Age and time

How many of us associate the word 'old' with themselves? I guess a very few. We want to be alive and young forever, and foolishly believe that death, accident, illness and age cannot touch us. It is funny how we celebrate each birthday with such pomp and hoopla, but refuse to grow up. Honestly, I am not sure how to approach the title that I want to discuss today. Few months back, I saw an image on my wall, which presented the ironies connected with growing older. The father who is usually busy earning a livelihood misses out on the joy of bringing up his kids, the couple who never had enough money to see the world, is unable to do so even at older age, now because they lack good health. I didn't rack my brain over it because it was just one of those boring items, definitely not for the fun and young me.

So I met this old friend after a long time. We are in the same city but stay at two different ends. So, after careful planning over which coffee shop, what time, WHERE, etc the meeting was a success. I know her since I changed schools in my 4th std and was made to sit behind her. We have moved cities, colleges, made new friends, 15 years and still in touch. We haven't had much stay overs and was completely unaware of the coolness factor of 'pyjama party' till the Americans showed us and that was much later. One of the rare occasion when I did stay over at her place was about 3 years back. It was just 1 night but I will always remember the day. The I will always remember bit has very little do with how we broke into her dad's bar and stole some 'things' (in coffee mugs-which we had to rinse squeaky clean later, to remove evidence of any foul play) and mostly related to her house. In fact, the mansion would be a better word.

The big HOUSE had I don't know how many bedrooms, but I noticed most were empty. They were a big family of 5, but all kids were working out of town, settling themselves, building a life. I remember stealing glances at that mansion of a house in our younger days. Luckily the very friend was there too and we would together wonder the magic and fun the place held behind its big bolted gates. When I did stay over that day, I understood the word irony. The house was majestic and meant for a big happy family. But only 3 souls occupied that place. It was so easy to turn philosophical, with the Ganges right at your feet (!!) and long walks in the mango grove. I wish life could be turned around and we could start at the very end.

Stuck

A few days back, 3 to be precise, was a not so very nice day for me. I had a dinner to attend with my family. As it was in the honour of my dad, it was expected of me to go. I unfortunately, couldn't convince my mother about an overtime option at work. I cursed myself later on way to the 'party' on being such a whopping success as a fool! 5 years of hostel plus an additional 2 years of on my own hadn't taught me anything. One one hand I had mastered the art of not making my bed for 2 weeks in a row and using the chairs in my room as part-time wardrobe, and on the other I still couldn't make up stories with conviction.

Anyway, I ended up going. I knew it was going to be boring bad, but I wasn't prepared for a kick on my back. I don't know which was worse--being stuck with kids of 13 who were discussing Barney Stinson or aunties who talked of 5 ways to prepare Morabba in accented Hindi! Now I am a big fan of pickles,etc, so I ignored the terribly put-on accent and focused on how are they made (seriously!) But then one of them suddenly commented on how Bangalore houses are way more expensive than Mumbai's. I realized I didn't trust her anymore-- even if it's just achaar making.

The entire atmosphere was disturbing. Everyone seemed to enjoy, including my family. I felt betrayed.
 I thought I will make the best of the evening and turned my attention towards Food, when one of the cheeky 13 year old made her grand entry and wished all the 15 aunties in row and didn't stop/break at me. I had to be content with salad and just 1 puri after that. I had already made a secret prayer to the god inside me -- God! one day this stupid girl will turn my age and then, we will see!
Malevolence does not come naturally to me, but I felt cornered.

The day wasn't over yet. There were two new entrants, the aspiring model (think Deepika Padukone at 5'5) sisters. One hot woman is usually enough to ruffle up a chubby girl next door's pretty feathers, and here I was dealing with two. One of them decided to open her prettily glossed lips and grace us with some pearls of wisdom. I heard her telling a big chic, allegedly her friend, not to worry about her weight issues,,"You see! its your body structure" (Besides the smirk, the horns were almost visible) I convinced my poor heart that they aren't pretty and its just the scrawniness.

My heart  had very little space left to take any more blows. As If on cue, dad came to the rescue! Party was over and I could go home and crawl up in  bed and my oversized shirt and feel safe in my own little world

Are you dumb?

