Yesterday, some old family friends were visiting my parents. I happened to call home- and spoke to Uncle-Aunty as well. They've known me since I was a little kid.
And when I grew up, they were among the foremost people to be worried that I wasn't getting married. On time.
They even fixed me up two or three times- with their friends sons' (of course, it never worked out).
Considering that they were so worried about my single state, I assumed that they would be happy that I was married now. I last met them during my wedding (obviously they had been there), and this was the first time I spoke to them after that.
So the first thing Uncle says to me " Kya beta, still alone?"
I was flabbergasted.
"No, Uncle, I'm married now"
I felt this would make him happy, as he was always bothered by my unmarried state (I wonder why, since my family saw his about once a year). Though I would have taken offence at this statement even when I was single. But I could not think of anything else to say.
"I mean, you don't have kids. So of course you are alone."
Well, wow!! So first he kept fixing me up with random people, to remedy what he thought was wrong with my life. Now, he's still finding things wrong with it!!
But what bothered me most was the subtext.
A woman is alone till she's married. And she's even lonelier till she has kids.
She's never enough for herself. Her life, work, career, friends obviously don't count towards makin her any less lonely.
Hell, even the fact that she's married doesn't make a difference!!!
What happens when the kids grow up and leave? They, after all, define her life.
And the poor woman is alone. Again.
I can't even begin to get angry at this- because this is wrong at so many levels, I wouldn't know where to start. Yet I'm angry. Yet it bothers me. Yet, I don't know what to do.
Will people ever think a woman is complete in herself?
That she is GOOD ENOUGH for herself?
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
GJam Story
I was feeling low, miserable and awful- which is quite a usual state for me. And whenever I do, I have this intense craving for something-anything- sweet. I just die for meetha...(which explains my size). Anyway, so on this day, my husband decided to make gulabjamuns for me.
Which was really sweet- not to mention ambitious of him.
He started with the Git GJam mix (you know, we, being the uber-cool gals that we were, called gulabjamuns GJams, golgappas Ggaps, Samosas Sams...etc. when in undergrad).
And before I knew it, he made a batter- yes, a BATTER- when it was supposed to be dough!!! We then started on the difficult business of converting batter to dough. Added tons of Maida, milk powder, sugar- and kept stirring. We still ended up with a sticky mix.
So finally, somewhere he decided that this was it. And went on to deep fry the lumps. Added them to the sugar syrup. And then hogged.
They were the best gjams of my life :)
Which was really sweet- not to mention ambitious of him.
He started with the Git GJam mix (you know, we, being the uber-cool gals that we were, called gulabjamuns GJams, golgappas Ggaps, Samosas Sams...etc. when in undergrad).
And before I knew it, he made a batter- yes, a BATTER- when it was supposed to be dough!!! We then started on the difficult business of converting batter to dough. Added tons of Maida, milk powder, sugar- and kept stirring. We still ended up with a sticky mix.
So finally, somewhere he decided that this was it. And went on to deep fry the lumps. Added them to the sugar syrup. And then hogged.
They were the best gjams of my life :)
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Borrowed Tag
A friend of mine tagged me on Facebook a few hours ago. And since I have nothing better to do with my life, I spent three hours doing the tag. Furthermore, I am reproducing it here- again, since I have nothing better to write about!
25 Random Facts About ... Me
1. My greatest desire in the whole world is to be thin- and it is also my greatest regret that till now, I have not been able to get there.
2. I cry in every single movie I see- even Shrek 3. Worst ever was Titanic, when I could not stop for 12 straight hours. And Veer-Zaara (don't ask).
3. I love FOOD- completely. Anything, anytime, any type. My wildest fantasies are ALL about food.
4. I am obsessive about dirty dishes and can't live with them. I have gotten up at 3:00 AM and cleaned the dishes (a number of times).
5. I love Shahrukh Khan. Completely.
6. I am an inveterate pill-popper and keep popping pills for the lamest excuses. Headache, stomache, lack of energy, any random pain, cold, laziness, grief, sulking, moody, unhappy, low... you name it, and I will promptly go and have a pill. And they DO make me feel better!
7. I love dancing. Its makes me feel really joyful. But only on Bollywood/ Bhangra.
8. The one thing I miss most about India is Chaat. And Golgappe. And Mithai. (its mostly all food).
9. I love BLING. The glitzier and shinier the better (that's the Punjabi in me).
10. I am the only one in my entire extended family to NOT have had an arranged marriage and the only one to have married outside my community.
11. I am a great Cook. I cook lovely tasty wonderful Indian food (mostly because I love food, and can't eat stuff I don't find delicious. So I make sure I cook it that way).
12. I have read more than 6,000 M&B's in my life (yes, now you know what a sucker I am for romance).
13. I can NOT eat sweet ice-cream. I have only had chocolate or coffee ice-cream for the last 18 years of my life. I hate ice-cream that is sweet!
14. I want to get my hair colored. Too scared about the consequences.
15. I am very scared of getting osteoarthritis/ porosis later in life and so I take calcium supplements daily.
16. I hate big cities and never want to live in one.
17. I want to see Europe- especially Rome and Venice- in my lifetime.
18. I am trying to start flossing daily but am too lazy. I only manage 2 times a week.
19. I have always wanted to get my nose pierced but am too scared and don't have the guts to go through with it. Also am not sure whether it will look good on me.
20. I love the smell of mingled cigarette smoke and sweet elaichi chai on a man's breath.
21. I have actually gone up to Nikhil Chinappa (MTV was visiting our college) and told him I loved him and that I had been in love with him for a number of years.
22. I really appreciate how all cars on the road stop when there is an ambulance/ fire engine/ emergency vehicle passing. This practice can mean a life saved- especially when I think about Indian traffic. So I am REALLY IMPRESSED with this.
23. I very often have nightmares in which my greatest fears materialize. I have often woken up crying or shaken/ scared.
24. I love dressing up in Indian clothes- and I think sarees/suits are way more graceful and beautiful than western wear.
25. I am one of the nicest people I know :)
25 Random Facts About ... Me
1. My greatest desire in the whole world is to be thin- and it is also my greatest regret that till now, I have not been able to get there.
2. I cry in every single movie I see- even Shrek 3. Worst ever was Titanic, when I could not stop for 12 straight hours. And Veer-Zaara (don't ask).
3. I love FOOD- completely. Anything, anytime, any type. My wildest fantasies are ALL about food.
4. I am obsessive about dirty dishes and can't live with them. I have gotten up at 3:00 AM and cleaned the dishes (a number of times).
5. I love Shahrukh Khan. Completely.
6. I am an inveterate pill-popper and keep popping pills for the lamest excuses. Headache, stomache, lack of energy, any random pain, cold, laziness, grief, sulking, moody, unhappy, low... you name it, and I will promptly go and have a pill. And they DO make me feel better!
7. I love dancing. Its makes me feel really joyful. But only on Bollywood/ Bhangra.
8. The one thing I miss most about India is Chaat. And Golgappe. And Mithai. (its mostly all food).
9. I love BLING. The glitzier and shinier the better (that's the Punjabi in me).
10. I am the only one in my entire extended family to NOT have had an arranged marriage and the only one to have married outside my community.
11. I am a great Cook. I cook lovely tasty wonderful Indian food (mostly because I love food, and can't eat stuff I don't find delicious. So I make sure I cook it that way).
12. I have read more than 6,000 M&B's in my life (yes, now you know what a sucker I am for romance).
13. I can NOT eat sweet ice-cream. I have only had chocolate or coffee ice-cream for the last 18 years of my life. I hate ice-cream that is sweet!
14. I want to get my hair colored. Too scared about the consequences.
15. I am very scared of getting osteoarthritis/ porosis later in life and so I take calcium supplements daily.
16. I hate big cities and never want to live in one.
17. I want to see Europe- especially Rome and Venice- in my lifetime.
18. I am trying to start flossing daily but am too lazy. I only manage 2 times a week.
19. I have always wanted to get my nose pierced but am too scared and don't have the guts to go through with it. Also am not sure whether it will look good on me.
20. I love the smell of mingled cigarette smoke and sweet elaichi chai on a man's breath.
21. I have actually gone up to Nikhil Chinappa (MTV was visiting our college) and told him I loved him and that I had been in love with him for a number of years.
22. I really appreciate how all cars on the road stop when there is an ambulance/ fire engine/ emergency vehicle passing. This practice can mean a life saved- especially when I think about Indian traffic. So I am REALLY IMPRESSED with this.
23. I very often have nightmares in which my greatest fears materialize. I have often woken up crying or shaken/ scared.
24. I love dressing up in Indian clothes- and I think sarees/suits are way more graceful and beautiful than western wear.
25. I am one of the nicest people I know :)
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Lighting up your life!!
Yes- that is what I can say about Shahrukh Khan and his movies- and my life :)
He is the light of my life ( my husband comes a close second ;)
His movies are just so utterly feel good and make me really really happy and smiley and gooey and mushy :)
As you must have guessed by now, I saw "Rab ne bana di Jodi" yesterday. And still haven't stopped smiling. As usual. Me being the starry-eyed romantic that I am, I loved the movie.
I loved its premise. As I said a long time ago, SRK movies/ dialogues become the latest truth in my life. And this time, as always, its about love and loving and giving and making the right choices... even through impossible epiphanies.
And of course, I cried. Tears poured silently down my face as the girl realizes the value of true, silent, eternal love.. as she makes a difficult, but the right choice (this sentence sounds so cheesy, but whatever. That is love for you ;).
