, resourcing etc but I wanted answers on a ‘higher’ level. Reason being that whenever something untoward happens I am told that sometimes its our past actions returning to us (poorva janma phala). Which used to leave me quite bitter.

Recently when I had been to the library, a book caught my attention. Why? Because the cover introduced the author as the first lady of the Psychic world. The book was her biography-Herald of the new age, and I was game to read it.

To give a brief idea about the author-Ruth Montgomery was a journalist who made contact with the other world. And these-guides have helped her in opening some truths- about reincarnations, walk-ins and yes how our actions return back to us.

Now you may or may not believe that we can make contact with souls/ spirits. I do. Many times my ancestors have visited me in my dreams. A Non-believer may say those are not dreams but just an over active mind. I said so too until once when both me and my sister had the same dream, the same night with the same message, that removed all my doubts.

Whenever I am going through a bad phase and especially while lying on the hospital bed, have felt a very strong presence near me which used to scare me initially.

Returning back to the book, it does say that whatever we go through is linked to our actions in the previous birth. It also says that we do have ‘guardian angels’, which just means that my feeling of strong presences’ is not hypothetical.

I am a Virgoan and also a Finance person, which means that I need reasons for everything and until I do get it I don’t have any peace. So now that I know that whatever I am suffering or have suffered is because of some actions of mine, it doesn’t make me depressed in fact it makes me calm.

And am happy because I know that someone somewhere is looking out for me. Life is not bad, not bad at all.

And then she knew....

2010-02-20T09:17:00.000+03:00

Ritu inspected her garden; the garden of hers had been a journey of patience. The whole area around their house had been rocky and the entire place had to be dug up thrice and the stones removed, manure and soil put and had then been ready for ‘cultivation’. The front side had been used for carpet grass and ornamental plants i.e flowering plants, crotons. And the backside was a kitchen garden.

But it was the front garden which was her pride (the kitchen garden was looked after by her mother in-law). All types of crotons existed there. And also flower shrubs, roses in different colors, hibiscus, seasonal flowers etc. On any day her garden would look like a rainbow, vibrant colors, pleasing to the eye.

But there was a problem. As soon as she planted a sapling and it started to bloom or flower, if the plant/shrub was small it would be stolen. So was the case in the whole neighborhood. They informed the Home Guards but were told that they were more in the lookout for burglars, car thieves etc and not these petty crimes which were probably someones prank anyways. So the ladies in their area that is of Cluster 135 Sector 1 decided that they would be always on the watch not only of theirs but also the whole cluster’s gardens. Whenever one of them was going out, they would tell atleast one of the others because usually these thefts occurred when the family was out.

Today ‘Paa’ was being screened at the multipurpose hall of the Officers Club and the whole family was going out to watch it and Ritu was worried. Her yellow-red dual colored hibiscus had two beautiful flowers and her instinct told that it would be stolen. So she locked the garden gates, informed Archana her immediate neighbor and Swati who lived upstairs, sent a silent prayer and left for the movie.

Night they were late in returning so she could only inspect her garden in the morning and lo, her instincts had been right, the shrub had been stolen.

Both Swati and Archana confirmed that they had not heard any sounds.

This left Ritu very morose. She lost interest in gardening, socializing, generally in life.

Couple of days later her husband came with some chemical in a bottle and started telling of its qualities. Ritu was never interested in chemistry and so said, ‘Cut it short, tell me why you have brought it home.’

‘My dear its sort of a dye, if you apply it to your treasured plants and when they are watered the water and sunrays create a sort of fluorescent light.’

‘So?’

‘So if our plants are stolen by any of out neighbors and if you see any plant gleaming you will know……’

‘Enough! how can you even think that any of our neighbors can steal,’ she was indignant.

‘Someone has isn’t it? Why don’t you apply this dye and…….’

‘No I won’t’.

‘Okay then I will and let’s see.’

Two days later they all went for some shopping and again that day one red rose plant was stolen. And Ritu shed silent tears.

The ladies of her cluster had a monthly kitty party in one of the houses. That month it was Archanas turn, after the food and the games were over, the party moved to the garden as the weather was just right to idle out in the open. Archana thought of watering her garden while chatting with them.

The weather was good, sunshine mild and because the garden was being watered there was this mild wet smell of soil. Ritu’s moroseness flitted away and she relaxed when something gleaming caught her eye…….it was her red rose plant.

If looks could kill, Archana would have turned to ashes then and there.

For All those................

2010-02-17T08:59:00.000+03:00

For all those who went with me through my life my journey,

For all those who introspected with me,

For all those who heard me rant through my random thoughts,

Who gave Jeet to Pakhi and her world,

For all those who believed in the make believe world of Animal farm

And who read about life’s Neethi

For all those who suffered my Kavitas

And went with me on a virtual tour to Bahrain and Ukkunagaram

For all those who analyzed people in different situations with me

FOR ALL THOSE…………

A big THANK YOU going out on my 100th post

Thank you for enduring me and giving me a new meaning to life

Faith

2010-02-13T16:45:00.002+03:00

Ram Sharan came out of the temple premises licking his lips. He practically lived for these Fridays when he could have dinner at the temple otherwise the food at his labor camp was …ugh, he couldn’t find a proper word. For that itself he was paying 20 Dinar a month.

He was all of 21 yrs of age and he had been in Bahrain as a construction company laborer for already 2 years. Earning Bahraini Dinar (BD) 90 a month, BD 20 was a princely amount for him. Out of that each month he managed to send home BD 50, BD 10 he always kept for emergencies and BD 10 he invested in a ‘chit’.

The Krishna Temple in Manama will usually have some sponsor for the Friday ‘prasad’. For many laborers this is the only good meal that they have in a week. And so the temple premises as well as the Joofri galli where this temple is located will be crowded. And so on this day the beginning of February when the winter has not quite ended, Ram Sharan is sweating and he takes out his handkerchief to wipe his brow.

From there he proceeds to Zenj Exchange to make a Demand Draft and send it to India but whats this. His purse is missing. He squats down there itself in a daze. Pickpockets were rare here. Still he had taken precautions. Instead of the back pocket he had kept it in his front, who could have taken it from there and what will he do now? How will his mother manage? His brother’s exam fees had to be paid. Before the monsoon the roof of their house had to be repaired. What will happen now.

He sat there for a long time until one of the employees of the exchange enquired and then gave him some fils (coins) so that he could go back to his camp in the bus.

Next day he was still morose, he didn’t know how to manage without money for a month and worse still how his mother would manage. During the mid morning break he got a message that his sponsor ( the one who provides visa) was waiting for him outside.

‘Ram Sarran, tum kall kidhar gaya?’(Where did you go yesterday) asked Mr. Saleh his sponsor

‘Manama gaya sahib(went tp Manama)', said He.

‘Tumhara purse gir gaya nahi.(your purse fell isn’t it?) one person found it and seeing your CPR found my address, came and gave it. I rewarded him with 1 BD taken from your purse’, said Mr. Saleh and left.

Ram Sharan was shocked. Hi s purse must have fallen when he had taken out this handkerchief. But to locate his address from the CPR and then return the purse was very noble.

He had lost faith when his purse was lost but the Zenj employee who had given him bus fare and the man who had returned the purse, both had restored his faith or had Lord Krishna taken care?

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A Central Population Register (CPR) Card is a sort of Identification Card which has details of each person including his photograph, Passport number and the name and address of the Sponsor/Visa provider in case the person is an expat. The smart card which has recently replaced the CPR, also has a chip which records everything. This card has to be with the owner at all times and is required for everything right from taking a loan, or for getting treatment in a hospital/clinic.

Fate?

2010-02-10T18:16:00.000+03:00

Manya felt useless. Why? Because she felt she had nothing. Whole adolescence had been spent awing at other girls who had it all, the best clothes, the best education, whatever that money could buy. She had been born into a lower middle class family and had remained so throughout her 35 yrs of life.

She had tried to get a seat in an engineering college, but couldn’t. Call it fate/karma whatever, but although she had tried hard she couldn’t get a seat in any college. A payment seat was out of the question, instead of doing B.Sc she thought it better to do Bcom. Attempted CA but after clearing Inter and failing Finals twice decided to chuck it and got married to Atul, a BCom graduate working for a Marwari business. A good man, good family. And she settled down to a life akin to the one she had grown up in.

When she had borne Amit, she had vowed that he would get the best. And so when he started school, she started taking tuitions. There were conservative families who didn’t allow their daughters outside for tuitions, and to these girls she tutored and was paid well.

She had insisted on putting Amit to one of the best schools of the city even though they could ill afford it. While the education was good, the calls for ‘fees’ were many. Sometimes craft, sometimes value education, sometimes dramatics apart from the regular fees.

Amit was a sweet child, ever understanding but she felt bad when she saw his classmates wearing smart uniforms arriving in BIG cars. She knew some ridiculed Amit for coming to school on a bicycle and his old school bag. But it was difficult as such to pay for his fees so that all other needs took back seat.

Recently she had been to pick up Amit from one of his classmates birthday party and my God what an extravagant affair that was.

And now it was his birthday, his 10th in fact and she wanted it to be special. She had been scrimping for it and had managed to save a bit. She was inviting just 10 of his classmates but they would have a good time. She was taking them to an amusement park and later for a special meal.

All these things were going in her mind when she was going to Juhi’s house. Juhi a Kutchi Gujju girl; loaded family, where she was treated like royalty, but what was this, the lift was not working; which meant she had to climb up four flight of stairs and she was already late.

And so she began the ascent. The staircase looked dark as she had come inside from blazing sunshine and so she didn’t notice that the tiled step had some liquid, stepped on it and fell.

Manya’s right leg had a fracture. And though the medical bills were covered by insurance, her savings had to be used for the time she was inactive.

Call it fate, luck or karma, Manya’s dream of having a gala time on her son’s 10th birthday was also unfulfilled.

For my Dear Friend.........

2010-02-09T09:13:00.000+03:00

The Aroma of flowers
Then a bit of Adulation
Some bright Rays of sunshine
And a little Angst
Add a bit of Thyme
A Hint of Jazz
An Inch of Ginger
All this and more
make my dear friend

Heres wishing you a Very Happy Birthday!!

Awakening

2010-02-06T18:36:00.001+03:00

Trupti sat with a vacant look in her eyes, reliving the days gone by, of courtship, marriage and her days with Akshay. That was her daily routine. Doing her normal chores, feeding the baby when either Savi or Sasuma brought her and reminiscing. That was the only thing left in her life now.

How happy they were, they were just made for each other. And how happy they were when they had discovered that she was pregnant. She remembered everything in detail, how they used to go on long bike rides, watching movies on Fridays. The intimate talks. Everything gone, on a single day, the day the firings happened on 26/11. Akshay was hurt by a bullet and later expired and she went on premature labor. And ‘she ‘had been born. ‘She’ had been named Akshata as a tribute to Akshay. But she didn’t feel any connectivity to her, no motherliness. In fact she grudged her, she had to live, to feed her at least. Otherwise she would have gladly let go of her breath.

Since her delivery it was her Sasuma and her sister in law Savi who had nurtured ‘her’. And why wouldn’t they, ‘it’ was their blood after all.

And so she sat pitying herself. She had lost her appetite as also the vigor to live. Her parents, her in-laws all had tried to drive some sense into her but to no avail. For Trupti her loss was ultimate and nothing else seemed important.

Today Savi had a bad stomach pain and Sasuma had taken her to the Doctor. She was alone with the baby. The Baby now 5 months old, was quite active. She was already turning around and moving on her tummy. Sasuma had bathed her and had left her sleeping in the cradle and had asked Trupti to keep an eye on her as she might try to turn over in the cradle and may fall down .

And that’s what happened; the baby woke up, gurgled, saw that no one was about and tried to get down by herself. Trupti lost in her world didn’t notice at first but when there was a movement; by instinct she moved near the cradle and before the baby could fall; she caught her. The baby was surprised, that was the first time Trupti had held her voluntarily, and to show her happiness, she held out her hand touched her cheek and said 'Aakooo....'. And that was it, something snapped inside Trupti.

God, how could she, she had lost her Akshay, how could she lose her daughter too. How selfish she could be, this tiny 'life' was her flesh, her blood, how could she neglect her, how could she ignore her, and then she held her tight and then it came, first unhurriedly then in a torrent; the tears came.

Savi got afraid to see Trupti crying and the baby crying along with her and rushed to her side but Sasuma stopped her. Experience had taught her that when words didn’t heal, tears could.

Chocoholic

2010-02-02T08:53:00.000+03:00

Mrs.Sharma came in with shopping bags in both of her hands and proceeded to stack things in their proper places. Then she looked around, made sure that nobody was around and took out her prized possession- chocolates and stacked them neatly at the deepest corner of the refrigerator, in such a way that none could see it. Nobody would see it anyways, because apart from her there was rarely anyone at home. Her husband was the General Manager of a Food processing company. He was the GM for the entire GCC except KSA(Kingdom of Saudi Arabia), which meant that he was mostly on tours. Son was away studying Engineering in the UK, daughter was with them but seldom at home. Either she was at college or at some mall or partying.

Which meant that most of the time Mrs. Sharma was alone. The thought of loneliness made her crave for some chocolate and she popped in a butter chocolate. Just a few years back she was so busy. Everyone needed her and her time. Her husband took her advice, kids wanted her help for their studies, she cooked, she dropped the kids to their classes and now, no one wanted her. She would be really surprised if anyone noticed her.

Yes, she was a member of the Indian Ladies association, the Angels Toastmasters but was it enough? Can anyone replace the love and completeness that a family provides? And in went a Ferrero.

And her neighb ours? Good people but all were Madrasis. For Mrs. Sharma anyone south of Maharashtra was a Madrasi. What can you speak to them with their rolling tongues? Oh yes she was cordial to them. But all they talked was about cooking and which spiritual class was going where and of bhajans. Was she that old to attend Gita classes and sing bhajans? And in went a Galaxy.

She loved to cook, to invent but who was there to eat. So whatever she cooked stood in the refrigerator for some days until it was passed on to the liftman, the cleaner or the maid. The skinny cleaner had developed quite a physique after he started work in their building. And her husband had started wondering why although none were at home the grocery bill was sky rocketing.

Loneliness…Mrs. Sharma reflected was such a painful feeling; all the while moving her hands lovingly on a Van Houten, was it a wonder then that she had become a chocoholic?

It happens

2010-01-25T18:29:00.001+03:00

Angad came out of the Indian School premises, mighty pleased, the cultural program, the science exhibition everything had been excellent. He turned around to see his wife Shefali lost in her thoughts and his sons, laughing at some joke. All in all a perfect day. But what was this, struck in the windshield wiper was a parking ticket for wrong parking. ‘Hey whats this, how come, where will anyone park when the parking lot is full, obviously on the roadside. Only Indians cars have been ticketed. The Arabs cars have been spared. Ten Dinars gone down the drain.’

‘Angad,’Shefali said, ‘what’s the use of complaining. The traffic police know that mostly Indians will be here so they took the liberty to fine.’

‘But why ?Where will we park if the lot is full?’

‘No use complaining, Angad, lets go home.’

Next day was their younger son’s birthday, Angad came home to find everyone ready, ‘Why, where are we going?’

‘Harsh wants to have Pizza at Pizza Hut,’ explained Shefali.

‘Pizza Hut, if I am not wrong A single Pizza there costs some Two and odd Dinars and….’

‘Angad,’ murmured Shefali, ‘its his birthday, he hasn’t asked for a party for his friends, just a pizza, please don’t create a scene.’

‘Ok, which Pizza Hut?’

‘Lets go to Manama one at the Gold City. You can park your car at the ground there. No fear of parking ticket.’

‘Hmm he said and they left.

After the meal Shefali looked around at the Gold City while Angad came behind her with a grumpy look and when she stopped to have a closer look at an emerald necklace, he burst out,’ I don’t have money to satisfy your whims.’

‘I am just having a look, did I say I need it?’, Shefali retorted.

The very next day, Angad came with a big Geant bag.

‘Whats this?’, Shefali asked.

‘There was a good offer, I got car vacuum, car wax, carburetor cleaner…………’, but before he could continue, Shefali cut in, ’How much?’

‘Uh, Twenty Dinars,’ he replied.

‘Oh I suppose my window shopping is more expensive than your shopping for car accessories?’ she asked with raised eyebrows while Angad smiled sheepishly.

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A Bahraini Dinar is approximately INR 120

Some jumbled thoughts

2010-01-23T16:47:00.000+03:00

I hear students committing suicides and I wonder whether we are raising a generation of cowards.

The next is whether societal, peer, family pressures are such that they have no other alternative than to end their lives.

I am a nobody to advise neither am I going to dissect why such things happen. Its such a biased world that its thought that only being a topper or being the best can bring success. Its not always true. Very often it’s the people who have fared poorly in school/ college who have had successful careers.

But then again success/ failure is subjective. For some success may be becoming CEO of some company, for others it may be a principled life even if it fails to bring in money.

Then I also see people who have achieved success in every step of their lives still when they face a single failure, fall into depression.

Which makes me wonder about the credibility of our education system?

Is education only about getting degrees? What about knowledge, integrity, understanding, etc.

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Yes parents too sometimes act like beasts, forcing their kids to accept their wishes, their ambitions. While I do agree that some kids do need a little push others do not. Again its subjective. Basically each child is special and is to be handled in a unique way.

I will cite my own example. I must have been in the fourth or fifth standard when I fared badly in the half yearly exam. The report card was given just before the Diwali vacations and I was miserable. My sorrow was more about having failed my parents than about getting bad marks. I had not told anybody that I had received my report card and was quite solemnly standing near the garden gate, when my father came and stood behind me

Papa: so you have got your report card?

Me: yes ( all the while looking the other way)

Papa: bad Marks?

Me: Yes

Papa: So what, its not the end of the world, there is always a next time.

We hug and it’s the end of a misery and beginning of a new dawn. That moment I realized a lot many things;

• Marks are not everything

• You always get another chance

• Whatever happens my parents will be always with me

• Its always good to be true to yourself. I could have lied or altered my report card but would not have got any peace

If he had handled the situation in any other way I doubt whether I would have been the person I am today. For a nine- ten year old the security that parents will always be with you; brings in a lot of confidence. (With my siblings Papa was quite a disciplinarian, but with me he always used this approach, I don’t know it was because I was a third born or because he understood that with me being headstrong, that was the best approach:)).

So each person has to be handled in a unique way, and that requires a parent to have loads of time for his/ her child, understanding and patience.

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I won’t be a hypocrite and say that the thought of suicide has never entered my mind. It has-on countless occasions. But something or the other holds me back. Either it is the thought of the trauma my family will have to face or the thought that whether any problem is big enough; for me to end my life.

Life has much more to offer. Death can wait.

And then came fame

2010-01-19T08:40:00.001+03:00

Ukkunagaram; the township of Visakhapatnam Steel Plant is almost a Utopia. For in this township, there are no difference in strata, no rich, no poor as all are employed in the Plant. There are no keralites, Telugus, UPites either, all are ‘township’ites.

But for the women there is not much to keep busy. Women can be either Doctors, nurses, teachers or engineers who are working for the Steel plant. The more ambitious ones can go to the 35 km away Vizag city, the rest can do some odd business at home like trading in sarees or giving tuitions. The rest keep busy in housework, gardening, mahila samaj and kitty parties.

The latter two are good, people exchange ideas, views, socialize and do some social work, but on the flip side they also tend to comparisons; who has better sarees/ salwars, better jewellery, whose kid is more talented, which kid is more illustrious-those sorts.

Its Durga Puja time. Right from the 6th to the 9th day there is Bhog at the Kalibari (Kali temple).the whole township irrespective of religion, caste and creed gathers there. For apart from the puja, the socializing, the bhog of khichdi, charchari, khajur-tomato chutney and kheer is so scrumptious that only a life or death situation can keep anyone away. Even the employees on duty on special permission, go by Rota to partake this meal.

Evenings are for cultural programs. There will be professional artists enacting the story of Durga-Kali but there will be programs by the locals too.

And so on Saptami ( the seventh day), Shanti is in tears. Why? Because her neighbor Kavita has got herself new sarees for each of the day and her friend Nisha has got a diamond set and she has got neither.

Also all her friends kids are so talented. One got a prize for rangoli, one for singing. Another in the quiz competition and so on. And her kids? Her son Vishal is good in swimming but not champion material. Who cares for swimming anyways, its only cricket nowadays? And her daughter Vidya, the bane of her life. Neither is she good looking nor is she interested in looking good. She is mediocre in studies, fair in singing and a horrible dancer.

Her husband comes in to see her teary eyed and asks the reason. ‘You, you are the reason, neither have you bought any good sarees for me nor a single gram of gold.’

‘Saree, our wardrobes are bursting with sarees and gold is so expensive. I would rather buy some Reliance shares, atleast I will have some guaranteed returns’, he replied.

‘Yes yes think only about yourself’, she said before she could continue the phone rang. ‘Hello, oh hi Sujatha, oh is it, Congrats’, and she kept the receiver down. And then she burst into tears.

‘What, what happened?’, her husband asked.

‘Sujathas daughter got 1st prize in dance and see my kids; leave prize, no participation’, sobbed Shanti

So she continued in her morose mood the next day too. Just then Mrs.Sharma burst into the living room,’Shanthi Shanthi, guess what happened’, and before she got a reply continued, 'Chintu, the brat fell down into the KBR reservoir. Vishal dived in and brought him out and maybe because of the shock, he had lost consciousness and had drank too much water. Vidya revived him. What brave children you have got.’

And after that there were non -stop phone calls and visitors, everyone praising her kids and when the Plant too recognized their efforts and awarded them, Shanthi was the happiest woman in the whole town.

Hopeless and then some hope!!

2010-01-16T09:40:00.000+03:00

Navya finished packing and sat musing. Then she got up and moved around the house. Touching everything tenderly. This home she had built herself with so much loving care and now she had to leave it all. Why? Because she was childless. Ten long years and still childless; that was the expression people gave her.

It was strange. A girl/woman may be intelligent, smart,, loving but to be considered marriage ‘material’ her looks, her ability to cook and her ability to multiply were the deciding factors. People actually check on the girls background and see that the family does not have any history of ‘barrenness’

But there was no history of barrenness in her family. She just had some hormonal imbalances and was undergoing treatment. But not any more. She could endure the physical pain of the ‘treatment’ but not people’s glances and her in-laws queries. Al most every other day her m-i-l would call and ask ‘any good news?’. What good news could you expect every other day?

She loved kids but didn’t mind not able to have one, adoption would have equally satisfied her. But Ajay her husband was against it. He said that having your own kid was altogether different experience. It was strange how our society functions. As soon as you are married, people say, ‘so, when will you be giving us the good news?’ As if that is the sole object of two people coming together. The friends who were once close were now busy with their kids. Even meeting them was sort of agony because they had no other topic of discussion except their kids studies, their pranks, their not eating properly etc.

And so she had decided to leave her husband and Bahrain. She would be flying to India on the pretext of visiting an ailing Uncle and from there she would go to some other place and start a new life. No, she was not escaping. But she could not see Ajay’s pain. He loved kids and why should he suffer because of her. She knew he would never divorce her but he would never adopt also, so what else she could do?

It was Friday, the weekly off in the Gulf. Ajay was attending a seminar and so she had hurriedly packed her bags. Hurriedly; because she had to keep her certificates and all. If she had packed in front of him, he would have been suspicious.

The lock turned and Ajay stepped inside. ’Arrey, you came back early?’, she said.

‘Hmm’, he said, he looked preoccupied, so she kept quiet.

After some hours, he called, ’Navya, I met your boss Mr. Kashi, he said you have resigned. You didn’t tell me? Why? You were going to leave me, isn’t it?’

She kept mum.

‘is it because of your not able to conceive and everyone’s comments. But Navya, remember what the Doctor said? To think positive. Its just some imbalance Navya….’

“yes Ajay its imbalance but you are forgetting that I am 35 and the chances to conceive are slim now and then you are so against adoption that I had no other choice’

‘Actually I am not against adoption Navya. But laws on adoption are strict. For NRIs even more. I have put in an application but it takes time. And then there is no guarantee that we may get permission. I insisted on trying for a biological baby so that later on you don’t have any regrets. That’s why’

‘Really, have you really applied?’

‘Yes I have, keep your fingers crossed. Meanwhile go to India have a vacation and return. Mr.Kashi is ready to throw away your resignation,’ Ajay replied with a smile.

‘But what about your parents?’ she asked,’ will they agree for adoption?’

‘That is our decision isn’t it. But I am sure when they look into the angels face they will come around’, he answered.

And so sat Navya musing but now with a joyous heart.

Some facts

2010-01-13T08:41:00.001+03:00

Mergers, takeovers, even coalition governments look easier when compared to feeding a child recovering from illness.
Who said that inane objects can't think; my gas cylinder always empties on a weekend
You will always get great offers when you have already purchased whatever you were waiting for
Your piece -DE- resistance will always flop whenever there are guests.
When the whites are washed the whitest ; you can be assured that there will be a dust storm
You may enter an empty store but as soon as you finish your purchases, there will surely be a queue at the payments.
You may board up your windows, you may talk in whispers but still there will be some neighbor who knows all about the happenings at your place

Self Reliance

2010-01-10T14:53:00.000+03:00

This post is inspired by Zeal.In it Chandrika has mentioned how in a small village a gaushalla is being run by a self help group for homeless, injured, starved cows and how local people voluntarily help out.

I was very pleased by this approach for I feel that in today's age rather than asking the government for help or blaming the government for its inactivity, it would be far better to rely on ourselves.

For what can the government do when its Ministers are busy tweeting away or are such nincompoops that they can't take a stand and where the opposition is too busy resolving its own differences. Isn't it the right approach that we all do whatever we can whether monetarily or physcically for betterment of our society. I know there are a lot of NGOs which are making a difference but India with its vast population needs many more.

The issues maybe big or small, it may be running a gaushala or running a school, its high time that we rise to the situation and take stock.

I also received a mail recently about what happened inside the Taj on 26/11, the heroics of the Taj staff and how the Tata group reciprocated; absolutely brilliant. Why can't our corporates take some issues and follow it up. I know industries do adopt villages and look after their welfare but if each corporate does take up an issue/s and follow it up religiously, we can have a social revolution.

Much more can be said and much more can be deliberated but for now I think individuals doing their bit and corporates doing theirs is fair enough.

Rest will automatically follow.

Just like that-6

2010-01-08T15:42:00.001+03:00

I turn around to see sickness all around- viral fever, cold, coughs; those kinds.

The phone rings and I groan for the past couple of days; been getting news of only ‘exits’.

I am avoiding conversations because lately they have a tendency to be argumentative.

My joints seem to groan and creak, time for some ‘oiling’ I guess.

In such a scenario, what do you do?

I sit with a hot bowl of soup leafing through ‘ShriPrem Sudha Sagar’ hoping that maybe philosophy will boost my morale.

