Let Go!

This must be shared with my readers for there’s such a revelation in this one that it’s almost like a catharsis of sorts...

It comes from Deepak Chopra, the famous author and spiritual guide. He says that the greatest preaching of the world comes from just two words... “Let go”!

Yes, just these two!

Take in a deep breath and hold on to it.

Keep holding on and on and on, till it becomes impossible to keep it inside any longer and you feel constrained and suffocated. In a while you have no option left but the let go and breathe out. You find that once you do that, it returns to you with greater intensity than before and also relieves you of the feeling that you were about to burst.

We all hold on to our grudges, relations and disappointments allowing them to go within and create a negative abode. We let it harbour and co-exist inside creating almost a life for itself in our inner recesses. Whereas these negativities prey upon us slowly and surely...they rot within till we succumb body and mind to it or decide it’s time to let go. When we have to do it sooner or later, why not sooner and spare ourselves the agony of bearing it along.

In school days there used to be a famous saying that all of us liked to quote whenever we were called to rise to the occasion to give an elevated counsel to someone in need...and the needy here was always one who was smitten and broken in the game of love. We always consoled with the words... “If you love someone set them free...if he comes back he is yours, if he does not...he never was”.

With what child-like innocence we carried forward this advice almost like a legacy, not realizing its true import. If we want to feel truly unrestrained, more than just in the movement of our limbs...we have to let go and set free...because that’s the only way...the happy way to be!

The What-if Man...

(This is an excerpt from a magazine article written by a famous female writer Tishani Doshi. I found the piece truly amazing and an echo of my own sentiment...gawsh, how I wish I had written it! Anyways, I share it here and hope it stirs you too...kudos to the thought!)

Male female relationships are circumscribed by expectations and slotted into categories- boyfriend, father, brother, friend. But some elude this classification and testify to the pleasure of the detour. These bonds flirt on the lines between formality and intimacy....And yet these are often men that we still want despite it all...

“In recent years I have come to realize that it’s impossible and a little unfair to expect one man to fulfil all your intellectual, emotional and sexual needs. Once you get your head around this idea and let go of the monochromatic, either-or vision of the world, you begin to see a whole grey spectrum out there. The relationships that are most important to me now are those that defy category or logic. I call them my what-if men. What if he weren’t married? What if he lived in the same city? What if he weren’t ultra religious or didn’t do drugs or loved dogs? The range of the what-if man is truly awesome.

A relationship with a what-if man is a nurturing one, it may be fleeting or permanent, but it is nothing like the cliché of an affair, which is hot and hurried and poof! Love and sexual tension may hover over the periphery, but for it to really work, certain boundaries have to be maintained- that’s right, no sex because physical intimacy puts a spin on things and slides it into murky territory.

You may hold hands with your what-if man or not. You may unburden your darkest secrets and fears or not. You may consider each other as your ‘back up’ or not. The joy is in recognizing something special in another human being, in making that connection regardless of timing and circumstances, and learning how to draw fire from it.

My favourite what-if man is 40 years older than me: a demigod in his own country, a poet and a political hero. We meet once in a year, if we are lucky; eat spaghetti alle vongale and drink copious amount of wine. We talk about ways of living and share histories. When people look at us, undoubtedly they’re thinking, what’s going on there? But it is nothing inappropriate or sleazy. It’s just what-if. What if he were younger or I older? We meet, we talk, we return to our lives, and we carry the other person with us.

The great beauty in what-if is that you never take anything for granted because there is no ownership or expectation. It enjoys a longevity that other relationships can’t sustain and it exists in continuity always shifting and moving to accommodate both your worlds. The what-if man represents possibility, yearning. His place is never fixed. If you know what you want and what you are willing to allow, it’s worth having a what-if man or two or three in your life; like manna straight from the skies.

The American Slang...

Let’s face it: America and Americans have done a lot for us...

Look at the vanishing clothes, the shifting culture, the independent youth, the empowerment of the single woman, the concept of old age homes-for the better or the worse and many other instances of urbanization that we owe to them.

However, if anyone wants to be urban chic in a jiffy, jump on to their slang bandwagon and there you may get entry to the most upstage circles. In a recent survey it was found that the quality most youngsters look for in their partners is the ability to speak in English, coming in line or at par with good looks. Hmm....impressive! So that’s why these English speaking schools do so well in India!

Anyways, I recently came across a book- more like a dictionary on the American slangs ‘From Flappers to Rappers’ and though at first glance I was put off with the idea that who in god’s name would like to read a thick, dumb book on slangs...but like always happens, upon deeper introspection it managed to get my attention for it was simply amusing and often bordering on the verge of being hilariously ridiculous. I have hand-picked some of these which managed to make me twit.

Ok, so next time you want to insult your peers with something that they won’t understand...call them...GONUS-the dim wit and all their talks can be termed as HOKUM or BALOONEY which in layman’s terms would simply mean nonsense...hehe...And this gets better... If he catches the joke slowly he is simply BONG. If he talks too much he’s a BAGPIPE and if he’s out of the ordinary in terms of good or bad, he’s a LALAPALOOSA...wow, sounds so cool, right? The Americans call the effeminate young man a COOKIE or a CREAM PUFF...hmm, how delectably thought provoking and an unpopular girl would be a ROACH...how disgustingly metaphorical!

One’s girlfriend may be addressed as his PUMPKIN...hello! Have u guys ever seen what a pumpkin looks like? I mean...kuch bhi bol doge yaar! BLAAH- it’s just no good...But then I like the term CUDDLE COOTIE- a young man who takes a girl for a ride...I like it specially coz there are so many of such dumb a@# around...you cuddle cooties, sudhar jao! These guys believe in the dictate of TOSS AND HIKE- to reject one girl and pursue another...hmm...aren’t the figurative implications of these terms amazingly outlandish?

A woman over the age of 30 is ROCK OF AGES...sadly I am an aged rock too...boo hoo! And a good looking boy is a PASHPIE or a DUCKY!

A ducky.....oh what fun to call one a ducky...! And if my dearies, you do not find these terms as laughable as I do...u can always tell me to CUT THE GAS...means not switch off the gas cylinder...but switch off my mouth...or just simply ask me TO TAKE THE AIR...means just leave. But as I know and believe that you would not... I continue with my empty talk or more appropriately and topically stated BOOGWASH...till you find it to be DITZEK- something funny.

I am hell bent on giving you something SWELL and SWANKY...don’t scratch your naughty heads on this one coz it just means something very good. If you still persist in saying RHATZ to infer how disappointing...hear this one...If someone comes up to you and says your PINKY IS OUT OF JAIL... my friend you may never know a Pinky or have the need to know one...it just means that your slip is showing and so proper up! Oh come on...don’t be such a POOPER or WET BLANKET- don’t be a killjoy and gimme a grin, a guffaw or at least a smile. I had to go through 133 pages to select these especially for you...couldn’t bear to go through the rest of the 233 pages...I am human too!

So being my SCOOCH-my buddy and also SQUISHY- forgetful (of the sin I have committed here of making you go through this bullshit)...just tell me to BOOT IT BABY...yup, it’s again not what you think...god bless your dirty mind...it just means...way to go! I guess this has been enough for both you and me...before it becomes a PISSER – a disappointing experience, I would just MELT-disappear...or hmm...let me just HANG IT EASY-see you later!

The Monkey and the Dog!

Coming back home from my evening walk, I was halted on my path after witnessing a strange sight. A handful of people stood almost in a circle, theatrically with heads turned up towards the branches of a huge peepal tree.