As the girl realizes who her "Rab" (which is Punjabi for God) is. For that is what the movie is all about... seeing God in the one you love...
"Tujhme rab dikhta hai...yaara mai kya karoon" goes the refrain in the movie.
Another reason I loved the movie was because of Amritsar. My mother belongs to the city, so I have a lot of family there. And also because of the Golden Temple (the movie has a lot of scenes of the Golden temple, with major moments happening there). Where we would go every time we visited Amritsar, every year in the summer vacation. Where I learnt to make my childish requests to God. Where I sat eating the awesome 'kadha'. Where I prayed and hoped as I circled the Wishing Tree.
Where I last went a few days before I got married. To get Rab's blessings. To say thanks.
To say that I had found the one person in the world, in whom I could see God.
He is the light of my life ( my husband comes a close second ;)
His movies are just so utterly feel good and make me really really happy and smiley and gooey and mushy :)
As you must have guessed by now, I saw "Rab ne bana di Jodi" yesterday. And still haven't stopped smiling. As usual. Me being the starry-eyed romantic that I am, I loved the movie.
I loved its premise. As I said a long time ago, SRK movies/ dialogues become the latest truth in my life. And this time, as always, its about love and loving and giving and making the right choices... even through impossible epiphanies.
And of course, I cried. Tears poured silently down my face as the girl realizes the value of true, silent, eternal love.. as she makes a difficult, but the right choice (this sentence sounds so cheesy, but whatever. That is love for you ;).
As the girl realizes who her "Rab" (which is Punjabi for God) is. For that is what the movie is all about... seeing God in the one you love...
"Tujhme rab dikhta hai...yaara mai kya karoon" goes the refrain in the movie.
Another reason I loved the movie was because of Amritsar. My mother belongs to the city, so I have a lot of family there. And also because of the Golden Temple (the movie has a lot of scenes of the Golden temple, with major moments happening there). Where we would go every time we visited Amritsar, every year in the summer vacation. Where I learnt to make my childish requests to God. Where I sat eating the awesome 'kadha'. Where I prayed and hoped as I circled the Wishing Tree.
Where I last went a few days before I got married. To get Rab's blessings. To say thanks.
To say that I had found the one person in the world, in whom I could see God.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Pyaag
Kya pyaag hai, yeh pyaag hai,
thodi si pyaas, kuchh aag hai
in do abhaagon ka ik bhaag hai
pyaag to wo pyaas hai jo
peene se na ghate
pyaag to wo aag hai jo
pani se na hate
pyaag wo khalish hai jo
tere hone se na bhare
pyaag wo khwaish hai jo
tere milne se na mare
dhadhakte hue sholon ki aag hai
laga hai jo chunari par wo daag hai
kabhi saanch hai kabhi aanch hai
kabhi malhar to kabhi deepak raag hai
thodi si pyaas, kuchh aag hai
in do abhaagon ka ik bhaag hai
pyaag to wo pyaas hai jo
peene se na ghate
pyaag to wo aag hai jo
pani se na hate
pyaag wo khalish hai jo
tere hone se na bhare
pyaag wo khwaish hai jo
tere milne se na mare
dhadhakte hue sholon ki aag hai
laga hai jo chunari par wo daag hai
kabhi saanch hai kabhi aanch hai
kabhi malhar to kabhi deepak raag hai
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Cafe Culture
One of the things I love most in this country (yes, there are actually quite a lot of things I like in this country, esp. the bathrooms) is its Cafe culture.
The fact that one can go and sit in one of these places for hours on end. People go and sit there working, reading, doing stuff on their laptops (most provide free wi-fi), eating, drinking, talking, doing homework...whatever.
They are places to meet, places to live- simply places to BE...
I love that. One can just sit happily for hours, watching the world go by ( all for the cost of a small cup of tea). No irate waiter is there to tell you to leave and go once you have finished your drink/food.
Every time I feel lonely, I usually go to one of these places. They are warm, welcoming and they smell..ohh..so...good.
Of freshly roasted coffee... newly baked cakes... roasted cheese...warm just-out-of-the-oven bread..
I often sit there watching people out of the windows, curled up with a book, or just my thoughts.
They do provide human contact of a kind. Maybe, in this lonely country, that is why they are so popular. When everybody is running short of time, these are the places where one can sit and relax and take a break from life. Where one can just be... alone, but not lonely...
Where one can stop and smell the roses...err... coffee!!
The fact that one can go and sit in one of these places for hours on end. People go and sit there working, reading, doing stuff on their laptops (most provide free wi-fi), eating, drinking, talking, doing homework...whatever.
They are places to meet, places to live- simply places to BE...
I love that. One can just sit happily for hours, watching the world go by ( all for the cost of a small cup of tea). No irate waiter is there to tell you to leave and go once you have finished your drink/food.
Every time I feel lonely, I usually go to one of these places. They are warm, welcoming and they smell..ohh..so...good.
Of freshly roasted coffee... newly baked cakes... roasted cheese...warm just-out-of-the-oven bread..
I often sit there watching people out of the windows, curled up with a book, or just my thoughts.
They do provide human contact of a kind. Maybe, in this lonely country, that is why they are so popular. When everybody is running short of time, these are the places where one can sit and relax and take a break from life. Where one can just be... alone, but not lonely...
Where one can stop and smell the roses...err... coffee!!
Friday, November 07, 2008
Catalog Love
Yes, I am addicted- to catalogs. To all the different companies/stores that keep sending them in the mail.
Ikea, Crate & Barrel, Macy's, Bed & Bath, AAA Living, even the Henry Ford (which I got two days ago)- I devour each and every one of them. I read every single article/item/piece description, how it looks, the variety of colors it would be available in, the shapes, the different sizes, the mix-and-match stuff, etc. Of course, the most difficult part is matching the A,B,C's to the item description, but I do it.
I spend hours and hours poring over these catalogs, looking at every possible item- from complete prefabricated kitchens in IKEA to the smallest table runners in Crate & Barrel.
I know I am not buying anything right now- maybe not even in the near future (after all, I am an unemployed graduate) but still I do this. ALL THE TIME!!!
Maybe I should spend all that time looking for work- that would be the first step to be able to actually afford the hand-made pottery :)
Ikea, Crate & Barrel, Macy's, Bed & Bath, AAA Living, even the Henry Ford (which I got two days ago)- I devour each and every one of them. I read every single article/item/piece description, how it looks, the variety of colors it would be available in, the shapes, the different sizes, the mix-and-match stuff, etc. Of course, the most difficult part is matching the A,B,C's to the item description, but I do it.
I spend hours and hours poring over these catalogs, looking at every possible item- from complete prefabricated kitchens in IKEA to the smallest table runners in Crate & Barrel.
I know I am not buying anything right now- maybe not even in the near future (after all, I am an unemployed graduate) but still I do this. ALL THE TIME!!!
Maybe I should spend all that time looking for work- that would be the first step to be able to actually afford the hand-made pottery :)
Friday, October 31, 2008
Link!!
I usually NEVER link to other places in my blogs- yes, maybe an occasional song, but usually not what other people write. For me, this is more a place where I write about my frustrations, my life and rants, and NOT a place for people to find interesting links- If you want to see/read weird stuff on the internet, go ahead and find it yourself.
My blog is only about ME!!!
(Obviously you are here since you want to know about my life - for everything else, go and check out the Encyclopedia Galactica ;)
However, this time I am linking to an article, something I feel really strongly about.
Go and READ!
A Woman's Place
My blog is only about ME!!!
(Obviously you are here since you want to know about my life - for everything else, go and check out the Encyclopedia Galactica ;)
However, this time I am linking to an article, something I feel really strongly about.
Go and READ!
A Woman's Place
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Any Good News?
There is this intense pressure in Indian society to have a kid the moment one is married- not exactly, but you know what I mean.
One has barely breathed a sigh of relief- oh, I am finally getting married, now the whole world will be off my back- the innumerable buas, chachis, mausis, Mom- all of whom were hounding me to get married!
But they ALL started- a FEW DAYS BEFORE I GOT MARRIED- on the fact that I should have a kid really soon! Nowadays, every time I speak to anybody at all in India, I am asked-
"So, any good news?"
It is not considered possible that I might actually not want to have a child right now- I mean- How can any woman NOT want a child as soon as she can legally have one with complete societal acceptance? That is against the laws of being a good Bharatiya nari.
It is such an all-pervasive idea settled deep into our society- that a woman can not be happy/complete until
1. She is married.
2. She has male offspring IMMEDIATELY.
So I was having this IM conversation with my nephew and my bua (his grandmom)- who is about 18-19 years old (my nephew, not my bua) and here is what happened:
Bua: Beta, khush hai na? (Are you happy) {general routine question she always asks}
Me: Yes, I am happy and fine.
Nephew: No, of course you are not.
Me: What? {surprised} I am!
Nephew: No!
Me: Why? What do you mean? All is well with me.
Nephew: No, because you don't have a child.
Me: Speechless!!!
One has barely breathed a sigh of relief- oh, I am finally getting married, now the whole world will be off my back- the innumerable buas, chachis, mausis, Mom- all of whom were hounding me to get married!
But they ALL started- a FEW DAYS BEFORE I GOT MARRIED- on the fact that I should have a kid really soon! Nowadays, every time I speak to anybody at all in India, I am asked-
"So, any good news?"
It is not considered possible that I might actually not want to have a child right now- I mean- How can any woman NOT want a child as soon as she can legally have one with complete societal acceptance? That is against the laws of being a good Bharatiya nari.