Cheers.

The Grapevine

2010-01-04T18:26:00.000+03:00

Human networks are awesome, more than the current social networks and in some cases equally malicious. It seems Shahrukh joined Twitter and within an hour he had 10000 followers. In the normal world our grapevines work equally fast. Here is a case of a woman who twists her ankle and the events which follow …….

Vidya got down from the bus laden with bags of vegetables from the Central market. Now Mangalore is still far off from low floor buses and so getting down from the bus that too in heavy rush with bags is actually a task. And so Vidya got down with all the rush and the push and also the poor state of the roads; she twisted her ankle. Somehow she got to the corner and tried to hail an auto but at that moment there was a downpour. Now there is something special about Mangalore autos. They never come for short distances and not at all if there is rain even if you are ready to pay outrageously.

And so Vidya had no other option but to limp towards her flat. Although just a 5 minute walk but the limp and the rain made it look kilometers away. Now it so happened that Mrs. Shetty, Vidyas neighbor was going for a wedding in her car and her mind started working overtime; ‘Hmm, Vidya limping. Yesterday Anant and Vidya were arguing, didn’t hear what they were saying but it went for a long time and ended with a crash; was it that Anant kicked her or something, poor woman is limping badly.’

And so she went with these thoughts to the wedding, where she met Mrs. Shenoy. With the usual talks, she casually mentioned Vidya’s limp. ‘ I don’t know for sure but I think Anant must have hit her and what a beast, poor woman has a limp but still she went to Central market for vegetables. Couldn’t they just manage for a day with some lentils, poor woman, and I hear that her maid is also sick. Imagine doing everything with a limp’ and so it went.

And so Mrs.Shenoy went and told Nayana who was Anant’s college mate. Who told them of an event when a girl had been ragged and Anant had beat the boys who had ragged her, ’always was a violent type’ was her by line.

And so this news travelled and reached Mrs.Pai who was Mrs. Nayaks (Vidyas mother) friend and who promptly called her up and informed her everything. Now Vidyas parents stay in Udupi but within a span of 3 hours, she had come to know about the events.

And so the phone rang and Vidya picked it up,’Hello…Amma, how are you, me,? I am absolutely fine.’

‘My poor baby , you don’t have to hide anything. Remember what your father had told you on your wedding day, you might be someone’s wife but you will always be our daughter.’

‘Now Vidya was a bit confused and asked slowly, ’Amma what is the matter?’

And so her mother told whatever she had been told. And Vidya had a hearty laugh. ‘Wait Amma I will tell you what happened. Shriram got low scores in his class test and me and Anant had an argument over it. Anant was of the opinion that I don’t teach him properly and I was telling that Shriram doesn’t listen to me and also now that he is in class six his Maths is a bit tough and I am not able to do justice. It was a normal argument Amma, something which you and dad have. And during that time I took out the milk vessel from the fridge but it slipped from my hands, as it was falling I moved back and bumped against the stool, which also crashed and so the ‘sounds’. Today being Friday you know I stock on vegetables for the weekend and so had been to Central market. I twisted my ankle while getting down from the bus, didn’t get an auto and so limped back home. No, no I am better now but Anant’s on his way home now and is going to take me to the Doctor, don’t worry.’

And so Vidya somehow pacified her mother and was thinking who could have started the rumor. She thought it would have been so much simpler if he/she would have just offered her a lift home rather than beginning the ‘vine’.

The Difficult Years

2009-12-30T08:49:00.001+03:00

Asha fluffed up the pillow and sighed. Her 16 year old daughter was totally ignorant on keeping her room neat. In her age I used to cook for the whole family, she thought, but no I should not compare. Neither do I want her to face the hardships that I faced during my teenage; my kids will get the best in their life. But I too get tired; I get only 2 days leave and the entire Saturday goes in cleaning. True, there are maids, they work but they do not put their soul into it. And so she kept on conversing with herself. When suddenly her hands felt something under the mattress, she took it out to see a small packet with some powder, she gasped; was it some drug-hashish, ganja something. Her mind went blank and she sat down heavily.

Her mind whirled and went back to the time when Saloni was 4 and Sajan was 2. Her husband Vijay was about to open a small scale industry of ball bearings and she had joined a nursery school as a teacher, so that the home fire could be kept burning. Earnings in a new venture were always so erratic. Maaji was with them so she took care of the kids while she went to school and Vijay tended to his ‘baby.’ It had been very hard for him, the floatation of the company, the employee turnover, trying to keep the employees happ , competition, everything but he had succeeded. She was so proud of him. She in turn had taken care of the home front, the kids studies, their PTA meetings, taking on her shoulder whatever she could so that he could concentrate on his work. Recently they had bought this bungalow in the city’s posh locality. They were surrounded by the city’s affluent. Sajan had adjusted quite nicely but he had always been a happy boy. Initially Saloni was lonely, she didn’t feel any sense of belonging. But she seemed to be quite satisfied nowadays, was this, the reason, she thought.

She asked Vijay to come early and they sat talking. He looked at the packet and said ‘Yes I do think its some kind of drug. Where were you when all this happened?’

‘Huh, excuse me, I didn’t understand’, said Asha.

‘You are the one who stays most of the time with the kids, didn’t you notice something amiss.’ He had barely said this when the door flew open and his mother barged in. ‘How dare you say that to her. Don’t forget that when you were busy floating your company it was her who took care of the home, kids and also the money’.

Vijay looked at his mother in shock. Asha had told him many times that his mother overhears their conversation but he never believed. But today he got evidence.

His mother continued,’ yes I listen to what you all speak and it has been my habit, I used to listen to your father too. Your wife is a saint; she neither doubts you or keeps an eye on you.’

Asha didn’t know whether it was a praise or criticism and so kept mum.

‘And now is not the time to criticize or fight with each other,’Maaji continued,’ now is the time to work as a team and solve this crisis’.

And so it was decided that the three of them will take turns, never to let Saloni alone at home. Always keep on talking to her. Vijan from now on would come home early and they would all have dinner together. Weekends would be spent together too and maybe summer they would take a vacation somewhere. And so with a surge of confidence that night Asha went to Salonis room.

‘Kya kar raha hain mera baccha,’ said she (what is my child doing)

‘Why did you come in my room without knocking and why do you forget that I am not a baccha anymore?’, said Saloni and Asha felt deflated.

Later she told her co conspirators-‘people are supposed to be on a high when they do drugs but why is Saloni so unhappy?’

‘Maybe because she knows what she is doing is wrong. Asha the values that we have imparted must be there somewhere.’ was Maajis reply.

So they took turns to crack Salonis shield, sometimes with love, sometimes with sternness. And all the while they hoped they were not too late…….

It was a month later when Asha went to Salonis room to find her weeping, on enquiry she was told quite rudely that it was none of her business; when Asha cracked,’ Not my business? Its damn well my business, you are my daughter. I know about you and am here to help you.’

‘You know?’ asked Saloni and started weeping some more.

‘Do tell me baby, what is the problem. We tried to give you everything. Earlier even though we could not afford, we tried to give you the best. Then why?’

‘Maa it is nothing like that; you always gave me the best. In our earlier flat and society, I belonged but after coming here I was an outcast. Nobody made friends with me. Then one day Anoo, our neighbor introduced me to her elite friends circle. I so much wanted to be friends with them that I also took whatever they were taking. That’s how it happened.’

‘So are you happy now’.

‘I am happy that I belong now but no I am no happy inside. Do you understand what I am saying’, asked Saloni.

‘Yes I think I do. And you are taking it regularly.’

‘No only when I am with them. But you know Maa for sometime I will be very happy but later I will feel so bad.’

God bless Maaji, maybe that’s what she meant by our values not going wrong,’ So why are you upset today?,’ probed Asha. And Saloni started weeping violently.

‘We were dancing to some music Maa when Rohit came close, I was not comfortable so I moved back, he persisted and when I told him to back off, he said that that is how high society people dance. After all that’s what I was doing, all the time, imitating their style, looks, clothes, habits so why not this? He made me feel so cheap maa. As if I am dumb without a mind of my own. He made me feel as an impersonator, but can he be like me, a topper in school, swimming champion, can he paint like me.’ Asha held her close. How do you console your child? How do you tell her that a world is full of good and BAD people, and that out of the assortment youhave to pick the right ones. But most important how can you take away your child’s pain. You can give chocolates, you can give gifts but how do you take away pain?

So she held her tight. And wished that Maaji was here. She was sure that she might be somewhere there listening to them. And lo the door opened and in she came and stroked Salonis hair.

‘You are very right, darling. You can impersonate them but they can’t even do that. Because you are an all rounder, good in studies, sports, painting everything. And what are they? Cowards who can’t face the world so they have to depend on drugs. Yes you need friends but friends who share your thoughts and your interests not such types who bring your moral, your self confidence down. And never consider yourself lonely, we, your family will always be at your side, come what may.’

‘Does that mean that I am pardoned?’ asked Saloni in a small voice.

‘Not really’, said Maaji,’You will have some punishments. Firstly you have to stop using these things, Secondly you have to participate in all family activities, thirdly you have to help Sajan in his studies and fourthly you have to get in touch again with your friends from out old colony. Understood?’

‘Yes dadi, understood’, said Saloni and hugged her Dadi

Asha was relieved a major hurdle had been crossed; but how things will move from here; that time would only tell.

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This will be the last post of this year, so wishing everyone a very Happy, Safe and Peaceful 2010

Tale of two friends

2009-12-25T17:28:00.002+03:00

Sakhi

Sakhi was tidying up humming a tune. She was excited, happy and a bit anxious too. Meeting a friend after 20 yrs does make you anxious. Yes, she was meeting her childhood friend Anu after 20 yrs. They had been neighbors in their steel township of Bhilai, had studied in the same school, same Division, same college until finally they had got married and she had landed in Mumbai and Anu in Bhopal. And tomorrow they were meeting at the nearby Mall. She was ecstatic; it was as if a part of her childhood was returning to her. But what is this, she looked at her reflection in the mirror; her hair looked so lackluster, so many wrinkles on her face…….her son Kartik was right, she should regularly visit the saloon. Yes, she thought she just had to visit the saloon early morning tomorrow, else what will Anu think of her. Anu was married into an industrialist family, so naturally she must have kept herself trim and proper. Just then she saw Kartik with his low fit jeans and his jockeys peeping out and she fumed, ‘ Kartik, wear some proper clothes tomorrow and not these ‘types’, what will Anu think if you come in such clothes.’ ‘Come on Maa, what I can do if that small town Behenji doesn’t know about current trends’, was his reply. “How dare you call my friend Behenji and speaking of small towns don’t forget your Maa hails from a small town too.’

Anu

Anu had turned her entire suitcase out but still couldn’t find the proper sari to wear. She was meeting Anu after so many years and she wanted to look good. But all she had were these heavy embroidered saris in gaudy colors. Her mother in law never allowed her to wear pastel colors saying that she looked anaemic in them. Sakhi was now a Mumbaikar, so naturally her taste in clothes will be chic, and also being a teacher she might be fluent in English. As for her, she had stopped speaking in English just after her marriage and now she had doubts whether she could speak a single sentence properly. Just then her son Abhishek came inside. ‘Abhi wear that blue jeans and the white Tee tomorrow.’ “but Maa I thought of wearing my check shirt, I feel more comfy in those’ ‘Come on Abhi you are in Mumbai, have some sense of style. You have come to join IIT Mumbai, you will be ragged nicely if you don’t change yourself.’

The tomorrow dawned nice and bright. The husbands were enjoying their wives plight and the sons were confused as to how to react.

The meeting

They met in the food court. The friends hugged each other and took stock, introductions
were made, after some time, the husbands went to a corner discussing the share market while the sons went to the game zone. And Sakhi said’Kaisi hai?’ and Anu inhaled a deep breathe of relief. And then they started chatting away like they used to do back in the good old days of Bhilai.

‘Sakhi your son is very well mannered and has quite a sense of style.’

‘But your son is so down to earth and so humble and so brilliant too. And you Anu you are looking so good in this orange sari. It suits you well. I remember in college you used to war pastel shades but bright colors suit you very well.’

‘And you Sakhi your skin is absolutely glowing, you have kept yourself very well.’

‘Err, no, actually I wanted to look the best, so had been to the saloon today morning. Where do I get the time to groom myself? ‘

Anu giggled, ‘Sakhi were you anxious about this meeting?’

‘Yes but why are you asking?’

And out came her story about how she had spent hours in selecting a sari, finally selecting one which was the least gaudy, her issues with her son and her inability to converse in English.

Sakhi in turn told her about her concerns and both had a hearty laugh and carried their conversation and friendship forward.

Oh Women and their apprehensions!!!

Lesson

2009-12-21T17:03:00.000+03:00

‘I don’t want’, screamed Saahil and ran off from the room. Karuna was exasperated. Day by day her 10 year old was becoming difficult to handle. ‘He knows he can emotionally blackmail us, she thought, but how to control him. I can’t let him stay hungry, he knows that. Invariably I will give him some money and he will eat some junk during his school interval. Just then her maid Sumitrabai arrived. ‘Sumitra you know I get late if you come in late.’ ‘I know Bibiji’. She replied but Ganu dropped food on his school uniform.’ ‘So?’ asked Karuna. “he only has one pair Bibiji and his teacher scolds if his uniform is soiled, so I brought him along.’ And out peeped Ganu from his mother’s back. His cheeks were wet with tears. Obviously his mother had scolded him.

Karuna felt sorry. “Ganu have some French toast”, she offered. He took it greedily and ate with such a relish that tears sprang to her eyes. If only once my Saahil ate like that I would consider myself fortunate, she thought.

That night Karuna and Sekhar brainstormed how to reform their son, who apart from being headstrong and manipulative was also very demanding. They wanted to straighten him up before it was too late. Karuna had a brainwave. “Sekhar what are you doing this Saturday?” ‘Boss has asked me to come to work’

‘Oh, in that case I will take Saahil to Sumitrabai’s basti and there he will have a lesson of his life’, thought Karuna enigmatically. Saahil could wrap his father around his little finger and Sekhar too could not see his son in any kind of inconvenience. And the plan she had in mind required a tough heart.

Saturday bloomed and she got ready, Saahil got up at 9am to see his mother all ready and packing a bag. ‘Mom where are you going.’ ‘Good morning Saahil, I am going to Sumitrabai’s basti. Had lot of old clothes, some new ones too which you refused to wear. Then some food items, medicines etc’. But you always give it to Bai and she distributes’, said Saahil. ‘Yes but I am not sure she does it properly, so this time I will do it myself. By the way can you manage by yourself?’ ‘Huh meaning?’ he asked. ‘Meaning that your father has gone to work, so you have to manage on your own’. ‘Huh, no I will come with you’, he answered and ran to get ready. Karuna gave a sly smile. If she had asked him to get ready he would have thrown a tantrum, she knew he hated to be alone.

‘Mama why do we have to go by this bus and not by taxi’, Saahil complained when for the umpteenth time the bus heaved and a fisherwoman bumped against him. ‘Because I spent Rs 2500 for your PC games this month and I just can’t afford a taxi’, replied Karuna. And after sometime he asked ’Does Bai travel every day like this.’ ‘Yes for the past 5 years and don’t know for how many more.’ Replied she and thought ‘good he is trying to understand’.

Sumitra was waiting for them at the bus stop. She was overjoyed that her Bibiji had come to visit her basti. She took them home and gave them tea to drink along with some biscuits. Initially Saahil crinkled his nose but then he raised his head and saw the look of adulation on her face and he quietly took the tumbler of tea. Ganu was quietly hovering as usual behind his mother. Karuna called him and said ‘Here Ganu take this uniform, you will never have to miss school anymore.’ He came running to take it and hugged the uniform and bowed his head before her feet. Saahil was astonished. Karuna explained that a pair of uniform cost around Rs 200 a luxury for them, as Sumitra had a family of 8 to support.

Saahil looked around. It was a mud house but kept very neat. He compared his own room. It was bigger than the entire house. And it housed every conceivable thing that he wanted, PC, music system, books, games. And here ………….

After Tea Sumitra took them around the basti and Karuna distributed the paraphernalia. Everywhere he saw the joyous look on people’s faces. Could people be so happy in receiving old clothes, food, books? And then finally they went to the health centre. And gave medicines to the Doctor there. ‘Thanks Mrs. Awasthi, though we get allocated medicines, its never enough,’ said the Doctor. ‘Are you the duty Doctor’, asked Karuna. ‘No I am a volunteer, I come here each Weekend’, he smiled and returned to his work. Saahil was again astonished. A Doctor volunteering for serving poor people was a bit difficult to understand.

On the way back home Karuna gave a sideways glance to Saahil who was deep in thought. They had had food in a roadside dhaaba and for the first time he had not fussed and complained.

‘I hope he remembers this lesson throughout his life,’ she thought. She too had an insight into an other life. She was tired and hoped that Shekhar would have reached home by then and would make her some tea. After all, she too was not used to rickety bus travels and witnessing poverty.

Man/Woman?

2009-12-17T12:00:00.000+03:00

There are some days when I am desolate. When everything-the cooking, cleaning, nurturing everything seems a burden. It was one of those days.

On self-examination I found out that, that day my bleakness was connected to being a woman and the womanly chores. And to gather myself I thought how it would be if I was a man. Obviously my role models were the men who I have been associated with (father, brother, husband, friends).

• Getting up In the morning without worrying about breakfast, freshen up , shave(ugh), dress up, have breakfast already on the table(wow), tying up a tie(ugh), leaving for office.

• Battling morning hour traffic, short time-shorter tempers. Fixing schedule, reporting (ugh), answering superiors as to why sales are low.(ugh, ugh).

• Detailing, presentations –difficult tasks. Have to be on tip toes but then don’t have to worry about cooking or cleaning, or the nutritional aspects or what the kid is doing or whether he has eaten or not. Or whether the laundry is to be done.

• Meet some friends on the job and have a nice chat but then deadlines have to be kept.

• Somewhere in the midst come have lunch and check if everything is fine. And if not enquire the wifey as to why it went wrong?? I would like to do that.:)

• Have a short nap and again leave for work. A man always seems to have the upper hand in most things except when he is in front of his superiors. But then the reporting, the going to office all have strict time constraints. A woman that too a housewife can manipulate on time. Yes there are time constraints but they can be adjusted.

• Evening if the mood is good, take the family out or just say that I am tired. Can a woman afford to say that she is tired and not do her work??

• When I am at home I love the feel of old cotton clothes, Feel very comfy in those but whether it be a man or woman who goes to work, you have to be dressed up right.

• Yes a man has power and dominates the home front but ultimately it’s the woman who rules the roost.

I was listing the man/ woman pluses and minuses and the count was 50/50, when sonny hurt himself. He didn’t cry but got up and got busy again. But I could feel his pain and his shame. The umbilical chord which has been severed up still connects us somehow. Now can a man achieve this feat?

And everything was bright and sunny in my world again.

On Eve teasing and other idle chat

2009-12-13T17:24:00.001+03:00

I am so utterly disgusted at the ongoing state of affairs; of the demand for different states ; that I am not going to comment on it at all. Instead I am going to rant about eve -teasing. It amazes me that for a society which is progressing by leaps and bounds, our mentality has not changed.

Some days back on my way to pick my son up from play-school, a car slowed down and the driver whistled. And….I burst into laughter. For some men any woman will do, the size, age, looks don’t matter at all. Now this reaction of mine was not anticipated and he sped away. When I recounted this incident to my husband, he was of the opinion that I should have given him a solid whack, but I have seen too many Hindi movies –you know the villain returns the next day with his goons –those types. After all I do have to go on the same route every day.

Years before while still in school, I had seen a girl being teased and seeing her despair had resolved that never will I allow anyone to demean me. In our society it’s the victim who is victimized while the injurer goes scot free.

Mysore cinema theatres have a wonderful system. The last row is reserved for girls. And while studying there us girls really enjoyed watching movies without the botherations of any ‘bad boys’. Once we planned on watching the first day first show-I think it was Khalnayak. We bunked our classes and reached the theatre to find that the counter had not yet opened, so we all went for a stroll. When we returned the balcony seats were all sold out. No w we just had to see the movie that day so took the seats available. As always in such situations, I somehow find myself in the corner seat. No sooner had the film began that I found a ‘hand’ trying to touch me. Tried to dodge it a couple of times, but the hand didn’t budge. And so… I gave a nice pierce with my safety pin. Then the ‘face’ of the ‘hand’ came into focus and gave a gasp, and then I also waved the blade which I always carry in my purse. Needless to say he ran away and we watched the movie in peace. This memory always makes me laugh and I wonder if I am a sadist;)). The poor guy came to watch Khalnayak and met a khalnayika.

When I was job hunting, I used to travel often from Vizag to Mumbai. In one of those train journeys, when all were fast asleep, a hand moved up my limbs. First I gave him a look, second time I was vocal, third time I gave him a solid kick. When I told about this to my brother he was of the opinion that I should have screamed. But in India, it doesn’t help. People especially women would have opined that I should not have travelled alone in the first place. Of course those were the 90s, situation might have changed for the better.

Here in Bahrain recently we were on a crowded street. Bahrain culture is such that cars stop for pedestrians to cross the road and people make way for a woman to walk on a crowded road. And so we were walking when I could feel that a person was trying to act fresh. (On such matters a woman has her gut feeling and a visually challenged person has her sixth sense; me being both makes a lethal combination). I say tried to because before he could do anything I elbowed him nicely on the ribs. And what a nice sleep I got that day:)

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Recently saw three movies. I prefer to watch comedies, the seriousness of life itself is too much, and so I don’t bother to watch serious stuff. And so I saw ‘All the best’ and ‘De dana dan’. Both movies are passable but the conclusion of both disappointed me, the humor was not sustained till the end.

I liked ‘Wake up Sid’. Quite a fresh film but didn’t like its ending too. Can’t a male and female be just friends, why do they have to say the three words?
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Its so very interesting to watch kids play. I like it when they try to make alphabets with their ‘chaklis’ or with the dough. Where does the fun and imagination disappear when we step into adulthood?

Dialogue

2009-12-10T17:23:00.000+03:00

On a rainy day that too a Sunday; a husband and a wife are sitting in a room idling away time. The wife is busy on the computer; the husband is …eyeing the computer.

Husband: what are you reading?
Wife: not of your interest

H: still?

W: A blog

H: Why do you read someone's rant and rave?

W: why do you read Economic times, BusinessLine, Moneycontrol?

H: Those are different, I get different viewpoints

W: Same with blogs.

Silence for some time

H: Where are the kids?

W: Gone to play carrom at the neighbors?

H: They could have played here only

W: can you tolerate six high spirited teenagers.

Silence for some more time

H: What’s for lunch?

W: I thought of making a one pot meal.

H: A One pot what?

W: A pulao

H: Why? I thought being a Sunday you would cook something elaborate

W: Why? I deserve a break too

H: but you always have a break. Aren’t you a housewife?

W: Does it mean that I am free the whole day, do you know how much work there is at home.

H: Alright make some soup, it’s a bit cool; make some nice soup.

W: don’t feel like making any

H: OK open up some instant soup sachet

W: none at home

H: UHH OK make some dessert, kheer or halwa, make something

W: Why don’t you just say that you cannot see me sitting? You are always pleased to see me slogging away.

Wife goes to the kitchen in exasperation

Husband waits for 5 minutes dances a chiggy wiggy and starts surfing the net.

Wife returns in 45 minutes

W: what’s the news?

H: market is down, an impact of the ‘Dubai’News.

W: No I wanted to know about the review of Paa.

H: Haven’t read

Silence

W;Have you finished your report?

H: No haven’t started

W: When will you start?

H: Soon

W: If I am not wrong you will start at 10pm and keep working till 2am and I won’t be able to sleep because of the lights.

H:I will start now.

W: And you have to remove the cobwebs, my hands don’t reach the ceiling.

H: Next week

W: that’s what you said the last week too.

H: Now, why don’t you say that you have to use the comp.

W: that’s right I haven’t even read the news.

At that moment the door opens and the kids rush in

Child 1;Oh Ok you are having a fight again

H:Oh no we were having an intelligent discussion

Child 2: Discussion as to who will read the news (and chuckles)

Child 1; Why can’t one of you surf the net and one watch TV ( and both rush into their room)

Husband and wife burst out laughing, how would kids understand how much fun they had irritating each other.

On a rainy day.....

2009-12-08T11:55:00.001+03:00

Its raining outside and I feel absolutely lazy. I hate being cooped inside the house, it makes me claustrophobic. Had planned to go out with an umbrella but saw the road outside flooded and ran back inside. If there is anything I hate more than being trapped inside, it is getting my feet wet :-)

Two questions that are going on in my mind:

• The increasing terrorism. Survival itself is so difficult for a common man and some people have the time to spread terror. How is that possible, I am bewildered!!

• Madhu Koda says he is innocent. I would like to know his definition of innocence. How are corrupt people able to sleep at night with all their ‘Innocence’? I wonder!!

meri iccha

2009-12-06T11:50:00.000+03:00

किसी ने  मुझ से पूछा
माँगना हो अगर
जीनी   से तो क्या मांगोगी?
मैंने सोचा बहुत सोचा.

धन, वैभव मांग क्या करुँगी,
पल  भर की ज़िन्दगी कल को गर
टिकेट कट गया तो
धन वैभव लाद  कहाँ जाउंगी

ऐशोरम की ज़िन्दगी
का भी फायदा नहीं
अगर दिनभर मेहनत न करू
तो रात को नींद आती नहीं.

नाम ज़रूर चाहूंगी
पर आजकल तो नामवाले
भी पलभर मैं
बदनाम होते हैं.

चाहूंगी अगर तो बस
अपनों का साथ
ज़र्रुरी  नहीं की हरदम हो प्यार मोहब्बत,
लड़ाई झगड़ो का भी तड़का हो साथ साथ

चाहती हूँ तो बस आरोग्य
कभी कभी थोडा पेट दर्द
थोडा सर दर्द
और अधिक न हो नासाज़.

क्या पूरी होगी मेरी यह अभिलाषा?

Of Ubbattis and ma-in-laws

2009-11-30T15:10:00.001+03:00

Savitri was cooking up a storm…………., literally. Her ma-in law was arriving by the night train and so the frenzied activity.

From the time she had become a widow, mayi (ma-in-law in Konkani) used to alternate between the homes of her two sons. Three months at each place. And her arrival was preceded by cleaning, clearing and cooking. She was very finicky about neatness-each item at its proper place types and cleanliness. Being a good cook, no one absolutely no one could satisfy her taste buds, she could find fault with the best of cooks.

And then there was Saani ( Saani means young in Konkani). Saani was the other daughter in law, her pet. Saani could never do anything wrong. Saani was chic, Saani could cook Continental, Saani had a lovely accent etc.