As if by natural human curiosity, I also looked up wanting to know what was so intriguing. Up above were a couple of langoors and down below a couple of street dogs...

Ah! The same old menacing monkeys rising proud as stumbling blocks on my path and tumbling thoughts! But then something in their antics made me quite enjoy the break that I had taken in my sojourn.

The monkeys had slyly come down from their turf challenging the dogs to guard their home ground. These long tailed animals moved ahead with cautious steps and the most watchful eyes while the whimpering doggies kept a sideways glance at these fellas, as though pretending that they weren’t interested in these kiddish games. But the monkeys were not born yesterday either. They knew it was a trick and showed their teeth in a scowl. The dogs retaliated in an angry growl.

Wow! How human like this one! No wonder we are said to evolve from these monkeys and dogs are our best friends...because we behave so much like them. The monkeys had absolutely no intension of conquering the marked territory of the dogs...they cared a damn. For them this was just a tease...rising out of boredom or a fanatic bid to prove their might or simply the exhilarating thrill of challenging the mighty! The dogs knew that the monkeys don’t want their land...their homes were elsewhere upon the branches. But big bloated egos and a thunderous bark to boot had brought in the audacity to play heroes. The monkeys took a step too close and whoosh the chase began as the former leapt from trunk to trunk to go beyond reach and the latter gave its main and might to teach the cowards a lesson.

The monkeys went up the tree, chattering in loud obvious humour and pleasure of having fooled the dogs below...oblivion to the fact that they were the timid ones who ran off from the battlefield. They swung about on the branches...as though mouthing an unspoken challenge... “now jump doggies...you were trying to be tigers in your home front...get to our homes and see what we do to you”.

The dogs below moved with smug satisfaction thinking they have affrighted the enemy and proclaimed their grit and guts. Not realizing that even a rat is the king of his own hole.

And so with little battles likes these...fought and won...and having had the fun...the creatures of the world...big and small...reversing roles of being meek and the gutsy...continue to live on....!

Of Bags and Boots...

Hmm…Is there anything more precious to a woman’s heart than bags and boots? Hey I didn’t ask the men here…for they would have a volley of options…Ask a woman and she would readily comply with my hypothesis which should actually be backed by scientific observations and universal conclusions. By bags I mean those lovely complimentary tit bits and sometimes even the overalls that adorn our delicate shoulders and miniatures that get clasped in the tender grip of our palms or rather let’s say we add to their beauty…the sling bag, the clutch, the tote, the purse, the carrier and many other manifestations of this quintessential necessity for the fairer sex. And by boots please take into account the flats to the wedges and pumps, the tie-ups to the stilettos, the strappy bare-alls to the belle, high end boots to slip-ons and sandals and limitless other avatars. We love to boot and boot up.

I noticed the first signs of this fetish behavior, years ago, when I was walking across a show window in the busy, buzzing lanes of a market and a beautiful specimen of human creation in wedge heels and crocodile skin black leather, with just about the right amount of embellishments to save it from being termed as ‘over the top’, stared right across at me in the most longing of a glance that said, “Pick me up, hey pick me up”. And surely as magnanimous as I am with poor souls/soles that need my timely assistance, I obliged, causing my face to break into a big smile and my little bounty into a big hole. But the possession of that wonderful pair of sandals to stylishly complete the extreme tip of my body with a sleek edge was an experience of unadulterated satisfaction, almost a catharsis of sorts!

So there began my love affair with shoes, that time and indulgence seemed to have blossomed to its full splendor. God in his great designs of mischief has bestowed me with soft, beautiful, fair and shapely hands and feet (never mind his negligence in doing so with the rest of the body)…so that whenever I try something on my feet, it conspiringly looks stunning, if it is even remotely worth its mettle. So I am left helpless with no alternative but to pick it up from the shelf. Most pieces practically scream at me that we were made for each other as the lyrics of this song come alive in the backdrop…“hum bane tum bane ek duje ke liye” …and when fewer men substitute in doing so instead, you just have to succumb!
Thereby I have always had just a drawer full of meticulously picked exclusive bargains, and I deliberately never allowed that space to be enlarged for fear of immoderation that I may never be able to resist.

Although in all fairness, maybe extravagance and age…oops…I mean maturity, has brought about a steadiness and thankfully the wisdom to buy now only that which is a must-have only by normal human standards or qualifies in the category of love at first sight. I still swoon and get floored by the sections that herald “new arrivals” or “50% discount” but then prudence helps me walk down the aisle without a sheepish stance. I have now managed to withstand temptation after realizing I have three pairs each of black, white, bronze, silver and beige and with God as my witness, let me assert here that they suffice even in the biggest of crisis. (See I don’t go about matching my garbs with all variants of colors…I am a selective and sensible buyer despite all the impression that I have provided herewith). I have my little treasure in stones and swaroskis, in ethnic and modern variants, in suede and jute, in straps and shoes and of all sized heels possible. Hence the malady for now is under control and thankfully my drawer space reminds me to keep things in check for I would rather die than stuff beastly all these little wonders in a cramped up space of suffocation.

Hmm…and coming to purses…imagine the striking apparel, the appropriately used accessories, the perfectly suited stilettos and hairdo that charms with every lock…yet hands so bare and open, with nothing to hold on to…tch, tch and sob, sob. What a tragic waste!

And hence the relevance of the ladies purse! Imagine again guys, your little Blackberry and how it serves by giving you the world in your palm! Such is the purse for us…we can never dream or dare to leave our humble abodes without them. So as an obligation upon all you guys who always wanted a sneak preview of ‘what IS in our bags’, here’s a guided tour. Depending upon the size (for my dear friend, anywhere and everywhere size does matter), it can carry for us all our lethal weapons of mass destruction to our first aid kits of self appraisal, to our emergency relief tokens, to our bare essentials- the license (driving waala yaar, not license to kill), the cards (invitation waale nahi oye, the credit cards, membership cards, etc), the make up relievers, the cell phone, the hair brush, the pads and pens, the wipes and cleansers, the errands reminder list, medicines to pop, precautions if we get to hop and even technical gadgets like the I-pod or the camera…not to mention loads of dough to keep us going on and on and on. Hence the purse is just not functional, it is the very prop upholding our exterior demeanor of impeccable perfection and sanity.

Hence my dearies, it is equally crucial to stock up these bags in all shapes, sizes and utilities (does it strike a similarity with the guys we have in our lives…mmm…purely coincidental and unintentional). So whether it is branded or local…made from genuine leather or faux off-the-street style, we must have them all to match up to us on all occasions.

So next time when you want to score big time with us, please don’t attempt to open your mouths…just open your benevolence and take us shopping for bags and boots…and maybe, just maybe you may not go wrong this time!

The Nutty Game of Nicknames!

Pinks, Swats, Aku, Vaiby, Shubhu, Rinku, Vics, Adi… nicknames galore wherever thou shalt lookst…
What a beautiful form of expression this is!
Something so warm, cuddly and personal about it, that it immediately endears and binds both the giver and the recipient!

I for one, have grown up with a volley of names addressed to me and I love each one of these expressions as though they were music to my ears. People from my toddler years know me as Ruchi, Ruchu, Ruchirum, Ruchooo, Ruchs….besides the Multani concoctions like Baghella, Bagghi, Bagadbilla, Matki…Please don’t ask me for literal translations because as you can deem by the sound effect of these inane fabricated words, that they are not very flattering and not the least bit interesting enough for you or anyone for that matter, to comprehend them seriously as a legacy to be carried forward.