It is such an all-pervasive idea settled deep into our society- that a woman can not be happy/complete until
1. She is married.
2. She has male offspring IMMEDIATELY.
So I was having this IM conversation with my nephew and my bua (his grandmom)- who is about 18-19 years old (my nephew, not my bua) and here is what happened:
Bua: Beta, khush hai na? (Are you happy) {general routine question she always asks}
Me: Yes, I am happy and fine.
Nephew: No, of course you are not.
Me: What? {surprised} I am!
Nephew: No!
Me: Why? What do you mean? All is well with me.
Nephew: No, because you don't have a child.
Me: Speechless!!!
Sunday, September 07, 2008
Dishwasher Lullaby
I realized recently that the sound I love most in the world is the sound of the running dishwasher. I love listening to it- the sloshing and ticking - every sound produces in me a deep visceral joy and contentment.
I love listening to it as it runs, revelling in the knowledge that all my dirty dishes are being cleaned. Often, I run it just before I go to sleep- as I love to fall asleep listening to its watery rhythms- it is definitely the most soothing lullaby in the world!
Yes- you must have guessed by now that I absolutely OD about the state of my dishes (clean or unclean). That is why I love sleeping to the sound of the dishwasher- for it gives me a feeling of gut satisfaction, of a day well spent, of knowing that I will wake up to a clean kitchen...
ohh heaven :)
I love listening to it as it runs, revelling in the knowledge that all my dirty dishes are being cleaned. Often, I run it just before I go to sleep- as I love to fall asleep listening to its watery rhythms- it is definitely the most soothing lullaby in the world!
Yes- you must have guessed by now that I absolutely OD about the state of my dishes (clean or unclean). That is why I love sleeping to the sound of the dishwasher- for it gives me a feeling of gut satisfaction, of a day well spent, of knowing that I will wake up to a clean kitchen...
ohh heaven :)
Friday, August 15, 2008
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Me no Gulti
Here's what I have been doing lately.
I've fallen in love with this song.
And have been listening to it non-stop for the last 5 days- on repeat mode on the computer.
I also play it again and again and again in the car. Totally NONSTOP.
(in fact, its even playing right now- I just play it 24/7)
Now that I have am using my husband's computer, I obviously had to explore everything it had (read: me being a nosey parker :)
And found this really great song.
The only problem is:
I DO NOT UNDERSTAND A WORD OF THE SONG!!
I just love the music.
Can somebody translate the whole thing: poetically, not by breaking up the sentences and telling me individual word meanings, but as a coherent beautiful poetic whole.
And now, just because of this song, I want to learn the language. The song is so poetic just to listen to, it would probably be great to actually understand it.
I wish this could be done like in Matrix: somebody plug my head in, and when its over I know the language. Completely- with all its subtleties and nuances.
I would not have to go through the pain of learning it.
Can somebody please teach me Telugu??
(I would ask my husband, but I don't want even more fights ;)
P.S.- Read the first comment under the video. Its hilarious!!!
I've fallen in love with this song.
And have been listening to it non-stop for the last 5 days- on repeat mode on the computer.
I also play it again and again and again in the car. Totally NONSTOP.
(in fact, its even playing right now- I just play it 24/7)
Now that I have am using my husband's computer, I obviously had to explore everything it had (read: me being a nosey parker :)
And found this really great song.
The only problem is:
I DO NOT UNDERSTAND A WORD OF THE SONG!!
I just love the music.
Can somebody translate the whole thing: poetically, not by breaking up the sentences and telling me individual word meanings, but as a coherent beautiful poetic whole.
And now, just because of this song, I want to learn the language. The song is so poetic just to listen to, it would probably be great to actually understand it.
I wish this could be done like in Matrix: somebody plug my head in, and when its over I know the language. Completely- with all its subtleties and nuances.
I would not have to go through the pain of learning it.
Can somebody please teach me Telugu??
(I would ask my husband, but I don't want even more fights ;)
P.S.- Read the first comment under the video. Its hilarious!!!
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Crash!!!
My computer died exactly one week ago!!
Siiiigh!
It was quite awful- a sudden flash of blue lighting, and then everything went black. Gone for ever, moved on into the realms of where computer souls go once they leave their earthly abode.
And the PANIC !!!
Because me being me, I am not very friendly with Mr. Back-Up. Ohh, we've met, and even exchanged a few words occasionally (we had been introduced by my computer).
But we were not exactly bosom buddies, more like nodding acquaintances.
Suddenly I needed to get to know him. Immediately and intimately. With the mutual acquaintance no more. He was extremely elusive- and I had no idea where he lived, or worked or anything.
I was in absolute panic- here was 3 years worth of data and stuff and stuff and data- GONE!!
Pffffftttttt! Chole Gachche (Like the headache and Amrutanjan).
Anyway, went to the Data Recovery center, paid a load of money and got everything back. THANK GOD!! Though I spent 4 days in recurring waves of panic.
So I need a new computer (no, it could not be salvaged and is completely totally dead).
What should I buy? I have no idea about specifications and other such stuff- the only spec that I really want is that it should be RED!
Suggestions and advice needed. NO MACS.
And something SST (sasta, sundar, tikaau).
Siiiigh!
It was quite awful- a sudden flash of blue lighting, and then everything went black. Gone for ever, moved on into the realms of where computer souls go once they leave their earthly abode.
And the PANIC !!!
Because me being me, I am not very friendly with Mr. Back-Up. Ohh, we've met, and even exchanged a few words occasionally (we had been introduced by my computer).
But we were not exactly bosom buddies, more like nodding acquaintances.
Suddenly I needed to get to know him. Immediately and intimately. With the mutual acquaintance no more. He was extremely elusive- and I had no idea where he lived, or worked or anything.
I was in absolute panic- here was 3 years worth of data and stuff and stuff and data- GONE!!
Pffffftttttt! Chole Gachche (Like the headache and Amrutanjan).
Anyway, went to the Data Recovery center, paid a load of money and got everything back. THANK GOD!! Though I spent 4 days in recurring waves of panic.
So I need a new computer (no, it could not be salvaged and is completely totally dead).
What should I buy? I have no idea about specifications and other such stuff- the only spec that I really want is that it should be RED!
Suggestions and advice needed. NO MACS.
And something SST (sasta, sundar, tikaau).
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Yaad
When I was in high school, my Mom introduced me to the wonderful world of ghazals.
And it opened a whole new area of expression of all my teenage angst.
Mom had a really really old diary (dating from her jawani) in which she had written a number of ghazals, and then she would sing them. She often used to sing them to me too, as we both sat in the balcony on hot and humid evenings, the usual electric power cut happening.
(She's got the most amazing voice ever).
As I sit here missing my husband,
these lines from that old diary wafted into my mind (after probably 15 years of hearing them)
"Lamhe lamhe mein basi hai teri yaadon ki mahak,
Aaj ki raat to khushbu ka safar lagti hai..."
And it opened a whole new area of expression of all my teenage angst.
Mom had a really really old diary (dating from her jawani) in which she had written a number of ghazals, and then she would sing them. She often used to sing them to me too, as we both sat in the balcony on hot and humid evenings, the usual electric power cut happening.
(She's got the most amazing voice ever).
As I sit here missing my husband,
these lines from that old diary wafted into my mind (after probably 15 years of hearing them)
"Lamhe lamhe mein basi hai teri yaadon ki mahak,
Aaj ki raat to khushbu ka safar lagti hai..."
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Cooking...Aur Mai?? Kabhi Nahi
And no amount to Pan Pasand is going to change that, unfortunately. Yes, its official-
Indian men are proud of the fact that they can not cook!!
Why one should be proud of lacking a serious life-survival skill is something I just can't understand. Though I should add a disclaimer here- a lot of the men I know cook, and cook really well. But among the ones who don't, what I hate is this tone of pride that they can't cook. So it goes-
Cooking... aur mai?? hehe... kabhi nahi...
(one can almost hear the undertones of- me male, me great, me never stoop to cooking, me has wife to serve me)
It started with me talking to a friend (in India) yesterday. His wife had ordered some Chinese takeout, as she did not cook that night. So I told him that he should have cooked if she did not want/feel like it. And his answer-
Mai to cook nahi karta kabhi (and what infuriated me was that rather than be ashamed of the fact, he was so happy about it).
Then he shot back- So does your pati cook?
Of course he does!! (and my pati cooks a mean chicken curry, but I had the feeling that this guy would die of shock if I told him that me (a woman) eats non-vegetarian food. (Gasp!! Thud!!!)
(No, this is not an assumption, earlier in the conversation he had asked me whether I eat non-veg, and when I said no, his exact words were "Chalo shukr hai, kam se kam non-veg to nahi khaati")
On second thoughts, maybe I should have told him and done his wife a huge favor.
Cooking, in India, is so considered a woman's job and domain that it does not even enter a lot of men's realm of thought that they can actually do it (do I hear another Gasp?
Great :)
I wonder why, because it is simply an essential skill to live- no good, bad or anything connotations attached. Maybe Indian men are so unsure of their masculinity that they are afraid of even venturing into the kitchen. But here, I am over analyzing- I am sure that cooking is so far from their view of the world that it does not even enter their thought processes, ever.
Here's to all the men in the world who cook. Pan Pasand for all of you!
Indian men are proud of the fact that they can not cook!!
Why one should be proud of lacking a serious life-survival skill is something I just can't understand. Though I should add a disclaimer here- a lot of the men I know cook, and cook really well. But among the ones who don't, what I hate is this tone of pride that they can't cook. So it goes-
Cooking... aur mai?? hehe... kabhi nahi...