Of course she had a lovely accent. She was heading HR in an IT company not like her –cashier in Canara Bank thought Savi. Whole day dole out cash, check and cross check and then rush home to cook and satisfy mayi. She would sit whole day chanting her Ram naams but would she help her, no. And would she eat the leftovers of the morning meal or the previous days, no. And so when Mayi was with them she would have to cook four times a day. Yes four times, how can one have just tea in the evening? What- biscuits with tea? No. Biscuits were still an alien word in Mayis dictionary.

‘Amma what are you making’, asked her six year old daughter Aadya. ‘Ubbatis dear’, she replied. ‘What amma I wanted Crème caramel’, wailed Aadya. ‘Yes yes why not, as if your Bappamma (paternal Grandmother) was not enough, you also make demands. I will resign and sit at home catering to all of your needs’, screamed Savi. ‘Come here Aadya’, her eldest Aruna said, 'bappammas coming today and amma’s BP is high’, she giggled. Rajeev chuckled but then kept a straight face, he knew it was better to be quiet, else swords could be raised.

Now mayi loved Ubbatis. Ubbati is a sweet made of all purpose flour rolled like chappatis and stuffed with sweetened chana dal.(Also known as holige in kannada and puranpolis in Marathi). But it had to be perfectly round, shallow fried to a golden color and adequately sweet). In all her 15 years of married life, Savi had not been able to evoke a good response from her ma in law on her cooking. But this time she hoped to break the jinx. And so the ubbatis.

‘Aaykale(listen-in konkani), taste this and tell me how it is,’ said Savi to her husband. In the early days of her marriage Savi had once called him by his name, but one look at her mayis knitted eyebrows and she had resorted to Aaykale. Her husband as usual was unresponsive, but so many years of marriage she could read his mind. Yes, it had turned out well.

Mayi came feasted on the spread and then Savi laid out her trump card-ubbati. But no- no response. Like mother-like son thought Savi grudgingly.

Next day lunch time she got a call from Saani

She was astonished. Saani and call her?

Savi-Hello

Saani-Hello akka and thus they exchanged pleasantries and then Saani asked, Akka can you tell me the proportion of ubbati. Mayi never seems to be happy with what I make but she always praises you and your cooking. So I thought in these three months I will practice making ubbatis and then try to please her.

A bulb flashed in Savis mind and she asked-What else does she say about me/

Saani- that you are an exceptional cook, you have kept the traditions alive, your home is like a true Konkani home etc.

Savi-And do you know what she says about you? And then she told her. ‘Do you know what this means?’

Saani-Yes divide and rule policy. Mayi praises you in front of me and me in front of you and thus has enjoyed the best of both worlds And both of them giggled.

And that night peace reigned in both the homes; the food was lip-smacking, while the families wondered the reason for the smirk in the Home Ministers face.

Memories

2009-11-26T09:00:00.000+03:00

Mr. Sinha came out of Food Bazaar pretty pleased with his purchases. His daughter was coming on vacation after 4 years with her daughter who was 2 yrs old ( and whom he had not seen at all except her pictures) and her husband Rajeev.

On reaching home he put away all the purchases in their proper places. His wife had died of bone cancer 4 yrs back and he was all alone. Both his son and daughter were settled in USA. He had kept a cook but for his daughter; he wanted to cook himself. He was thinking about what all he wanted to make when his eyes fell on the Knorr soup pack. He picked it up with a satisfied grin. He had got a soup bowl with 5 packs of soup mix. Not bad at all. And he stored it with all the other items he had got for free.

Neha came running inside the house as soon as the taxi stopped. It felt nice to be back home, to relive your childhood. She ran from one room to another, but what’s this, she thought, mammas things are still kept ?

The initial days were spent catching up with the news, while Suni got acquainted with her grandfather and Rajeev relaxed. And then Neha asked, ‘ Papa last time when I was in India that is after mammas funeral, I had packed all her things and labeled them. So that you could give it to charity or to old age home etc. why haven’t you done that. ‘Mr. Sinha fidgeted nervously. ‘And why do you get all these free things-the soup bowls, the plates, you don’t need them, you have enough for your needs. A single person doesn’t need much.’ She was becoming aggressive in her tone when Rajeev interrupted, ‘Neha I want a cup of tea, please’.

Later in their room he told her, ‘why were you so harsh on him’. ‘Harsh Rajeev, look at the pile of junk. Why does he need all this. And he hasn’t disposed off mammas things.’

‘Try to understand his psychology Neha, he has still not accepted that you mother is not going to come back. So he is holding on to her things. With both you and Nishant not around, he is holding on to things as his family. Don’t be explicit somehow we will make him understand the reality.’

The next Sunday they kept a puja at home, a sort of memorial service in which they kept a photo of Mrs Sinha, sang her favorite bhajans, made her favorite food. The invitees were asked to narrate how they had met Mrs. Sinha and how she had touched their lives. And Mr. Sinha found tears flowing out of his eyes.

Suni had put on a new outfit and Neha remarked, ‘isn’t she looking just like mamma. I feel sometimes mamma has taken birth again’ and Mr. Sinha was thoughtful.

And so it went. Rajeev and Neha would drop hints at every opportunity.

Rajeev was going out for his morning walk when he noticed Mr. Sinha sitting in the garden lost in his thoughts. ‘Papa ‘, he urged. ‘Come sit here Rajeev, tell me, all these round about talks are to make me understand isn’t it?’

‘Yes papa. Mamma is not going to come back. She had suffered a lot and it was good that she went. At least that was the end of her suffering. Papa a suggestion, sell of this house, there are too many memories here and its too big for you anyways. As such you have 10 years US visit visa, come and stay with us and Nishant. I propose to return to India within 2 years and settle in Delhi to be near my parents; they too are getting old. You can stay with us or near us’

‘Sell this house? No, no. We had built this house with so much of love and dreams, can’t sell it’, and he got up abruptly and walked off.

Neha was busy gathering her things. In couple of days they were supposed to go to be with Rajeev’s parents when Mr. Sinha called her, ‘Neha these are your mother’s things. If you want something keep, rest I want to be donated to old age homes, slums etc. And I want Suni to do the donations. And all this utensils and crockery are to be given to Ajay. You remember Ajay, our maid Sumatibai's son. He got married recently, he will need these.'

Neha was relieved that finally her father was coming around.

Couple of months later Rajeev got an email; it went,

Dear Rajeev,

I thought a lot over what you had said. But I just can’t bring myself to sell this house. Nor do I want to come down to US. US for me is good for travels, not to live. For me my motherland is the best.

I plan to make this house into a home for lonely people like me, My architect friend is making a plan to renovate this house so that it could accommodate more people. We will have a prayer house, an exercise room and numerous other things. I will send you the plans. But before I do any alterations, I want to have Neha’s and Nishant’s approval. It is their home too and I need their permission. Can you put it across to her? You know she is a bit impulsive and I am afraid to talk to her.

With love

Your Papa

And Rajeev’s day was made.

Just like that-5

2009-11-24T09:09:00.000+03:00

Unfriend

Recently learnt that unfriend is a word which has been included in the dictionary now. Life I feel has become too mechanical. You delete contacts, you unfriend friends. What next? Maybe the life shown in Star Wars or futuristic movies is a reality now. By the way people with blue tooth do remind me of robots :-)

Expectations

Why do husbands advise their wives not to have expectations from them ( read helping around the house, teaching kids, shopping) while they themselves expect that their wife will be at their beck and call; never be idle. cook exotic food etceteras.

Moms

Moms wait for their kids to start school so that finally they will have some time to be just idle. But when the actual time comes; don't know how to be idle.

Housewife

It used to amaze me when mothers/wifes used to make different dishes and watch with pride as their family ate. I used to think whats great about that. NOW...... I do the same. It satisfies me that if I can't do anything else at least I can satisfy their taste buds.

Social networks.

There is a perpetual debate on the pros and cons of social networks. Why bother as long as we are not addicted to anything. For people wihout a social life, these networks are a savior. Of course the warmth of a personal face to face meet is missing.

Neethi is tired

2009-11-19T08:43:00.000+03:00

Neethi was tired; she had got up from bed with a superhuman effort. From a couple of days she was having bouts of dizziness. Which made her wonder if she was having brain tumor or was it just eye strain.

Neethi and her string of imaginary illness were a legend of the family. If it was pain in the abdomen it was appendicitis, if a slight pain in the left hand, was it heart attack and so on. She could equate any pain to some major illness.

So, she was making curry for the evening, Nimit was freshnening up after returning from work when the salt jar fell from her hand and scattered on the floor. Nimit came running from the bathroom thinking that she had fallen down to see the clay pot in pieces and that was it, he screamed; break everything breakable and we will live on the debris. The expired clay salt pot had been given by his mother, who had said that salt never gathers moisture in a clay pot and remains free flow. So understandably he was volatile.

Later while having dinner he looked at Neethis ashen face and felt guilty. ‘Neethi do you think we should meet Akkaya or maybe an ophthalmologist and have your eyes checked.’ Now Akkaya was Dr. Savitri, Nimits cousin sister, a gynecologist. Something clicked in Neethis mind but she kept mum.

Next day Nimit returned from work to see Neethi quietly sitting in a corner. That scared him, normally she would be bubbling to give him the day’s news. ‘Why what happened’, he asked.

‘ When you mentioned akkaya yesterday, something clicked in me and I went to the pharmacy and got a pregnancy kit’, she said

‘Huh and?’, he was shocked

‘And it came out positive. Must be all the efforts on your birthday’, she giggled and then looking at his expression; got scared and added,’ see I know you didn’t want a baby now but now that its happened, lets go ahead.’

But Nimit was silent

‘Please say something I am scared’, she said

‘I am flabbergasted, ecstatic, don’t know what to say’, he said, which relieved her.

Dr. Savitri acted as their local guardian and whenever she was free used to invite them over to her place. That Saturday was one of those days. Neethi murmured her discovery and Dr. Savitri hugged her in joy.

‘See Neethi I know your propensity to break things and getting hurt, but you have to take care of yourself and the baby now,’ she advised. And Neethi blushed, ‘But Akkaya I don’t understand, I don’t have morning sickness like other women.’

‘Well everyone does not have morning sickness, some have evening sickness, some are always tired like in your case, each one is different dear’, she explained, ‘But presently you should take lots of rest, don’t over exert yourself. Eat well. Eating well does not mean eating for two as it is generally said. But eating healthy food, lots of greens and fruits. You may want to eat spicy food but try to limit it as the body tends to retain fluids if you eat spicy food. And some even have a tendency for high blood pressure. Same goes for sweets too, some have a tendency for Diabetes during pregnancy. Try to eat sweets which are made with jaggery, as it contains iron. And yes you have to start on folic acid. It helps in reducing birth defects. And after a couple of months we will start you on iron supplements. But before that you have to get your blood test done to check that you are not anemic. I will check my schedule and fix an appointment for you.’

Both of them listened attentively. While She went on.’ And yes I am repeating myself please do be careful about yourself, dear, walk slowly, watch where you are heading, pay attention to what you are doing in order that you don’t hurt yourself. Also if you are feeling tired don’t exert yourself, take it easy. This husband of yours can manage beautifully, just see.’

And so they returned home, each wrapped up in his own thoughts, each weaving the future with the coming joy.

The match

2009-11-16T17:44:00.003+03:00

Aalekha sat staring at her computer screen. She was working on her project and enjoying it thoroughly when a call from her mother had broken her focus.

They had found some match for her. Match meaning guy-marriage material. Five years back her elder sister Ashwini had married a Bihari guy and trouble had started from then. She had been in her final year engineering then. Though her parents had accepted her sister’s decision, but in the community they were now on a different pedestal. The traditional conformists had shunned them and the modern thinkers shunned them too for her family was a very traditional-old values type. So here she was –Aalekha, an independent working lady, who earned her living yet had some old values(yes she went to temple every Monday and Friday, yes she touched her parents feet every morning). And although she loved to be independent; increasingly day by day she felt the need for a companion, someone to share with, laugh with, have kids with. But the problem was although she met quite a few men on her job, she didn’t like any. It would have been very good if she had liked someone, then the whole problem would have been sorted out but no. Now her parents were trying hard to find someone for her but ….

Some guys wanted her to quit her job (those were the old thought ones) and devote all her time to family. Then there were the modernists who didn’t understand her ‘godliness’. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t be a modern woman yet a devout one. Then there were the ones who rejected her because her sister had married a Bihari. Gosh in this day and age; did it matter. And then there was her sister who said love and living a life together were two different things. My god all this was so confusing.

Her mother had called to inform her that the next day she would be meeting a guy; a Doctor –a thoracic surgeon to be exact (what is a thoracic surgeon anyways she thought). And had asked her to go to a saloon and prep herself up before landing up at home. Hah as if she was a five year old to be decked up in frilly frocks to be exhibited up in front of friends. But to saloon she did go; after all how could she ignore the dictates of the high command.

No they were not meeting at home but in the confines of a hotel lobby, her father explained; ‘but Appa can we afford the coffee there’ and met with a sharp stare which scalded her more than a hot coffee.

So off they went , her mother in a Kanjeevaram and she in chiffon( which showed off her curves beautifully). And waited . The ‘marriage material came in a casual outfit (striped tee and jeans), his father ina ‘mundu’ and mother in a Kanjeevaram and Aalekha was optimistic (Aah a mix and match family like ours she thought.)

Over coffee-which the guy Dr. Vishnu bought, family history was exchanged, yes his elder brother too was a doctor-a pediatrician and yes he had married a Gujarati etc etc ( and Aalekha was ecstatic (Mix and match indeed) and her cheeks glowed. After sometime HE asked her out, and they went to the beach and spoke. He told what was his job(a thoracic surgeon was…..) and how he wanted a broad minded girl yet a traditionalist because you see he would be staying with his parents. He wanted to take care of them. He didn’t mind if she continued on her work but yes she will have to adjust with his parents (and now Aalekha could hear firecrackers bursting in her minds ear and she glowed some more).

She in turn told him about her failed attempts to find a guy and that she didn’t mind staying with his parents. But her parents didn’t have any sons so now and the she would like to visit them and look after their welfare.

Oh that was ok with him and he would surely try to be a son to them. Aalekha was stunned ‘try to be a son? Wow.

So she returned to her home and he to his and broke off the good news to their respective parents.

Next morning, Mrs Shasttry called and said that she wanted to meet Aalekha. And Aalekha started sweating; she remembered all the stories of dominating ma-in-laws. No she didn’t want to come to their place as she didn’t want to let the neighbor’s gossip nor did she want Aalekha to come to their place. Her daughter in law will come into the house only afer a proper griha pravesh. So she would be meeting her in a park and no, she was not supposed to tell Vishnu about this meet.

Aalekha was subdued. She didn’t know what to expect.

They sat on a bench and the ‘lady’ began to talk. ‘ I know Vishnu wants to stay with us after marriage but you being a modern career girl I wanted to know your opinion. I don’t want you to confirm now and then later have an argument everynow and then and make life hell for everyone. I have seen it happening in many families and don’t want that to happen in ours. Plus we are a devout family all festivals, vratas are observed. So if you have any objections tell me now and I will convince him to shift to another apartment.’ That was it pat, on the mark.

Aalekha was relieved actually. She had half expected the ‘Lady' to reject her but this was another problem altogether. As she was honest and straightforward, she too decided to be likewise.

No she didn’t mind staying with them as long as she had some space. She believed in living life together and yet would like to keep her friends, visit her parents and would have a career. And yes like them she too was very devout.

The lady smiled, not only her son but she too had met her match.

Break Free

2009-11-15T11:41:00.001+03:00

It’s a shrinking world
With super egos
And zero tolerance
No time for self
Much less for others.

Take time to breathe
To touch someones heart
To feel someone’s pain
To laugh at life’s misfortunes
To talk; to pray.

Break free,
from bondages
Open your heart
Embrace new thoughts
Empty the junk inside.

Do, do it today
Don’t let it rest for tomorrow
Lest it be too late.

BREAK FREE

Heroes all.....

2009-11-12T11:41:00.001+03:00

No, its not the Ambanis or the Des or the Bachchans who inspire me. It’s the common man in their ordinary circumstances with their infallible spirit; who inspire me. Have you ever observed your maid, who after toiling the whole day will still have a smile on her face?

I had a neighbor in Bhilai, who had polio in both of her legs. I remember her coming to our home to use our grinding stone (those were the days when the mixer was a ‘newcomer’) to prepare batter for idlis. Sitting down was difficult for her, but did she take our help, no. And such beautiful gowns she used to stitch on her manual sewing machine. She is no more now, but I still remember her in the act of grinding.

A Bengali family used to live in our servant quarters. My mother for reasons known only to her kept families in our servant quarters rather than servants. The lady had to endure pregnancy again and again in the hope of getting a son, when finally after the fifth daughter was born,she said no. There was quite an uproar but she stood firm. She made sure that each one of her five daughters went to school and to support them she did odd jobs, stitched baby clothes, quilts, etc. And the girls my, my; each one sharper than the other. I still remember their nick names-Mana, Takli, Teri, Teena, Bapon.

Here in Bahrain a Sri Lankan maid fell in love with an India tailor. They got married. Although they both know that she won’t be able to go to India or he to Sri Lanka and their chance of getting a Bahraini passport are even slimmer. But still they carry on caring, sharing living for today.

A Bangladeshi car cleaner who works from 7am to 2 am. He not only came down to Bahrain but in successive years has managed to bring his brothers too and who dreams of one day migrating to the EU because there is a scarcity of car cleaners there.

Yes such people do inspire me.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
What does make us tick anyways? For commoners its not always name and fame. It’s the spirit to survive, to defy all odds.

Limits

2009-11-10T08:46:00.001+03:00

There is so little we can do
Except to do our best
and forget the rest.

So many dreams
So many hopes,
but few will come true.

What is in our hands?
Except to do our best
and forget the rest.

The sky is high; the ocean is deep
Bur can I reach the sky
and touch the ocean floor?

What else can we do?
Except do our best
and forget the rest

Confused!!

2009-11-07T08:53:00.003+03:00

I am confused!!

Read an article about a nanny sedating her ward and then giving him on rent to beggars, while the unsuspecting parents were busy at their respective workplaces.

I don’t have a proper word for the array of emotions I felt. ‘Numbed’ is more like it.

The confusion is not about the nanny or the events that occurred. But what is a woman supposed to do. As the times move on, we want to be treated on par with the men, we get a good education, we work, we raise a family, but are we able to do justice to any of our duties/ responsibilities.

Yes it feels good to be standing on your own feet, financially independent, to talk sensibly with other people about any topic, but then doesn’t any woman feel a little bit of guilt now and then whether she is really doing justice or not.

When I think back of my childhood days, of my mother who was a homemaker, but still was always busy. Cooking cleaning, preparing pickles, papads in summer, knitting in the winters, gardening, so much she used to pack in her days, and alongside she used to raise three children teaching nurturing in her own way. And now I see my cousins/ friends managing their careers and their homes. Yes their dependency on canned foods or on hired help is more, but so what they have the best of both worlds.

Then there are ego hassles. Earlier times, a woman just put in her opinion and whether her wishes were adhered or ignored; she just accepted it as her fate. But we; we argue and argue some more and whether we win or we lose it does leave a bad taste in the mouth. For the man will think how she dare question my authority and the woman will think I am no ignoramus fool to accept whatever he says.

Some years back my friend had remarked that the earlier system of marrying girls young was very right. She would adjust in her marital home with ease, accepting all its traditions with no questions asked as she knew no other life. Her ‘pati’ was indeed ‘parmeshwar’ and whatever he decided was the best. While she; concentrated on the home front. Although I had argued against her thoughts, now sometimes I do feel she was right. Each had his boundaries drawn, no overlapping of duties, no ego hassles.

But in the present age, is it possible? There is no demarcation of duties now, mother is busy so father will feed a child, the laundry is on the way, so man will pick the clothes, share market is down so woman will go ahead and buy some shares, the kid has to be dropped to the taekwondo class, the woman will drive the kid down to the class. And in the present financially tough times, can a family be really run on a single income; that is if you want a certain standard of living.

But for a working woman to look after kids is really difficult. It’s okay if you have a joint family or reliable help or reliable day care centers. Here in the Gulf there are many companies which give only 45 days maternity leave. I shudder to think of small babies left in the care of helps or crèches. There are some who after a month or two pack their babies of to India to their parents. And bring them back when they are mobile. In a way they are correct. At least the child gets the loving care of grandparents. But then don’t the parents miss their child’s first crawl, first tooth, first wobbly walks….precious memories.

And then we say that we spend quality time with our kids. What exactly is quality? Is time spent lolling around, having pillow fights or playing make believe games -quality? Can quality be 'quantified'.

There are some who take a break while bringing up a baby and take on a job when the kids start school or are a bit independent. But then they miss in their seniority, their career growth is a bit stunted.

Which brings me back to my confusion; what is a woman supposed to do?

SHOCK!!

2009-11-01T19:19:00.000+03:00

Nimit was perplexed. This was the second time this week that he had come home to a locked house. True he had faith in Neethi but this time he had been home on a whim, just to check….

Just two days back he had come out of a meeting to find two missed calls from Neethi on his mobile, as his home was on the way to his next destination, he decided on a quick visit to find a locked door. But then Neethi had come within 10 minutes but was very evasive as to where she had been. Today too he was going for a meeting and decided to just check and again a locked door.

‘Is she already bored of me? Hell, its not even a year since we got married.’ he thought. Her mobile was switched off and because he was getting late he proceeded to his meeting.

And when he asked her about his whereabouts, she was evasive, ’Oh I had just been to get groceries ‘, she said. But he had observed her dropping something from her purse and then discreetly putting it away. ‘What’s happening?’, he thought.

The next day while coming out of his office building, he bumped into Raj, his childhood friend; they decided to have a cup of coffee and catching up on the news. After the usual chit chat, Raj asked,’ and Nimit how is married life?’ ‘Oh good, good, Neethi is just the type of partner that I wanted in life’, he replied.

‘Oh’, said Raj

‘Why? Why that oh’, asked Nimit

‘Just that I saw her with some guy at the Mall near my office with a guy, quite intimate they were. No, I don’t mean to make you anxious, just thought that you should know’, he replied.

Nimit thought that it must be Sudesh, her cousin but his suspicions had increased.

Wednesday was Nimits birthday, his first after marriage. He was looking forward towards it. Last year Neethi had made a beautiful bouquet and a handmade card for him. The card was so lovely that he had kept it safe in his wardrobe locker.

But nothing, she did not even wish him, he got so many SMS’s wishing him on his birthday but the normally inquisitive Neethi didn’t even ask who was messaging him.

Raj wished him around 10.30 am and then said,’Ahem I don’t want to be a spoilsport but I am in the coffee shop of Arcade and just saw Neethi taking the elevator to the 5th floor with that guy.’

‘What?’, screamed Nimit.

‘Yes, I followed them and they went to Room 505, Sorry yaar I just couldn’t stop myself….’ But found himself talking to a dead phone.

Nimit rushed in a rage to rhe Arcade and reached room 505. Banged the door, found it open and went in. He found Neethi, in a very pretty pink sari (his favorite).

Where is he, where is he?, he screamed.

‘Where is who, dear?’, she asked.

This maddened him and he rushed from one corner to another, searched below the bed, in the bathroom, just then his mobile rang.

‘Did you meet her?’, asked Raj.

‘Yes but I couldn’t meet the *******’, he said.

‘ha ha ha, enjoy your birthday, dear’, Raj said and hung up while Neethi came forward and hugged him.

It was much much later that they started talking.

‘What is all this Neethi?’, he asked.

‘I wanted to give you a birthday present which you would not forget. So I have been working as a freelance artist for one of the weeklies. Saved whatever I earned so that I could afford this room. Then called Raj and asked his help, he liked this idea so much that he agreed to help me. But tell me, did you really think that I would betray you.’

‘ No I had faith but yes I was jealous……’, the rest of the words were lost as they again got busy.

Off to school.................

2009-10-27T20:55:00.002+03:00

Daddy and mummy were busy with some forms. The current problem was which nursery school to send Jeet to.

‘Well', Daddy said, 'I think the New Age school is good, it has a lot of extra curricular activities especially sports.’

‘But currently we should look at a school which will give a good base. Montessori system will be good. He is in his formative stage so we shoul see some school which gives him a good foundation.’ Answered mummy and so they kept on discussing.

And in the night, Octo asked, 'what is a school?’

‘School is a place where education is given', answered Pinku.

‘And what is education?’

‘Education is a lot of things, it means to read and to write, it also means learning to behave in a group, discipline, it also means having friends and playing with them’, elaborated Owly.

‘Seems like a yuck place to me’, said Hooty

‘No, Hooty its actually a fun place to be. You get to learn so many things in school, like why the sun shines, the stars twinkle, why we have to eat etc. Also you learn crafts, drawing and best of all you learn to play a lot of games’ said Pinku.

‘If that is so then why don’t we go to school?’, this was Greeny.

‘Hmmm', said Owly ‘that’s because we live in the open and nature teaches us a lot of things. Like when the morning rays touch our skin, we know that its time to rise. When we feel hungry we know that we have to go and hunt for our food. We also learn to store food for the cold winter months, this teaches us discipline too. When the bigger animals come to prey we learn to defend ourselves. We learn that we have to stay in a group to defend ourselves.’

‘And yes when we stay in a group we learn to share and grow, we play together and grow together. Humans live in closed spaces and so to learn all these things they have to go to school,’ added Pinkoo.

'Hmm so does it mean that now Jeet will go to school, learn new things, have new friends and forget us,’ this was Hooty who lived in perpetual fear that Jeet will forget him.

‘Partially yes, Hooty. Jeet is growing up he will find new things, have new friends, his interests will change and yes he will slowly lose interest in us. But yes we are his first friends and he will always draw comfort on seeing us.

Neethis Diwali

2009-10-21T09:28:00.001+03:00

Neethi was at her wits end. It was her first Diwali and she wanted to make it special for Nimit, her husband. He was away on an official tour but before his return she wanted to make everything ready.She wanted to gift him something too and that was her real worry. She wanted to buy something with her 'own' money. But being a housewife how could she do that.

She thought of decorating the diyas, maybe doing something will give her some solutions, she thought. She had recently torn a silk saree. They had been for a wedding and as usual she had been careless, her 'pallu' was caught on a nail and it tore. She planned to get a salwar kurta stitched with that saree. But she took the pallu, used the border to outline the rims of the diya. Then she took some ornamental mirrors and stuck it in the middle.Some she decorated with glitter pen, some with colored rice grains.In all she decorated 18 diyas to put around the house.

She had already cleaned the entire house. So she got busy with making some laddus and savories. Then she put in some nice rangoli at the doorstep. In the drawing room she made a rangoli and then kept an earthern bowl; filled it with water and put some flowers in it. The sweet scent of flowers filled the air......

Nimit was supposed to come in the morning on diwali day, so she had hoped that he would be able to have the traditional oil bath, but he got delayed and came in about 7 pm. As soon as he came near his house he was stumped, all around there were beautiful diyas and when Neethi opened the door the smell of flowers wafted out. He stepped in to see a sparkling, beautifully kept house and the Dining table laden with goodies; all to his liking.