Then of course is my official name, Suruchi, which my parents had so appropriately hand picked for their one in a million offspring…that’s me at your humble service. It’s a name that often evoked contrasting emotions…At times I was proud of it for it is a rare name and quite traditional…I never had to bear the humiliation of facing any comedy of errors risen through mistaken identities, because anywhere and everywhere there has been just one of me…figuratively and statistically. Imagine the upside of bearing the stylish arrogance of being a Suruchi in a room full of Nehas, Sonias and Poojas…mmm…too good.

However, whenever I made a phone call and god forbid the domestic help would pick up…I would have to encounter a battleground crisis in making him repeat my name to carry forward the message to my friend… “Kya naam bola baby aapne...Suchi...acha Ruchi… oho…Shuchi ya Shruti…?” is what I heard before I banged the phone on his face. And I could just meditate… “@$^%$#@... never mind u twerp, the “baby” would spend her father’s hard earned dough and call again…you please rest in peace…”

And then youth dawned and enticing introductions came in my social life buzzing with latent activity…
Soon ‘Suruchi’ was brewed and blended and reinvented for by itself, the public in general had great apprehensions and even mortal fears of using the whole of it. ‘Suruchi’…Some wise guy even had the audacity to comment that whenever he started uttering my name, he fell asleep by the time it came to an end…Hmpf…the world is brimming with thoughtless characters who know not how they err till thank god for justice as on the Judgment day they should have to answer for this all…!

Suru, Susu, Suchi were the innovations of some dim minds that did not bother to go through much thought process…
The “greater” minds came up with sushi, kiddo, cootchie, bebe, sweetie, sushu, surams and other unmouthable oddities…

Thank you my dear friends for presenting me to the world in such a thundering blast that I often succumbed with the lightning that fell with it. Aw…naah…actually I love listening to these endearments, differing from person to person…
And ask my dear beloved of what he calls me and be prepared to be drowned in a list of at least 20 (being an understatement) of names he has for me…baby, jaanu, sweetu are the only safe ones that I can oblige to disclose here…for the rest are almost blasphemous, inexplicable or just simply insane. So I spare the poor soul.

Most of my friends and family have also been blessed with names that I bestow in all my magnanimity on them…usually without much of a thought process….Ankur is Anik, Swati is called Swats, Ritika is Ritz, Anita is Ani, Shweta is Shwets, Kittu is KitKat, Gauri is Gauriya, Nidhi is Nids, Ridhi is Raddison, Vivek is Viv, Tushar is Tushki, Imran is Immi, Vaibhav is Vaiby and Vibhor is Vibsy…Aakriti is Aku while Srinivas is Sri, etc, etc…and anyone acting dumb enough is perpetually a Dodo…my eternal favourite!

How I love addressing them with my own names…again perhaps symptoms of a human hunger for being able to act like God…give others something of our own…determine their identities and quantum of how precious they are to us through names we judiciously or just on a whim pick for them. Whatever the motives, it is a nutty game that spices up life….so play on! And if I have not addressed you with a nickname yet or you chosen a flattering one for me still…
“The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But we have promises to keep,
And miles to go before we sleep!”

Hang in there, My Friend...

You stand at the shore my friend
Looking at the sinking sun about to be inevitably gobbled by the anxious sea…
The turbulent waves rising ambitiously to reach up to the proud sky,
While the clouds on the horizon run helter skelter as though to emphasize their superiority and establish that they are beyond reach.
The wanton breeze raises dust and blinds the vision,
The threatening winds resound with a fearful roar,
All birds rush home and the animation of life on shore fades inconspicuously.
The bright blue hues of the clear skies…merge into a dirty orange and then ominous shades of purple…till darkness would take over completely…
You wonder,
Is nature also rattling and all elements going mad?

The sun begins his transcend and downfall…
Evoking an eerie emotion within you as though
Nature is reverberating with what you are going through.
You look around to search for the path to choose
And fear accompanied by doubt chooses to confuse.

Tied up in rough times, hang on my friend
For when it seems the very end
Be mindful also of the knell
Sounding commence of something else…
A new beginning, a different meaning,
That requires comprehension and adaptation from our baffled minds…
Change is difficult…
But haven’t you conquered the most intricate of situations before…
Which exasperated, ruffled, shattered and tore?

When times around us seem outlandish, people bizarre and situations at the extremes,
Remember my friend they can take away your all,
But they can’t take away the spirit that makes you what you are…!
Let the surroundings seem fanatic and destiny indifferent,
But you must stand tall and proud before the storm…
They can’t make you zany or ridiculous
For years of judicious decisions and prudent actions take years to be drained down…and yet traces remain!
You have evolved slowly into what you are…
Not another atom in the system of things, but a system of its own…that can’t be rubbed, dubbed or snubbed!

No storm is strong enough,
No rough winds can uproot us…
For this is a journey and milestones remain…
If we have traversed through the good ones,
The bad ones are just a transitory pain.
Autumn is followed by spring, sunset by sunrise,
The waves have the upsides and also the slides…
But sooner or later with what we have in us,
We would win over what is happening around us.
Life is never always easy and often not fair…
But my friend, let’s keep moving ahead with a smile
Let’s put up a fight and just hang in there till we turn the tide!

Ma...

It’s strange that I always wanted to write about my mum here but in the monotonous sing-song of our lives and being gobbled up by our self chosen impetuous priorities, we sometimes need reminders to jolt us to return to the feelings that make our very essence. So this Mother’s Day and through this kind of declaration I pay a tribute to my mum, without whom I think I would lose the very will to carry on in life.

This is the most honest reflection of my inner most heart. For years rolling down from my childhood well into adulthood, I have lived in this belief that if god forbid, something ever happened to her...I think I would commit suicide or die naturally of grief...As years move on now and we get to see less of each other, due to my own overpowering work schedules, I sometimes feel perhaps it is God’s own way of lessening my attachments and thereby the subsequent pain that might follow in worst case scenarios...!

Oho...but let’s start with the good...!
The best...my mum!
The word that always brings a smile on my face!
She is not much older than I am...say just 19 years before I adorned the earth, she did!
Yup, she was married early and babied even earlier...!
She says I was in a hurry to come out to her and like in everything else she tells me, I believe her.
I often tease her that the hurry seems to be in ‘other’ things and how desperate could my parents get to forget about words like control and caution.

And of course I also needle her about her name...That naana ji and naani ji must have completely run out of names even on their first born among three more that subsequently followed, to name her Pinky... I mean Pinky!!!!!!!!!!!!
Whoever would torture his own child to call her that...?
And then she would smile her warm, pinkish smile that spreads from ear to ear and completely disarms the person in front and you would know she could not possibly have another name! Though she has that too- Amita Khosla... and there that brings us to another round of goblin laughter in which she almost always joins us.

Right now I am going through an influx of myriad emotions and experiences that I want to share about her, tumbling randomly and I am feeling the urgency to put them to words before they get lost in translations.

My mother has been a wonder woman. She manages to keep the house rational and running, cooked mouth melting dishes, raised undoubtedly good children, remained a weakness and temptation for her husband, stupendously well handled a toughly pleased mother-in-law and also managed to remain the social queen bee. Whew! Where does she get the boundless energies to be this one woman show? I snoop around for some magical portions that may induce so...but I have stumbled upon everything from sane to inane, except any of these...! That reminds me of how once when my parents went out and I busted their closet to satisfy my curious bones when I caught hold of video cassette of porn...
Almost aghast partly that my parents could do so and devilishly smug also that chalo at least they are not completely divine...naturally human too...and whoa, ‘wild’ humans!