(one can almost hear the undertones of- me male, me great, me never stoop to cooking, me has wife to serve me)
It started with me talking to a friend (in India) yesterday. His wife had ordered some Chinese takeout, as she did not cook that night. So I told him that he should have cooked if she did not want/feel like it. And his answer-
Mai to cook nahi karta kabhi (and what infuriated me was that rather than be ashamed of the fact, he was so happy about it).
Then he shot back- So does your pati cook?
Of course he does!! (and my pati cooks a mean chicken curry, but I had the feeling that this guy would die of shock if I told him that me (a woman) eats non-vegetarian food. (Gasp!! Thud!!!)
(No, this is not an assumption, earlier in the conversation he had asked me whether I eat non-veg, and when I said no, his exact words were "Chalo shukr hai, kam se kam non-veg to nahi khaati")
On second thoughts, maybe I should have told him and done his wife a huge favor.
Cooking, in India, is so considered a woman's job and domain that it does not even enter a lot of men's realm of thought that they can actually do it (do I hear another Gasp?
Great :)
I wonder why, because it is simply an essential skill to live- no good, bad or anything connotations attached. Maybe Indian men are so unsure of their masculinity that they are afraid of even venturing into the kitchen. But here, I am over analyzing- I am sure that cooking is so far from their view of the world that it does not even enter their thought processes, ever.
Here's to all the men in the world who cook. Pan Pasand for all of you!
Saturday, May 31, 2008
A Celebration of Love
So, I saw Sex and the City (the movie) yesterday (first day, third show :)
And absolutely luurrrrrrrrrvvvvvvved it.
It is just so beautiful, so sweet, so poignant, so "love"!!
That is the only way to describe the movie- its all about LOVE - all-encompassing, forgiving, generous, sorry, painful, difficult, beautiful, emotional, hopeful, endearing- its love, love, love :)
(Yes, that's the sappy grin on my face that still has not gone 24 hours after seeing the movie :)
Its about "happily ever after" and more importantly, about believing in happily ever after. Its about having dreams of love, and getting there, albeit with innumerable trials, tribulations and triumphs.
It brings a whole new meaning to "Love conquers all" :)
(yup, goofy grin again).
I know- I am a hopelessly sappy romantic mushy stars in the eyes happily ever after believer- so obviously I totally related to the movie (just as I have always been in love with the TV series).
Its definitely a must see for all diehard romantics- simply because you believe in love, and even more if you like "the girls".
(goofy grin with stars in my eyes- I have no idea how to emoticon that).
The girls have grown older, have mellowed, maybe wiser- yet they are all quintessentially the same, with the same quest for true love. And they find it- be it within themselves or outside.
It is this patchwork quilt of life, with its unbearable pain knitted in with its hilarious moments, its grief and anger, its learning to forgive, its pure joy, its guilt, and self-doubt and questions and finding answers and looking forward...
Looking forward, and looking beyond- beyond labels (on both clothes and people), beyond names, beyond self, beyond ego... and even beyond love...
So, taking a quote from the movie... "Get Carried Away"
:)
Monday, May 05, 2008
Clothes don't make a Woman
Or do they?
I've been branded a ganwar dehatan this weekend. Simply because I chose to wear a (Indian) suit.
And because I cooked (for the people who branded me a dehatan!!)
I sometimes wonder at this Indian prejudice (especially in the US)- the minute they meet another Indian in a non-western dress, she is pretty much an illiterate housewife.
So, I met some people for the first time, who came to a party of sorts at my place. I was wearing a suit (which, by the way, was a simple cotton, but very nice). As I opened the door for these (new) people, they took one look at me- and after that, all of them addressed me in shudh hindi.
They did not even ask me if I was studying here (everybody in the party was/is in various stages of their Ph.D., and so am I) but assumed that I was just an English-challenged housewife who's main goal in life is to cook and clean for all the other Ph.D.'s!!!
I was wondering quite a bit about this- just because I chose to cook for a bunch of people, I become a housewife (yes, with all derogatory connotations possible). Is cooking so uncool? Why do Indians look down upon it- why is it associated with "not being modern"?
So because I wear suits and cook, I am labeled, branded and slotted- all in the blinking of an eye. It does not matter that I probably do have better English than the rest of them put together. Or that I worked tirelessly so that I could make good food for all of them. And was so tired after it all that I could not go out drinking with them- I did not (because I was really tired after a day spent cooking and cleaning, for 7-9 people, but in their eyes, what in the world would a dowdy housewife do in a pub?)
Why? Why do Indians need to show off all the time? And then consider themselves superior to people who don't?
Why doesn't being a nice person count?
P.S.- I don't even wear a kilo of kaajal- which is the basic prerequisite for being a modern Indian woman in the US.
I've been branded a ganwar dehatan this weekend. Simply because I chose to wear a (Indian) suit.
And because I cooked (for the people who branded me a dehatan!!)
I sometimes wonder at this Indian prejudice (especially in the US)- the minute they meet another Indian in a non-western dress, she is pretty much an illiterate housewife.
So, I met some people for the first time, who came to a party of sorts at my place. I was wearing a suit (which, by the way, was a simple cotton, but very nice). As I opened the door for these (new) people, they took one look at me- and after that, all of them addressed me in shudh hindi.
They did not even ask me if I was studying here (everybody in the party was/is in various stages of their Ph.D., and so am I) but assumed that I was just an English-challenged housewife who's main goal in life is to cook and clean for all the other Ph.D.'s!!!
I was wondering quite a bit about this- just because I chose to cook for a bunch of people, I become a housewife (yes, with all derogatory connotations possible). Is cooking so uncool? Why do Indians look down upon it- why is it associated with "not being modern"?
So because I wear suits and cook, I am labeled, branded and slotted- all in the blinking of an eye. It does not matter that I probably do have better English than the rest of them put together. Or that I worked tirelessly so that I could make good food for all of them. And was so tired after it all that I could not go out drinking with them- I did not (because I was really tired after a day spent cooking and cleaning, for 7-9 people, but in their eyes, what in the world would a dowdy housewife do in a pub?)
Why? Why do Indians need to show off all the time? And then consider themselves superior to people who don't?
Why doesn't being a nice person count?
P.S.- I don't even wear a kilo of kaajal- which is the basic prerequisite for being a modern Indian woman in the US.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Forever Love
Yesterday was my first wedding anniversary... hard to believe, but it has been one year :)
Here's my husband's anniversary card to me-
Just a reaffirmation of why I love this guy so much ;)
Here's my husband's anniversary card to me-
Just a reaffirmation of why I love this guy so much ;)
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Hum bhi Modern hain
I think I want to write, to write about the new
Let’s call it the viewpoint of an onlooker, observing changes in the Indian urban landscape. Interestingly, I have reviewed three different types of building typologies, emerging in the globalized modern
The first was the shopping mall- yes; I’ve reviewed them so thoroughly that I can recite facts about Indian shopping malls in my sleep. I’ve written papers (okay, just one) on them. And I see the grasp of consumerism slowly expand its tentacles to get a hold inside the minds of the population. How consumerism has become the mark of status and existence. How where you shop is more important than what you buy and how you use it. How being in the mall makes you modern. The mall stocks western goods and commodities, which are bought by the new breed of Indian ‘transnationals’. The class that is transnational because they have been to that mysterious place that makes one more than human: abroad. The glitz, glass and chrome all shimmer invitingly. Yet, am I being too cynical? Is the mall really a sign of modernity?
After all, hum bhi ‘modern’ hain!!
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Mud Pie Mojo Moods
Soft, sweet, melting and with the texture of silk..aahhh... ice-cream...
How I love it as it gradually melts on my tongue, soaking in the taste and texture,
chewing on the bits and pieces... sucking on as its tastes linger elusively on my palate...
Aaahh...Ice-cream...
And yet, not any ice-cream. I can only ever have chocolate ice-cream-
I have had ONLY the chocolate flavor for the last fifteen or so years (ever since I realized the pleasures of chocolate and the angst of teenage :)
However, this has rendered me completely incapable of eating any other flavor- I mean, anything else tastes sweet!!!!
For heaven's sake... sweet ice-cream..Ugghh. I just hate the taste of sweet ice-cream- unless it is tinged with the slight bitterness of chocolate, its not ice-cream.
The love affair started with Hot Chocolate Fudge (HCF) from Nirula's, Delhi. I just had to have it every time I visited Delhi. And continued, with HCF from Hot Millions, Chandigarh-here,
I usually had the standard Butterscotch replaced with Chocolate- and extra fudge.
It culminated with the Death by Chocolate- the ultimate chocolate fantasy, but available only at Corner House, Bangalore. Unfortunately, I've visited the city only once in my life.
(only five days of the world's best ice-cream, alas!)
Then I came to the US- and discovered the million or so flavors of chocolate ice-cream.
And also discovered Coldstone.
After a few experiments and trials- I have settled on Mud Pie Mojo.
Its just THE best (and this is coming from a connoisseur of chocolate ice-cream- its even better than the German ChocolateCake, and that is saying something).
It is not chocolate ice-cream, but coffee (obviously not sweet, thank god!).
With swirls of peanut butter and roasted almonds and Oreos and (lots of extra) fudge......
Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...
I think I am going into an orgiastic frenzy here.
(after all, they do say chocolate is a substitute for sex).
With my husband going out of town for a few months,
I think I'm going to have a lot of Mud Pie Mojo.
After all, that's the only Mojo of any kind I'll be getting ;)
How I love it as it gradually melts on my tongue, soaking in the taste and texture,
chewing on the bits and pieces... sucking on as its tastes linger elusively on my palate...