'Oh Neethi such a surprise. Such a beautiful gift you have given me. Thanks for making this Diwali so special, and he hugged her.

And Neethi... she was surprised too. She was upset that she couldn't buy anything for Nimit. She had never realised that taking efforts to beautify your home or to cook lovingly what your partner liked were also special gifts. Very few people take care of others happiness and she was one of them.

Parallel Lives

2009-10-12T09:21:00.000+03:00

Bhavani sighed as she finished with a patient. It had been a long morning five patients back to back and now her back was aching, ‘oh Lord I need a physiotherapist myself’, she thought.

It had been roughly 25 months now since she came down to the Middle East as a physiotherapist in one of the renowned Hospitals. Four years back her husband Ganesh had had an accident and was now confined to a wheelchair. He used to work as a Sales representative earlier. The same company had given him a desk job now, but at a lesser salary. Of course they were kind enough to give him a job but the salary was just not enough for an expensive Bengaluru. Her widowed mother-in- law with her old age ailments stayed with them and her daughter Aditi was put in a good school. All that needed money and she had decided to come down here for a couple of years to support her family.

Salary was alright better than India that too non taxable, accommodation was provided; she just had to concentrate on her work. But the separation from her family was very difficult, especially from her growing daughter. She wanted to be with her during her adolescence years to guide her but…. True her m-i-l was there but still.

Her sister in law stayed close by and she was a big help. But as usually the case is; people think that being in Gulf means you are on a gold mine and every year she expected some trinket or the other. For Bhavani struggling to make ends meet it was difficult. She was afraid to say No to her lest she poisoned Ganesh’s mind against her or incurred her wrath on Aditi.

Then there was their house, quite an old house which her father in law had built. And now it needed repairs. An initial estimate was of 5 lakhs that too if only the bare necessities were looked into. Oh God, how will I manage? She had started taking private patients. As most people in the Gulf she too had split timings. Four hours in the morning, five in the evening. Afternoons were free. So she had developed a clientele of her own and to start off was charging Ten Dinars an hour. But still it was difficult.

‘Bhavani a patient for you’, called in the floor clerk with the file and she came out of her reverie.
A woman in an abaya came in with a frail woman alongside her; obviously her maid.

‘Hullooo Doctor, she is my maid Siya, she has got pain in her hands, I took her to the Orthopedic Doctor, he says, nothing wrong with her so I brought her to you, give her some exercise. Make her Ok’, she said in her Arabic-English. Bhavani had stopped informing people that she was not a Doctor only a physio.

On an initial look Bhavani could make out that she was under nourished and looking at the dark circles aound her eyes, she could make out that she was over worked too. ‘Sure madam, the session will take around an hour if you have some work you can finish off and then pick her up.’ She said. The lady liked this suggestion and went off.

‘Siya she asked gently do you know Hindi?’, she asked gently. Siya nodded her head and started sobbing. ‘ Why what happened', asked Bhavani.

‘Nothing Doctor, it has been a long time since anybody spoke gently to me and I could not control my tears’

‘Hmm can you tell me your routine Siya,’ she enquired.

‘I get up in the morning around 5 Dr., and till midnight I have non stop work. For cooking there is another maid but cleaning the 5 bedrooms, majlis, hall, dining room is my job. Then handling the four kids and their work is also mine. Madams numerous works are also my department. I get exhausted Doctor.’

‘And do they give you enough to eat.’

‘Madam keeps an eagle eye and rations the food to us. I am 44 now Doctor and feeling weak. From some days I am not able to carry Madams son who is a bit heavy, so she got angry with me’ and she started sobbing again.

‘Siya we can complain to Labour ministry or to our embassy that you are being overworked you know.’

‘Oh no Doctor please don’t. I have a big family to support. My husband is a rickshaw driver, we have two kids. My In-laws stay with us. My brother in laws kids also stay with us as they are in a village and no good schools there. Madam is harsh but better than others at least she doesn’t beat me and then gives me nice tips and clothes during Eid. My daughters are wearing the clothes that Madam gives, please do not complain,’ she started pleading.

Bhavani sighed,’ are our lives any different? True I am a professional; she is not but beneath the surface we are kindred souls, both struggling against adverse conditions.’

We, the expats.

2009-10-06T08:43:00.000+03:00

I read an article on Vinay Dewan who is the owner, Chairman,CEO of Bramco, Bahrain. He describes himself as an LPHP person meaning Low Profile, High performance person and speaks mainly in Hindi.

Now Bramco Group is into limestone, quarrying and crushing, road building, blasting, demolition, excavation, reclamation and it even has a non stick cookware division. Recently it has bagged the contract for marble and granite stonework for New Delhi International Airport. Apart from generating revenue, providing employment, Bramco has proved to be an emissary for Indo Bahrain ties. Bramco is now operating in KSA, Oman, Qatar, UAE, UK, USA and Germany. Impressive isn’t it?

In Bahrain itself there are many Indians who have proved their mettle, like Dadabhai, Devjis and many more.

In the Gulf itself and in the Western world our art, culture, religion, Upanishads, Purans, Yoga everything is highly appreciated.

But still why is the common man/ migrant worker paid less than his western counterpart but most important-why don’t we get the same respect as them?

Is it because years of being dominated by the Mughals, the Portuguese, the British, made us more tolerant, or is it because our financial needs are such that we have to bow and bear or is it because our own people plot against their own country men for their petty gains?

In my opinion it is neither. We are oppressed because we allow ourselves to be oppressed.

Have pride in what you do; have pride in who you are and above all…………………..
BE PROUD TO BE AN INDIAN

JAI HIND

Morning Walk

2009-10-03T08:30:00.000+03:00

I am in the danger of possessing arms like Salman Khan and so decided to include morning walk too in my exercise routine.

Actually walk is just an excuse, I love to be out in the morning, breathing in the fresh air, looking at the morning sights and sounds, the chirruping of birds, the people around with their morning chores; all inspire me. My battle with the bulge has been going on for years now and I decided on just having a good time and doing what I like to do.

I begin from the east side of our building which faces the officers Club of the Police (They call it Ministry of Interior/Security or something like that) and the PMO, South takes me to the Old Palace, taking a right from the Palace brings me to the garden with the fountain and right again brings me to the Friday Mosque and so on. No I am not trying to unveil the geographical location of my building just that for a person who enjoys the sights and sounds, there is a lot in this route to absorb and emanate.

The first day that I started to walk I was observed from top to bottom by the workers waiting for their morning transport, by the car cleaners, the workers of the GCCC ( that is the garbage removal company). Firstly in my area very few women go out for walks that too morning walks are an absolute no -no. In Bahrain and I suspect in the Gulf you have to look out for you attire especially in the early morning and late evening, lest your occupation and status will be misinterpreted and you will be met with endless honking. But then I don’t mind the stares, by now I am used to people staring at me; and have now started taking pride that its my ‘personality’ which makes people stare at me.

Contrary to my belief that the roads will be empty there were a lot many people on the road and a lot many cars too, but what was scary was the way the cars were driven, the not so busy roads prompted the drivers to drive recklessly and I preferred to walk at the rightest side of the footpath.

There are a lot many Indian, Filipino men/ walkers on the road but it is the British whom I like the most, they will smile and mouth a ‘good morning’.

Its fun to watch the workers waiting for their transport with bread in one hand and tea on the other discussing their schedule, the GCCC garbage disposal truck lifting the garbage bins and moving off; after it moves a worker will run behind to collect the garbage which has flown around. This act really pleased me, to collect the loose garbage so that the road is absolutely clean is really remarkable. Each morning the road inside the compound of the Old Palace are washed, which makes me wonder how many people and revenue is required to run these palaces.

The dew on the grass always looks very inviting to me and the first day of my walk I just wanted to remove my shoes and run about on the grass around the fountain, but at the nth moment I remembered my size and my gender and stopped myself. As such people around me were giving me the ‘lunatic’ looks as I was walking alone. Such an act and someone would have surely called for an ambulance from the Salmaniya Mental Hospital.

Few days into my walk and a friend noticed me and later asked whether it was ‘safe’ to walk. Till that time I didn’t have an ounce of fear, but the very next day I was on the look out for eve teasers and thieves. The slightest sound would take me to the edge of the footpath and two or three fellow walkers had to endure my scathing looks.

And so I continue my morning walks as a solo woman walker.

What is the right Blend?

2009-09-27T09:01:00.000+03:00

My blogger friend Evelyn's son has recently left for UK for further studies. In my earlier post she had mentioned that although she misses him a lot, she couldn't be selfish and hold on to him. Very true; for our child to grow and advance we have to let go; let them fly high and search their own horizons.

This statement of hers brought out a lot many thoughts and memories, of my parents who sacrificied their needs to fulfil our wants, of Partho uncle and aunty (my guardians in Mysore) who gave their unconditional love,of my sister who sacrificed her own career goals so that her younger siblings would have better opportunities and so on. Till date I have seen primarily parents or elders in the act of giving and seldom at the receiving end.

On the other end I see magazine articles advising that its good to be selfless but also to be a little selfish and pamper self. That too is true. At the end of a long day it does feel good to have a pedicure or to read a book or watch a movie.

I have also seen parents who have been selfish, who have shaped their child's life so; that lifelong their child is tied on to them, without his own identiry. or parents who as soon as their kid turns 18, ask them to go out and make theri own life and just not bother them.

So what is the right blend of selflessness and selfishness. is there an optimum blend?

Somedays back I had received a mail, it was actually a speech given by Mr.Subroto Bagchi, the CEO of Mindtree. Although that speech had a lot of lessons, the one I liked most was the line told by his mother about not bothering about her and to go and Kiss the world. Awesome!!!

I have attached that speech here.

A MOVING STORY BY SUBHROTO BAGCHI - CEO OF 'MINDTREE'
Go, kiss the world!This speech was delivered to the Class of 2006 at the IIM, Bangalore on defining success by Subroto Bagchi CEO MindTree.
I was the last child of a small-time government servant, in a family of five brothers. My earliest memory of my father is as that of a District Employment Officer in Koraput, Orissa. It was, and remains as back of beyond as you can imagine. There was no electricity; no primary school nearby and water did not flow out of a tap. As a result, I did not go to school until the age of eight; I was home-schooled. My father used to get transferred every year. The family belongings fit into the back of a jeep - so the family moved from place to place and without any trouble, my Mother would set up an establishment and get us going. Raised by a widow who had come as a refugee from the then East Bengal, she was a matriculate when she married my Father. My parents set the foundation of my life and the value system, which makes me what I am today and largely, defines what success means to me today. As District Employment Officer, my father was given a jeep by the government.. There was no garage in the Office, so the jeep was parked in our house. My father refused to use it to commute to the office. He told us that the jeep is an expensive resource given by the government- he reiterated to us that it was not "his jeep" but the government's jeep. Insisting that he would use it only to tour the interiors, he would walk to his office on normal days.. He also made sure that we never sat in the government jeep - we could sit in it only when it was stationary.
That was our early childhood lesson in governance - a lesson that corporate managers learn the hard way, some never do.
The driver of the jeep was treated with respect due to any other member of my Father's office. As small children, we were taught not to call him by his name. We had to use the suffix 'dada' whenever we were to refer to him in public or private. When I grew up to own a car and a driver> by the name of Raju was appointed - I repeated the lesson to my two small daughters. They have, as a result, grown up to call Raju, 'Raju Uncle' - very different from many of their friends who refer to their family driver, as 'my driver'. When I hear that term from a school- or college-going person, I cringe.
To me, the lesson was significant - you treat small people with more respect than how you treat big people. It is more important to respect your subordinates than your superiors.
Our day used to start with the family huddling around my Mother's chulha - an earthen fire place she would build at each place of posting where she would cook for the family. There was neither gas, nor electrical stoves.The morning routine started with tea. As the brew was served, Father would ask us to read aloud the editorial page of The Statesman's 'muffosil' edition - delivered one day late. We did not understand much of what we were reading. But the ritual was meant for us to know that the world was larger than Koraput district and the English I speak today, despite having studied in an Oriya medium school, has to do with that routine. After reading the newspaper aloud, we were told to fold it neatly. Father taught us a simple lesson.
He used to say, "You should leave your newspaper and your toilet, the way you expect to find it". That lesson was about showing consideration to others. Business begins and ends with that simple precept. Being small children, we were always enamored with advertisements in the newspaper for transistor radios - we did not have one. We saw other people having radios in their homesand each time there was an advertisement of Philips, Murphy or Bush radios, we would ask Father when we could get one. Each time, my Father would reply that we did not needone because he already had five radios - alluding to his five sons. We also did not have a house of our own and would occasionally ask Father as to when, like others, we would live in our own house. He would give a similar reply," We do not need a house of our own. I already own five houses".
His replies did not gladden our hearts in that instant. Nonetheless, we learnt that it is important not to measure personal success and sense of well being through material possessions. Government houses seldom came with fences. Mother and I collected twigs and built a small fence. After lunch, my Mother would never sleep. She would take her kitchen utensils and with those she and I would dig the rocky, white ant infested surrounding. We planted flowering bushes. The white ants destroyed them. My mother brought ash from her chulha and mixed it in the earth and we planted the seedlings all over again. This time, they bloomed. At that time, my father's transfer order came. A few neighbors told my mother why she was taking so much pain to beautify a government house, why she was planting seeds that would only benefit the next occupant. My mother replied that it did not matter to her that she would not see the flowers in full bloom. She said, "I have to create a bloom in a desert and whenever I am given a new place, I must leave it more beautiful than what I had inherited".
That was my first lesson in success. It is not about what you create for yourself, it is what you leave behind that defines success.
My mother began and galvanized the nation in to patriotic fervor. Other than reading out the newspaper to my mother, I had no clue about how I could be part of the action. So, after reading her the newspaper, every day I would land up near the University's water tank, which served the community. I would spend hours under it, imagining that there could be spies who would come to poison the water and I had to watch for them. I would daydream about catching one and how the next day, I would be featured in the newspaper. Unfortunately for me, the spies at war ignored the sleepy town of Bhubaneswar and I never got a chance to catch one in action.. Yet, that act unlocked my imagination.
Imagination is everything. If we can imagine a future, we can create it, if we can create that future, others will live in it. That is the essence of success.
Over the next few years, my mother's eyesight dimmed but in me she created a larger vision, a vision with which I continue to see the world and, I sense, through my eyes, she was seeing too.. As the next few years unfolded, her vision deteriorated and she was operated for cataract. I remember, when she returned after her operation and she saw my face clearly for the first time,> she was astonished. She said, "Oh my God, I did not know you were so fair".. I remain mighty pleased with that adulation even till date.. Within weeks of getting her sight back, she developed a corneal ulcer and, overnight, became blind in both eyes. That was 1969. She died in 2002. In all those 32 years of living with blindness, she never complained about her fate even once. Curious to know what she saw with blind eyes, I asked her once if she sees darkness. She> replied, "No, I do not see darkness. I only see light even with my eyes closed".
Until she was eighty years of age, she did her morning yoga everyday, swept her own room and washed her own clothes.
To me, success is about the sense of independence; it is about not seeing the world but seeing the light.
Over the many intervening years, I grew up, studied, joined the industry and began to carve my life's own journey. I began my life as a clerk in a government office, went on to become a Management Trainee with the DCM group and eventually found my life's calling with the IT industry when fourth generation computers came to India in 1981.. Life took me places - I worked with outstanding people, challenging assignments and traveled all over the world.
In 1992, while I was posted in the US, I learnt that my father, living a retired life with my eldest brother, had suffered a third degree burn injury and was admitted in the Safderjung Hospital in Delhi. I flew back to attend to him -he remained for a few days in critical stage, bandaged from neck to toe
> The Safderjung Hospital is a cockroach infested, dirty, inhuman place. The overworked, under-resourced sisters in the burn ward are both victims and perpetrators of dehumanized life at its worst. One morning, while attending to my Father, I realized that the blood bottle was empty and> fearing that air would go into his vein, I asked the attending nurse to change it. She bluntly told me to do it myself. In that horrible theater of death, I was in pain and frustration and anger. Finally when she relented and came, my Father opened his eyes and murmured to her, "Why have you not gone home yet?" Here was a man on his deathbed but more concerned about the overworked nurse than his own state. I was stunned at his stoic self.
There I learnt that there is no limit to how concerned you can be for another human being and what the limit of inclusion is you can create. My father died the next day. He was a man whose success was defined by his principles, his frugality, his universalism and his sense of inclusion.
Above all, he taught me that success is your ability to rise above your discomfort, whatever may be your current state. You can, if you want, raise your consciousness above your immediate surroundings. Success is not about building material comforts - the transistor that he never could buy or the house that he never owned. His success was about the legacy he left, the memetic continuity of his ideals that grew beyond the smallness of a ill-paid, unrecognized government servant's world.. My father was a fervent believer in the British Raj. He sincerely doubted the capability of the post-independence Indian political parties to govern the country. To him, the lowering of the Union Jack was a sad event. My Mother was the exact opposite. When Subhash Bose quit the Indian National Congress and came to Dacca, my mother, then a schoolgirl, garlanded him. She learnt to spin khadi and joined an underground movement that trained her in using daggers and swords. Consequently, our household saw diversity in the political outlook of the two. On major issues concerning the world, the Old Man and the Old Lady had differing opinions.
In them, we learnt the power of disagreements, of dialogue and the essence of living with diversity in thinking.
Success is not about the ability to create a definitive dogmatic end state; it is about the unfolding of thought processes, of dialogue and continuum.
Two years back, at the age of eighty-two, Mother had a paralytic stroke and was lying in a government hospital in Bhubaneswar. I flew down from the US where I was serving my second stint, to see her. I spent two weeks with her in the hospital as she remained in a paralytic state. She was neither getting better nor moving on. Eventually I had to return to work. While leaving her behind, I kissed her face. In that paralytic state and a garbled voice, she said,
"Why are you kissing me, go kiss the world." Her river was nearing its journey, at the onfluence of life and death, this woman who came to India as a refugee, raised by a widowed Mother, no more educated than high school, married to an anonymous government servant whose last salary was Rupees Three Hundred, robbed of her eyesight by fate and crowned by adversity was telling me to go and kiss the world! Success to me is about Vision. It is the ability to rise above the immediacy of pain. It is about imagination. It is about sensitivity to small people. It is about building inclusion. It is about connectedness to a larger world existence. It is about personal tenacity. It is about giving> back more to life than you take out of it. It is about creating extra-ordinary success with ordinary lives.
Thank you very much; I wish you good luck and God's speed. Go!> kiss the world.

A Little

2009-09-27T08:20:00.000+03:00

A little safety;
A little security.

A little hope;
A little cheer.

A little health;
A little wealth.

A little sunshine;

A little shade.

A little love;
A little respect.

Do I ask for more?

Parting Pains

2009-09-23T09:12:00.000+03:00

Parenthood changes your perspective of having fun. Before having kids we plan weekends aimed to relax ourselves or generally having a good time. After having a kid, its more of entertaining him/her, especially here in the Gulf. Small houses and lack of open spaces, compel us to take our kid/s out to play, maybe some park or indoor entertainment areas.

And so it was that the main objective during the Eid holidays was to take our son out to play. Yesterday being the last day, took him out to the open play area adjoining Kids Kingdom, Manama Corniche. There are a number of 'activities there, the rides are mostly for kids aged 3 years and above. So didn't let him go for those as he is only 30 months now. Finally saw a trampoline and allowed him in. As he is small we were allowed in the enclosure and so we stood watching him jump about.

When the time was up he demanded to be allowed in the toy train, we did, half expecting him to howl in a short time. But he didn't. He sat quite majestically and went on his rounds, half embarrassed by our waves and cheers. And in that moment all the past 39 months of his existence flashed by my eyes.( I am counting the 9 months of his being in my tummy too)

The real question now is whether he will be the one to cry on his first day to school or will it be me bawling my head out. Now that remains to be seen.............................

Colors

2009-09-19T09:30:00.000+03:00

‘Ouch my whole body is aching’, said Pinku.
‘Why Pinku?’ asked Toady.

‘Jeet cuddled and threw me around so much that I can barely do anything. Each part of me is aching terribly’, he said with a sigh.

‘But you are so lucky, Pinku, he loves you so much that he cuddles and wrestles with you. Me, he barely sees nowadays’, said Hooty in a small voice.

‘there he goes again with his complaints’, remarked Doggy, while Octo and Greeny chorused together- Hooty is being green, Hooty is being green…

‘What do you mean by that, what is being green mean?’ asked Hooty.

‘They mean that you are green with envy’, said Owly.

‘Green with envy?’, asked Hooty

Yes when a person is jealous we say that he is green or green with envy’, answered Owly.

‘Oh that’s nice, so the color green is linked with envy’, said Hooty

‘Yes’, said Pinku,’ there are some other colours too which are linked with some other meanings’.
‘oh tell me, tell me about them’, asked Hooty.

‘Wll there is white. White is the color of the clouds and the color of dove. White also symbolizes peace’, said Toady.

‘Have you seen a traffic light, Hooty’, asked Doggy.

‘Yes I have seen one in one of Jeets book’

‘Well a traffic light is used to control traffic on a busy road, there are three colors on a traffic light, do you know which all?’

‘Yes I do I do… Green, yellow and Red, answered Hooty.

‘Well, the red tells us to stop, the yellow to be cautious and green is to go or to start.’, said Doggy.

‘But just now you told green is for envy, now you are telling me that green is to start.’ Said a confused Hooty.

‘Well, green is used to signify envy but in a traffic light it means to start’, said the wise Owly.

‘Tell me some more, some more,’ said the eager Hooty.

‘Hmm blue is the color of the sky and the ocean but its also linked with sadness, like when someone is sad; he says that-I am feeling blue’, said Octo

‘And black is a color of authority’, added Greeny

‘Hmm is that why when Jeet’s father goes for some important meeting he wears a black Suit,’ asked Hooty.

‘Yes you can say so’, said Pinku.

‘Tell me more, more, said an eager Hooty.

‘My dear Hooty, for the time being this is enough, why don’t you try to remember these at present, and we will tell you more when you have learnt this fully’, said Toady.

‘Owww’, said Hooty and started giggling.

‘Why what happened, asked Doggy.

‘Ocot and Greeny are green, does it mean that they are always jealous’, said Hooty with a twinkle in his eye.

And everyone smiled except the two Octopuses.

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For more on Jeet and his animal farm check on http://bhagyashree-searchingself.blogspot.com/2009/08/new-addition.html

Tapaka Neethi

2009-09-13T17:59:00.000+03:00

Neethi was busy getting the batter ready for pesarattu*. Her husband was returning after an official tour. Being a vegetarian, he never could get good food while travelling and he just loved pesarattus. Humming a tune she added salt to the batter when the vessel tipped and fell; she cried out’Devada’ before catching the vessel just as it was about to touch floor. ‘Uff’, she said to herself,’ saved right on time’ and brushed the sweat off her forehead.

It had always been like that. Things just happened to fall of her hand. So much that in grannys place she was banned from the kitchen. It was an old house with thatched roof and everyone was afraid that if she went into the kitchen she might burn the whole house down. Her brother used to call her ‘Tapaka’Neethi. Tapaka being the Telugu word for firecracker. For wherever she went she would be accompanied with a bang and a burst.

During childhood she could never steal chocolates from the kitchen as invariably something would fall and her mother would come to know of her antics. After marriage initially her husband Nimit would arrive home and check if she had any burn marks or cut marks. Nowadays he would arrive and check if everything was intact.

‘I never do anything deliberately, it just happens.’ She thought.

After having his fill of pesarattus; Nimit called out’ See Neethi what I have got for you’, and he took out a beautiful ceramic bowl. I got it from an exhibition. Its quite expensive but the craftsmanship is exquisite. You can use it for special occasions. But please do be careful and store it properly.’ It was a beautiful bowl and she kept it on top of the showcase where her hands normally could not reach.

‘Neethi see, there is a cookery competition organized by the ladies club. Why don’t you take part,’ asked Nimit early the next morning browsing through the newspaper.
‘Me?’
‘Yes, why not, you are a good cook,’
‘But what shall I make?’
‘Hmmm. Why not that capsicum raita* in the salad section? The smoked capsicum with the cumin and peanut powder gives it a distinctive flavor. And who knows its simplicity might win over the judges. Also you have a lovely bowl to present it in.’

Neethi liked Nimit’s suggestion and so sent her entry for the competition

The day before the competition, she stood over the chair to take down the bowl, when crash it went. Nimit came running to find that the bowl previously one was now in four quadrants.
‘That’s it Neethi, never am I going to buy you anything again. Can’t you handle anything properly', he screamed and shut himself upin the study.

With tears streaming down her cheeks she began to clear away the mess when the telephone rang and she found her brother on the other side,’Annayya’ she called out and again there was a fresh bout of tears. ’What happened’, he asked and she recounted the whole story.

Her brother just could not control his laughter.
‘Annayya, Nimit is so angry’
“Give him some time and he will come around’
‘But how will I serve my Pacchadi tomorrow,’ she asked.
‘Hmm you will have to be innovative’ he said

Afterwards she went for a walk to clear her mind. After a brisk walk she stood below the jackfruit tree. It was the only tree left in the colony, that too because Mr. Burman loved Jackfruits and refused to let it be cut. She looked at the tree and its leaves and some memories of childhood flitted by. Their neighbor Mrs. Kamath would weave small cups with four leaves of the jackfruit tree and steam idlis in it. She still could smell the aroma of the idlis. ‘Eureka, she thought why don’t I wove a cup similarly for my raita. It would look lovely and would be eco friendly too. Only thing the cup should not have any gaps or the raita would seep through.

So she took some leaves back home to find Nimit still in a foul mood, ’And what are the leaves for? Do you want to make a bonfire now and burn the whole house down, is it?’ She hurriedly went and hid the leaves in a corner.

Next day with a lot of trial and error she could make a cup that would not fall and would not spill. Then she roasted the capsicum slowly over a fire and got the salad done.

At 4 p.m. she got ready and left for the venue. Nimit who was still in a bad mood refused to come for the event. For presentations she put a banana leaf and then kept the leaf cuo over it. on one corner of the banan leaf she arranged some flowers and on the other the ingredients of the salad. The participants had to present the item with the recipe. So she had written the recipe on chart paper with a quill using vegetable dye. The salad she put in the cup just before the gong for the competition was rung.

The judges came and stood before Neethi, one of them asked about the procedure while the rest tasted the dish. Then the second judge asked about her unique presentation.’ I wanted to present it in an economic and eco friendly way. Hence I used this cup. When the use of this cup is over, it can be thrown in our garden. It disintegrates completely. Or it can be used as fodder.’

The judges were visibly impressed.

