Relations are really Reflections!

It is said by the great Deepak Chopra again that ‘All relations are mirrors of us’. When we like or dislike a person it is because deep down the other one is a reflection of who we are or could be, whether we realize it or it remains in our subconscious domain. It is not chance acquaintances that we are talking about here...it is our love-hate relationships that we choose to carry along with us as we move ahead on the journey of our lives.

It is easier to relate to someone affable...to proclaim yes, I like him because he is humble, noble, friendly and kind. It is almost an inference or implication that I ditto these qualities within me. But how could I relate to someone who is manipulative, selfish and greedy? I maintain a strictly hate-relationship with him because I detest these qualities...so how could I be that? You can be and you are! These are the qualities that may be invoked in you if perhaps you let off your guard or get trapped in a weaker moment. Traces of it you may already have discovered in the everyday working of your life...the slight hint of manipulation you did with your spouse to make him agree for a vacation or selfishness when you carried on with your professional calls when you were more required at home. The degrees may vary and you would have to be a brave man my friend if you declare at this juncture that you are a saint and far above these pitfalls whatever the case may be!

So how do we go about in our relations?
The good ones we cherish and make conscious endeavour to let it grow and blossom. For the others we must either ignore or tune down the hatred quotient. What fun and an easy life it would be if all of us came with tuner buttons or knobs inbuilt in our system. Imagine realizing that our tone has gone higher than was called for and all we need to do is turn the tuner button slightly left and voila, the job is done. Since unfortunately god in his greater designs decided against it, it’s once again left to our own onus to do so. Let’s make a start by looking at things from the other’s perspective- the 2nd person view.

Judge and react after placing yourself in his shoes and not just shoes my friend but his skin, his environment, his upbringing and values and thereby the structuring of his definite thoughts. The burden just might be easier. If his shoes are not such an amiable idea let’s take a 3rd person view-completely neutral... me as an outsider and in this situation, evaluating pros and cons of what’s at hand...what would be my surmise for the same? Perhaps then, the hatred we feel would not be so much as we began with!

Just remember that we are just looking into mirrors and what we see is what we are or could be...so let’s not be so harsh on the other one and take it up slowl

My Date with my Stalker....

Little moments of fun extracted from everyday life, are what I live for, don’t we all?
Some moments of laughter or amusement even if they are at our expense, as long as they spread smiles...
And when I look back into the recent times many such epiphanies stand out more menacingly than the rest, bringing a dubious grin on my face and so I thought I’d share here one...

Hmm...No news here that I loooove my evening walks...a sojourn into ultimate peace and oneness with myself and my surroundings...
However, of late I had a stalker...
I mean if he was worth any mettle he would have been glorified here for having the guts and good taste to do so...but since he was not...I thought let me slaughter him here with my words at least...

So this guy for two days kind of followed me in his white Santro car with an outstation number and outlandishly tinted glasses of the windows...He would stop the car on the left side of the road just a few steps ahead of me (I would have told you precisely how many yards or metres or whatever ahead...but I have more than once established my affinity with numbers...so I’d let it pass lest it baffles you more than I already do). Ok so where were we...right, he would halt his car and wait for me to cross over and then within minutes repeat the drill, much to my annoyance...Matlab ki I know I have a pretty face why waste time on the rear view phir...I knew it then and there that the guy was dumb...!

Still, I thought why to take pangas and let it pass...I crossed over to the right side of the street to avoid him but it did not deter the nut-head and after 5-6 times of doing this obnoxious act, I guess better things called on him and he decided to let go...Wonder if he read my earlier blog on ‘let go’ and hence got motivated...Anyways, the next day too he re-acted the audacity.

So I did what most sensible and coy housewives would do after returning home...told my dearly beloved. And he did what most senseless and lazy husbands would do...told me stop going for the walks...Thankfully he added there- ‘till I return from my tour’ or else he would have not been able to go to that one getting me all volcanic. I reflected upon his brilliant solution... should I wait for his return? I mean in all probability he would not be tearing his shirt, with a Sunny Deol yell of ‘kutte kamine’ and next tear the entrails of that poor soul...
Hmm...So I thought it was time for some girl power to surface...ok, ok...some woman power to be stirred into me!
Enough of ‘abla’ naari syndrome...it had to be the ‘able’ naari now...

So a feisty me on last Sunday evening decided to adorn the garbs of Jhansi ke raani...well, not literally of course...more like Kanpur ke raani...and started off with all my grit to teach the bugger a lesson. I decided to take my umbrella along just in case I might desire to get wild and violent...not like you think, so please rest your naughty minds.

So in one hand I had my iPod with earphones plugged in, in the second I had my mobile phone and please don’t ask me how I managed to hold on to the umbrella...some things are so complicated that they are better left unsaid...

And I walked...
And walked...
And walked...
Chidwaane waale log tayyar the but cheedne waale he nahi aaye....

Hmm...Very anti climax-tic I know...
But the guy just went whoosh...
And I with my army of weapons and freshly rehearsed and improvised stock of abuses had no choice but to return with a long face...Imagine how kings felt when they returned empty handed from the battle fields...bina maar dhad ke...!
I so wanted to show some beauty, brains and brawns to him...maybe even maaro that dialogue... “Aapke ghar mein ma behen nahi hain kya?”...just to see if it really works in real life...
But alas! Dil ke armaan aansoon mein beh gaye....!
Probably he realized that third time/day is not lucky or the cosmos conspired to let my malicious vibrations reach to him and made him quit Kanpur ke dharti...