So is the answer No! Definitely a NO! or is there a teeny weeny bit inside you trying to lift its head against the lie. A vehement denial shows the daal is not all yellow(!!). Why the sudden question -- because I feel extremely 'dumb' today. Not the 'I need sympathy, save me, damsel in distress' dumb but the real thing.

World says, jao, udo, spread your wings, make mistakes, lose, experience! Easier said than done Mind You.
It takes some amount of 'daring' to make that mistake, gain from it and move ahead. I remember the first major error I did at work. Now that I look back, it seems pretty tuccha to the potential errors that I may commit now. Back then, it was my end of the world. I also understood the sadists of the world live for such moments, feed on others 'dumb' moments. Doesn't matter if these sad sadist character cannot separate a comma from a semicolon..that is but so not the point.

I don't know what you all smart asses out there do?
But I keep feeling terrible for the rest of the day, turn moody the next day and god save you If you cross my path in the next few days to come. In addition to turning moody, I start reliving all my 'loser' moments..moments which is nicely tucked away in a corner of my heart but does make special appearances. They are sad, creepy, sneaky, spooky and very Dementorish,,suck all the happiness out in a matter of seconds. All achievements, happy moments, success stories are wiped out leaving you blank. A dark cloud takes over and you start re-living the not so nice flashes from the past, voices mocking you, fingers pointed at you, yes now you believe them,, you are the epitome of dumbness!

I wish I could leave with a message of hope and triumph! You forget I feel dumb

Feminist? Real or Fake?

The question of the day to the women out there -- Are you a feminist for the sake of being one? Is there something like a fake feminist? (I strongly believe all male chauvinists are genuine). Do we, the Indian women need saving? I sometimes feel, 'woman empowerment' occupies a prestigious 3rd position in the Oscar of Topics (right after Cricket and everything Bollywood).

I have never believed that I am feminist but I have been tagged as one, and so many times that its amusing. Every accusation brings a smile to my face. But it makes me angry also because I strongly feel I have a neutral outlook towards woman issues. How do I call a spade - a spade without being branded as part of the elite feminist club. I tried shutting up but then..I am an Indian, on top a woman,,that too a Bongali one!

Enough with my plight, and we return to my original question. Do feminists create fake nuisance? Are all their plights fake? Was the lady who reported the Delhi rape case a feminist too? Sound absurd! But If we delve a  little deeper into the problem, we realize that it is our failure as a society that the word exists in the first place.

I am not talking about the newly married brides who are burnt alive, the just born babies put to death, the 4-year old something touched inappropriately..no they are too cliched for us. They should be reserved to fill page 3-4 of our national dailies and provide us company while we gulp down the morning tea or sit through our daily ablutions. I am talking about the slighter notions we hold about a 'woman'.

Why isn't your wife the leading bread-winner for your family? Believe in her and she can be much more than a 2nd grade teacher.
Treat her parents as the real parents too, remember they are old too and need company.
For god's sake, learn to cook and change nappies. They are your kids too, not the neighbour's.
If she is driving, let her. Chances are she is a much safer and pleasant driver than you.
ASK her If she wants to relax after the child comes. Her career choices are to be made by her. You wouldn't like it If she makes work choices for you.

History says women were held in high esteem and occupied positions of pride in the society. We got lost somewhere on the way. Today we pray to 10 different goddesses but don't hesitate to objectify women at the drop of a hat. It is the same India where Kareena Kapoor refuses to change her surname after her nikaah and a rape victim lies on the street for hours for help.

So I do not really care If a 'feminist' concern is genuine, till we assure ourselves of change and promise a fearless tomorrow to future daughters, it doesn't matter.

A guide to handle your Bengali lady love

I admit the topic is not my own, I came across something similar and while I was reading it, realized this is short and there are ten thousand things that I could have added. The blog ended abruptly, leaving me hankering for more and I decided that more has to come form inside, so here goes..