Aaahh...Ice-cream...
And yet, not any ice-cream. I can only ever have chocolate ice-cream-
I have had ONLY the chocolate flavor for the last fifteen or so years (ever since I realized the pleasures of chocolate and the angst of teenage :)
However, this has rendered me completely incapable of eating any other flavor- I mean, anything else tastes sweet!!!!
For heaven's sake... sweet ice-cream..Ugghh. I just hate the taste of sweet ice-cream- unless it is tinged with the slight bitterness of chocolate, its not ice-cream.
The love affair started with Hot Chocolate Fudge (HCF) from Nirula's, Delhi. I just had to have it every time I visited Delhi. And continued, with HCF from Hot Millions, Chandigarh-here,
I usually had the standard Butterscotch replaced with Chocolate- and extra fudge.
It culminated with the Death by Chocolate- the ultimate chocolate fantasy, but available only at Corner House, Bangalore. Unfortunately, I've visited the city only once in my life.
(only five days of the world's best ice-cream, alas!)
Then I came to the US- and discovered the million or so flavors of chocolate ice-cream.
And also discovered Coldstone.
After a few experiments and trials- I have settled on Mud Pie Mojo.
Its just THE best (and this is coming from a connoisseur of chocolate ice-cream- its even better than the German ChocolateCake, and that is saying something).
It is not chocolate ice-cream, but coffee (obviously not sweet, thank god!).
With swirls of peanut butter and roasted almonds and Oreos and (lots of extra) fudge......
Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...
I think I am going into an orgiastic frenzy here.
(after all, they do say chocolate is a substitute for sex).
With my husband going out of town for a few months,
I think I'm going to have a lot of Mud Pie Mojo.
After all, that's the only Mojo of any kind I'll be getting ;)
Friday, April 04, 2008
The Wizarding Point of View
When asked why she wanted to do Muggle Studies (as her parents were Muggles), Hermione had answered, "... but it would be fascinating to study them from the wizarding point of view."
That is exactly how I feel in my South Asia courses and classes. I have been taking a lot of South Asia (read India) related courses for the last year. Most of my classmates are either Americans (fascinated by India) or second generation Indians wanting to "study and learn" about India ( I am the only Indian- born and brought up in India in these classes). My reason, of course, was the same as Hermione's- to see India from the outside (so to speak).
There is tremendous amount of research/work done on India, right from the colonial times- both by Indians and non-Indians. And I have realized that the way of looking in from the outside is very different from being inside and experiencing it, growing up in it. I am NOT disassociated with these events. I am attached, and all this is part and parcel of my being Indian. Even of me being me. These are events that have shaped my thoughts, feelings and ideas.
It is often difficult for me to clinically analyze the issues being discussed, simply because I am not a bipartisan bystander. I am involved, things are not like this, you can't be so dispassionate- I feel like screaming.
But I am learning that there is a different point of view. For the people who have done such excellent research and work, have looked at both points of view. At the inside and outside.
Despite my attachment, my ideological motivations and even my inherent prejudices, I am glad that I got to study all this. That I can now see India from the outside.
That I have now seen the wizarding point of view!!
That is exactly how I feel in my South Asia courses and classes. I have been taking a lot of South Asia (read India) related courses for the last year. Most of my classmates are either Americans (fascinated by India) or second generation Indians wanting to "study and learn" about India ( I am the only Indian- born and brought up in India in these classes). My reason, of course, was the same as Hermione's- to see India from the outside (so to speak).
There is tremendous amount of research/work done on India, right from the colonial times- both by Indians and non-Indians. And I have realized that the way of looking in from the outside is very different from being inside and experiencing it, growing up in it. I am NOT disassociated with these events. I am attached, and all this is part and parcel of my being Indian. Even of me being me. These are events that have shaped my thoughts, feelings and ideas.
It is often difficult for me to clinically analyze the issues being discussed, simply because I am not a bipartisan bystander. I am involved, things are not like this, you can't be so dispassionate- I feel like screaming.
But I am learning that there is a different point of view. For the people who have done such excellent research and work, have looked at both points of view. At the inside and outside.
Despite my attachment, my ideological motivations and even my inherent prejudices, I am glad that I got to study all this. That I can now see India from the outside.
That I have now seen the wizarding point of view!!
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Happy Holi, All
Hap-Hap-Hap-ppppyyy Holi!
Holi has always been my favorite festival. It means joy, and laughter, and teasing, and flirtation and enthusiasm and excitement and trepidation and anticipation :)
Oh joyous Holi, with its colors and water - and even the eggs and grease and coke - all that we used to throw at everybody else- and get thrown back at us.
I loved the Holi food too- especially the Gunjias and Kaanji (the extremely khatta kali gajar ka ras- if you have not had kaanji, you've missed out on something in life, believe me!)
There are numerous Holi songs, yet the one that captures the spirit and verve- and the one I love most is-
Jo jee mein aaye,
tum aaj karlo,
chaaho jise,
in baahon me bhar lo
Ang se Ang lagaana,
Sajan hamein aise rang lagaana....
Gaalon se ye gaal lagake,
nainon se ye nain milaake,
holi aaj manaana
Sajan hamein aise rang lagaana
(It really captures the spirit of Holi ;)
Unfortunately, its too cold here (its still snowing outside) to play the Indian wet holi style!
But for all of you in good weather, have a colorful blast on Holi.
Holi has always been my favorite festival. It means joy, and laughter, and teasing, and flirtation and enthusiasm and excitement and trepidation and anticipation :)
Oh joyous Holi, with its colors and water - and even the eggs and grease and coke - all that we used to throw at everybody else- and get thrown back at us.
I loved the Holi food too- especially the Gunjias and Kaanji (the extremely khatta kali gajar ka ras- if you have not had kaanji, you've missed out on something in life, believe me!)
There are numerous Holi songs, yet the one that captures the spirit and verve- and the one I love most is-
Jo jee mein aaye,
tum aaj karlo,
chaaho jise,
in baahon me bhar lo
Ang se Ang lagaana,
Sajan hamein aise rang lagaana....
Gaalon se ye gaal lagake,
nainon se ye nain milaake,
holi aaj manaana
Sajan hamein aise rang lagaana
(It really captures the spirit of Holi ;)
Unfortunately, its too cold here (its still snowing outside) to play the Indian wet holi style!
But for all of you in good weather, have a colorful blast on Holi.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
When the going gets tough...
How many of you have played this game- of adding a totally inane phrase behind a sentence, quote or even every line one speaks?
In my ragging days (by now, I am sure quite a few of you are wondering about the kind of ragging we had) we often had to append some (usually off-color) phrase when introducing ourselves to our seniors.
A favorite that was given was "in my pink panties". Another- "in my purple pyjamas"
So it went-
My name is XYZ... in my pink panties.
I am from ABC... in my pink panties.
....
I love reading books... in my pink panties.
My favorite hero is Shahrukh Khan... in my pink panties....
(Try doing this in your head in everyday conversation. I am sure you will get some gems :)
However, the first time I came across this game was when I was in Class 6th or whereabouts, at a friend's birthday party. The 'phrase' to be appended was "Under the Carpet".
And everybody had to add it on to some famous quote.
The one that I remember clearly is -
When the going gets tough, the tough get going.... under the carpet.
You see??? So every time I hear this quote "When the going...." my almost Pavlovian response is to add 'under the carpet'.
But it bears repetition-
When the going gets tough, the tough get going.
Was introspecting quite a bit today, and I realized that I had to get both over and through some muddles created in/ by my own mind. The self-made morass I was wallowing in left me precisely there- it is nice fun to wallow in the mud, but I guess it is time to come out and have a wash... in my pink panties :)
Ruminating on this, I fell asleep. And woke up with this quote on my mind and lips...
When the going gets tough, the tough get going!
After all, Picture abhi baaki hai, mere dost!
In my ragging days (by now, I am sure quite a few of you are wondering about the kind of ragging we had) we often had to append some (usually off-color) phrase when introducing ourselves to our seniors.
A favorite that was given was "in my pink panties". Another- "in my purple pyjamas"
So it went-
My name is XYZ... in my pink panties.
I am from ABC... in my pink panties.
....
I love reading books... in my pink panties.
My favorite hero is Shahrukh Khan... in my pink panties....
(Try doing this in your head in everyday conversation. I am sure you will get some gems :)
However, the first time I came across this game was when I was in Class 6th or whereabouts, at a friend's birthday party. The 'phrase' to be appended was "Under the Carpet".
And everybody had to add it on to some famous quote.
The one that I remember clearly is -
When the going gets tough, the tough get going.... under the carpet.
You see??? So every time I hear this quote "When the going...." my almost Pavlovian response is to add 'under the carpet'.
But it bears repetition-
When the going gets tough, the tough get going.
Was introspecting quite a bit today, and I realized that I had to get both over and through some muddles created in/ by my own mind. The self-made morass I was wallowing in left me precisely there- it is nice fun to wallow in the mud, but I guess it is time to come out and have a wash... in my pink panties :)
Ruminating on this, I fell asleep. And woke up with this quote on my mind and lips...
When the going gets tough, the tough get going!
After all, Picture abhi baaki hai, mere dost!
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Shoe Bite
Contrary to all my New-Year resolutions (this HAD to happen), I am still blogging infrequently. I promised myself that I would blog more, but then it seems that I never have something to say... or too much, in which case mere words can not do justice to my emotions (Oh yes, that is just an excuse for my laziness).
However, this time I am going to talk about something that has been part of my life forever, and has taken up substantial time and energy (and conversation) of mine - my ShoeBites.