My mother has lived for just one reason...our happiness.
She is intelligent, witty, and resourceful and all the rest of the things that spell success of a modern day career woman...But never for once has she regretted not having a vocation to boost her morale... ‘We’- my brother and I, are her rewards and her husband is her everyday occupational perk. How can one be so complacent in life I wonder when I look at her? There were endless nights when as tiny tots and even teenagers, we came into her room at 3 or 4 am in the stark darkness and said, “mummy neend nahi aa rahe” or “ma bhook lag rahe hain” or “mom pet mein dard ho raha hain” or simply “ momma bura sapna dekha, dar lag raha hain” and she would open her arms wide and give a nice bear hug and shift to the remotest corner of the bed to fit us in and do all of this smilingly as though we have done an obligation on her by doing so! She’s that amazing!

Arrey and the only word that truly describes her is “mast”.
In fact many a times I tell her ‘mom, you are an item really’.
When with people, her gregariousness knows no confines. Hers would be the loudest laughter, the naughtiest or rather dirtiest jokes (which she sends to me too as messages on the mobile) and no matter where she is, the crowd seem to be gathering around her and the party begins then. She shamelessly loves to hog the limelight and firmly believes the only place to be in, is in the centre of attraction and action...now I know for sure my genes come from her! As rarely happens, when she is not made to feel the queen in a gathering as she rightly deserves to be, we know to expect... ‘Oh, the party was alright...nothing much!’ (Ah, I am so bloody hell like her...that it is spooky!)

While I was growing up, she has been the perfect friend...though snooping around often and laying sometimes strict deadlines and limitations, I like most teenagers do, managed to break them keeping her in oblivion. When years later now I poke her by saying... “Ma, aapke aankhon mein bahut dhool jhooke, aur aapko pata bhi na chala” ...she gives me that bizarre frown, which I can never really comprehend if it means ‘how could u do this to me’ or ‘I knew it sweetie, but I let you live in your own world of beliefs’.

I remember when our school bus would be late, in whatever weather, she would come out at the house gate and keep peeping down at the street’s end where the bus would drop us...sometimes for a good bloody hour, just standing and churning there in her insides. No matter at what ungodly time and notice we would call our friends, she would cook and smile and gossip with all of them. Even now, if I call her up and tell mom I am coming abhi...she would drop everything she is doing no matter how crucial or promised to anyone, to be with me. She just masters the art of being there, whenever, however, whatever! I tell her if I can be half as good a mother to my children as she has been then alone would there be a point in motherhood!

Waise this narration does not imply that my father, brother and beloved do not do wonders...but then today is Mother’s Day and even without it, she deserves exclusivity. Besides if I add about them here too as my blessings...I tend to get superstitious yaar...nazar lag jaate hain na...!
So I’d keep the illustration of their perfection for some other time.

Once after some years of being married to my beloved, in a moment of great romance, when you ask questions out of the other to gauge your significance in his eyes, he had asked me... ‘Rate the top five people in your life’. And in a Raja Harish Chandra-mode, with all my brutal honesty I had put my mother on the number one slot followed by his name. And as soon as I had said that in a jiffy, without diplomacy or pretence, I knew it had been the biggest of truths. Mums are irreplaceable!

My mum has been my anchor...my guiding light as well as my daily dose of sunshine!
I would laugh with the world deceiving them of my moods but I just have to say “hello” on the phone and she has to ask ‘what is wrong, your voice is screaming of tension’.
She has to find something good in whatever I do and however I may be looking...and even if she begins to get into that checking or gyan mode...I just have to tell her ‘ma, chill, I know what I am doing’ and she trusts me on that...just like that!
She has the smoothest of cheeks that I can’t get enough of to kiss...and the strongest of hugs despite her not so big frame for which I have to tell her... ‘Mamma, saans nahi le pa rahe...lemme go’!

Within a blinking second of a tear even beginning to surface in my eyes, even now, her eyes would have already turned watery...and our family would call us drama queens! In fact sometimes I tell her so only ‘mom, thode zyaada over acting ho gaye...relax!’
You have to see her dance on the floor with a Helen like pout and nice moves when she shakes it and I jestingly remind her to mind that ‘bhudhappa’ and she has to retort back, “buddhi hoge tere ma!”
Oh I can go on and on, but then I am quite ready to burst here with emotions. I have never really thanked her enough or God for her...but then for me she is my living God. I believe in Goddess Durga Ma only because She is a form of the word that means “ma”.
With both these moms by my side my soul rests in peace and may this blessing be by my side always. Amen!

A Spectator at an All Boys' Hang out...

Mmmm...What a great predicament for a girl to be in!
However if a girl were given admittance to such an arrangement, wouldn’t it defy the very purpose and definition of such a night out?
So the best that we females can do to satisfy our curious antennas on such a time, is by jumping upon inferences made after an ‘I-am-sure-it’s-edited’ recital of the happening event by our beloveds or attune our own sensory perceptions of the “man”kind to come up with a James Bond-ish take on what may have transpired there!

However before indulging upon the humour of it, let us first classify the men into categories prior to the assassination and post mortem...for God in all his magnanimity as well as in his mischievous designs did not make all men similar.
Thank you God for the small mercies...we would have been happier had ‘they’ been bigger...but then you being a man when we asked for ‘big’ you conspired to give these men ‘big egos’...so now we rest in peace with our list of wishes!

A group of teenage boys together:
Flashing their mobiles, muscles and machines...showing text messages of the girls they got hooked to their charms...talking about who is the latest exchange students programme entrant in the school...How short was Sakshi’s skirt or how Ayaana was caught smoking in the girl’s locker room...Discussing their first experiences with porn or first inhibitions and hiccups about going all the way...Talking about the new booze or the occasional tasting of drugs...or then just simply making one of the boys a victim to pull his leg and eventually flaunting how many gals they have slept with....Little men are simple and structural.
Teenage boys are not so complicated in design...it is when they move up the hierarchy that they learn the games!

Of course there would also be a geeky group that would simply study and discuss the gravitational forces and law of opposites attracting, without any even coincidental reference or relation to the physicality of it all.

A band of twenty-something’s:
These are the fresh escapists out of schools and colleges...struggling to make a bang in the career world and a conquest in the love lane...What would they discuss on a typical night out?

How many gals they got hooked to their charms (...some things don’t really change with time, evolution or understanding)...how hot is the boss’s wife...Who is the b@#$%& who snatched away your girl from right under your nose and how you have to now teach him a lesson...How parents and their expectations from you completely suck...How manly-man you really are and yet the parlour that handles manicure to facials to waxing for men! A step by step manual of how to ‘patao’ girls, as intricately as how to ditch a gal you are done with....How to date a married woman...and how to make sure you don’t run into unwanted risks after you’ve been there and done that!

Do I hear the boys scream of this being not fair- “We don’t always and only talk about women!”
Oh yeah...you don’t? And I am the queen of England....yaar jab aap itne lambi lambi phenkoge then I have to retaliate too with an equally pompous assumption!
To keep up with the modern change of preferences, quite possible if some of these meets are testing waters to seek like-minded gay guys, who may be ready to mingle! Possible hain yaar....

And then of course is the geeky group...which has by now taken up the status of being the “intelligentsia”, the ‘driven’ gang...They would be discussing budgets, banking, recession, cut throat competition, ambition and where they see themselves five years from hence...never mind if their adrenalin is pumped in just one direction...their boring bakwaas continues to haunt each other.