When the judges moved away she too mingled with the rest of the participants and made many friends but looking at their exquisite recipes she realized that her entry was too simple to gather attention. And so when the results were announced, she was not surprised when she didn’t win any prize.

‘Now I would like to make a special mention for a unique presentation, which is economic and eco friendly’, the MC announced,’ the judges would like to give a certificate of appreciation for innovative presentation; and it goes to Mrs. Neethi Nimit’. And Neethi was called on stage to receive the award. From the dias she saw Nimit in the audience giving her a standing ovation.

The next day Nimit arrived from work with a huge bag. ‘What’s in this bag, Nimit?’, asked Neethi.

‘I had been to the outskirts for a survey and found some wonderful flora. I thought with your tendency to break things, maybe we could use these to beautify our home’ and out tumbled an assortment of leaves and twigs.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Notes:-
Tapaka-A Telugu word for firecrackers
Devada-A telugu term for God
Annayya- ATelugu term for elder brother
Pacchadi- salad
Pesarattu-A type of dosa made with green lentils and raw rice. Its usually stuffed with upma and served with ginger chutney ( An Andhra speciality)

Capsicum raita- Capsicum is charred over charcoal or on the gas burner. When it is cooked, the burnt skin is removed, washed and chopped. To this is added roasted peanut powder, cumin powder, red chilli powder, grated coconut salt and thick curds. Usually garnished with coriander leaves.

The jackfruit leaf cup called as Khotte in Konkani and a very common way of steaming idlis amongst Konkanis. In earlier days when the there were joint families, the ladies would sit and make these cups while exchanging gossip. These cups were later given as fodder to the cows.

Turnaround

2009-09-07T10:02:00.000+03:00

Anandi returned to her hotel suite, tired, exhausted but ecstatic and no her happiness was not just because of a job well done.

Her mind flitted to a time 15 years back. She was sitting in her room at her parental house. The mehendi ceremony had taken place the previous evening and her wedding was the day after. The henna in her hand had colored beautifully and everyone had teased her that her would be husband loved her a lot. It was common belief that if the henna colored nicely, it meant that the bride would be loved a lot in her in-laws place. She blushed at this thought but was very happy when there was a knock and she found her fiance Sanjay at the door.

‘Sanjay? Hi!! But we are not supposed to meet till tomorrow’, she said

‘Yes, Anu but….’, he hesitated, Anu there is a problem.’

‘What?’

‘This marriage has to be called off’

She has shocked. ’Why?’

‘I have understood that I love somebody else, Anu’

‘And I have waited 3 years for you Sanjay.’ She had been engaged when she was only 18, still at college. Sanjay was 23 then, wanted to settle down and so she ha waited for him. Other than her father and brother; the only man she knew was Sanjay. ‘Is this the reward I get for waiting for you, have I done some mistake or is it because of my limp’ Six months back she had been involved ina freak road accident, which had left her with a limp in her right leg. But throughout the ordeal, the hospitalization etc Sanjay had been at her side.

‘Its not because of your limp but your accident. Meaning it was during that time that I met her and fell in love. With you it was just compliance to parental wish. With her its bonding. If I marry you, it would not be just to either you or to her, Anu.’

“and who is this ‘her’”, she asked

‘Err.. its Sowjanya.’

Anandi still remembered the shock and the pain for Sowjanya was her cousin-her aunt’s daughter and she had nursed her after the accident. She had not realized what was happening beyond the ward doors.

And so her wedding had been cancelled. While Sowjanya and Sanjay got married on the same day and place that her marriage was to take place.

She had found herself at crossroads, without a professional degree she could not find a good job and with a cancelled wedding and a limp, her parents could not find a suitable match for her.

She had proceeded to do an MBA from IGNOU and had joined a CA who was newly diversifying from just auditing to management consultancy. To her good fortune from the day she joined the company, it started doing well and Mr.Bhatia believed that she had brought good luck to his firm and started involving her in most of his projects. She also did Project management, CMA, CFA etc so that whatever consultancy the company got, she could be a part of it. ‘Yes luck helped me but it was hard work too.’ She thought.

Meanwhile her brother’s colleague Mr. Shinde proposed to her. Mr. Shinde was a good honest man, earning well. The only drawback was that he was 12 years her senior and had a 7 year old daughter. But by then she had matured a lot and understood that good men were few and for a marriage to be successful you had to have understanding with your partner. And Mr Shinde was a good man and they understood each other well, so she agreed.

It was 10 years since they got married. Their daughter was now 17 and they had a son who was 7. Mr. Shinde had been supportive of her career. True they had their arguments but till date there had never been ego clashes.

And so here she was consulting for Awani enterprises. Awani had diversified into too many avenues- retail, manufacturing, food etc and was finding it difficult to manage. So they had called upon Bhatia’s to evaluate on their portfolio and advise them as to which ones to keep and which to liquidate. And she had met Sanjay again. He was a manager there at one of the divisions.

Surprisingly she didn’t feel any emotions, seeing him after such a long time- no anger, no bitterness. But yes her ego did get a boost while he bustled around her, arranging papers fulfilling her requirements.

‘No she was not angry with him. Good that he called of the marriage.

Because of him she discovered her inner strength, because of him she studied further, because of him she got into a job and because of him she married Mr. Shinde.

Behind every successful man is his wife and behind every successful woman is a ‘MAN’, she thought and smiled.

A new addition

2009-09-01T09:36:00.001+03:00

Today I am embarking on writng short stories for kids. Lets see how I fair

A NEW ADDITION

Jeet's Animal Farm

'Jeet see what I have got for you.’

‘What is it daddy?’, asked Jeet.

‘I have got 2 octopuses for your Animal Farm. Lets see what all you have got in your farm now. You have Pinku,-the Teddy Bear, then You have Toady, then there is Doggy, there is Owly the big owl and Hooty the small owl and now these two,’ said Daddy.

‘What is an Octopus, Daddy?’, asked Jeet.

‘Hmm . Octopus live in the ocean like fish and have ten feet.’

‘What is an Ocean, Daddy.’

‘Ocean is a big body of water, remember when we had been to India we flew over lots of water, that’s called an ocean. And before you ask any more questions I have to freshen up and we will have lunch. ‘

The whole day Jeet played with the Octopuses. He named one as Octo and the other as Greeny and night he slept with one on each side. When mummy was sure he was fast asleep, she slowly removed them and kept them with the other toys and switched off the lights.

As soon as it was dark, there came a sound-bam and someone said ‘Ouch’.

‘What happened Octo?’, asked Owly.

‘Someone kicked my back and it hurts’, said Octo.

‘Haa ha ‘, laughed Doggy.

‘Croak, croak’ said a disgruntled Toady

Pinku and Hooty said nothing.

And so it was the whole night either Octo was pushed or Greeny was kicked and so on. Owly knew what was happening but thought that whoever was misbehaving would stop.

The next day too Jeet was engrossed with his twin Octopus, he would put one on his head and one on his shoulder or talk to them and so on.

That night too Someone kicked Octo so hard that he crashed on the wardrobe and something shook inside it and a tiny sound came- ‘tring’

Mummy was awake in an instant and switched on the light. ‘I heard some noise—oh poor Octo has fallen down but how come it has fallen so far from the sofa, is there a mouse here?’ And she picked Octo up and kept with the other toys and switched off the lights.

‘Help me , help me’, cried Hooty. Greeny was on Hooty’s head and all his feet were around his neck.

‘What happened Greeny, why are you on Hootys head?’, Asked Pinku.

‘That’s because from yesterday Hooty has been bothering Octo and Greeny’, the wise owly said, ‘isn’t it Octo?’

‘yes, ‘ said Octo.

‘Leave him Octo and Hooty, you tell us why you have been behaving so badly?, said Doggy.

‘I hate those two, said Hooty.

‘But why Hooty’, asked Owly in his deep gruff voice.

‘Because of them Jeet has stopped playing with me, oh how I hate them,’ said Hooty.

With this answer everyone started laughing except Hooty.

‘Why are you laughing’, screamed Hooty.

‘Because you are jealous’, said Doggy, ’but you shouldn’t be.’

Why not’ , asked Hooty

‘Children are like that, new things attract them. Before you came I was his favourite, and before me Toady. In short Jeet is attracted to new things.’ Said Doggy.

‘Is it like that Owly’, asked Hooty.

Yes my dear. Jeet always plays with new things but it does not mean he forgets the others. Now and then doesn’t he play with me or the others. Don’t you see when he is sad he hugs Pinku and when he wants to talk he comes and talks to me?’ Said Owly.

‘Yes’ said Hooty.

‘Its because Octo and Greeny are new that he is paying so much attention to them. After some time he will get some other toy and he will start playing with them. And one fine day he wont like playing with tus- his soft toys and will stop playing with us’, Said Owly.

‘Oh is it’, said Hooty

‘yes’ said Toady in his croaky voice, ‘ he will like to play with cars, and guns and other big boy stuff.’

‘oh no ‘, said Hooty in a small voice.

‘But we are always ther for you Hooty and we will always be together, you will never be lonely.’ Said Doggy, ‘ssso come you three be friends and we will all stay together.

‘Oh ok said Hooty and hugged the two octopuses and they all became friends.

And peace reigned again in Jeets Animal Farm

Then and Now

2009-08-29T12:27:00.000+03:00

I often find myself going into the flashback mode nowadays which makes me wonder whether I have reallly become too old. Yesterday had bought some chikki but found that its not so tasty and remarked to my husband that its not as good as it used to be. Earlier when my father used to say that we used to buy so much for 2 annas etc, I used to cringe. But nowadays I find myself doing the same. Indian vegetables were 6oo fils a kg earlier now its 900, rent used to be 80 BD now minimum is 150 and so on. So does it mean that I am ageing up fast or am I becoming like my father?? Don't know for sure but any minor/ major happenings do prompt me to think back.

Friendships over the times have changed. The friendships of school days were so very transparent, without any barriers. You could share anything, giggle on silly jokes, but then life isn't that complicated at that age. The only complications were exams then. With adolescence came some opaqueness in friendships too and with competition in studies there was more distance. Suddenly there were lots of 'secrets' to be hidden from friends. Now married and with a kid, I find friendships on a different level altogether. With some I chat about parenting issues, with some about politics, with some on economic issues etc but still I yearn for the friendships of childhood. Those friends with whom I could chat with no strings attached, no restrictions and without fear. Friends with whom I could unravel my burdens.

The relation between a parent and child is so very unique, so very special. Nothing is hidden from a parent. But as time goes by, as the child becomes an adult there is also a huge gap in communication. Firstly because the child has now matured and secondly because he/ she does not want to bother his parents with his troubles. True, a person should learn to handle his own affairs. But still I long for the days when I could unravel my heart.

Courtship days or the days immediately following marriage are so very special. Its like discovering life anew. Those whispered talks, the holding hands, the knowing looks. As days go by; there is no need for all that; one look or sometimes just the presence of your partner is enough to know what he is thinking or what he wants. And we settle down to a comfortable existence side by side. But still I long for the carefree days of being 'Just married'

Does this happen to everyone or is it just me? Do you too think about then and now?

Just like that-4

2009-08-24T08:49:00.000+03:00

I was leafing through my old diary and came across these lines and memories came flooding by. It was during my MBA days, a class of Quantitative methodology or something like that. A subject not to my liking and was terrible bored. A session used to be of 90 minutes and if the subject was uninteresting, it was very difficult to stay awake. Very often bits of paper with caricature or jokes or poetry were passed along and very often were the saving graces (for not falling asleep).

These lines caught my eye because I found that they were applicable to my present situation too, have a look;

ज़िन्दगी न हुई

Trial Balance हो गई।

जहाँ Trial ही Trial हे,

पर Balance कुछ नहीं।

जहाँ तहां मिलते हैं errors

क्यूँ की हो गए कुछ omissions

पर करे कैसे rectify

क्यूँ की मिलते नही debit और credit

बनाया जब Balance Sheet

Tally नही हुए assets और liabilities

डाला जब difference suspense में

पता चला fail हुए exam में.

Yes you guessed it right. Most of us were worried about not able to balance the Balance sheet, So on a bored summer afternoon, decided to pen down our worries. But isn't life like that, we always keep on trying to balance our situation, while life keeps us rocking with some or the other happenings-good or bad. But in life's exam nobody can be a failure.

We are winners all the way.

Comparisons are inevitable

2009-08-22T09:39:00.000+03:00

Comparisons are inevitable. Just now I was watching a photograph taken by my cousin, it was a shot of a waterfall and I wondered on how nicely the scene had been captured. And then I thought about the cousin; who is good at many things dancing, painting, photography, cooking; and me…..?

Amongst my friends and neighbours there are seven kids in almost the same age group. Its wonderful to watch them in a group. All have different characteristics. While one will be a loner, another will be totally social. One will share his/her toys, another will scream at the top of his voice if anybody even glances at his toy.

Normally I let my son to enjoy on his own, without bothering to give him a formal education. By formal I mean I never tried teaching him –ABC or 123. My idea of teaching is to just introduce him to the basics while playing around. My idea is to make him more aware and observant of the surroundings-like to see the branches move in a breeze, to hear the chirrup of birds, the colors of the traffic lights and so on. To make him self reliant even in education. And so I went just introducing him to this and that and hoping that his natural inclination will take root; until I heard my neighbour’s kid reciting ‘twinkle, twinkle’ and ABC in one go. Which made me panic and wonder-was I doing the right thing. And then it started – the formal coaching. But my son having a mind of his own just nods and carries on with his activities. So have I been wrong in my approach? I don’t think so. Every one has his own techniques, then why the comparison?

I am at present satisfied with my housewife status. But there are times when I look at my professional friends and wonder how good their lives are. Earning in 6 figures, travelling where they feel like, shopping to their hearts content. And me… but then I think that atleast some of them might want to be in my shoes too. To do the normal household chores without depending on a maid, to watch one’s kid grow, etc.

People who have a desk job will ogle at people who have one out in the field. Thinking how nice it might be to be out in the open, fixing one’s schedule at one’s convenience. And those in the field(read marketing) will feel how nice it must be to work in the confines of an office with an A/C on full blast and Internet.

That’s how it is usually. Comparisons do arise but it does not mean that we have an inferiority complex or anything like that. Its just human tendency. We may preach and proclaim of accepting overselves as we are. But it’s a long process. For some it may be achieved in minutes but for many it takes years. The real trick is in to finding our strengths and plus points and negating the negatives. After all each one of us is unique and special.

कभी कभी

2009-08-20T09:22:00.001+03:00

कभी कभी मेरे दिल में ख्याल आता हैं
की में इंसान के बदले मच्छर होती तो क्या होता?
-------------------
कभी कभी मेरे दिल में ख्याल आता हैं

सोनिया गाँधी राजीव से विवाह न करती तो क्या होता?
-------------------
कभी कभी मेरे दिल में ख्याल आता हैं

की मनमोहन सिंह के अपने विचार क्या हैं?
-----------------------------
कभी कभी मेरे मन में ख्याल आता हैं
की मल्लायका अरोरा के इतने आशिक क्यों हैं?
---------------------------
कभी कभी मेरे दिल में ख्याल आता हैं की
राखी सावंत को पब्लिसिटी की इतनी भूक क्यों हैं?
-----------------------------

कभी कभी मेरे मन में ख्याल आता हैं

की बहरैन की कड़कती धुप में

कांच की इमारतों की ज़रूरत क्या हैं

----------------------------

कभी कभी मेरे मन में ख्याल आता हैं की

मेरे मन में ऐसे विचारों की वजह क्या हैं ;)

---------------------------

उफ़ यह गर्मी

2009-08-19T12:10:00.000+03:00

हाय यह गर्मी
न घटती न संभलती
अरे आसमान वालों
गर्मी न कम कर सकते न सही
छत्री तो खोल दो।

-----------------------
पसीना पोंचथे पोंचथे
रूमाल तो गिला हुआ ही
पता चला दुनिया वालों
पता चला
दुपट्टा भी सुखा न रहा।

--------------------------
गोला खाने गए जब हम
आखें मूँद बड़े चाव से,
धीरे धीरे जीब निकाले
की अचानक
ठण्ड का अहसास
लगा हाय शौपिंग मॉल में बारिश
आखें खोले तो पता चला
बारिश कहाँ दोस्तों
यह तो गोला पिघल चुका था।

-------------------------
लगे हैं सुबह से
कपड़े सुखाने
पर इस उमस में
कपड़े सूखे कैसे।

----------------------
लगे हैं नहाने
दिन में तीन तीन बार
फिर लगा नहायें क्यों,
जब पसीना ही नहला देती यु।

बाहर जाना हो अगर,
थोड़ा काजल,
थोड़ा पाउडर,
थोड़ा इत्थर,
और..बड़ी सी मुस्कान।

-------------------------
डॉक्टर ने कहा
वजन घटाओ
कोलेस्ट्रोल की घंटी
डायबिटीज़ का खतरा।
सुबह वर्जिश
श्याम को सैर पर जाओ.
पर डॉक्टर जी पहले यह तो करो,
गर्मी पसीने से पहले निजात तो दिलाओ।

------------------------------------------

Reality.........bites

2009-08-17T08:38:00.000+03:00

There is an overdose of reality shows. Sometimes i feel that not having cable connection is indeed a blessing. But then we do get some free to air news channels and they do show reviews of some TV shows, which makes me cringe.

IN the days when Doordarshan was the lone ranger, and serials used to end in 13 episodes (Buniyaad and Hum Log being the exception) it was better, atleast there was some quality. But then we wanted variety. And when variety arrived there was no quality.

Doordarshan atleast tried to showcase programs for all, music, kids, documentaries and of course who can forget Krishi darshan. But now we have different channels for different genres and age groups. Don't know what Doordarshan is up to now, don't get it atleast here in my home at Bahrain.

I stopped watching serials when they began to stretch like chewing gum and the story never seemed to finish, and ultimately when it finished you had already forgotten how the story had started and the ending was senseless. The characters never seemed to die. The female leads always seemed to have perfect make up even while working in the kitchen and not a single pleat was out of place. I tried to do the same but never succeeded. But the main reason why I quit watching serials is the impact they had on my thought processes. So much scheming, so much negativity portrayed that I thought it better to quit.

Same goes for News channels. In the process of making their channels No 1, sensationalism is at its peak. India celebrates its Independence day but Shahrukh being detained at Newark Airport gets top priority. Salman says he will be married soon, and that becomes the matter of a 30 minute program. Does any one bother that our MLAs and MPs haven't fulfilled their promises or that the ongoing battle between the Ambani brothers may trigger inflation. Or that we have so many schools but very few that actually educate or even that there is hardly any agricultural land left for cultivation.

And then Rakhee had her Swayamwar. And at the nth hour decided to just be engaged, I don't blame her, if choosing a life partner was that simple, there would have not been any divorces. So many talent hunt shows, I wonder where and what the finalists do after being defeated. How many of them are able to accept defeat. And even those who have won, are they able to make it big in the 'real' world.

What really triggered all my thoughts was a trailer seen in one of the news channels. A lady who appeared in the reality show-Sach ka samna'; who accepted that she was having an extra marital affair etc etc and then quit after winning 10 lakhs. Did she ever worry about the repercussions it will have in her marital life or the future of her daughter. Or Raja Choudhary who came and lost, will anybody believe him now. Do we really need to speak such truths which will hurt our loved ones. Or does money compensate everything? Aren't some truths better unveiled?

I do believe in the entertainment and educative value of Television. But atleast show something intelligent. Promote some good values.

As for me I will be happier with some old reruns of 'Surabhi'.

Second Chance

2009-08-12T11:45:00.000+03:00

Priya lay on the bed. It was 2am but sleep evaded her. The future scared her. Divorced for a year and life was still at crossroads.

She had been married for 5 years. Early in their marriage they had discovered that she had problem in her fallopian tubes and conceiving would be difficult. But Aniket had been very understanding. She had been heartbroken but he had consoled her saying that in a couple of years they would adopt. Its all about having a child as your own, no need that the child should be from your own womb, he had said. He was a Pediatrician; she worked as a volunteer in a special school. It was only by accident that she had learnt that he was having an affair with her best friend and she was shattered. Some days later he had asked for a divorce stating that Shubha was pregnant and the child was his.

She wanted to fight tooth and nail against the divorce but the thought of an illegitimate baby kept her back. After all what was the fault of the baby; so she acquiesced.

And here she was, in Bangalore staying in a PG working for a trading company. It is difficult to find a job or accommodation being a divorcee, hundred questions asked, eyebrows raised. She had somehow found lodgings, because the landlady was her mother’s friend. The job was a fluke. The boss Mr. Goverdhan was such tyrant that no one wanted to work for, but she agreed; because she didn’t have a choice. A divorcee with no professional qualification or experience couldn’t find a job in ‘India shining’. She was a gofer there, doing odd jobs. Currently her role was of recovery. Being a trading company, her company was like a liaison agent, procuring goods for small traders and making a small profit. Usually it was some specialty product which was asked for, like ‘juttis’ from Rajasthan or ‘bibinca’ from Goa or something like that. Mr Govardhans partner –Mrs.Anushka Damani had the sole job of doing research on which product was available where and how to procure it at the cheapest possible price without compromising on quality. And she- she now was into recovery. Small traders often delayed on the payments and she had the herculean task of recovering sometimes on phone, sometimes personally and very often cajoling.

She was moderately successful. Her recovery rate was 70%, which was pretty good. But Mr. Goverdhan was just not happy. Her legs trembled like leaves when she was called into his cabin and his shouts and insults were increasing day by day. ‘I am learning am I not’ she thought and getting better everyday. And what can I do if I am not beautiful. The other day he had commented that she looked like a gunny bag.Her thoughts went on and on and she realized that it was already 6 and got up with a sigh.

It was 11 am and she was making her report on her ‘progresses’ when Anushka walked into her cubicle. ‘Hi Priya, how is it going?’

‘OK Anu’, she replied.

‘Why so morose’

‘Usual, the boss said that I was good for nothing and that he was wasting time and money on me’.

‘Hey come on don’t you know the adage, the dogs who bark seldom bite. Gopu is like that, if he had really found you unworthy, he would have kicked you out long back.’

‘Maybe. But these constant nags destroy my confidence and its getting too much to handle.’

‘Just ignore dear,’ she said and left.

Couple of days passed and again she was called into the Boss’s cabin.

‘Have you seen the report?’, he asked, it was her weekly recovery report.

‘Yes Sir, it was I who made it’, she replied back. She had had a rough week and was feeling edgy.

‘Don’t use that tone on me. If only you knew how to dress properly and how to speak; your recovery would have been 100%.’

‘Fine why don’t you get such a person then’ she answered and left.

The whole office was dumbfounded by her response. The normally docile Priya had retorted was a shocker to all.

Anushka came running to Priya’s cubicle only to find her packing her things.

“Where are you going?’

‘I am quitting’

‘Quitting-where will you go’.

‘ I got an offer from the school where I was working earlier. The salary is not much but with the alimony I can manage’, She said.

‘No Priya, don’t take such a hasty decision, you are doing great here’.

‘But he says I am a burden.’

‘Gopu doesn’t know how to behave or to speak-just ignore him’.

‘If someone demeans you at every single chance that he gets, will you be able to ignore him, Anu’, she asked.

‘I will tell you something Priya. I have known him since childhood. His father ran off with another woman when he was 5. His mother raised him till she too died when he was 12. His uncle raised him as a responsibility with little love, his wife left him when he had an accident and started walking with a limp, in short he feels whomever he liked and loved has deserted him.’

‘I don’t understand what you are trying to tell me Anu.’

‘ That, he likes you and is trying his best to fight you of. He feels that he is in the threat of falling in love with you.’

Priya was exasperated. To hear such a view was shocking. ‘I don’t believe you Anu and even if I did, his insults are too much for me to handle.’

Priya felt happy with the kids but she missed her earlier job too, the pace, her colleagues. Working with kids was alright but she missed some adult company. And it was so very tiring.

It was on a Friday when she was rushing home when she found Mr. Goverdhan standing near the school gate.

‘Hi Priya how have you been’, he asked

‘Good’, she replied.

‘Hmm care for a coffee?’

She didn’t understand how to refuse and so she said’ yes’

Over Coffee he kept a polite conversation and then said,’ I have realized how good you were in your job, so will you join back’

‘No thanks I am happy in my current job’ she replied.

He was silent and then said,’ not only in the job I have realize that you have made a positive influence in my life too, your determination, your demeanour your grace everything.’

‘What about my old hag looks, my sloppy dressing style my tussled hair? She retorted.

‘That was said just to infuriate you, see what I mean to say is I really like you, will you marry me?’

Priya was shocked.

‘See I have been married once and it has not been a pleasant experience. Nor has been my experience with you, so my answer is No.’ She said.

A couple of days later she got a mail from Mr. Goverdhan-Priya I know you don’t like me but can we be friends and try to understand each other.

She agreed, there was no harm in friendship. And so their romance started, there were no candlelight dinners and no gifts. But intellectual talks, she would tell him about her ‘children’, he about his clients, she would advise him on dealing with people, he would advise her about how to make the children curious and so on.

He told her how he had to quit being a Physical trainer because of his accident and how Anushka helped him to set up the business, she told about how she found joy in teaching.

They discovered their mutual love of books and black and white movies.

And how they argued. Being of extreme natures they seldom agreed on anything but the decision they finally arrived to was always right.

Until 5 months later they realized that indeed they were very much compatible for each other and decided to get married. They knew that their marriage would be rocky what with his always active temper and her flare for always touching his raw nerves, but they also understood that her persuasiveness and his emotionality would always make their life adventurous.

And yes Mr and Mrs. Damani were the witnesses for their liaison.

The Ups and downs

2009-08-10T11:46:00.000+03:00

The crises never seem to end. Either a health problem, or problems with or in the job, the intolerable heat or the even more intolerable humidity, the water pump in the building ‘dies’ down or for lack of anything better; the ceiling decides to leak…….

This makes me quite antagonistic and wants to return to the happy carefree life of childhood. When tensions were naught and you had confidence that you could conquer the world. I wonder why we ever work hard to excel in studies and even harder for a career and at the end of it all face hurdle after hurdle and few successes. Leave success some days even pass by without doing anything constructive.

Its at this precise moment when I am brooding, that my son creeps from behind and gives me a hug and I realize that its these moments we live for. A warm hug, a bright smile, your partner deciding to surprise you with some chocolates or some long lost friend calling you and having a long chat. We live in these small episodes of bright sunshine which enlivens us, which helps us gather spirits to cross hurdle after hurdle.

What is success anyways? For me its these small joys enveloping me like a halo and I emerge refreshed for a grand new scuffle.