(mind you, with a capital B)
Every single shoe that I have ever worn has given me shoebites. Be it a lowly Bata chappal, or some exorbitantly strappy high-heeled stuff- everything results in 4-5 shoebites. So I have lived in perpetual pain in my feet almost all the time. I can still walk miles with my feet killing me, simply because I am so used to doing it.
I have developed a theory around my shoebites- I wear the new shoes for a couple of days- live with the pain- to break them in. Then a few days break- and voila! The next time I wear them, they are relatively painless.
My heels are perenially in various stages of blister formations- burst, about to burst, in conception... Not to mention my toes...and the rest of my feet.
There was a time I used to display the blisters of various colors and sizes to all my friends - since I was so proud of them. Nobody else had such a collection!
Am still suffering as I wore a nice new pair of formal shoes a couple of days back. Have this one horrendous burst blister- which means I can not wear shoes with a back for the time being.
And it reminded me of my long tryst with shoebites all my life.
Is it just me? Or my big, ugly feet?
I guess I am no Cinderella...
However, this time I am going to talk about something that has been part of my life forever, and has taken up substantial time and energy (and conversation) of mine - my ShoeBites.
(mind you, with a capital B)
Every single shoe that I have ever worn has given me shoebites. Be it a lowly Bata chappal, or some exorbitantly strappy high-heeled stuff- everything results in 4-5 shoebites. So I have lived in perpetual pain in my feet almost all the time. I can still walk miles with my feet killing me, simply because I am so used to doing it.
I have developed a theory around my shoebites- I wear the new shoes for a couple of days- live with the pain- to break them in. Then a few days break- and voila! The next time I wear them, they are relatively painless.
My heels are perenially in various stages of blister formations- burst, about to burst, in conception... Not to mention my toes...and the rest of my feet.
There was a time I used to display the blisters of various colors and sizes to all my friends - since I was so proud of them. Nobody else had such a collection!
Am still suffering as I wore a nice new pair of formal shoes a couple of days back. Have this one horrendous burst blister- which means I can not wear shoes with a back for the time being.
And it reminded me of my long tryst with shoebites all my life.
Is it just me? Or my big, ugly feet?
I guess I am no Cinderella...
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Creativity
This is a poem I wrote in my B.Arch first year ragging period-
we were given this phrase "Mere miyaan ne ande diye"
and told to write a creative piece on it- and be as creative as possible!
This was a regular thing in ragging- we would get some of the most weird phrases-
(I remember, another one was- "Jab mera pair shitpot me fansa)
Ostensibly, to improve our creativity. So this is what I came up with,
and it became quite a legend in the hostel :)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mere Miyaan ne Ande Diye
Ik din mai kar rahi thhi, rasoi me kuchh kaam,
tabhi mere miyaan ne bulaya mera naam
phir andar se awaaz aayi kuchh yoon,
kukdoo koon, kukdoo koon
Mai pahunchi to darwaaza band thha,
ye sulook mujhe bilkul na pasand thha,
maine kaha "darwaaza kholo"
awaaz aayi, "abhi kuchh mat bolo"
yeh to koi jawaab na thha,
meri curiosity ka hisaab na thha,
maine utha liya hathauda,
aur usi waqt darwaaze ko toda
jaise hi meri nazar bistar par jhuki,
bas... meri to hansi hi na ruki
Miyaan bole...
Hanste hanste tumhara bura haal hai,
par sach kahoon, ye meri izzat ka sawaal hai
Ye ande maine abhi abhi diye hain,
tumhe na sahi, mujhe to bahut priye hain
Phir unhone Munne ko uske paalne se nikala,
aur uski jagah un andon ko daala,
maine Munne ko apni baahon me sameta,
par unhone to andon ko uske kambal me lapeta...
Ye dekh kar meri bhawhein tan gayi,
mai Kaali ka raudra roop ban gayi,
par unhone meri ek na maani,
kara wohi to man me thaani
kuchh dinon baad andon mein se, aayi kuchh awaaz,
hum daude gaye dekhne, kya thha iska raaz
Wo nazara dekh ke, hamaare ud gaye hosh,
andon me se nikle thhe, do pyaare khargosh
kuchh din huye, is baat ko kissa bane,
par wo dono hamaare parivaar ka hissa bane,
Munne ke saath wo
khelte hain chhupan-chhupai,
aakhir aapas mein,
wo hain to bhai- bhai
Chaahe is baat par, yakeen karna mushkil hai,
Par sach kahooon, jaanwaron ka bhi dil hai...
we were given this phrase "Mere miyaan ne ande diye"
and told to write a creative piece on it- and be as creative as possible!
This was a regular thing in ragging- we would get some of the most weird phrases-
(I remember, another one was- "Jab mera pair shitpot me fansa)
Ostensibly, to improve our creativity. So this is what I came up with,
and it became quite a legend in the hostel :)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mere Miyaan ne Ande Diye
Ik din mai kar rahi thhi, rasoi me kuchh kaam,
tabhi mere miyaan ne bulaya mera naam
phir andar se awaaz aayi kuchh yoon,
kukdoo koon, kukdoo koon
Mai pahunchi to darwaaza band thha,
ye sulook mujhe bilkul na pasand thha,
maine kaha "darwaaza kholo"
awaaz aayi, "abhi kuchh mat bolo"
yeh to koi jawaab na thha,
meri curiosity ka hisaab na thha,
maine utha liya hathauda,
aur usi waqt darwaaze ko toda
jaise hi meri nazar bistar par jhuki,
bas... meri to hansi hi na ruki
Miyaan bole...
Hanste hanste tumhara bura haal hai,
par sach kahoon, ye meri izzat ka sawaal hai
Ye ande maine abhi abhi diye hain,
tumhe na sahi, mujhe to bahut priye hain
Phir unhone Munne ko uske paalne se nikala,
aur uski jagah un andon ko daala,
maine Munne ko apni baahon me sameta,
par unhone to andon ko uske kambal me lapeta...
Ye dekh kar meri bhawhein tan gayi,
mai Kaali ka raudra roop ban gayi,
par unhone meri ek na maani,
kara wohi to man me thaani
kuchh dinon baad andon mein se, aayi kuchh awaaz,
hum daude gaye dekhne, kya thha iska raaz
Wo nazara dekh ke, hamaare ud gaye hosh,
andon me se nikle thhe, do pyaare khargosh
kuchh din huye, is baat ko kissa bane,
par wo dono hamaare parivaar ka hissa bane,
Munne ke saath wo
khelte hain chhupan-chhupai,
aakhir aapas mein,
wo hain to bhai- bhai
Chaahe is baat par, yakeen karna mushkil hai,
Par sach kahooon, jaanwaron ka bhi dil hai...
Friday, January 25, 2008
Seetharaman Narayanan
I have always been fascinated by this name- Seetharaman Narayanan. I have been using Photoshop for almost 8 years now, and I've been mesmerized by his name.
Photoshop and Seetharaman Narayanan are synonyms for me. There are times when, thinking about something that I'm designing in Photoshop- this name keeps reverberating at the back of my mind.
I always thought it was just me! And then, a few days back, I found this- an interview with the man himself.
And came to know that,
"Back in 2004, a simple comment was posted on the ConceptArt.org forum. It said, “Every time I open up photoshop I am mezmorized by this guy’s name. It’s all I can look at. Don’t know why…” Six pages of “Me, too!” responses followed."
So its the rest of the world as well! And I thought it was only me who kept staring and staring at the name. And that is why I decided to look him up. Here's what he looks like (Or what he's made to look like):
Seetharaman as God.
(P.S.- I like the mustache).
Photoshop and Seetharaman Narayanan are synonyms for me. There are times when, thinking about something that I'm designing in Photoshop- this name keeps reverberating at the back of my mind.
I always thought it was just me! And then, a few days back, I found this- an interview with the man himself.
And came to know that,
"Back in 2004, a simple comment was posted on the ConceptArt.org forum. It said, “Every time I open up photoshop I am mezmorized by this guy’s name. It’s all I can look at. Don’t know why…” Six pages of “Me, too!” responses followed."
So its the rest of the world as well! And I thought it was only me who kept staring and staring at the name. And that is why I decided to look him up. Here's what he looks like (Or what he's made to look like):
Seetharaman as God.
(P.S.- I like the mustache).
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Lakshman Rekha
Men and women experience urban space differently.
(a universal truth, which I would have thought everybody would have perceived and experienced).
However, at a recent party, we just happened to talk about this- and one guy said- "Is that true? I really don't know. I think this atleast does not happen in India"
DUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Which essentially proves my point- men and women experience urban space differently. AND- that this guy was a thick blockhead with no perception.
Women grow up (especially in India) with an inherent sense of the implicit and perceived danger in open urban spaces. We have all heard incessant warnings about not going out after dark, ever.
We've all had our share of those experiences- be it a groping hand passing by on the street, on the crowded public bus, waiting for the bus at night...
My point being- an inherent caution of public space is built into women, and it comes as a natural part of our perception and experience. I had thought of this as something everybody knew- there is, after all, a lot of press on Eve-teasing, and women's molestation, etc.- especially in India. It is part and parcel of our daily life in India.
More so, because public places are not deemed as "proper" places for respectable Indian women to be seen in. Being in a public place at the wrong time is "asking for it".
New Year's Eve, Mumbai was not an aberration. India is getting unsafer by the day (ToI, sometime this Jan).
Take a look at these guidelines- they would be hilarious, if they were not so saddeningly true. These are rules that are internalized by all Indian women, and have been spelt out only for visitors. YES, this is how we all know we are supposed to behave. These are our Lakshman-Rekhas...