The freshly married lot on a bachelor’s night out:
Oho...these are the excited lots...They’ve just been given the adult lollipop to suck and they are bursting with enthusiasm to spill the beans about it...Like how well did they suck and what tricks get you to enjoy it to the peaks of satisfaction...Some discuss the experience of the newly achieved husband-hood....others lament it and form a ‘patni-pedhet’ society...yup even this soon.

Suddenly many of these young men who were erstwhile knowledge seekers turn into experienced prophets and eager to distribute their ‘gyan’ to enlighten the world...And at the drop of the hat they would turn into disciples again to learn how to make your wife try out kinky stuff that she scowls at so far...
Some would pull legs about other macho men turning into hen pecked husbands, never mind if they themselves shudder when the mobile rings and they read “jaanu” is calling to find out what time they would reach home...

Some would empathise with those of their species who are still actual bachelors and others would lure them to have that ‘shaadi ka ladoo’ sadistically thinking that if I suffer why shouldn’t thou?
Whereas the so called intelligentsia clan continue with their business banter even now...Will someone please tell these nerds that it is important to leave the office where it belongs to...in the office! Yawn, yawn...still on, on!

The night out of those who have traversed the seven years’ itch and lived to tell:
Hmm...this lot still discusses women...but not as objects of desire...but as objects that gulp down greedily all your freedoms to subject you to eternal slavery...The emotional blackmail and how to counter it...when u should give in and when you should stand up for your rights? How the beauty at the time of marriage has strangely turned into a beast! Wives seem good, as long as they are not your own!

They have just one work...to go down the memory lane to remember the days that have gone... ‘Jab hum bhi kabhi sher the’ types!
They sit before LCD screens in boring clubs watching matches, drinking scotch, all curious when they hear of a place where they can find a ‘session’ of peace...
They talk of their children and ya sometimes even their children’s friends’ mothers!
They discuss how drastic the teenage gals have gone in their dressing sense and manage to ogle when they feel they are not being noticed...
Whichever husband would not be there...his wife would invariably enter the Chinese whispers game that they still play...as they used to when they were little kids...But of course the gossip doing the rounds now are how temptingly low was Mrs. Xyz’s blouse and do u think Mrs. Abc is happy with her husband? And when that’s done...let them have a round of cheap jokes on which they can laugh their bellies off...!

They turn into worse than gossipy women when they get away from their wives even for a short while!
Some expend their energies on useless and too-late-cultivated hobbies like playing poker, pool, billiards, some sport or simply getting together to exchange the new porn clips via the blue tooth on the mobile for those moments of solitude in the loo...
Anything to escape the banter at home....!
Grow up guys...at least bear in mind the indications of what those strands of white hair...on your own dim heads are pointing to- behave like grown-ups at least now! By the way, the intelligentsia now gets mingled into the common crowd...for all differences begin to fade.

The oldies gang of boys...oops men...oops...uncles:
Whenever I see a band of oldies together at a club, restaurant or bar...I think...never mind what I think...
Means even till now these guys are on the look out...on the hunt?
Don’t you people ever give up?
The paunches are bigger than water balloons filled to the hilt...
The bold and the beautiful have turned to the bald and the dutiful...
The spectacles on the eyes and the swagger in the unbalanced walk...nothing daunts their indomitable spirit to do the ‘guy’s thing’...
It is amazing...
What would they talk? Honestly...I have no clue!
I mean at that age...can they talk really...?
This group I have nothing much to comment on purely out of lack of interest and a simple perception...men would remain men...even after years of grooming and development...they’d be, talk, get excited about the very issues as they did before...!

So next time women, when you feel the need to stop your man from that all-craved night out just with the guys...yaar let them be!
Let them vent out their hopes, aspirations, dreams and disappointments to their buddies...people sailing in the same boat...
Let them perk up and return so that they think they have done something worthwhile and ready to oblige you for allowing them to do so...
Tch, tch...and they say ‘it’s a man’s world’ and we surely agree;)

The Beautiful Gawky Age of being a Teenager...

I often give my students the essay to write ‘Childhood is the best period of a person’s life’, transcending each time into reminisces of my own. As memories juggle and tumble, I realize I don’t bear in mind much of my infant years and the moments that do stand earmarked are those from my teen times. What a beautiful age to be in! And kind of unfair that God ji gave us just seven years of it ranging from 13 to 19...maybe so that one never really reaches the seven years’ itch with it...and teenage remains the utopia we all just fondly hark back to forever!

Though at that time, being gawky, unsure and trapped in that sort of midway path, I am sure I wanted to be an adult, just as quickly as when I watched the shooting star whiz past, leaving us kids hopeful of materialization of the wishes we made upon it. But looking back after it is gone, as happens in every other case of our lives, it becomes a different story!

Teenage most definitely is the best spell time of a person’s life, the time frame that he really misses and cherishes. With the gen next being upwardly modern, stylised and more comfortable in their skin, it is great fun to watch the youngsters. Whether you travel by the metro subway, visit a coffee bar, go to a pick up joint...they are there everywhere...indulging and living it up...a silent reminder that you are not a part of this ball game and no matter how young at heart you may feel, you are not really ‘that’ young anymore to join their brigade or behave like them.

However, please don’t take away my fun that I derive from watching them. There are these girls, getting prettier and cheekier with the passing generations, dressed in hipsters and tops that barely reach the midriff...uhem...And when they sit on backless benches or bend to pick up the fallen pen...whoa...it is party time for the boys behind them...literally and otherwise. You find them mostly in size zero or pleasantly plump...there’s no other way to be, with wooden bangles covering half their hand or evil eye bracelets...loads of studded pins in their hair or letting them loose in a nice wanton wildness. They might sport an occasional tattoo and some adorn the eyes with loads of mascara. The traditional ones would be dressed in a short Fab India kutra and Patiala salwaar, have mojaris, some light silver jewellery, a big dial watch and an ethnic folder generally in the hand, as their butterfly clip randomly buns up the hair just above the nape....!

Whereas the guys...hmm...very easy to spot a ‘with-it’ teenage boy...jeans so below the hip that you live in a perpetual fear of now it would definitely fall leading to a bear all...excessively gelled and spiked hair, the latest and the most handful of mobile phones being flaunted...of course constantly texting on it too...The devilish Casanova smile and smooth manners, some buttons undone of the shirt....and reeking of a cartload of attitude!

I watch as my students indulge in teasing each other and even the silent gestures made with the eyes. I notice how blatantly this contingent holds hands or rests the head on their beloved’s shoulders in movie halls and their proximity might just cause you to turn your head, but not them to avoid your glare. I smile when I perceive how they just roam around in their bikes and cars on the same road all evening going up and down the path...maybe in a sort of display of themselves or to be the only early bird to catch the first worm that comes along. I try to make sense of the games they play of posing as hard-to-get, when secretly wishing for the proposal to come along on the knees. I hear the giggles and mindless laughter and how they do not hesitate even for a second before declaring that they are in a committed relationship. I get carried away in their narration of their dreams and anticipation and anxieties of the mysterious future yet to come. I smell the freshness and allure. I taste the freedom and splurge on emotions! And all my senses get attuned to what completely fascinates me.

Aw...take me back to these years yaar...trade all my accumulated and self-professed wisdom and years of wealth and health of course too...but give me back those years when we just cared a damn...!