Whatever...no stunts and actions transpired, so I all perspired and returned home completely fired....Bad rhymes, good sentiment expression! So the able naari was told to settle down and wait for another opportune moment...
Until she is back again...happy and safe stalking and being stalked to all of you!

Good Friendships!

In life we live in big bubbles of sorts...said a dear friend of mine when he was consoling me recently with life’s gyan. So it is, I reflected! When one of it bursts, we latch on to another...we are tuned to look for cosy zones to snug up to, in regardless of testing them first if they are for real or just with us in transition. So pop goes one bubble and we search or create other ones in belief that these might not burst.

Well, I am talking of a 360 degrees turn in my opinion...for having just a couple of days before written my guts out on bad friendships...it is amazing that I have discovered or realized all over again- great ones are around still, to more than make up. Someone once said I was a bundle of contradictions...seems like I am hell bent on proving it right.

If one trust gets broken somewhere...god opens other windows and doors for you to explore...This was not said by any wise friend...it has been repeated and used and misused so many times everywhere that the statement has lost its import...yet it has the whole grain of truth! Just as there are people out there to take advantage so are also human specimens that add colour and meaning...They provide friendships that you may see yourself getting old with...no detouring to love here, just a sauntering into the private zones of layers of you and help you unfold.

And great friendships are just that-a great exhilarating high!
They make you live life queen or king size because you know someone is there to cater to your whims and fancies. You know these friends would side by you whether you break down and cry or rot and wry. You keep the other fit by taking him or her on perpetual rides up the gum tree-the famous chane ka jhaadh, by constant realizing and appreciating what the other has to offer! They make you forget you had been glum or dumb...or even numb to such overtures...They bring peace to your mind that is otherwise so used to wandering, that this breather comes like a whiff of fresh air...that uplifts you in more than one ways!
See...healthy for the body and mind! Wonder why doctors don’t prescribe it to patients, especially depressed souls?

Hmm...How the body you may ask? Well, good friends make you laugh, not just your blues away but also lead to blood flow. “Hum khoon badhate hain” should be the slogan of friendship sites...and imagine the fitness level when all the facial expressions get involved in constant jabbering and smiling...the arms keep getting extended for hugs that we never get enough of...the rushing of blood... and the keeping us on our toes so that when there is the need for a friend to walk in, we may not be found lacking!

Good friendships are just that-too good!
May we all find our friendships to live with and die for!
Amen!

Bad Frienships!

Relationships are great boosters and bummers...
They help you bloom and can cause you to wither...
Whom we choose to walk by our side as we traverse life, actually determines our quantum of peace and content.

It is said we can’t choose our relations...we are born with them and cling along regardless of how well or otherwise we gel or how mutually beneficial is the association. But then we can choose our friends-people who stick with us through thick and thin or so we hope!
I beg to differ...we don’t choose nothing...!
It’s all a bloody crap...!
It is ‘they’ who choose us! Victims never walk up to the hunters to be slaughtered...we are caught at our unawares!

We may want to be with a chalked out set of people... give our all in such relationships and give, give, give...till the point we begin to feel drained and yet remain wanting for some spark of a return gesture. It’s not that we conspire friendships for give-and-take...it’s not the quantity or frequency of communication either that we look out for...it’s the quality of association being meaningful on both sides. We want, crave and pine to have friends like on the series ‘Friends’...but then it’s all just wishful thinking...!
If you are lucky, true friendship glows on you wetting you in pure ecstasy like manna from the sky... and if not, which is generally the case, you continue to degrade and rot under the false shade of solace...and by the time you realize it, the damage is already done!

Bad friendships are just that- BAD
For your body, mind and soul!
Like bad love jeopardises your chances of ever falling upon the right guy to fall in love with...bad friends block your chances of experimenting with the truth that might be there.
They leave you in perpetual doubts when u suspect intensions and jump to insane conclusions even in cases of prospects which could materialize in helping you find a soul mate.
They make your premises shaky...they cramp you with so much of themselves that perhaps you feel there’s not much in you that anyone out there would be interested in!

We all go through bad friendships whether we are strong enough to admit or not...Yes, it needs an admission for in worst cases these are the addictive ones, like drugs...giving you the short lived highs but drop you down with a ‘thud’ in the worst of dumps.

Get rid of them...uproot them...remove all traces and signs of their existence...block all doors that may tempt you to return for once you give in, it’s pretty much a give up. Realize your worth and to what lows there is a possibility of that ‘friend’ falling to or taking you to. It is said we invite troubles...yes, we do! We are humans...I may have a “use me” tag attached to me or bloody engraved on my forehead...Does that reduce your guilt of having used me? I may also have an expression that says ‘kill me’ because I don’t want to go on facing deception again and again...Have the balls my friend now to strangulate me...!
Ah...Don’t let the human laws deter you...when you disregard the laws of basic humanity and what bloody shit can the law making society do to you and the likes anyways!

Yup, bad friendships are bad...they go deep in you when you are least aware and just when you begin to realize it’s depth...it goes whoosh...leaving a vacuum there!
Let’s not create more black holes...let’s be more cautious of whom we let in despite the continuous knock at our doors!

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!