So it irritated me no end when an educated, supposedly well-read Indian said this. Made me angry. Maybe somebody needs to put their blinkers away. This truth will never penetrate his narrow vision, perception and thought. Actually, considering his ways of thinking, he maybe believes women have no need to be in a public place at all! (As you can guess, I am infuriated).
Does this say something about Indian men? If they don't even SEE the problem, how can effective steps be made to solve it???
See here!!!
(a universal truth, which I would have thought everybody would have perceived and experienced).
However, at a recent party, we just happened to talk about this- and one guy said- "Is that true? I really don't know. I think this atleast does not happen in India"
DUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Which essentially proves my point- men and women experience urban space differently. AND- that this guy was a thick blockhead with no perception.
Women grow up (especially in India) with an inherent sense of the implicit and perceived danger in open urban spaces. We have all heard incessant warnings about not going out after dark, ever.
We've all had our share of those experiences- be it a groping hand passing by on the street, on the crowded public bus, waiting for the bus at night...
My point being- an inherent caution of public space is built into women, and it comes as a natural part of our perception and experience. I had thought of this as something everybody knew- there is, after all, a lot of press on Eve-teasing, and women's molestation, etc.- especially in India. It is part and parcel of our daily life in India.
More so, because public places are not deemed as "proper" places for respectable Indian women to be seen in. Being in a public place at the wrong time is "asking for it".
New Year's Eve, Mumbai was not an aberration. India is getting unsafer by the day (ToI, sometime this Jan).
Take a look at these guidelines- they would be hilarious, if they were not so saddeningly true. These are rules that are internalized by all Indian women, and have been spelt out only for visitors. YES, this is how we all know we are supposed to behave. These are our Lakshman-Rekhas...
So it irritated me no end when an educated, supposedly well-read Indian said this. Made me angry. Maybe somebody needs to put their blinkers away. This truth will never penetrate his narrow vision, perception and thought. Actually, considering his ways of thinking, he maybe believes women have no need to be in a public place at all! (As you can guess, I am infuriated).
Does this say something about Indian men? If they don't even SEE the problem, how can effective steps be made to solve it???
See here!!!
Monday, January 07, 2008
Jaam
The most intoxicating song of all time:
Here.
For the first time ever, I have put a song on my blog.
This is one song I used to listen to when I was growing up (that will make you wonder about the kind of songs I listened to ;)
Actually, my Mom was a ghazal fanatic- and so we both used to listen to these Urdu ghazals, and she would explain not only the literal Urdu meaning of the word, but also the deeper meaning of the whole.
I still remember her ghazal diaries- she would sing the ghazal (she has an amazing voice and had trained in classical music) and then explain their meanings to me - and as a budding teenager, with all its incipient heartaches, I would be absorbed in this wonderful world and find a resonance within me!!
So began a lifetime of love for Urdu and Sher-o-shayari. I am a huge Ghalib fan and just love his poetry.
And of course, the Jaam is such an integral part of the ghazal...
Which is the reason for this post.
If you love alcohol/liquor/ sharaab- you just have to listen to this song.
It is the most incredible tribute to sharaab- listen to the tadap and talab for it as you hear the depth of longing for sharaab... in Munni Begum's incomparable voice!
The lyrics are spectacular- every word a joyous celebration of nasha...
A must hear for all alcohol-philes!!
And a fitting start to the 2008 blogging year- with spirit!!!!!
Here.
For the first time ever, I have put a song on my blog.
This is one song I used to listen to when I was growing up (that will make you wonder about the kind of songs I listened to ;)
Actually, my Mom was a ghazal fanatic- and so we both used to listen to these Urdu ghazals, and she would explain not only the literal Urdu meaning of the word, but also the deeper meaning of the whole.
I still remember her ghazal diaries- she would sing the ghazal (she has an amazing voice and had trained in classical music) and then explain their meanings to me - and as a budding teenager, with all its incipient heartaches, I would be absorbed in this wonderful world and find a resonance within me!!
So began a lifetime of love for Urdu and Sher-o-shayari. I am a huge Ghalib fan and just love his poetry.
And of course, the Jaam is such an integral part of the ghazal...
Which is the reason for this post.
If you love alcohol/liquor/ sharaab- you just have to listen to this song.
It is the most incredible tribute to sharaab- listen to the tadap and talab for it as you hear the depth of longing for sharaab... in Munni Begum's incomparable voice!
The lyrics are spectacular- every word a joyous celebration of nasha...
A must hear for all alcohol-philes!!
And a fitting start to the 2008 blogging year- with spirit!!!!!
Thursday, December 13, 2007
All-nighter
Kaise meri subah se shaam,
Kya raat hoti hai,
aisa kyun hota hai
kab ye baat hoti hai...
Jaise tapte sone se,
tapta sona milta hai
Aise hi kuchh mera din,
meri raaton mein pighalta hai
Sooraj ki hichkichaati kirnein,
jaise har taraf ki baraf par bikhre hue taare,
kya aasmaan zameen palat gaye,
ya din me phir raat hui?
Kyun tu bhi ai mere dost,
ye padh ke hairaan hai,
meri baaton pe itna gaur na kar
bas... kal mera imtehaan hai :)
Heheeehawhaawhaw...
(I spout random inane poetry at 5:00 AM after a whole night of studying Statistics. Finally, exam over!)
Kya raat hoti hai,
aisa kyun hota hai
kab ye baat hoti hai...
Jaise tapte sone se,
tapta sona milta hai
Aise hi kuchh mera din,
meri raaton mein pighalta hai
Sooraj ki hichkichaati kirnein,
jaise har taraf ki baraf par bikhre hue taare,
kya aasmaan zameen palat gaye,
ya din me phir raat hui?
Kyun tu bhi ai mere dost,
ye padh ke hairaan hai,
meri baaton pe itna gaur na kar
bas... kal mera imtehaan hai :)
Heheeehawhaawhaw...
(I spout random inane poetry at 5:00 AM after a whole night of studying Statistics. Finally, exam over!)
Monday, December 03, 2007
Picture abhi baaki hai, mere dost
What I love is the simple triteness of Bollywood. And even then managing to make me accept their banal words as a major philosophical truth for my life. Am I so besotted with "the pikchars" that I swallow every over-cliched maxim they choose to throw at me?
And the fact is that yes, I do believe in quite a lot of the most banal things that the movies say. Anything that makes me happy, or sad, or hopeful or angry... or any number of the vast range of emotions I go through when I see a movie I like. Not to mention the wit that surfaces few and far between in our movies.
One of the best one-liners of all times, had come from Mr. Gaikwonde (how many out there remember this classic role essayed to delirious perfection by Anu Kapoor and his dysfunctional telephone)- "Kamaal hai Seema- ye dikhai nahi deta aur ye sunaai nahi deta."
Sridevi in Lamhe "Mai to Kunwarji ko tabse pyaar karti hoon jabse mai paanch saal ki thhi" was a muhtod jawaab to Anita's (I think that was her name, I don't remember for sure), "Mai Kunwarji ko paanch saal se pyaar karti hoon".
Another line that I remember mouthing, to all my friends, was "Someone somewhere is made for you" (read Me!) from DTPH. Oh, I so believed in it (and let me reiterate that I still do- if I could find my soulmate and Mr. Perfect, so I believe the rest of the world can, too).
I guess the next one is an all-time favorite with half the world -"Hum cake khaane ke liye kahin bhi jaa sakte hain", from DCH. This was one movie that was full of a lot of wit (unlike most Hindi movies of the time). The badinage between the three friends was hilariously witty (even at the very serious end- "Perfection ko improve karna mushkil hai"- which is one of my husband's favorite lines- for himself, obviously :)
KANK - "Har shaadi ki buniyaad sirf beinteha mohabbat honi chahiye."
But, well- let me come to the line jo aajkal mere zahan me ghoomti rahti hai-
"Hamaari zindagi me bhi, hamaari filmon ki tarah, end me sab theek hi ho jaata hai"
This may be the tritest clichedest saying in the whole world, but I love it. I believe in it. It gives me hope. It makes me smile. It makes me happy. Om Shanti Om was this amazing incredible witty funny romp which kept me laughing and enjoying every bit of it, but what stuck with me was SRK making his Baatli award acceptance speech- which was one of the most touching scenes in the movie.
And I do choose to adopt this as my current {atleast till the next SRK movie comes along ;)} truth in life, ki hamaari zindagi me bhi, end me sab kuchh theek hi ho jaata hai. Kyunki aisa hi hota hai. Kyunki this is what moves us along. This is the talisman that burns in our hearts and warms us with its presence. This is Hope.
Aur agar theek nahi hua, to ye The End nahi hai...
Picture abhi baaki hai, mere dost..............................
And the fact is that yes, I do believe in quite a lot of the most banal things that the movies say. Anything that makes me happy, or sad, or hopeful or angry... or any number of the vast range of emotions I go through when I see a movie I like. Not to mention the wit that surfaces few and far between in our movies.
One of the best one-liners of all times, had come from Mr. Gaikwonde (how many out there remember this classic role essayed to delirious perfection by Anu Kapoor and his dysfunctional telephone)- "Kamaal hai Seema- ye dikhai nahi deta aur ye sunaai nahi deta."
Sridevi in Lamhe "Mai to Kunwarji ko tabse pyaar karti hoon jabse mai paanch saal ki thhi" was a muhtod jawaab to Anita's (I think that was her name, I don't remember for sure), "Mai Kunwarji ko paanch saal se pyaar karti hoon".