I remember how the most favourite line of a group of my friends used to be, whenever we were stuck up with a prick... “Sit on the middle finger and spin for all I care” which had almost become our anthem. Indulging in crank calls, attending bashes where the hotties of town collected (including dandias too...eeeeeeeeww...to think of it now), talking for hours on the phone, the greatest discoveries were not truths of life...but the snooping and stumbling upon who is sleeping with whom! How we loved to gossip... character assassination of those where we didn’t dare to reach while within simmering along also, was a silent adulation for them in the hearts! How lying to mom came so naturally (...some things have to be sacred for a teenager), how dreams of careers and the expectancy of the “tall, dark and handsome knight with the shining armour” ruled most of our nights! I miss those years so terribly that I am conscious of a stinging pain somewhere at the loss of it right now!

But then time has to move on and it has moved.
Somewhere in my heart I am still standing at that milestone I crossed almost a decade ago. Somewhere in my heart I know I love too much and equally what I have with me now to really think of giving it up and rotating backwards the hands of time.
But then wistfully let me sojourn back to those years every now and then, when I sit at my window, bogged down by the shovelful of responsibilities ushered upon me...and smile even in my solitude!
Those really were the days!

Sexual Intimacy Vs. Physical Connect

The greatest mystery and wonder of the Almighty’s creations are not the cycles of seasons, the planetary organization or the geographical balance around us. It is undoubtedly the evolution of human relations and the affairs of the heart. The more you try to understand this, the deeper you feel you are being pulled into a bottomless pit! How similar yet varied are the instances from one individual to another! How simple love looks and how complicated it makes its existence! So when you see couples who have made it for countless years and still appear to have a spark in their eyes...it’s the greatest of enticement to resist asking them, what made them tick?

This comes in line also after it was revealed by a dear friend of mine, that in their many years of a relationship as in a marriage, it had been three years since they had actually “made love”. Yet they go on holidays, indulge in squabbles, raise children and get sucked in the humdrums of everyday routines of a life ‘together’! Another confided that the only times there had been physically coupled were when they had been trying to have their two babies...
Needless to say it quite shocked me out of my system and beliefs!
It made me question my own surmise for the same. Till now I conceded that men are sexually driven and more into physicalities than any other connect. The affairs of the heart for them were really the games of the body.
But this, here, seems to be a brand new ball game, a revelation much like ‘eureka’!

With no sexual intimacy what really keeps them together? Much to my embarrassment I would like to confess at this juncture that no matter how much I mock at my beloved’s desires to constantly be in the sack...I also know that make it a couple of days too many for me without my TLC –tender loving care and you’d find me to be glum, sulky and intolerable and ofcourse with an outpouring of pimples on my face. I think if I did not get my daily dose of hugs, pecks on the cheek, feel of the skin and occasional meeting of desires...I just might wither and succumb!

So when couples go on without this intimacy, yet smiling in each other’s triumphs or gloomy in their partner’s strives...Are they better or lesser connected than those who hit it most nights?
Agreed just physical intimacy does not last forever...but then can just an emotional connect minus even the touch equally pass the test? How long can the man and woman face the trials and temptations coming their way, without a physical bonding with the person they live with, round the clock?
And do the urges of the body die, become consoled elsewhere or are suppressed so deep that they lurk within but do not have the gumption to show that they exist?

It seems one can go on like that and that too for many, many years. It is perceived sadly though, that several lifetimes around us pass like this...when the smiles on the facade hide the truth beyond the surface. In such situations just men made of steel and women worth their mettle can either persist without a complain or resist straying from the socially correct paths meted out for our traverse. With infidelity on the rise, then why does it come to us as a surprise?

Gruelling schedules and outdoor agendas keep many couples from being together or at least not perpetually...As such even when they are, they are gladder to witness a smile on the countenance of their spouse, than hear him or her scream “harder, harder” in the bed!
So when we most need the other to vent out our pent up desires...the other just might not reckon or still feel that the smile she gave everyday would suffice even for the moment. But that moment of solitude and loneliness that could have been crushed by some real connectivity, leaves a burnt hole in the heart...that time works on, to enlarge and worsen.

Display of affection publically is perhaps as crucial as done privately. We were meant to love our beloveds not just for their heart and soul, but also for their bodies. While we appreciate the financial or emotional support, we ought to also acknowledge their physical desires and constantly make efforts to reach out. No matter how hard the doors are shut, constant knocking at the threshold would someday compel the other to throw down the defences. The key is not to stop trying. Maybe we ought to be a bit more experimental with ourselves...hey, with our own partners;) So let your hair down and get ready to surprise and also be taken off your guard. If we consider the relation worthwhile to continue living along with, it should also be valuable enough to transcend all mental blocks to stumble upon its true essence. May each one of us find our ways to the heart, body, mind and soul!

The Guilt Excess Baggage...

Guilt has a very big fat role to play in our lives, especially in the life of the so-called inferior sex variant...Most of us spend our existence here carrying a cartload of guilt on our fragile shoulders, which bows down our heads perpetually or every once in a while, that unfortunately comes once too often... not allowing us to sense the feeling of being heads up and looking at the sky...unabashed and proud!

Again I am pushing ahead one of my favourite assertions... We’ve just got one life to live...Why not live it to the fullest?
Let’s rid ourselves of the guilt rigmarole that we succumb to without even realizing it...Let’s either make up for them to resolve the issues or just plain simple shake it off and STOP feeling guilty for it is not worth it...!
So here I enumerate certain facets of life which we must phuleaseeeeeeeeee not feel cringe about...

Having a career...
(Understand that guys, most kicks here are at par if not far superior, to the orgasmic sensations you men may encounter otherwise in other rocking sessions!)

Not knowing how to cook...
(Why are women supposed to have an inbuilt invisible apparatus inside their systems that should guide them to adorn the chef’s hat to perfection, at the batting of an eyelid? Hmm... Why in god’s name are restaurants created then, if we cannot enjoy what they serve us on their platter...?)

About picking up that very expensive dress which makes us look like a million bucks...
(Never mind the price...if that little black thing, is screaming loud at you, that it was made for your curves, would drape you to perfection, covering your flaws and highlighting your assets and promising you heads that would turn and tongues that would loll and eyes that would pop...go, go, go...)

About flirting at the slightest of excuse or the minimilist of opportunities...
(Monogamy is definitely a thumb up sweeties, but a bit of fun wins hands down too...)

For having the whole humungous chocolate brownie or that sinful grand bar of chocolates...
(Dark brown, melting and superlicious, finger licking good...chocolates are the beliefs to have and excesses to give into...mmmm....slurpyyyyyyyyyyy)

For being super kicked about your birthdays...
(Hey you were born on this day and the world was blessed...Please don’t feel guilty about wanting the world to stop all that they are onto to commemorate the day to the hilt...)

For wanting the group to get more pictures clicked so that you get a chance to be in all of them...
(Vanity has to be our greatest trait)

For being downright lazy on some days and not bothering even to comb those hair...
(Screw the diva once in a while...)

For not wishing to be a part of boring family get-togethers...
(Yawn, yawn...at blabber, blabber n the chatter chatter)

For ignoring the boyfriend/ husband/ beloved once in a while for an all chick hang out...
(How else would we compare notes to get re-energised, revitalised, and bigger and better?)

For getting your hair cut really really short...
(What’s with this fixation of men, with long hair, anyways? Would someone please let us show the gorgeous nape of our necks? You men love it more than we do anyways!)