निरंतर

2009-08-08T08:45:00.001+03:00

हाथ ऊपर उठा गगन को छु लूँ,
पूरी दुनिया को मुठी में क़ैद कर लूँ।
कोई नही आज जो मेरे गति को रोक सके,
नही कोई बंधन जो आज मुझे जकड सके।

आगे आगे और आगे बस आगे ही बड़ना हैं,
लक्ष्य है आगे और अब किस्से डरना है।
झूम कर इस पथ पर अब आगे ही बड़ना है,
फूल हो कांटे हो अब सबको समेटना है।

कोई हार अब नही तोड़ सकती मुझे,
कोई आपति अब नही रोक सकती मुझे।
में थी में हु में रहूंगी,
निरंतर बडती ही रहूंगी.

On loving

2009-08-04T09:24:00.000+03:00

There was a forwarded message in my inbox. Opened it with a typical nonchalance. Reason being that most of the forwards are about sending it to 10 people and wait for luck to strike you, or jokes or something like that. There are a very few mails which are really interesting. But the title was ‘breathe of life’ and I thought-ok another mail on pranayam, what furthered my interest was that it was a narration by Sri Sri Ravishankar, and what really got me booked and hooked was the first paragraph.

It mentioned that all the troubles, all the joys, all emotions, all the activities in this world are caused by one basic emotion and that is LOVE. Which got me really thinking………

And indeed it is true. Its love for a comfortable life which often makes us greedy, love for our partners, which makes us possessive, love for our son which makes us suspicious of our daughter in law, love for our husband which makes us apprehensive of our mother in law; love for life which makes us scared of death and illness so on and so forth.

I had never realized that a four letter word could be so potent. That the I love you’s that we utter to our partners or kids had so many implications, or that the insecurities that I have bred in me is just because of one common factor called love. It made me feel better actually.

If it was Love which makes me angry or love that makes me possessive or love that makes me greedy, I am not that bad a person at all.

Sometimes you are introspecting, trying to better yourself as a person and feel quite lost and hope to find a beacon; this mail was just like that-a guiding light.

A single paragraph has made me think, I wonder what will happen when I really read the entire mail and start interpreting.

I have quoted the text here do read it, for some of us at least it is indeed a BREATH OF LIFE

Breath of Life

Sri Sri Ravi Shankar
The world would be free from trouble if there is no love! All the problem in the world is caused by love! So also all the joy, pleasure and the very purpose in life. Do you see what Im saying? Suppose there is no love, you cant be jealous; jealousy is because of love. Greed is because you love objects too much. Anger is because you love perfection, that is why you are angry at imperfections. You love yourself too much and thats why pride and arrogance comes to you. Isnt it? So, every distortion of love causes problems not only for ourselves, but for everybody. Even though this is the case, without love what is there in life? Just imagine theres nobody who loves you on this planet, and you dont love anybody. Does life have any meaning, any purpose? It appears absolutely depressing, boring, uninteresting, isnt it so? But, how do we get to that point of love where that love is free from the distortions and we are able to be at ease with ourself? This is where a little knowledge about ourself, about our mind, our consciousness, and the root of distortion will help. It is when you are tired and exhausted that you are not in touch with your virtues. Every individual is bestowed with all the virtues in the world. They simply get covered by lack of understanding. All that is needed is to just to uncover the virtues that are already there. Never should we think, Oh, deep inside me there is sorrow. I say its only skin deep, go a little deeper there is no sorrow. You cannot have hurt deep inside you, that only means you have not gone deep enough. Thats why we are unable to forgive somebody because we think that person has caused us hurt. Right? But if you look at the person from a different perspective, that person himself is also a victim of ignorance, small mindedness, lack of awareness. So, inside every culprit there is a victim crying for help. If we can recognise that we dont need to forgive them, we will feel compassion for them. When we are happy, something in us is expanding, have you noticed it? And when we are upset, something in us is being crushed, a sense of contraction is felt. Just knowing this brings freedom to us. Then our mind or our consciousness no more becomes a puppet of anybodys words, opinions or their sayings. It becomes free. We are unconditionally happy. Each of us should reach out to everyone and say, Hey, come on, just be friendly!. Do you know that a child smiles 400 times a day, an adolescent only 17 times, and an adult doesnt smile at all. And that too, if he becomes a little successful, he becomes much more stiff. I cant understand this! To me, someone who has no fear, who feels at home with everybody and has a smile which no one can take away is a successful person. From today, make one resolution that you are going to be a guiding lamp for the world, for the people around you. Wherever you go, you are going to uplift the atmosphere. If someone comes to you with complaints they should go back with a lighter heart, feeling more enthusiastic. Can you all do this? So, learning something about our breath is very important. Our breath has a great lesson to teach us, which we have forgotten, for every rhythm in the mind, there is a corresponding rhythm in the breath, for every rhythm in the breath there is a corresponding emotion. So, when you cannot handle your mind directly, through breath you can handle the mind. Neither at school nor at home does anybody teach you what to do when you are upset or angry or depressed. Isnt that so? The first thing we did when we came to this planet is that we took a deep breath in and then we started to cry. The last thing well be doing, well breathe out and make others cry! In between, the whole life, we are breathing in and out, but, we have learnt very little about our breath! No breath, no life... know breath, know life! The rhythm in breath can help us get in touch with the depth of ourself, our soul, our consciousness, our being and we feel connected with everybody, with everything in the world. I am sure that deep within you, everyone of you feel that you have not grown, meaning you have not changed, not grown old. This indicates the soul in you, the depth in you, the spirit in you doesnt change, doesnt grow old, its not aging. The body is aging but something in you is not aging. Getting in touch with that something that doesnt age, brings beauty in life. That is meditation. We need to learn a little bit about our breath. We need to know a little bit about all the layers of our existence, viz body, breath, mind, intellect, memory, ego and the self. This is what I call Art of Living, learning a little bit about ourself, the seven layers of our life. And that makes you be in the present moment and it helps us to maintain the innocence that we are all born with, and feel at home with everybody, anywhere. What I would suggest is take one week off every year for yourself, like you take your car for servicing. During that time, align yourself with nature, wake up with the sunrise, do some exercise, eat proper food, just as much food as necessary, some exercises, yoga, and some breathing exercises, a few minutes of singing, and keeping silence, enjoying the creation. Aligning ourself with nature, our whole system gets recharged, makes the whole year, we feel so vibrant, enthusiastic.
Sri Sri Ravi Shankar

Just like that-3

2009-08-02T09:00:00.000+03:00

I find nowadays the conversation (basically amongst men)revolves around share trading, real estates, appreciation in prices of either shares or real estate and profits, which makes me wonder is that the only thing left in life now. I mean where have the small joys gone. Or do they find no other topic to talk about

As a kid my parents didn't differentiate between my brother and me. meaning that there were no gender differences except when it came to curfew time, which was 7p.m. in my case and a litter later for him. But in recent years I have realised that however much we scream about equality, differences do exist. No its not just Indian psyche, its global. Which makes me cringe and want to be born again as a MALE.

But the other day listening to the general conversation I felt proud to be a woman.At least I had so many things to talk about;

1. We talk about parenting

2. Clothes

3. Shopping-which offer is going on where, what is good etc etc.

4.Share recipes

5.Unburden over selves-of our worries, joys, secrets.........

6.Office chitchat-that is if one is working

7. Gossip

I can go on and on,

So even though I know that there will never be equality between men and women, i am happy that at least women have versatility. So all you women who share my thoughts-Don't worry, Be happy.

कोहरा

2009-07-29T09:48:00.000+03:00

चारो तरफ़ हैं गहरा कोहरा,
दिशाहीन हु मैं।

बिखरे ख्वाब,
टूटा अस्तित्व।

अजीब सा सूनापन,
ठिठुरे अरमान।

कभी तो होगा उजाला
इसी इंतज़ार में हूँ मैं।

A New Beginning

2009-07-26T17:47:00.000+03:00

Mrs.Iyer heaved a sigh. The room was bare but still looked small. ‘But enough for me’, she thought,, ‘After all what else does an old woman want’. There was a small bedroom where she had put her cot, a wardrobe and a small mirror on the wall. The drawing room was entirely bare. ’Hmm I will put a mattress in this corner with some bright cushions and a spread it will look cosy’, she thought.

She had quit her son’s home or rather her husband’s home and come to this one hall bedroom kitchen housing board house. It had been a 25th wedding anniversary gift from her husband. Maybe he had the foresight to know that she would have to leave her son’s family and live on her own, she thought. Why was life so difficult she thought? You raise kids with so much difficulty only to be dumped by them in old age. One daughter away in the Gulf, a son too busy fulfilling his wife’s wishes. And what can a widow do except pack her bags and live on her own, she thought.

Her thoughts moved to her daughter in law. No privacy, she says, interference, huh. In our days, we rarely spoke to our husband’s. All decisions our mother in law took and privacy? What privacy in a joint family with growing kids. And if I told something In their midst, it was for their betterment, what wrong did I do if I said that what they were doing was not right. No, no she thought I shouldn’t be so negative, let me go and inspect the park, everyone says it’s pretty.

So she changed from her worn cotton saree into a starched ironed one and left. This became her daily habit. Until 5 days later she met a group of oldies who came forward and introduce themselves. ‘Hello, I am Krishna’, an old man in his 70’s came forward and said, ‘it seems you have come newly here, why don’t you join us in our evening stroll?’, he said. An d so it started, Mrs Iyer rediscovered the joys of talking and sharing with close friends. After years of looking after a family, she found it very enjoyable to be with her own peer group.

A fortnight later she found her group to be in an animated discussion. It seemed that they had a club-the Golden Age Club, where they would have a meeting every fortnight, play some housie, have some snacks and chat and it was scheduled the next day. She too got excited and joined the discussion.

However,the next day was a complete dampener to her expectations. Housie was ok, the snacks were good but the only talk around was of henpecked sons, unsuitable daughter in laws , tyrant sons-in law and suffering daughters. Disgruntled she got up to leave. ‘What happened’, Mrs. Desai asked. ‘Nothing much, Mrs. Desai. I came here to have a good time and not to hear complaints about family. I believe in constructive use of time and such conversations in my opinion are a waste of both time and energy’, she said and left. All the people in the room were shocked. They had not expected such outburst from her and each knew that what she said was right.

Mrs Iyer in her new avatar of ‘single woman’ had taken up to dress in starched cotton sarees at home too, manicured hands and plaited hair. Her house was kepi neat and fresh flowers adorned her drawing room. A pan of tomato ketchup was bubbling on the stove ( a gift for her grandchildren)when there was a knock. When she opened she found it to be Mr. Krishna. “Do come in Mr. Krishna. I am afraid you will have to seat yourself on this floor divan of mine. So if you have arthritis I am indeed sorry for the trouble.’ Mr.Krishna was again struck by her direct manner but found it amiable. Mrs. Iyer, what you said yesterday was right. We are indeed killing time. What do you suggest we do in our club?'

‘Hmm. We can do a lot actually. We can do community service. Of course we being retired will have less cash for donations etc but whatever physically we can do. We must…’

‘Like what?’, he asked.

‘Hmm like we can look after kids. No not like crèche but you know when parents have to go for some function or shopping or to the hospital and find it difficult with demanding kids. We can take care of them. We can collect used clothes and give it to the needy or make quilts and mats out of worn out clothes. There are so many things we can do.’

And that’s how the Golden Age Club (GAC) became proactive. The members were cheerful and busy and their ‘busy’ ness took their minds out of the routine matters of home. Mr.Krishna and Mrs.Iyer spearheaded their projects.

One Sunday morning found Mrs.Iyers daughter in law at her doorsteps. Soumya was pleasantly surprised upon seeing her well groomed mother in law. ‘Hello Soumya do come in’, said Mrs.Iyer and her confidence surprised Soumya more.

After general enquiries and chit chat got over, Soumya divulged on the reason she had come. ‘I do miss you a lot you know. I have realized what I termed as interferences were actually good advices. I have also realized that you had been my confidante and guide and…..’

‘Soumya I too have realized what you meant. Rather than meddling now and then in your affairs I should have allowed you to make your mistakes and grow. After all if something untoward happened I could have guided you. I never realized what you meant by privacy until I came here and found out. You know I never fully understood your father in law because we never could spend time alone. And when the time came to really share and spend time together- in our old age, he left….’

‘But I shouldn’t have been so vocal, and’, said Soumya.

‘And I shouldn’t have been so meddlesome’, cut in Mrs.Iyer and both giggled like schoolgirls and thus began a new chapter in their lives-that of being friends.

‘Your tomato ketchup was yummy. My colleagues just loved it when I took some to office with cutlets. And when I told them that you were the GAC’s manager, their eyes just popped out. Your GAC has become so famous. They were actually saying that if you started selling ketchup they would stand in queus to buy it.’

‘Is it? That gives me a new idea’, said Mrs. Iyer and thus GAC diversified into the food section with ketchups, jams and pickles.

That’s how Mrs.Iyer made a new beginning and GAC a makeover. Mrs.Iyer and Mr.Krishna became very close friends and what happened of their friendship will be another story by itself.

Maze (Part5)

2009-07-23T10:41:00.000+03:00

The following days took the shape of earlier days with the kids going to their schools and the adults on their respective jobs.

But somewhere in the back of her mind Anahita was scared. Scared about what would happen at the next meet with the counselor. True she had grievances with their relationship but Ajay, he too might be having his own. Would he be able to accept his mistakes and she hers? After her talk with Suhani she had realized that she had been in the wrong too.

At the next session both of them were silent. Each one afraid of what might happen. Will their relationship break or will they be able to take it to a higher level. Living together for so long a person does get attached and dependent on the other.

‘Alright are you ready for today’s session?’, asked Dr.Indumati and before they could answer proceeded to say, ‘this will be a one to one session, meaning one of you will tell me the problems of your relationship while the other will go out and fill a questionnaire. So that you are able to communicate freely without any fear. So who will be the first to tell me?’

When both of them were silent, she asked Anu to be the first and Ajay stepped out to the adjoining room to fill the questionnaire.

‘Are you relaxed Anahita?’

‘Hmm, yes’

‘So what do you think are the problems in your life right now?’

She had thought about this a lot. ‘Doctor Ajay does not take me as an individual with my own needs and desires. Neither does he respect me for what I am. Always nags and demoralizes which affects me mentally. I try to please him but the problem is he is never satisfied. Neither is he communicative either with me or with the kids. It takes two to run a family but he is always passive’, she concluded.

You mean to say he doen’t participate in any activity around the house, she asked.

‘Yes. I also feel he is jealous of my success or maybe his ego is hurt that I have achieved success while he has not.’

‘Has he evr verbally said so?’, the counselor asked.

‘Sort of. Whenever there are letters to the editor that my feature was done nicely, he would say things like only a stupid can like it or do they really know English, things like that.’

While this exchange was going on Ajay was filling out answers for questions like when was the last time you actually spoke to your spouse and when was the last time you held hands. ‘what sort of stupid questions are these and what conclusions can she draw form such questions’, he wondered.

After sometime he was called inside and Anahita sent out.

‘So Mr.Desai what do you think is the problem in your marriage?, the counselor asked.

‘the problem is we have grown apart.’

‘And why have you grown apart?’

‘Because of Anu. I mean she is so very busy with her work. She does not have time for us.’

‘But she works from home?’

‘Yes she does. She does her duties like cooking cleaning, attending PTA meetings. But no time to really talk or sit with us. At every given opportunity she tries to demean me.’

‘Demean you verbally?’

‘No, she has this superior demeanor and ‘I know it all’ looks. She will get these surprise gifts for the kids to show off that she earns well etc’

That was the beginning of their therapy. Broken communications had impaired their relations so much that it took a long time for each to realize their mistakes. But what helped them to recover was their hidden love for each other, the love for their kids and their need to keep their family intact.

Ajay finally admitted that his ego was indeed hurt that Anahita was a success. He was made to realize that his own failures were not because of ‘luck' but because of his low self esteem and confidence. He was made to realize that his family, his kids needed him and he had to take an active part in the day to day activities.

And Anahita ; she was told that there was no need to be always perfect. Making mistakes was part of being human. She was told to delegate work and not to try to do everything by herself. The family could have fun in doing things together. Children do learn about planning coordination, managing if given an opportunity.

But most important was that both were asked to share. To share their joys and sorrows, their worries. To make decisions together, to live life together and not as single entities in a conglomerate.

Anahita did accept the editorial post. She started sharing. Her husband and kids became her friends. Ajay became a better person. Suhani is trying to make a balance between studies and dramatics and Sanket a happy boy.

But will they all find a way out of the maze of conflicting emotions, only time will tell.
(Concluded)

Maze (Part4)

2009-07-21T09:41:00.000+03:00

After a day at the hospital Sanket was sent home. Each one of them kept a vigil by his bedside. Anahita woke up early finished her work and then spent time with him. Suhani too spent all her free time with him.Ajay too started coming early, each one kept a lively chatter so that he would be happy and he being still innocent couldn’t feel the undercurrents and was happy. But Anu felt as if sitting on a live volcano.

She had expected Ajay to erupt on her mentioning their problems before the Doctor or the mentioning of a marriage counselor. But Ajay seemed to have mellowed. Sanket’s sickness had scared him. He was his pet. The typical boy child syndrome.

‘Anu we have to talk’, whispered Ajay,’not now, later when Sanket sleeps.’

‘Oo ‘thought Anu, ‘honeymoon is over, time for some reality check.’

For some time they both played Snakes and Ladder with Sanket, a harmless game which didn’t require much energy and later when he started getting dozy both got up asked Suhani to keep an eye and went to their room.

‘I agree Anu we do need help, but why a counselor why not family’, Started Ajay.

Anu was surprised at Ajay’s initiation and also bluntness. He had a habit of beating around the bush and then gradually coming to the point but his approach today surprised her. And pleased her too.

‘Because Ajay if we call my side of the family they will side with me and if its yours they will side with you. We need somebody who is impartial. Who looks at the problem from all angles and then guide us. Also when we bring in relatives it will just lead to bitching midst the family and relationships being spoilt‘, explained Anu.

‘I agree, so do you have anybody in mind’, said Ajay.

‘No’, said she. His attitude was indeed surprising.

‘Well I hear that our Company OHC (Occupational Health Clinic) has a Counselor on its payroll. Do you mind if we go there.’

‘Oh no not at all’, said she.

‘So I shall fix up an appointment ‘, said he.

‘Sure’, said she.

The intervening days were spent with and around Sanket. Now that a direction had been sought, she felt light headed and relaxed. The happy environment, even if a farce, was pleasing and it surprised them both that how much work could be accomplished if the surrounding was congenial. Both the kids were thriving. Sanket rejoined school and Suhani ……became a regular at school.

The first session at Dr.Indumati’s chamber consisted just of filling out forms-personal details, ifs and whys.

And then the grilling.

‘So Mr. And Mrs. Desai, whose idea was it to see a counselor’, she started

‘Both of us’, said Ajay which pleased and surprised Anu. The graduation from me to us was a big step forward by itself.

‘Alright so both of you agree that there are problems in your marriage which needs to be solved.’

‘Yes’, they chorused.

So we will begin the next session with both of you telling me what you think has gone wrong in your marriage. The next session will be day after tomorrow so take the intervening time to think about it’ and with that she concluded that day’s session.

Maze(Part 3)

2009-07-19T09:11:00.000+03:00

Next day being a holiday, she finished her cooking and then went over to their room where Ajay was doing some paperwork. ‘Ajay’, she said, ‘can we talk.’

‘Hmm’, he replied.

She started with routine chitchat and then migrated to Suhani. ‘She is really interested in dramatics Ajay. She must be good at it, otherwise why will Jayati give her an offer. Imagine acting for Jayati at 14. Isn’t it an honor…’

‘Ha’, Ajay cut her speech,’ Mother flaunts on paper, and daughter wants to do it in front of an audience.’

‘What?’. Said a shocked Anu.

‘Yes, you like to gloat and there’s where your daughter is heading too.’

‘Oho my daughter is it? What about yourself? You are an ego maniac who cannot see a female being successful while you yourself have been a failure in whatever you have done. And guess what this flaunter, your wife has been offered the position of Editor.’

‘Oh so that’s what the issue is. You wanted to flaunt your ‘Good Luck’ that’s why you brought this matter of Suha.’

‘No I did not’ and so the volley continued until Suha’s voice boomed ‘Stop it you two and see what’s happened to Sanket ‘

That scream brought them to their senses and they ran blindly.

Sanket was cowering under the cot hugging his pillow, crying silently, no amount of cajoling convinced him to come out, until Suha herself squeezed herself down and persuaded him to come out. But by that time he was wheezing badly and was having difficulty in breathing. So they rushed him to their pediatrician, who checked him and put him on nebulizer.

Later the Doctor called them outside and said,” I am surprised that Sanket had this asthmatic fit. Both of you don’t have a family history of Asthma, do you?’ They bother shook their heads in negative. ‘Neither does he have chest congestion. The only reason might be that he is emotionally disturbed and in that case we might have to take the help of a child Psychiatrist.’

‘Or us a marriage counselor’, mumbled Anu.

‘Mrs Desai, you are right, sometimes family discords too lead to asthmatic fits in children. Especially those who are emotional. So if that is the case I suggest that you resolve your differences for the sake of the child.’ And he went back to the monitoring room.

While they both stood in silence, each one enveloped in their own maze of thoughts.

Maze(Continued)

2009-07-16T09:06:00.000+03:00

Anahita sat brooding with a coffee mug in her hand. True her father’s call had given her moral support but the ultimate decision would have to be hers. Then there was the letter from Suhani’s school informing that her attendance was low and if she doesn’t attend classes regularly, she would not be allowed to sit for the finals.

But she does go regularly to school. So if she doesn’t attend classes where does she go?, she thought. Enough is enough, I have to think about my kids future and take a decision soon otherwise everything will go awry.

Evening when Sanket was still playing with her friends, she went to her daughter’s room; who was busy chatting with her friends. She signaled that she wanted to speak to her and reluctantly Suhani logged off. ‘Suhani I got this letter from your school’

‘Hmmm, about?’. She asked.

‘Your low attendance, Suhani you do go to school. If you are not attending classes, what do you do and where do you go?’

No response

‘Suhani I am asking you.’

‘As if you are bothered.’

‘What?’, said a shocked Anahita.

‘Yes, Ma. Are you bothered other than your career, your husband and your chores around the house?’

‘What Suha, day and night I worry about you. I try to make everything easy for you, haven’t given any responsibility around the house so that you can concentrate on your studies, give you adequate pocket money, what else do you need.’

‘Exactly ma. You give everything except the need to feel wanted. Have you thought that maybe If you give me some work I will feel wanted. Have you thought that I too can share your burden? I too can be your friend and we can share problems?’ And she stormed off the room.

Anahita was disturbed. She knew that Suhani was right. She had been so much involved with her problems with Ajay that she had ignored her kids needs. The rest of the evening was spent thinking. Night when she couldn’t sleep she went to Suhani’s room and found it to be dark. So she turned back to hear a timid voice call out, ‘Ma I am not asleep.’

‘Suha I am not able to sleep, so thought of talking to you. What you said is right you know. I tried to be a good mother but forgot that I could be a friend too. I tried to give you everything but never found out your likes, dislikes, interests. But its not too late.I can still try.’ ‘…If you allow me to.’ She added in a small voice.

‘Maa, there is a girl in my class, Mary. She is an orphan, raised in a convent, now she does part time jobs to support her education. When I look at her I feel frightened. I mean leave the job part. There is no one to support her other than us, her friends. I mean whose shoulders she will cry if she is upset, who does she share her joys with, who does she fight with me. Ma I don’t want to be like her’ and she hugged her mother and cried.

Anahitas tears too flowed freely partly because she could feel her daughter’s pain and partly in relief. Relief of being accepted by her daughter.

‘Suha one question? You are not into drugs are you?’

And amidst the tears Suha started laughing,’Oh no, Ma do you think I am a moron, no not at all’

‘So where do you go bunking your classes?’

‘Oh that. Have you heard about JAYATI ‘

‘Yes, the theatrical group’

‘Well they approached me for a play’

‘They gave you a role?”

‘Hmm’

Jayati group was renowned theatrical group and to be approached by them was indeed noteworthy.

‘I didn’t know that you were interested in dramatics. I am indeed happy for you Suha and proud too. But studies too are important. Can’t you ask them to shift the rehearsals at a later hour so that you can attend school and then rehearse?’

‘I only asked them to keep in the morning hours’

‘Why?’

‘I thought you won’t like my doing drama’

‘Oh no nothing like that’

‘But Dad?’

‘I will speak to him but meanwhile you have to go to school. If you intend to do dramatics, no problem, but you have to finish your graduation.Okay?’ and she hugged her daughter.

She returned to her room humming to herself, at least tonight she had made a beginning.

Maze

2009-07-13T09:28:00.000+03:00

Anahita sat with her fingers on the keyboard but her mind far away. She was a columnist with a local weekly, writing her feature from home but was just not able to concentrate today. Earlier she had been able to keep her professional and personal life apart, but the recent events had confused her.

Married to Ajay for 16 years, having 2 kids-Suhani 14 years and Sanket 9, Anahita felt trapped. Initially Ajay’s possessiveness made her happy. She felt happy that her husband didn’t want to share her with anyone. But as the years went by she realized that it was not possessiveness but ego. While her career was going good, had got her name, fame and money, his had been slow going. She had been a banker earlier who had resigned her job so that she could devote more time to her family. Had taken up feature writing because it gave her flexibility of time plus she could work from home. Singlehandedly she had raised their kids, looked after their home, connected with friends and relatives while Ajay was BUSY. So where have I gone wrong, she thought. His constant nagging and bickering was getting too much.

She remembered in the beginning when she became famous, she had expected him to be happy for her. But instead found him to be grouchy and as the years gone by he had become sullen. She had taken a break for two months in the summer this year devoting her entire energy to the family but the situation had not improved. In the end she panicked. She thought if her marriage was going to break how she will survive without a career and rejoined her job. It had affected her children too. Suhani had become shrewd; she understood her parent’s equation and manipulated the situation to further her wants. While Sanket still young didn’t understand what was going on and had become confused and timid.

At the moment the phone rang. ‘Hello-hi Rob’, she answered. Rob was the editor of their weekly.

’Anu how is the feature coming up’.

‘Not so good Rob, been thinking’.

‘Make some decision fast, Anu, If u say no we have to think of alternatives.’ And he hung up.

Rob was retiring soon and she had been offered his position. Which meant a better pay, more responsibility and she would have to spend time at the office. Will I be able to do this but more important will Ajay allow. But do I really have to take his consent, am I his property?, she thought.

The phone rang again, she picked it up and said automatically, “yes Rob”

“Anu Its me Ma”, her mother said.

“Ma”, she said and the entire tumult of her life came out in tears and slowly she told her everything. In all the 16 years she had never told her problems to her parents not wanting to trouble them. But now she wanted solutions and didn’t know where else to turn.

Her father could sense something amiss when his wife spoke over the phone. And got real worried when she sat down with a sigh. “what happened’ he asked. And she retold the whole conversation.

‘ I think she should give up this career of hers and just do what he says. After all he is her husband and she should respect his wishes’, she concluded.