So If its a Bengali lady who holds the rein to your heart, you need to know and understand the following:
(I will make it simple, the way I like it)

1. Don't assume she is a fan of just the effervescent Rabindrasangeet. The hip hop Bollywood numbers, the latest on VH1 etc maybe on her playlist as well.
2. Take her to a mall and not visit the bookstores? Not happening! She needs to browse through the bestsellers, the latest Indian writers and the Booker prize winners. Chances are high that she will have them on her fingertips.
3. The panipuri or chat guy who sits right around the corner form your place is an absolute go-to guy every week (If not everyday). The way to a happy bong woman is through her Fuchkas!
4. Learn a few harmless bengali 'gali'..Some like - gadha, goru, boka, chhagol, paagol are handy. So you know when and at what point you got her upset. She is sure to use them in abundance.
5. If she is your mrs too, then let her sport that long sindoor mark. It is a sign of love and affection, longer it is, more is her affection for you.
6. Talking of sindoor, she is bound to be in love with everything RED. Research has proven that bong women are absolutely mad about the colour. Some things are better untouched.
7. If its Pujo time, she will bring her entire wardrobe together with the aim of outdoing the best benarashi clad 'competition' she sees at the pandal.
8. There is a connect between the bongs and chini bhai's over our love for food. A part of every Bengali palate is dedicated to everything Chinese. Why should she be any different! Chinese dinner every week is a must.
9. Your neighbours will soon be dada's and boudi's and not necessarily mr and mrs. I believe its endearing and maybe you can join her.
10. The biggest I have reserved for the last. Humour her when it comes to her sweet-tooth. She is bound to have a big one!

Sour memories

Human Brain is an amazing thing. Take a moment from your hectic/ slow/ no work at all schedule and give it a thought. Say Thankyou and look amazed!

For instance, I have discovered in the past few days, one of my colleague has changed her ringtone. Now it so happens she has the same ringtone that I possessed at a time. Old Ringtones and alarms have this weirdness about them, a single hint of them anywhere, any point of time, they are certain to make you alert and pull you towards them.

Why I mention this particular ringtone? It invariably takes me to a time when life was very different from now. To a time, which will never come back again. The fact that time can't be brought back from the dead and gone, makes me sad and is yet a relief in a lot many ways. I wish I could share what am I referring to, but we live in a complicated world. People judge and don't understand. They pass comments and hide. They laugh together and cry alone.

So whenever her phone rings, the following happen in matter of seconds:

1. My heartbeat rises
2. I crane my neck to look at the exit, to make sure he hasn't come for me
3. I see a red scooter parked outside.
4. A small window
5. A Golden wind chime, by the window
6. Me in a worn old nightwear, crying my heart out.

The above are remains of what I have battled, achieved, lost and been awarded in my life of 2 years in Bangalore.
Sometimes I am glad I have a new chapter to contribute to and the old days are well behind me, or am I not?

The post without a title

The post without a title. Why am I being so erratic and writing without an agenda? Because today is a special day and I am lazy (I couldn't even gather motivation to push myself to the switchboard to put on the lights). I never thought a day would come when I will call 'not going to work - special'. I always assumed, birthday and weddings fell in to the coveted category. Turns out they are just run of the mill affair.

Now another big reason to sit and write 'today' is that I have un-interrupted time. This will sound strange but living with family after a long hiatus of on your own for good 7 years leaves you craving for some 'me' time.
Ideally, like many of my peers and friends, I would have adjusted that me time in my productive work hours, but I oh so don't have the cliched TIME. It is assumed that I don't work enough, because I just see my workload rising. Is it ironic that I dabble in the marketing profile,,so much for failing to market oneself miserably.

My eyes hurt, I do need to move now. There, a small thank you to Edison. So today I am free so I am going to talk random stuff. Like why are tweets called micro blogs  Aren't blogs supposed to be big pieces of writing? And why people never try omelette with curd, mind you tastes heavenly and no I am not from the South-India! What weighs me down is I have really important stuff to worry about but they are being subject to the same treatment that my beloved switchboard went through till 10 min back.

Why don't I share a little relationship advice today. I am no connoisseur, I just am sane and that should be enough I guess. So, here goes: What I don't understand is why people often say never get into a relationship, don't date, you are better off single. The fact you are discussing it shows it is important and if discussed often then you are pretty desperate to be in one. Pretending not to indulge in it makes you look stupid. You think love gurus and valentine's day is just for nothing??!! Why not take it as a challenge? It is one of the ultimate realities that you have to have a partner, then why not be more involved, listen to smart advice and turn a deaf ear to the ones harping against it. Let your affection flow!

Advice of the day will be never write stuff publicly when you don't feel like it.