For wanting to go on holidays perpetually...
(Don’t you guys get more sex there...so quit complaining and oblige, instead of making us feel rotten about it)

For living in your own world of fantasies and imaginations...
(Reality anyways ruins everything, every time and then it is a wise saying...you can never achieve unless you dream!)

For not wanting to host a get together but rather go out instead...
(Aw...how can our men expect us to go through such a grind...why do they earn in god’s name...?)

For always fishing for compliments and believing that you should be treated like the queen and nothing short of that...
(Now for all the downslides of being the feminine gender, after centuries of supression and subjection...how unfair is it to demand some privileges and pampering once in a while?)

For being on the computer or laptop most of your waking or free hours...
(And then they brand us as dumb and naive...let us get connected to the world to prove that we are not!)

For having footwear to last you the whole week if you changed them four times a day, and still feeling there’s no perfect pair with the dress you have on or there’s nothing to wear...
(Style comes at a price...and when you men like to flaunt us in your arm, please remember not to make us feel guilty about the processes that went through for the finals)

For thinking about yourself before anything or anyone else...
(Because if everyone is thinking of themselves...then who else would think of you?)

For wishing and demanding to get some quality time with your own self...
(I, ME, MYSELF should also be the three basic necessities of life sometimes)

For days when you are just not in the mood for ‘IT’...
(This one is the worst ones to feel guilty about...machines, animals, females are designed differently and should be treated in a varied manner and 'positions'... not experimented with at how many times and for how long they can take 'it'!)

For not being there to entertain everyone who walks in after ringing the door bell....
(Once you make a habit of this...you would soon notice that your door bell is perpetually resonating or you are oftener seen around the door than in your own bedroom...so quit the risk and urge!)

For being diplomatic and manipulative once in a blue moon...
(Coz seedhe ungali se ghee nahi nikal raha hain...and it never really does)

For refusing to believe that you are wrong and the rest of the world is right...
(Some wise guy said ‘what is life without beliefs’...so we must have them too about what we think and stick by them)

Whew...I guess that’s just about it...
And before I feel guilty of misleading the female fraternity with this piece, I better sign off without much ado...!
Have a guiltless life!

Light Across a Tunnel...

All of us live in the age of escapism...
We walk, we stop... we talk, we stay mute... we interact, we restrain...
All of this because we want to stay in the state that gives us complacency or to avoid the state that may force us to rethink our premise...

Human beings are so structured perhaps that they constantly see the darkness around them...moving over and straining their eyes so persistently that they end up eluding the rays of light that filter through the blinds upon the windows of life...

You are perhaps so super conscious of having to grope that you tend to lose the recognition of realizing what exactly are you groping for. You may have touched upon the object of your pursuit but you are so single-mindedly focussed upon the task being not-so-easy that you leave it aside and move on in your mad race...It may sound weird but some of you actually like being in this state of self pity because it is the only one you feel there is...The world has been super unfair...so many tasks to do and so few people to do them for you...So what best to do is...stay grim and negative and always on the look-out for more troubles.

Whether you admit it or not, like it or fight it, you have convinced yourself of being strangulated in a dark tunnel...which is lighted intermittently by the dancing glares of the passing train...
The tunnel then as such, would jolt itself into action and vibrate into an animation of life, movement, flow, vibrancy as the train passes through...
And within seconds later, the tunnel as such, would also push itself deeper into anonymity, murky shadows, maddening silence, frustrating solitude, inching towards damnation...
Forever waiting for the light to ruffle the surface again...

Why can’t we learn to count our blessings?
Why can’t we move with the belief that things could have been worse?
Why can’t we imagine...what if I was the tunnel from which even these intermittent lights had turned their backs forever...that is to say the passage from where no trains ever pass through?

You have to stop cribbing and complaining...
There are often people around you who actually run after troubles to embrace them...
They feel if a day has passed off without worries...oh my god! Greater worries await in the pipeline...
They always find some person to feel sulky about or some situation to brood for...often because they have a sensitive mind attuned to others grievances...
But where does that leave us for our lives to be led as they should...
Who gains the grey hair, the restless mind and the fluttering heartbeats...?

We have to start realizing there is one life to live and we can and must not feel responsible and bowed down by things happening around us, within or outside the bounds of our control...
We have to take a deep breath every now and then to stop our heartbeats from jumping across the terrace to the high skies...
We have to learn to be happy with what we have and hopeful for what we don’t and never remorseful for what is lost and gone...

Life my friend is taking you on a journey over the cascading waves...
There would be highs as well as lows...sometimes the dips causing you to suffocate and the uplifts causing you to exhilarate...
But let the ride be smooth and unruffled...
The transitions natural and embraced...
Let us find our own lanterns to put all over the dark interiors of our tunnels...
So that train or no train....
Outside benevolence or forced disdain...
We continue to shine on with the light we have within...
Amen!

25 Men and 1 Woman!

Hey, as I typed this title for this particular piece...I couldn’t help but show all my already famous teeth in a big grin, thinking about what expectations would my readers light upon with this one...hmmm....Some would think this borders on porn and be titillated...Some would skip through thinking that this must be another sad news of a victim of man’s lust...

Nope, my friend, none of that!
This was the state of affairs in a movie theatre last night when my beloved and I went for an action flick...Fast and Furious...
And that’s just not all, while the cars on screen glided and somersaulted...whizzed past and vroomed... I was more at the edge of my seat than anyone else...
Oh boy, how I was tempted to rise up and applaud when Vin Diesel made that perfect narrow escape...but thankfully restrain and better sense prevailed.
Though I don’t enjoy 'all' the action pot boilers, but if it is fantastically shot and pacey...it has me all the way.
And when we got up to leave, my beloved generously pointed out that there were just men all around in the vicinity, around 25-30 of them and just 1 me...hmm...Hey, not complaining sweetie...what can be a better sight than that?
However, it’s just that most women are always conspicuously absent at such occasions...There we also met some guys who are part of our couple friends’ circle, out on a bachelor spree, for their women refused to have a head ache seeing so much action...

What am I trying to reach here to? You might be wondering...
Hmm...I have been tumbling upon in my mind about another facet concerning myself since...
Am I not a womanly woman?
Am I a man trapped in a woman?
Am I a man’s woman?
Or basically am I a weird woman?

Why so many bizarre assumptions are surfacing now? Let me explain.
Although most of us like to presuppose that we are different...I think I grew up with this notion, inseparable from my fabric...and almost arrogant to an extent about it... And now I live, breathe and thrive on it...thanks to many of my dear friends who push me into this hypothesis every now and then...
But just to remove the pompous effect from here...different is not always good!

I was not like the other girls when I was growing up...interested just in boys...Instead books, life, relations, communication fascinated me even then...
I sulked for hours because I used to get trapped in my own line of thoughts...
I almost lived in my own make belief world that would over power me from all corners...till reality again hit and brought me back...
Whoa...although I asserted in my defence I was more mature than gals my age...but I was simply put...almost uncanny.
I would metamorphose and change colours according to situations...
I was the teachers’ pet...studies pulled me magnetically to them...yet I could let my hair down and became completely mad when I was with friends...Together we have done the most peculiar of things that can be possible or imaginable for teenagers to achieve.

If we cut to now...I slip and slide into different roles with ease...although mood swings are big time downers still.
I am not the typical stereo type woman running the show at home with supposedly 10 hands working at the same time...
Yet in my own way, I am getting 10 tasks done at the same time if and which I want to do...
And just when I feel I cannot do anything more in the waking hours that I have provided to my body, I manage to clamp in some more work there!