‘is it? Years back when she wanted to be a housewife, who had asked her to work? Because they needed the money. And has she ever neglected her duties. In fact it is he who has shirked his responsibilities. Has he been with her for any household chore or has he attended any school function. She has been managing alone all the time. He wants a wife who will earn and give him money but he can’t accept her as his equal. Hypocrite.”

‘I am going to call her now and tell her that whatever decision she takes, I am with her. Just because I have done her Kanyadaan does not mean that I have thrown her out of my life.’

Just Like That-2

2009-07-09T07:44:00.000+03:00

Its good to be back home. However much I miss my family, the peaceful sleep that I get on my bed with my worn out quilt cannot be expressed.

Some people make their own destiny and some like me just flow with the tide. But can I complain; no. and whom to complain to?

With the world population being ever increasing, does the Lord above have time to listen to our pleas?? I mean there might be so many requests every nano second.

Visited Siddhi Vinayak after 3 years and found it flooded with people but still found it very comforting. And while my son refuses to walk in crowded places, somehow he will manoeuvre and take me to the hundi:). Quite a benevolent chap.

His refusal to walk is sometimes helpful. I carry him and huff and puff and am allowed to the front of the check in, customs or immigration queue. The official at the check in even allowed me to place him on the counter. Airport officials in Mumbai have become people friendly.

It started to rain both in Mumbai as well as in Mangalore as soon as we left India. Which made me feel good. No I don't hate the rains. It just felt as if India was shedding tears on her daughter leaving her soil:))

It felt equally good on landing in Bahrain.There was no crowd, no constructons ( at least not on the way home) and ....no honking of horns

And now back to the same old grind.

Pakhi learns something new

2009-07-06T08:48:00.000+03:00

It was raining heavily. Pakhi was doing her homework. Her music teacher was away on a vacation, so she was tied up at home

Nani was stitching something. Her son had recently been transferred to Ooty.The wet, cold climate of Ooty didn’t suit her knees and so she was staying at Pakhi’s.

Pakhi finished her homework, surfed through the channels of the Television. Didn’t find anything interesting; so threw away the remote. Next she took a book to read, didn’t find it interesting either, so threw it off. Nani was watching all this in her usual unobtrusive way with her specs hanging over her nose. 'What’s the matter, Pakhi'- she asked.

‘I am bored, nani. This rain doesn’t allow me to play outside and there is nothing interesting on TV.’ she replied.

‘Nothing to read either?’, asked nani.

‘I have already read this book twice. Can’t go to the library to get a new one issued’, said she.

‘Hmm’, replied nani. Being an only child had its problems. Two kids can invent games and generally be busy with themselves, but how do you keep an only child busy?

‘Pakhi why don’t you learn embroidery?’ Nani had a brainwave.

‘Embroidery Nani? But that’s so down-market!’, Said Pakhi.

‘Down-market!! ‘,exclaimed nani.

‘Meaning its not the IN thing.’

‘IN thing’ said and exasperated Nani.

‘Who learns embroidery and all when you get readymade stuff Nani’

‘Hmm’ said Nani, ‘whats wrong in learning something new if it helps you be self reliant? Your Ankita didi has learnt stitching, knitting etc along with her studies’ , said Nani.

That got Pakhi interested. Ankita her cousin was her role model. She was doing her MBBS and was an all-rounder.

‘And all these designers-JJVAlaya, Sabyasachi Mukherjee who use such beautiful embroidery in their creations must have learnt a little bit of embroidery themselves, isn’t it? And think about the dresses you can beautify with your own hands and the adulation you can receive from your friends.’ Now the adulation part got Pakhi really hooked.

‘But Nani this looks difficult, will I be able to do all this.’ Pakhi remarked on seeing the intricate design that Nani was making on the pillow cover.

‘Of course you can. Lets start with some simple stitiches and see how you fair’, Nani said and picked up another piece of cloth.

Mummy came in an hour later to a silent home and busy hands.

Pakhi has a moral dilemma

2009-05-28T09:38:00.000+03:00

It was a Thursday morning and the first class was science. Mrs. Singh came in and announced that there will be a surprise test and all the kids started murmuring ‘No, Miss’, ‘Please Miss’. 'Nothing doing, class, I want to see how much you have understood and how much revision you do at home. So please keep quiet and start your test’.

Now Pakhi did not like science. And tests scared her. She often forgot what she had learnt by the mere mention of the word ‘Test’. So as soon as the test was announced she started perspiring.

The test was not that bad, she knew the answers to some questions, so she started to write down. But at that moment she saw Abhishek take out his notebook very quietly and copying answers. Pakhi was tempted. The image of her getting full marks in a surprise test and being praised lured her. And she too followed Abhishek’s path.

But she felt uncomfortable. She knew she had done wrong, but so what, at least she would get good marks.

Mrs. Bhogoliwal their Hindi teacher was on leave that day. So Principal madam took that class. All the kids just loved Principal Madam’s class. She would tell them nice stories. That day she again told Harishchandra’s story about following dharma and speaking the truth. She also cited Buddha and the eldest pandava-Yudhisthir. How he stood firm on the right path. ‘Children as you grow up you will always find two paths for any decision you have to take. The easy one and the difficult one. The easy one may give you name, fame and money easily but it may not be the right path. You may have to cheat someone or in some ways be wrong to the society. The right path is usually difficult. You may not achieve success in the beginning but you should keep on striving. The success which you gain by following the right path will always stay with you. Like Harishchandra who faces a lot of difficulties but holds fast on to the path he has chosen. In the process he loses his son and his wife is sold as a maid. But still he strives on and in the end he regains everything he had lost.’

Now this was all a bit hard for the 10-11 year olds to understand but Pakhi understood. A little at least. She understood that by copying she might get good marks but in actuality she had not learnt anything. A test is given to see what a student has understood. And she felt ashamed of herself. She felt that she had failed her teachers and parents.

At home she was silent. She felt a peculiar knot in the stomach. Until finally she went into the kitchen to speak with mummy. When Aanchal was told this dilemma she felt nervous, how does one guide one’s own child on a moral issue? If only Rahul was here but he was way on a tour. “What Madam said is true dear. See you have copied in your exam, which was the easy way and you may be praised for getting good marks but was it correct? No. A test is given to check whether you have understood the subject. So what if you had attempted the test on your ability, got less marks, get scolded, but you could have revised the portions again. If you had not understood then you could have asked me or the teacher and we could have helped you. So what you did was wrong”. “So how do I correct it, Mummy “, asked Pakhi. “Go to your teacher and tell what you have done. She may scold you but what you have done is wrong so you will have to hear it out.”

Next day Pakhi went to Mrs. Singh and told her what she had done and stood with a bowed head. Initially Mrs. Singh did get angry but then it turned to admiration for the girl who could come forward and admit her mistake. “My dear girl, what you did was wrong but it is good that you admitted it. Never repeat this mistake. Revise daily what we have taught you at school and attempt the tests on your own. For now lets keep this a secret between you and me. I won’t check your test paper but some day I will give you a surprise test. Now off you go to your class” she said. And off Pakhi went with a big smile on her face.

Questions.....questions...

2009-05-27T14:31:00.000+03:00

Disclaimer: The thoughts, expressions and events mentioned in this blog are my own. Any semblance to people or conversations is coincidental.

People say that I am impulsive. Meaning that I speak my mind and do what my heart says. My father whenever we speak tells me to control my tongue/control my anger depending on the flavor of the moment. Think before you speak etc. etc. But the point is that if I have to measure and weigh every time I open my mouth, its better to be a yogini and sit in a corner. (Lately I have been contemplating a lot on being a yogini. Getting liberty from wants, desires, expectations etc. But I am so much attached to my home, family and friends that I will be a failure in this venture too.) We desire so many things in life- a preferred career, a desired relationship but we achieve so little. In the midst of that if we can’t even speak what we want, then is life really worth living? I agree if every one behaves as he wants and speaks as he wishes then this world will become chaotic but sometimes at least occasionally we should speak our minds.

We are so very inhibited by social norms that acting on our instincts is a definite no-no. In the twilight of our lives we sit back and evaluate and feel sorry about missed opportunities and unsaid thoughts. Why is it difficult to say sorry to someone who we have wronged or thank you to someone who has inspired us? Why is it difficult to support someone who is right and to negate someone who is wrong?

I cry a lot. A wailing baby, an emotional scene on TV or while reading a book, anything can move me to tears. This means I cry often. My family tells me a grihalaxmi should not weep, it brings ill-luck. But my argument is tears give me strength, every mishap in my life I have encountered with tears. Every drop that I have shed has given me courage. So if I bottle my tears inside me, how will I forge ahead? Every person has his/her own methodology of building energy; I do it with tears, am I wrong?

To all my well wishers I would just like to say, all attempts to modify me will result in failure, I am genetically made this way, you see.

P.S. People are afraid to speak to me lest I quote them on my blog:(. So this disclaimer :)

The Crossover

2009-05-24T15:43:00.000+03:00

Mrs.Bhatia heard the raised voices when she was locking the door to leave for her evening walk, there they go again she thought.

Inside Shanti and Raj were arguing. ‘Raj, I had informed you that I will be late, atleast you could have started the dinner or could have ordered from some restaurant.’ ‘You know, don’t you I don’t like housework or outside food, I have brought Aryan from his daycare; do not expect more than this’ he yelled back. ‘Alright then let me quit my job and I will be happy as a housewife’ she retorted. ‘And who will pay for the duplex’ he said and went out after banging the door. They had recently purchased a duplex apartment. While Raj wanted a modest 2 bedroom flat it was Shanti who had insisted on a bigger duplex and ever since that had been their bone of contention. Aryan their three year old was cowering in a corner crying silently, he was hungry but the tears were more out of fear. In the end Shanti prepared a quick pulao and fed him. She was working as an Accountant in a not so big firm which meant she had to look at some other functions too apart from accounting. Her colleague who looked at PR and client handling was away on vacation which meant she had to look after his responsibilities too. Offices in the GULF were often like that, multipurpose use of employees, she thought and cringed. Her maid who came on weekends, a Sri Lankan lady was away on vacation. Atleast she would vacuum, clean the bathroom etc, now it was like a tightrope walk for her. And Raj just refused to help.

The next day too the workload was a lot but she worked through lunch hour so that she could reach home early. On the drive home she planned the menu for the night. As usual as soon as she came home, Raj left for the gym and she started preparations for the dinner. As soon as this dal is cooked, I will vacuum , the carpet has become dirty. That was the thought she had before slipping into oblivion.

Raj returned some minutes later to find a wailing Aryan, charred dal and Shanti on the floor. He held Aryan by one hand and tried to revive Shanti by sprinkling water on her. It took some time to revive her. But this incident made her a changed person. Though Raj insisted on taking her to a doctor, she refused. She became a very silent person refusing to speak to anybody doing her work with a ferociousness, her only objective being to finish her job. Conversation became void in their home.

Raj was unable to tap through the shell that Shanti had built around herself and he turned to their family friend Dr. Mala. She came to visit them and though she tried to speak to Shanti but couldn't. ‘Something is bothering her Raj’, Dr. Mala said ‘either you consult a psychiatrist or better you invite some family member here who could reach out to her.’ Raj thought of inviting his in-laws over but was met with a vehement No from Shanti.

At the same time his mother was facing some problem with her granddaughter. The problem wasn’t much –just generation gap but Raj thought it a good enough excuse to invite his mother.
Maaji when she arrived got a shock on seeing Shanti. The normally cheerful, bubbly woman had become gaunt and as silent as a ghost. And all her attempts to converse fell on deaf ears.

‘Today’s generation does not have any regard for elders. See Tania for example she wore such a tight dress , when I asked her to go and change, she retorted by asking me- what should I wear, a 9 yards sari?, tell me is this the way to talk to elders,’ she remarked one day to her daughter in law. “maybe the way you told her was wrong. You could have said something like- the dress is lovely but don’t you think it’s a bit too tight and she would have complied’ replied Shanti. Aha thought Maaji some headway. So what I have to do is to tell her my problems and slowly she might tell hers.

And so it went until slowly Shanti unburdened her grief on Maaji. One day Raj returned from gym to find his wife away and his mother waiting.’I have sent Shanti and Aryan to her friends’ she said, ' I had to speak to you, alone'. “What about, Maa” ‘ I feel ashamed that I have raised my son as a hypocrite. No, don’t interrupt and just listen for once. You chose Shanti to be your wife. Though Initially I was against the idea of a love marriage I agreed for your sake and also because she is so nice. She works, she keeps your house and you; what do you do. She is a human, she needs some rest too. Alright you don’t like housework but you could look after Aryan, you can take her out for dinner sometimes. You hate cooking but can’t you help with the laundry or the cleaning. Does it hurt your male ego to do such simple tasks.You take care of your body by eating well and going to the gym regularly but do you care for her needs. Have you ever asked her if she has had her meal, have you ever got a gift for her. I feel I have failed as a mother.’ Raj became thoughtful. In all his adult life, no one had spoken like this to him and this monologue had indeed been a shocker. ‘And do you know why she didn’t want her parents to come because she did not want her parents to see you in a bad light. You have behaved so wrongly with her still she wanted your honor’. Now this was indeed an eye opener for him

A month later maaji left for India, a happy woman. The situation had taken a turn for the better. Raj had changed, he had started helping is wife in the small tasks around home, even took her out sometimes. Maaji had told Shanti to be a little more assertive and she was reverting to her former cheerful self. And me, she thought I too have learnt a lot. This present generation is not that bad. They do care for us oldies, and they do uphold family honor as we used to do in our times. And yes I have to surprise Tania with my computing skills which Shanti taught me, she thought happily. And I have to chat with Mrs Bhatia and Shanti regularly. Life is not that bad she thought.

The Big Sale

2009-05-23T09:08:00.001+03:00

There is a big sale in Geant Hypermarket. The Big Anniversary Sale they call it. We had been on Thursday when there was no sale and the store was virtually empty. Yesterday we had to return to exchange an item and lo, the crowd....

I have often tried to analyse why people get attracted to offers, big sale, the 2+1 schemes etc. How many of us really check on the pre sale price and the sale price. The electronic items which are put on sale are usually because the particular item is being phased out of the market. We often don't bother to check on the quality of the clothes being on offer. Anyway the crowd around clothes, linen, electronics is so huge ( reminds me of bees buzzing around a honeycomb) that you cannot check on any of the items leisurely.

I saw a couple who bought 2 vacuum cleaners which made me think that they might be keeping a vacuum in each of their rooms. Or maybe they wanted it to gift it to somebody. Then there was an offer for Afia oil; 1.8lts*2 bottles. A man bought five such bottles, which made it 18 lts in total. Which made me think that maybe he drinks oil in place of water or maybe he has such a big family.

Billing is always a problem in such sales as each cart will be so piled up that you have to wait for long in the queue even if you have just 2 items to bill.

But the thought which came to my mind was do we really shop during sale because we need something or just because there is an offer and we cannot resist it. What is the point in buying things just because there are offers and piling up the junk at your home?

Pakhi learns some facts

2009-05-20T09:37:00.000+03:00

It was Monday evening and Pakhi was waiting for the singing class to begin when a chauffeur driven car stopped and a girl stepped out. Oh it’s Sheetal thought Pakhi. Sheetal was her classmate at school. Wearing a hep dress she stepped into the room and said “ Hi everybody I am Sheetal”. Pakhi tried to hide amongst the group of 6 but Sheetal had already seen her. “Hi Pakhi .You too come here. I met Aysha Dang the popstar the other day you know, and she advised my parents to send me to some singing class because I have a good voice, so here I am”. "Oh is it, so nice”, murmured Pakhi . Just then their teacher arrived and the classes began. Normally she enjoyed singing classes but today she just couldn't concentrate, her whole focus was on Sheetals dress.

Mummy found Pakhi in a solemn mood, she tried to probe but the only answer she got was that Sheetal had joined the singing classes. But she couldn't understand what the problem was, she knew Sheetal Dasgupta was the local industrialist’s daughter but what happened if she joined the classes, she wondered.

In the coming days Pakhi got disinterested in the classes to the point that mummy had to literally push her out of the house. One day she found her daughter in front of the mirror modeling. She had pulled her skirt high up so that it reached just above her knees and the T-shirt off her shoulder so that it looked like an off shoulder top. “Hmmm, my daughter is growing up” thought Aanchal, “it won’t be long before we will be discussing clothes and…boys”, she thought gaily.

But the next day found she found Pakhi in tears, "what happened Darling.” She said. “its Sheetal, ma”. “What did she do”, asked her mother. "Nothing but she always wears such fab clothes and me the same 5-6 outfits. You know her dresses are so good, all bought from INFINITY.” Infinity was a designer store for young ladies. “And she always brags about the dinners she has in different restaurants, I feel so inferior, Mummy”. So this is the problem thought Aanchal. My daughter is growing up and is discovering the world and the worldly pursuits she thought. How do I make her understand that we are middle class and can’t afford such luxuries?

That evening she said to her husband, “Hey Rahul why don’t we go to the Bistro on Saturday” "Bistro, Aanchal do you know how much a single bowl of soup costs there”, her husband enquired. “Yes I do but…” “But what”, Asked Rahul. And out poured Pakhis woes. “Oh so you want to please Pakhi. But I don’t think its right Aanchal. We might placate her a little by taking her to some fancy restaurant but she has to understand that we can’t afford it. Not now at least when she is confused. Let her understand the class differences in her own way then maybe one day we will take her to the Bistro but not now.” “Alright but let us get at least an outfit from INFINITY, just to make her happy", Aanchal pleaded. “No. If we fulfill this wish she will feel that we can fulfill all her expectations which in reality we can’t. Aanchal she has to know the difference between wishes and reality.” “OK” murmured Mummy; she didn’t agree with her husband’s logic but decided to keep mum for peace’s sake.

But she did speak to Rohini, Abhishek’s mother. She and Rohini too had been classmates and she told her about Pakhis troubles. "Oh Aanchal its just clothes and restaurants. My son is imitating the boxing styles of our cinema heroes and also the way they smoke. How do I make him understand that smoking is indeed injurious to health”, wailed Rohini. Oh growing up pains thought Aanchal.

Some days later Aanchal had packed Pakhis favorite Aloo parathas in her Tiffin box. Caught between her husbands ideologies and her daughters wishes, she was trying in her own ways to please Pakhi. During the interval Sheetal came and sat next to Pakhi and said “may I sit here” and proceeded to ask her,” what have u brought. Oh aloo parathas, yummy I just love aloo parathas. Can I have some”. “Sure” Said Pakhi. “Hey your cook cooks real nice” said she. “Cook? But these are made by my mummy” Said Pakhi. “Your mummy cooks?” Asked Sheetal. “Yes”, replied Pakhi,”your mom doesn’t”. “No” said Sheetal and proceeded to tell that her mom was busy doing charity work, attending parties to raise funds for some or the other social cause, how her cook cooked and her maid helped her with dressing up etc and her tuition teacher who helped with her studies. How she met her father rarely and her mother on weekends when they went out for lunches and shopping. And in turn Pakhi told her about her family how they did all chores together, how they did gardening and played scrabble and in the end Sheetal remarked, "You are one lucky girl Pakhi” which made her very happy.

Evening mummy found Pakhi joyfully playing with her friends as soon as she saw her she came sprinting and hugged her and immediately proceeded to tell her what had happened at school. Then Aanchal gave her a surprise; a pretty denim skirt and pink off shoulders top, “not Infinity dear but..” “But this is just fab mummy just wonderful. I LOVE YOU” and off she ran to try the new dress.

So this hurdle is crossed, thought Rahul, what is up next?

Just like that

2009-05-19T09:13:00.000+03:00

I don’t believe that Prabhakaran is dead or for that matter Benazir Bhutto or Saddam Hussein. Don’t know why I don’t believe; is it because my faith in the TRUTH has decreased or too many of K serials.

This morning My Ethiopian neighbor banged her front door so hard that all the doors and windows of our apartment were shaking for 10 minutes. My ears are still ringing and teeth still trembling. But the ache in my knee bones has subsided. I guess all the bones fell into their right slots.

I am jealous of Sonia Gandhi and Priyanka Vadra . No it’s not because of their POSITION but because of their cotton saris. I have never been able to discover saris of such quality in any showroom.

I am afraid of using step escalators. I feel as if my feet will be stuck between the steps. Yes, I know its highly improbable but still the fear exists. I know people who know me (and my size) will be laughing hard.

Everyone used to be busy orkuting, not anymore though. Why? People have lost interest or moved to the next 'in' thing or……… Offices have firewalled orkut.

Why do people apply strong perfume; to hide body odor, to attract others or to repel them?

Most offices in Bahrain have a tray with a flask of tea and cups kept in the reception area for any visitors. I wonder if those cups are ever washed.

And on a somber note:The relatives of the man whose car was firebombed in Ma’ameer last month are being offered BD 35000. Can life and money be ever equated?

खामोशी

2009-05-17T12:22:00.000+03:00

खामोशी भी कई जुबाने बोलती हैं,

कुछ अनकहे अहसास,

थोड़ा सा तकरार

बहुत सारा प्यार

कुछ आसू गम के

कुछ खुशी के मुस्कान

बहुत हैं जुबान खामोशी के।

On thursday evening

2009-05-16T12:44:00.000+03:00

On Thursday evening-our weekend here we had been to ISKCON. It had been a long time and we had heard that an idol of Balram had been included. We reached at about 9 p.m and a bhajan session was in full swing. My son initially shy; sat on my lap, slowly graduated to clapping then to standing up and swaying to the beat and eventually running around. He just loves to play on the banister in front of the Lord. The third time he did so and the priest gently asked him not to (for the second time) I got embarrassed and took him to the inner room.

The sight that met my eyes delighted me. There were about 30 kids of varying ages in 3 batches of 10 each, busy with their own activity. All were sitting cross legged on the floor. One batch was having drawing class, another shloka and the third was having a story session-an interactive one. Their body language showed that they were enjoying the sessions and were not forced into it. When the aarti was to take place outside, the class was adjourned and each got up and bowed before his teacher in true Guru-shisya parampara.

After the aarti Prasad (dinner)was served. While all sat down the children made their own Pankti (line). As per ISKCON tradition the first person in the line will be handed a plate already laden with food and he in turn passes it to the person next to him and so on. When all the people had received their plates, the kids without prompting said a prayer thanking the Lord for the food. And my heart swelled with pride. These were children brought up in Bahrain (most of them were even born here) and were following age old customs without any grudges.

In our yearly sojourns to India I feel the increasing western influences on the society there. While I find Westerners here more interested in India, Indianess, Hinduism and Yoga. When I used to work as Course Coordinator I had been asked questions from our scriptures, traditions etc which sometimes I was unable to answer and used to rush back home to research on.

In case you wonder that the children were behaving like automatons let me also tell you what happened later. As soon as we all started dinner while we adults were busy gobbling up and in a hurry to return home, the kids were relaxed and chatting away. Topics ranged from school to IPL to …yes Indian elections. The menu that days was rice, dal, sweet pongal (Jaggery rice-don’t know what it is called exactly) and mattar paneer. When the volunteers came with second servings all kids cried out in unison ”Prabhuji-Paneer”. :)

The Decision

2009-05-13T08:22:00.000+03:00

Vyjayanti woke up with a start to the strains of –Kausalya Suprabhat…..and groaned. It was only 6 a.m. and already the house was brimming.”Appa will you please reduce the volume” she yelled. After her father’s retirement the house had become a shrine. Morning times there were always the smell of incense and the chanting of the mantras. Yes amma too was devout but her godliness was silent. Only 10 more days and she would report to work for her first job in New Delhi. Can’t they let me sleep in peace till then she wondered. 3 more hours for Animesh’s call she smiled to herself. Animesh her boyfriend of 3 years always called her up before leaving for work. He told her everything from what he was wearing to his agenda for the day. Strange she thought, he was a North Indian but had got a job in Bangalore itself and she a South Indian had got one in the North. But she was looking forward to it. “Vyju if you are awake, don’t loll around, get up”, Appa called and dutifully she got up.

Two months into her job and life was rocking. She was sharing an apartment with two other girls. Weekdays were hectic. Weekends were spent partying or exploring in and around Delhi. She spoke everyday with her parents and Animesh. Her career was not going that great but beginnings are always like that isn’t it, she thought. Learning concepts in a classroom are alright but applying those principles in practice was a different ballgame altogether. But all in all life was fun. I have the best of both the worlds she thought contently

It was October and already Delhi was getting cool. Vyju was gaining respect in her office and her colleagues had accepted her as one of their own which included Rohit her team leader. He was smart, handsome and excellent in his work. Vyju was getting attracted towards him. Why am I attracted towards him, when I have Animesh, she thought. Animesh with his blind loyalty to her. He would ask her opinion on everything before deciding. Unlike Appa who dominates and accepts that everyone will follow his wishes. Is that why I chose Animesh because he is the exact opposite of Appa, she wondered.

Mid November early on a Saturday she was lying on the bed and thinking. Animesh had come to meet her Last week and he had still not changed. Still the same clingy type. Yes she like men who took a woman’s advice but she wanted her man to be assertive too. Heck she was missing home. The smells and sound of home, Ammas cooking, arguments with Appa etc. She hated coming home to an empty apartment and always the vision of Amma with hot coffee for her and Appa waiting for her in the balcony would appear before her eyes. She even missed Appas high octave Shlokas she thought. Let me visit Akka maybe my homesickness will be cured she thought. And get some good home cooked food. I love North Indian food but not everyday. Gimme some sambar rice and I will be ecstatic she thought.

Vyshali, her sister elder by 8 years was married, had two sons and lived in the suburbs. She was the reason that her parents had allowed Vyjayanti to come so far. They knew that Vyshali will keep an eye on her younger sibling. “Hi akka, how are you,” she had thought it better to call up and then go lest they had some other plans. “Hi, Vyju I am down with a cold”, she replied. “ Oh I thought of visiting you, is it ok “, Vyju asked. “Come da I am longing for some female company and have sent everyone to my sis-in laws place, so we can have some peaceful talk,” she replied.

On reaching her sisters place she found it to be in a mess. She first cleared it up. Then cooked some rice and amma’s magic rasam. Ammas rasam the recipe which had been passed on from generations was the magic cure for everything from an upset stomach to a mad mood. ‘Akka why didn’t you call me if you were so unwell", she complained. “ You are so busy Vyju didn’t want to disturb you.” “Come on Akka can’t I spend some time for you” and thus started their conversation. Akka with her topics on her family and Vyju about her job. “ Akka You know I don’t like Animesh any more, he wants me to mother him. I don’t want a baby, I want a man and you know there is our team leader Rohit –handsome, brilliant in his job but a bit pushy.” And she became silent. “Why Viju, Did he get physical with you?”, her sis asked. “uhh no. I know that he is attracted to me but his mannerisms scare me” she replied. “ Don’t be alone with him,” her sister advised. “I Won’t,” she replied.