I hate sitting with a bunch of women when we go for couple outings together and cry a silent scream if they start to talk of maids, kids, serials and mothers-in-law...OH MY GOD!
I flirt at the drop of the hat...I talk business and recession with men (don’t ask me much on it though...Did I tell you that the most memorable conversations for people with whom you interact are those where you just listen?...One secret out of the genie’s bottle)
I can get men to talk...actually TALK and make sense...and even in arguing I kinda own my skill...
Hmm...What else?...I can talk sex too and double meaning retorts are always on my platter...my very own speciality...;)
I like big phones...gadgets...men’s magazines...
And most importantly MEN...hahaha...
Ok, one question out of that list...
I am definitely NOT a man trapped in a woman....

But then I am quite proud of the fact when in a gathering of people...I am sweetly called by those of the superior sex to come to their corner, for they opine that ‘womanly’ talks are just not my cup of tea...
My best compliments are counted with those in which my beloved has been addressed unanimously as lucky to have an understanding partner like me...
When men ask me “Why does my woman behave like this?” and quickly add... “But you won’t know that, would you, because you don’t come in that category”
Hmm...you could choose to take it as an affront or an accolade...and I suggest you to stick to the latter for undoubtedly they mean it like that!
Oho...this sounds like a self promotional ad and I am not even contesting for any votes here...

Bottom line: Would I choose to be any different...nope! Never!
Would I trade even a part of my wit for more beauty...Not even on my death bed...!
Would I want to be remembered as one who always had the best make up on, the most stylish dresses or the most meticulous house running traits...
Or rather as a person who mingled with ease, putting others at ease to...letting them go off their guard, knew how to let her hair down and take it easy and be fun... Surely you know the answer to this by now...!

Really Rocking Religious!

I as an individual do not reek of religion.
In fact I don’t believe in it fanatically or with even over the top moderation. Call it liberal upbringing, spoiling through education or personal perceptions and disappointments thereby. But give me spirituality any day, instead of a dose of unreasonable joining of the bandwagon of religious fanatics!
Well, even the spirituality dose should be a light one yaar...!

Having said that though, let me also add here that I do believe with all my heart, body and soul in God.
He exists and works round the clock for us.
He is unlike us human beings...
He is selfless and giving and does not put conditional liabilities on us.
He does not say sit in the temple for unrestrained hours to attain my perennial bliss. He does not say carry out superstitions in my name.
He does not say if you do this incantation, wear this gem or consult my astrologers, I would ward of your evil.
I believe He says that if you do the duties assigned to you as a human being, as a family person, as an individual in the society... moving about in your path without coming in someone else’s way...then it is enough!
Yup, enough!

I have a strong connection with God or so I believe.
I feel often I am God’s own child because I have been blessed in many ways...touchwood! (Hmm....so much for my banter against superstitions...)
I feel whatever good or bad is happening with me is for a reason- perhaps a lesson meant to be taught or a drill in making me a stronger entity. It is a quintessential block or a piece of jig saw without which the greater and absolute picture would not be complete. I may not know the significance of the pain now, but would appreciate it over time for it took me a step forward in my upliftment and attaining or moving closer towards what I really wanted and was best for me.

I also try to counter-reason sometimes that I could be feeling thus because over the years I have grown accustomed to counting my blessings instead of tears and habitual of perceiving that things could have been worse.
I truly believe that whatever is happening around me is going by God’s plan, so what I can think of or desire for myself is good...but what He is planning for me is definitely better.

Hence I go about my chores of a life assigned to me, performing the duties prescribed in this life...deriving personal pleasures along with fulfilling social commitments...and I feel that my task is done. Phew! Could it be that simple? Maybe it can...we are grilled and programmed to do the complicated to feel that we have really done something...!
I bow my head when I cross a religious place be it a temple, mosque, gurudwara or a church. I respect people’s beliefs and condone all forms of prayers...but I refuse to leave behind my undertakings and obligations for visiting any and every religious congregation, in the belief that God is there and not here...

I remember hearing this somewhere as a ‘sher’, but found a plethora of moral wisdom imbibed in it. A drunkard having been found at the threshold of a temple premise with a bottle of his intoxication was immediately produced before a group of critical wise men...They began their cross examination of the wretched soul throwing at him volley after volley of condemnation of how could he sin like that? How did he have the audacity of drinking alcohol, standing in the abode of the Almighty?
The poor man, his senses numbed by the ale, could barely manage to theorize... “Show me a place where God does not exist and I shall go and drink there...” and the clergy had no reply to that, as he was hushed out of the town’s confines.

I feel sorry for those who rush to palm readers and astrologers and self confessed gurus and holy men to know what their future holds for them...Try how much I do, I cannot empathise with the need to add an extra alphabet in my name or wearing five stones on the fingers or getting myself brushed by the holy broom at the altar of the omnipotent...Would it change my fate or take away or add to the greater order of what is destined to happen anyways? Perhaps God in his magnanimity has blinded me with this vision...Perhaps you may want right now to mock at me, reminding me to wait and watch when the tides turn and I get a taste of desperation too...then perhaps you would watch me with smug satisfaction. I hope to remind you hear that I have had my fair share of trials and tribulations...I have gone through the gruelling tests of times, when I thought my feelings and emotions were literally choking me and I had to grope and beat myself to breathe...I had to question my very existence and consider the worthlessness of it all...!
We all go through these...!
That’s a part of living!
That’s life!
Well each one to his own, I guess!

The Navratris of Ma Durga have just come to its conclusion.
I keep the fasts of these seven days and have been doing it since childhood.
I believe in ‘mata rani’ because she for me symbolizes ‘ma’ or mother.
I have seen my mother and been blessed by her presence in my life for I truly believe that no one in the world can love me more than her...not with as much dedication, not with as much selflessness or with as much passion. She is my anchor, my reason for life and my shaping up in the way I have.
So when I see the image of the Goddess before me...I worship and adulate her for in the Goddess I see my mother. And if my mother as just a human being, can be as divine as she is adorable...I persist in my belief in Goddess Durga, for how vast would that ocean of love be...for She is the mother of the world!

In these Navratris whatever I ask of ‘Ma’ she showers with a smile.
At the inception of it all, I had begun this ritual of asking for things for myself and gradually realized the futility of sitting with a list before Her... She would give me anyways what’s best for me. I have stopped asking her for personal favours since then...Now all my prayers have been, “Always shower your blessings on me...forgive me for my mistakes...and fulfil my wishes which are best for me”.
I have tuned myself instead to ask for others and miraculously over the years, She has been benevolent in not disappointing me.
This year’s Navratris are dedicated to my friends...
Hereby I write this formal note to my divine ‘ma’ to help all my friends tide over the turbulent waves....
Let a dear friend of mine, who is looking for a job, find one that fulfils all goals, satisfaction and desires...and provide a lifetime of absolute success...!
Let another dear friend of mine who may be given the pink slip due to crushing effects of recession, have the strength and determination to get back life on track again...!
Let two very dear friends of mine who are looking for a soul mate and partner to spend life with, a shoulder to cry on....the strength to rely on...find that special someone coming his and her way....!
Let yet another dear friend who is struggling her way through a messy marriage find love and faith again...!
And finally for all my friends who have been with me through thick and thin...I truly pray for the very best for each of you. You have made my life rock. Thank you!
To this and more...I close my eyes and say a prayer silently and yes here even now verbally...with the staunchest of beliefs that someone out there is listening and with the batting of an eyelid would make these wishes come true...Amen!