“I asked Amma what she would do if you selected your own spouse,” Akka said.”You did. But Amma is like a scanner she knows what goes in our minds and she definitely knows about Ani and me, what was her reply?” “Amma just smiled and said although you were a rebel, you were a conservative at heart.” “Huh what did she mean by that?” “ Just that Vyju in the end you will get married in a traditional way” “Ha me get married matching horoscopes, no way.” At that moment the kids arrived and conversation came to a standstill.

A week later and Vyju was bawling her heart out. She and Rohit had had an animated discussion and had moved to the vending machine for a coffee when he had tried to fondle her. When she had given him a look he had feigned innocence as if it had happened by mistake. Why do I land up with the wrong men she wondered? First Animesh who was the clingy type and now this Rohit. I have met so many guys but none who measure up to my expectation, why?
She spent the whole night thinking and got up in the morning to compose a mail;

Dear Appa-Amma,
I know you will be surprised on receiving this mail but the thoughts I wish to convey can be expressed in writing and not verbally.
Recently I have started feeling the need to share, the need to be loved and to be cared. In short the need of a companion. I have met many guys here but none have satisfied me.
Yes I am ready for the adventure called marriage. Amma you were right I am more conservative than I thought. And I know that you know what is right for me. So I know you will find the right guy for me. My only condition is that the guy be a professional and that I be allowed to meet him before finalizing so that I can check if our thinking’s match.
With all my love
Yours
Vyju.

Hostel Days

2009-05-11T08:19:00.000+03:00

As a child I wanted to 'grow up' and be 'independent' and now I long for the good old days. No it doesn't mean that I am unhappy presently but just the proverbial case of the grass being greener on the other side.

I always wanted to stay in a hostel. This was due to an overdose of Enid Blyton's St. Claire's and Malory towers. Circumstances were such that after my Class 12th I had to stay in hostel for my BCom. I was supposedly to join some college in Bangalore but as soon as I emerged from Bangalore City Station and saw the traffic I got scared. So when my father later asked what would I prefer-Bangalore or Mysore, I preferred the latter.

My parents friends Mr. and Mrs Parthasarthy became my local guardians and the following years had the best of both worlds for me. On the one hand I truly became independent ( which included washing clothes and doing bank work, managing on the allowance my father sent etc.), Having fun with friends, getting a good education and enjoying family times on weekends. Uncle and aunty embraced me as on of their own and those 3 years I shared all joys and festivals with them. Once there were riots, the college was shut down, the hostel was deserted and I was wondering what to do as there was no way I could travel to be with my parents; when I get a message that there are visitors for me. And there they were, risking a curfew to take me home. So off we went on the deserted roads riding three on a 'lamby'. With aunty I formed a friendship which still exists. After my convocation have never ventured again to Mysore fearing that all those beautiful memories and again parting with Uncle Aunty will bring pain. Yes, I am an escapist.....

Mysore exposed me to a traditional society, their different views, the food and the beautiful climate. This was also the first experience of meeting a cross-section of people. In Bhilai all people work for the Steel Plant and so all were equals i.e. middle class but in Mysore there were rich, poor, traditional, modern. In short I met all sorts of people, a wonderful experience.

MBA in Warangal exposed me to a different set of people all together. People here were more of the Upper class, there was cut throat competition and again this time I experienced the traditional Andhra society- their culture, food and language. Being a residential set up the grind and fun were both unique. Days were spent sweating or sometimes dozing in the class, evenings were spent in preparation of case studies or around a bonfire (in the winters) or taking long walks (in the summer). But I often felt lonely as there was no home to go to on weekends as in Mysore.

My real taste of independence came while working in Mumbai. Being financial independent gives a different kind of freedom. My stay here was in Yuvathi Sharan a working womens hostel run by Nuns and Here I was exposed to the Catholicism. We used to have Roll Call in the night followed by a passage from the Bible to be read by one of the girls and then hymn singing. Weekends there would be mass but never attended any because either I would be asleep or visiting my relatives. My sister and her family gave me the 'home feeling'. Travelling first class from Dadar to Andheri on a fast local with the wind blowing on my face gave me a HIGH which cannot be expressed.

All together staying in a hostel hasn't been bad at all. It gave me an exposure to different cultures, people and society which otherwise I wouldn't have got. It was also during this time that I realised that however much I liked to be with friends; I craved for a home and during my stay in Mumbai decided that it was the right time to have my own 'HOME'.

Pakhi has a new classmate

2009-05-06T12:07:00.000+03:00

It was the first day of Standard 6 and Section B, Pakhi's section was buzzing. Pakhi sat content and smiling happy to be with her classmates again when there was a sudden hush and the Principal arrived along with their class teacher, Mrs Fernandes and a boy- a lanky boy with a lopsided grin.

"Good morning,class", she said.

"Good morning Madam", they chorused.

"Well we have with us Aditya a new entrant to our school. He is a special child of God so be nice and kind to him. Wish you the very best for this school term" she said and was gone

Special child, aren't we all special to God wondered Pakhi.

"Abhishek will you please move to the next bench and Aditya will sit with Pakhi", said Mrs Fernandes. Ugh thought Pakhi, she hated changes. Abhishek and she gelled well and now he was being moved.

When school got over, Mrs. Fernandes gave Pakhi a letter to be given to her parents. She thought it must be something to do with her grades and hopped off.

Evening as usual as soon as her mother arrived Pakhi started her banter about what happened, what all she did etc. "Mummy you know there is a new boy in our class,Aditya. he looks bigger than us, must be a failure. He writes when he feels like and not when the teacher dictates" giggled Pakhi, An do you know Principal said he is a special child, but mummy aren't we all special." and on and on she went, but her mummy had stopped listening after the term special. "And yes mummy, MUMMY" yelled Pakhi.

"Yes beta."

"Madam gave a letter for you and Dada, see" she said and scampered off.

Mr. And Mrs.Sharma it began

We have a new child Aditya , a child with special needs. We have decided to place him next to Pakhi. We know you may have objections to this but Pakhi has an understanding and patience which very few of her age possess. But she lacks assertiveness and is also shy. We believe that this liason will be beneficial to both.

In expectation of your cooperation

Regards

Mrs Fernandes

On behalf of the staff -Vidya Niketan

Late in the night Mr and Mrs Sharma whispered amongst themselves, "Rahul I don't think this decision is right", Mummy said

"Aanchal, Have to trust their judgement, Don't you remember that when most of the staff were against Pakhis admission because she couldn't yet recite ABC in her Pre primary, Principal agreed to take her saying that she had gifts which other kids didn't have. Wasn't she right, Pakhi made us proud with her writing abilities. Lets wait and watch," Dada said

Days passed. While Aditya wrote when he felt like and listened also when he felt like. He was good at basketball and also painting. He was teased a lot by the other students because he failed miserably in all the subjects and he spoke very less. But to all teasing he just gave a grin.

Sometimes when the teacher dictated he threw away his pen. then Pakhi would pick it up and cajole him to write and he used to listen to her. All her free time was spent in teaching the same things to Aditya again and again. Though all the teachers were taking extra classes for him it was Pakhi whom he responded to.

But in the process Pakhi lost her grades too. She usually came in the first three ranks but in her First Unit Test she came 6th.

Mummy was furious. She made her sit down to study. "But Mummy I have finished this in the afternoon". "No you have to do it again in front of me", screamed Mummy."I won't "yelled Pakhi and left the room.

"I am telling you Rahul this Aditya will be the bane of our daughter", she said to her husband.

"Aanchal, why are you hankering after grades. Its education that matters. And remember she is growing up and learning to be assertive', quipped Dada.

That Saturday they had a get together. And as everyone knew that Pakhi was going for singing classes, everyone forced her to sing and pushed her forward. Oh she is going to embarrass us, thought Dada. Being shy she always hid behind her mummy and barely spoke to anyone.

'Thumakki chalat Ramachandra' began Pakhi but when she raised her head she got scared and stopped. After sometime she closed her eyes and started again. Her crystal clear voice reached a chord in every ones heart and they sat mesmerised. When she finished she received a deafening applause.

"Pakhi what happened when you started to sing", asked Dada on their return home.

"I started to sing but when I raised my head I saw Bansal aunty's grin and got scared".

Dada smiled to himself. Mrs Bansals toothy grin scared many -adults included."And then" he probed.

"And then I remembered Aditya", she continued.

Oh Aditya again thought Mummy.

"You know everyone will tease Aditya but he will concentrate only on the ball and the basket and scores basket after basket. I did the same, closed my eyes and concentrated on the lyrics and sang", she said and went off to sleep.

And we say kids are immature thought Dada

And mummy was thinking, Mrs Fernandes was right this liaison is indeed beneficial to both.

Dawn

2009-05-05T13:47:00.000+03:00

I got up today to the chirruping of birds and it gladdened me. The merry chatter of the sparrows, pigeons and crows vitalised me.

From my childhood I have the habit of standing near the window and absorbing the sounds and sights of dawn. The very next day of my arrival in Bahrain I had opened the window and got a shock. Living in crowded Salmaniya all that could be seen were rooftops and TV antennas. Even my stay in Mumbai had not prepared me for this sight. Having lived in Prabhadevi (Yuvathi Sharan) which still has some trees, this concrete view had indeed jolted me.

The birds have made their home in the hollow blocks of the compound wall of our current apartment building at Gudaibiya. Don't know what they eat but I used to keep water in a vessel for them. But they never even glanced at it and the water used to get evaporated. Till curiosity got the better of me and I leaned out to find all the birds gathered around the water collection tray of the A/Cs and merrily sipping ice cold water:-))

Intermission

2009-05-02T18:44:00.000+03:00

Vidya climbed up the stairs sighing. It was just May and already the heat was unbearable. Teaching tiny tots as such was tiring, coming home at 2.30pm in the extreme heat was unbearable. She could feel the sweat trickling down her back.

But the thought of her daughter running towards her in joy as soon as she opened the door brought a smile to her face. Her daughter Akshara, 6 yrs old finished her school at 1pm, By the time she came home her husband Hemant would pick her up, feed her and start her on her homework. He being in sales had split timing as many others in the Gulf; 5 hours in the morning and 3 in the evening. Of course he never returned on time in the evenings.

But when she opened the door she could feel that something was wrong. She found Akshara sleeping and Hemant watching TV with a long face. " Oh something is wrong", she thought, "Hey had your food" she said cheerfully. "Did you want me to wait for you" he replied. Something disastrous she thought gloomily.

She finished off her food, cleared the dishes, took a deep breath and went and sat near her husband and asked, "Hemu whats the matter?"

"I have got one months notice, Vidi", he cracked up,"what will we do?"

"Whats the reason", she said.

"Kunnimoosa"

"Oh" she said. Kunnimoosa was the manager at her husbands office who was always trying to belittle Hemant. Vidya suspected he felt insecure because of Hemants abilities.

"I am confused, what to do? Return to India or search here for another option?" Being a good salesperson the sudden ouster had shook him.

"Search here for another option", She replied,"Don't forget we have two loans back home to pay off. So update your CV and start distributing," she said.

Why do always good people have to go through tough times, she thought while lighting the evening diya. Her husband was a good honest person who always had to struggle for everything. Anyways I have faith surely he will get something. Otherwise how to pay off our home loan and the other loan. The other loan was the loan taken for her brother-in-law's business. As if we are millionaires she thought bitterly. But then immediately she thought, I shouldn't think like that. Bhai saab is the one who raised Hemant like his own son. It was only right that we help him out in his hour of need, she concluded.

10 days passed but Hemant still couldn't get any placement. Vidhi informed her school authorities that she might be leaving the job. Stopped buying any provisions in the thought that if they have to leave the country they have to finish off the existing stock. The next step she thought was to inform her neighbours and friends that they may be selling off their furniture and then wait for any buyers.

Back in India they would have to ask their tenants to vacate the flat. Oh my God she thought henceforth there never will be any peace. She felt as if she was under a scanner with her mom-in- law and Manjubhabhi around. They could find faults with whatever she did. Right from her bobbed hair to her dress sense to her cooking. But everything is not so bad she thought, we do have our good times, those chai time gossips, those shopping sprees, she smiled. And of course going back to Mumbai with its eateries and its "busi"ness will be fun. And its pollution too she sighed.

Another week passed and Hemant was completely demoralized. The loss of a job added with the fact that he could not find any other opening made him feel as if he was no good.

" Come on Hemant maybe its for the better. Maybe something good is waiting for you back home." She said. " don't know Vidi, what happens if I don't get anything how to run a house" and the first time in their married life he cried.

"Hey come on Hemant don't cry.Don't you know tough times never last, tough people do". But she too was shattered.

During her evening prayers she always spoke to God. I have always spoken to you God about my troubles and our joys. Please don't desert us now. Don't let him lose faith in himself. I will offer a special puja for you at Manama Temple if you show us a way God and immediately thought am I bribing HIM?

2 days later she came home to find Akshara playing at their neighbours and her husband missing. Calling on his mobile she found it switched off. She felt an evil foreboding but kept on repeating to herself-no news is good news.

Hemant came at 5pm with a box of chocolates and hugged her. "Vidi, vidi I got an opening in a British concern". "Really", she said. "Yes, actually they are our customers and the GM liked me. When he came to know that I have got the sack he himself offered me the opening and you know at double the existing salary. Vidi I am so glad."

"Me too", she said. thank God she thought, is it because of my bribe?

OK now I have to tell everyone that there is no sale of furniture and also the Principal has to be told that I won't be leaving.

'Listen", she yelled, "lets go to Megamart, have to get some provisions. I will cook up a storm tonight. After all its time to celebrate", she said jubilantly.

Today.....

2009-04-29T10:53:00.000+03:00

Everyday I begin afresh;
But sometimes in doubt.
Who am I really?
Where do I go from here.

The thirst for knowledge.
For inner awakening
The wait for serenity
All in a toss.

Sometimes this confusion
Jumbles my day
I begin on something
And change it midway.

Where will this yearn
take me today
Its time to begin
A brand new day!!

आशा और उपेक्षा

2009-04-28T08:20:00.000+03:00

कभी कभी ज़िन्दगी आशा और उपेक्षा में बंध कर रह जाती हैं। आशा की जो भी चाहे मिल जाएगा, उपेक्षा की सारी आशाये पूर्ण होगी। बचपन से लेके बुढापे तक बस यही दो तो मुख्य धारणाये होती हैं।

बचपन में किसी खिलोने की आशा, यह उम्मीद की वोह हमे पिताजी ले देंगे। जवानी में मनपसंद नौकरी की आशा, यह अपेक्षा की उस नौकरी में हमें शान्ति भी मिलेगी । यह उम्मीद की हमारा जीवन साथी हमरे भावनाओं को समझेगा, हमारे अध्यात्मिक गति को न रोकेगा। निरंतर आशा और उपेक्षा।

पर क्या इन आशा और उपेक्षा के बगेर जिन्दगी जी जा सकती हैं। क्या ज़िन्दगी इन दोनों के बगेर बेरंग, बिन स्याही के पन्ने की तरह नही हो जायेगी। क्या बिना रंग के तस्वीर अच्छी लगती हैं भला?

पर कई बार इन उपेक्षाओं के कारण मुश्किलें भी आती हैं। आशाओं को फिर भी बाँध कर रख सकती हैं। उपेक्षाओं का क्या करें। दिल हैं की मानता ही नही। उम्मीद कर ही बैठता हैं।

क्यों हम उम्मीद करते हैं की सामने वाला हमारे भावनाओं को समझेगा। या यह उपेक्षा की ज़िन्दगी में हमारी सारी आशाएं पूर्ण होगी। अक्सर इन्ही उमीदों की कारण दुःख , तिरस्कार सहन करना पड़ता हैं।

क्या ज़िन्दगी बस यू ही जियी नही जा सकती। बीना किसी उम्मीद के। खुला मन, खुले विचारों के साथ। किस्सी से कोई उम्मीद न करें, जो जैसा हैं उसे वैसे ही स्वीकार करे। ज़िन्दगी जिस भी पथ ले जायें उसे खुले हाथों से आलिंगान करे? क्या यह इतना मुश्किल होगा?

Travel Plans

2009-04-26T08:37:00.000+03:00

We expats live from vacation to vacation. At least we in Gulf do. Its hard work for 11 months battling adverse weather and one month of bliss catching up with family, friends, relaxing, absorbing the sounds and smell of India.

We begin planning quite in advance with the booking of tickets, then the haggling of vacation dates with the employer. With these two decisions made, the rest of the planning starts. Shopping for example. Shopping for gifts to take back home, shopping for self. Usually all the malls shops etc will start their 'sale' from April itself and we will be on the lookout for some good bargains. Then if you have a scattered family like mine plans have to be made as to whom to visit and whom to leave out on that particular visit and domestic travel planned. Plans!! plans!!

On the home front too there's a lot to be planned. Foodstuff get spoiled quite fast here owing to the humid weather. So have to see that nothing is hoarded, the flour and the pulses have to be consumed before the travel. And as most of us will shut down the refrigerator, it has to be cleaned out. As drinking water is bought, have to see that the water bottles are emptied and dried. The furniture has to be covered with cloth as the upholstery really gets dusty owing to the carpet. Sometimes get so weary, by the time we get our boarding pass that just feel like dozing off in the waiting area provided the overhead sound system allow to sleep.

We usually travel first to Mangalore, it being my in-laws place. As a kid I used to love travelling to Mangalore as it had a certain old world charm with its tiled roof houses and lush greenery. In the rainy season it was just awesome, everywhere green and fresh and the smell of the soil was just wonderful. Nowadays there are only apartment blocks, tiled roof house are lost to the outskirts, trees are also being extinct, even the thick trunk trees lining the roads have been chopped off in the guise of road expansion. If its raining its alright otherwise the heat is really something. And power cuts don't ask. But the charm of meeting family, catching up with all the news, attending the numerous family and temple functions and all the mouth watering food, That all thankfully still exists.

This time hopefully I will be visiting Ukkunagaram. That's the place my parents reside with my brother and his family. Its the Visakhapatnam Steel plant township in coastal Andhra. Just few days are enough for me to relive childhood days as we used to live in Bhilai another steel township. Just a few days with family without any responsibilities and being pampered like a child again, feels good. Ukkunagaram being a township has a green belt. So can see some trees. Plus want to show my son the way I grew up. Let him run around the grass barefoot, see some cows, goat etc, all the things he misses here.

People talk about the thrill of zero gravity spots or bungee jumping. For me the prospect of open windows, an expanse of greenery through it and breathing in some fresh air is thrilling enough.

Pakhi and her worries

2009-04-22T11:55:00.000+03:00

Pakhi was playing with some pebbles, some make believe game. Humming a tune to herself, she was happy. Her Standard 5th exams were over and she had a break of 15days. Her nani had come down from Lucknow to be with her. Nani was fun. She allowed her to be herself not like her mummy and dada, who were always after her; do this, do that. She could sing, dance, play with pebbles, mud whatever she wished for, with her nani around.

It was good that her nani arrived, her mummy having started going to work recently. Because it had become very expensive for a single person to run a family-her father had said. She had not understood what he meant. But nowadays they did go out for dinners and were planning a vacation in the May Holidays which was fantastic. They had never been on a real vacation before, just the routine holidays to visit family.

It was good of nani to come over-she thought otherwise I would have been bundled off to Mamaji's house or to some camp she shuddered at the thought. She hated crowded places.

'Pakhi, Pakhiiiiiiiii' her nani called. 'Yes nani', she replied and ran towards their home.

'Phone for you, beta, your Principal', her nani said.

O my God, Have I flunked, have I flunked for the first time, she thought.

"H..h.hello", she said.

"Good Morning, Pakhi, do you know why I have called", Madam said.

"No, Have I failed the exam".

"Oh No no", and Madam laughed a hearty laugh. "You remember the essay competition on My Dream for which you had sent an entry in February".

"Yes" she mumbled

"Well you have won Second prize and the prize distribution is on April 5th in New Delhi. Pakhi are you there"

"yesss MMadam" she said.

Well I have to discuss it out with your parents, can you ask them to meet me tomorrow at 10.30 am at the school. And yes Congratulations , my dear." and disconnected the line.

Pakhi sat quietly in shocked silence. "What happened, beta", her nani said anticipating some bad news.

"Nani" she said," I won an essay contest and the prize distribution is in Delhi".

"That's wonderful news, Pakhi, but why are you so confused".

"dada wont like it nani".

"Why?" Nani said.

"Because it will be expensive to go to Delhi".

"Ha ha", nani laughed," but they will be so proud of you dear. Come lets call them up and inform".

"No no let them come home and then I 'll tell them". But she was not sure if her nani could keep a secret. So she said" say God promise I wont tell"

"Ok, God promise" her nani said,"I wont tell" but she was thoughtful.

The rest of the day Pakhi was worried, how their budget will be affected, will her father be upset, will mummy get leave. When she had been sick last month, Mummy's boss had not given her leave. Will Boss Uncle give leave now, she thought and so on.

Evening her mummy arrived, and asked "how was the day, beta". Good she muttered and went back to her painting. Father arrived"how is my sona", he said. Fine she said.

Dinner time they all sat down to eat. "Why ma does she have a fever, why is she so quiet," Mummy asked Nani

"Pakhi, that's it. Are you telling them or should I". Oh my God has she flunked, mummy thought. Oh my God she has broken something, her dada thought.

"Dada, Mummy I won an essay competition-second prize and the prize distribution is in New Delhi" she uttered and felt as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

"Oh my God, My god" both screamed in unison. "Such an honour and you are telling us now".

"Well she was bothered that it will be expensive going to Delhi so was hesitant to tell you", her nani explained.

"What" Her Dada said. "No darling, Nothing is expensive for you. Whatever we earn, whatever we save is for your future. Your happiness, your success is of the utmost importance, baccha, no thing else matters. And he came and hugged her tightly. Mummy came too and enveloped both of them

And everything was fine in Pakhis world again.

I object to...........

2009-04-21T08:22:00.000+03:00

A couple of days back we had a guest. Everything was going smoothly until the time he decided to make a call and promptly got up and went in to the bedroom. Now this irked me. I do not mind close friends going into my bedroom but a relative stranger; that too without permission?? I definitely do object to that. Agreed that getting network is a problem here with buildings built quite close by. But nobody can barge into any body's bedroom on this pretext that too without permission. Normally I like to offer my guests a proper 'chai nasta' but that person so irritated me that he just got a glass of water-from my husband.

Then there is this lady who on her every visit will go through my wardrobe and kitchen cabinets. Don't know whether she does it to find faults or to learn a lesson on -how to keep a wardrobe. I have decided that on her next visit I will keep the wardrobe and cabinet doors wide open to save her the trouble of opening them.

There are neighbours who will talk at the top of their voices in the corridor or while bidding farewell will talk for hours on the doorsteps without bothering that it might disturb others. There may be children sleeping or someone sick but who cares. They don't even care that someone might be eavesdropping their conversation and there might be some adverse results. A lady bragged about her purchases- some gold, electronics, clothes etc for her impending visit to India to her neighbour. The very same day while she was at work her house was burgled. Here apartment blocks are relatively safe. Usually main doors of buildings can be opened only with key or intercom, but on that particular day some maintenance work was going on in that building. Rest is obvious.

Then there are people who like to party-at home. I do not object to that but when there is music on full volume... Its alright in the summers when the drone of the A/Cs keep the noise down. But in winters it becomes intolerable.

I find that the more 'advanced' we are the more selfish we become. Does it hurt to be a little more caring about others??

कहाँ गए वो दिन

2009-04-19T08:25:00.000+03:00

गर्मी के पसीनो में
याद आ गए वो बीते दिन
बचपन के वो प्यारे प्यारे
मस्ती में बीते दिन।

वो दिन के कड़कती धुप में
नंगे पाँव आँगन में घूमना
डांट पड़ने पर फिर
दोड कर घर चले आना।

धुप में सुखाये अचार की अमिया को
चिडियों से बचाना
फिरे चुपके से इधर उधर देख
ख़ुद ही खा जाना।

भोजन के समय
भूख न होने का बहाना बनाना
फिर बाग़ के आम तोड़
छिप कर खाना।

शाम के वक्त वो
लॉन में शटल खेलना,
थक जाने पर
ठंडी ठंडी आइस क्रीम खाना।

बत्ती चले जाने पर
भूतों की कहानी सुनना,
डर लगने पर फिर
भजन गाने लगना।

सोने के वक्त
चारपाई का बाहर बिछाना,
नींद न आने पर
तारे गिन गिन कर फिर सो जाना।

कहाँ गए वो बेफिक्र दिन
वो निश्चल दिन,
वो लड़कपन के प्यारे दिन
कहाँ गए वो दिन बीत।

Where is Bahrain Heading

2009-04-16T08:18:00.000+03:00

Two news features which caught my eyes and kept me thinking for quite a few days. Both very diverse and both affecting the future of this island kingdom. First the good one.

There is going to be a farmers market in the Bahrain International Garden Show. Farmers market? That was the question that first popped into my mind. To my knowledge, vegetables are imported from Asia mostly or from neighbour-Saudi Arabia. So it was heartening to note that most of the vegetables are being locally produced now.Tomatoes, brinjal, cabbages, zucchini, cucumber, onion are being organically produced locally . Some fruits too like blackberries, papaya, jujubes. For an island dependent on desalinated water, this is mighty impressive. Farmers at Al Burhama have also started flower cultivation. Flower cultivation include dahlia, freesias, gladioli etc. This is apart from the usual dates and bee cultivation for date syrup and honey respectively. Government Agencies are giving full support for such ventures. The thing to note is the zeal of the people to cultivate. When compared to the situation in India where increasingly agricultural land is being converted to housing or factory sites, this is impressive indeed. From a country which was previously almost entirely dependent on imports for its fruit/vegetable needs to a country on the path of self reliance; hats off to Bahrain.

The second news item which caught my eye is of a solemn nature. Following a spate of student violence which includes the bomb throwing incident on an expats car ( who later succumbed to injuries) and the protest which ended in havoc, The Ministry of Education is proposing a 'Zero Tolerance' rule wherein any student found guilty will be expelled from school. Not only that he will not be getting admission in any other school. But will such a rule be effective?

Rather than imposing such a rule won't it be better to find out the cause of such unrest and address them. Zero tolerance will just make these youngsters more intolerant. Is the education system faulty, is it not serving its purpose or are they angry because they feel expats are taking away their rightful jobs. these are the questions to be asked.

Teenagers have a lot of hyper energy which need to be channelised, encourage sports, literary activities, cultural activities. Actually speaking teenagers here have better facilities when compared to other nations. Its just a matter of guidance. In my opinion we need counselling centres, career guidance cells. And more important we need people who are patient and tolerant enough to guide these teenagers. Rest will follow. And of course there need to be correction centres too. There might be such centres here but I am not aware of them.

So on the one hand we have a Bahrain which is trying to be self sufficient in its basic needs. And on the other hand we have young insecure people. Its time now to give direction to their lives and head to a better tomorrow.