Another line that I remember mouthing, to all my friends, was "Someone somewhere is made for you" (read Me!) from DTPH. Oh, I so believed in it (and let me reiterate that I still do- if I could find my soulmate and Mr. Perfect, so I believe the rest of the world can, too).
I guess the next one is an all-time favorite with half the world -"Hum cake khaane ke liye kahin bhi jaa sakte hain", from DCH. This was one movie that was full of a lot of wit (unlike most Hindi movies of the time). The badinage between the three friends was hilariously witty (even at the very serious end- "Perfection ko improve karna mushkil hai"- which is one of my husband's favorite lines- for himself, obviously :)
KANK - "Har shaadi ki buniyaad sirf beinteha mohabbat honi chahiye."
But, well- let me come to the line jo aajkal mere zahan me ghoomti rahti hai-
"Hamaari zindagi me bhi, hamaari filmon ki tarah, end me sab theek hi ho jaata hai"
This may be the tritest clichedest saying in the whole world, but I love it. I believe in it. It gives me hope. It makes me smile. It makes me happy. Om Shanti Om was this amazing incredible witty funny romp which kept me laughing and enjoying every bit of it, but what stuck with me was SRK making his Baatli award acceptance speech- which was one of the most touching scenes in the movie.
And I do choose to adopt this as my current {atleast till the next SRK movie comes along ;)} truth in life, ki hamaari zindagi me bhi, end me sab kuchh theek hi ho jaata hai. Kyunki aisa hi hota hai. Kyunki this is what moves us along. This is the talisman that burns in our hearts and warms us with its presence. This is Hope.
Aur agar theek nahi hua, to ye The End nahi hai...
Picture abhi baaki hai, mere dost..............................
Friday, November 02, 2007
Karwa Chauth
So I kept the Karwa Chauth- my first ever, obviously.
And it led to this host of questions arising in my mind, and questions about why the questions came (sounds convoluted- believe me, it was even more confused in my mind).
Firstly, I wanted the questions not to come. I wanted to accept totally and with complete faith the institution of the Vrat, and the idea behind it. I wanted to be any one of those millions of Indian women who take it as their unquestioned duty (and privilege- after all, what higher privilege than being married and showing it) to do the Vrat. I wanted that mindlessness, that total faith, that complete acceptance.
In parts of North India (especially the Punjabi belt), the Karwa Chauth is no longer just about the vrat itself. It has been totally commercialized- look at the millions of advertisements in the national print media. It has become the occasion to flaunt your saree, wealth, status- or who got the bigger, better gift from their husbands (Dah-ling, a saree...you can wear it the next time I take you out in the car I got...)
But then- I think Punjabis have a penchant for turning every occasion into a reason to flaunt themselves (considering that I am one, I know ;)
I kept asking myself, why the vrat? Does giving up food and water for one day really make your husband live longer, make him richer and happier (In my case- he would probably be happy if I gave up food forever- considering my weight ;)
Or as the feminist junta is quick to point out- you don't see men doing the same for women (apart from, of course, the two most important men in my life- Shahrukh Khan and my husband (in that order). My better half offered to do the vrat with me- for my longevity and happiness, since he is as much of a feminist as I am. Maybe more- I just sit and crib about the state of Indian women, he says we should do something about it.
However, the presumption here is that most Indian men don't care about their wives living longer, or being happier. I am sure that they do-only they are not expected to keep a strict fast to prove the same.
And yet... I did it. Did I do it because I am Indian? Because I have internalized certain norms of behavior, which I will feel guilty about not following?
Maybe my reasons are the same as everybody else's. I do want to die a suhagan, but mostly because I know, living without him is a pain I cannot bear. Because I would willingly give up the last drop of water if it makes him live longer.
Because it makes me a part of this larger community of Indian women who kept the Karwa Chauth. I was imagining a globe, with Indians in scattered parts- from Kenya to Canada- women all over who did the vrat. Wherever an Indian woman is, the Karwa Chauth is an essential part of her being married. So I kept imagining random dots in sarees waiting for the moon rise. And I was one of those sprinkled dots.
And lastly- because of Kajol and Shahrukh Khan.
Because, to this day, this moment, I can never hear the following lines and not cry. Itne saalon se, isko sun ke aajtak aankhon me paani aata hai
"Tere haath se pee kar paani,
Daasi se ban jaaun Raani"
I just believe in this. Totally. Unquestioned. Completely. Kajol believes in it because she loves him- totally.
It is only love that matters.
"Har shaadi ki buniyaad sirf beinteha mohabbat honi chahiye"
(again, SRK in KANK)
Then, the Karwa Chauth becomes a true prayer. Not because you have to do it, but because you want to. Because its not a tradition, it is a choice.
And it led to this host of questions arising in my mind, and questions about why the questions came (sounds convoluted- believe me, it was even more confused in my mind).
Firstly, I wanted the questions not to come. I wanted to accept totally and with complete faith the institution of the Vrat, and the idea behind it. I wanted to be any one of those millions of Indian women who take it as their unquestioned duty (and privilege- after all, what higher privilege than being married and showing it) to do the Vrat. I wanted that mindlessness, that total faith, that complete acceptance.
In parts of North India (especially the Punjabi belt), the Karwa Chauth is no longer just about the vrat itself. It has been totally commercialized- look at the millions of advertisements in the national print media. It has become the occasion to flaunt your saree, wealth, status- or who got the bigger, better gift from their husbands (Dah-ling, a saree...you can wear it the next time I take you out in the car I got...)
But then- I think Punjabis have a penchant for turning every occasion into a reason to flaunt themselves (considering that I am one, I know ;)
I kept asking myself, why the vrat? Does giving up food and water for one day really make your husband live longer, make him richer and happier (In my case- he would probably be happy if I gave up food forever- considering my weight ;)
Or as the feminist junta is quick to point out- you don't see men doing the same for women (apart from, of course, the two most important men in my life- Shahrukh Khan and my husband (in that order). My better half offered to do the vrat with me- for my longevity and happiness, since he is as much of a feminist as I am. Maybe more- I just sit and crib about the state of Indian women, he says we should do something about it.
However, the presumption here is that most Indian men don't care about their wives living longer, or being happier. I am sure that they do-only they are not expected to keep a strict fast to prove the same.
And yet... I did it. Did I do it because I am Indian? Because I have internalized certain norms of behavior, which I will feel guilty about not following?
Maybe my reasons are the same as everybody else's. I do want to die a suhagan, but mostly because I know, living without him is a pain I cannot bear. Because I would willingly give up the last drop of water if it makes him live longer.
Because it makes me a part of this larger community of Indian women who kept the Karwa Chauth. I was imagining a globe, with Indians in scattered parts- from Kenya to Canada- women all over who did the vrat. Wherever an Indian woman is, the Karwa Chauth is an essential part of her being married. So I kept imagining random dots in sarees waiting for the moon rise. And I was one of those sprinkled dots.
And lastly- because of Kajol and Shahrukh Khan.
Because, to this day, this moment, I can never hear the following lines and not cry. Itne saalon se, isko sun ke aajtak aankhon me paani aata hai
"Tere haath se pee kar paani,
Daasi se ban jaaun Raani"
I just believe in this. Totally. Unquestioned. Completely. Kajol believes in it because she loves him- totally.
It is only love that matters.
"Har shaadi ki buniyaad sirf beinteha mohabbat honi chahiye"
(again, SRK in KANK)
Then, the Karwa Chauth becomes a true prayer. Not because you have to do it, but because you want to. Because its not a tradition, it is a choice.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
In Memoriam, In Sorrow
I am writing this with a grieving heart- not because the sorrow is any less, but because I believe he deserves a great eulogy. I am sure lots of others have been shedding tears about whoever their favorites were (and who died in battle), but my tears haven't stopped. For Dobby.
After reading this, I realize that I was not the only one crying. Yet, we all cried for different people. There is mourning, there is pain, and there is triumph. Oh, much is said and written, yet I feel that Dobby was not mourned enough.
Can grief ever be enough at death? Yet it is essential for our catharsis. Grief is what makes us real, it is our ability to mourn, to remember, to cry- to feel the depths of pain that make us truly human.
I keep remembering the little things. Especially the socks. The patterns of snitches and broomsticks. His lines keep coming back to me-"They is giving you two the same"... "a barmy old codger if we likes"... "your Wheezy"...
Oh Dobby, Dobby......
His utter devotion to Harry. His caring for Winky. His delight at getting Ron's jumper. His big tennis ball eyes looking lovingly at Potter.
He was always such a bechara. So servile. So happy every time Harry so much as smiled at him. So devoted, so faithful, so lovable. And the end..did she have to use the word "supplication". That killed me...
I was worried that she'd kill Harry. I didn't even think about Dobby. Strange-we all so seldom think about the death of people we love most. Maybe, they do live within us.
My only satisfaction comes from the fact that he died in the arms of the person he loved most in the whole world. And that he died saving Harry's life (that would have made him happy).
(only, I still can't stop crying. I had to stop reading for two hours while I cried. But the tears come back again..and again. My words here can not lessen the depth of pain, nor can my tears extinguish the grief).
I have no idea whether house-elves, like wizards, move on. But I hope they do. I hope wherever he is, he's happy.
Dobby, we'll miss you. You'll always be there - dancing happily in your tea-cosy.
Can grief ever be enough at death? Yet it is essential for our catharsis. Grief is what makes us real, it is our ability to mourn, to remember, to cry- to feel the depths of pain that make us truly human.
I keep remembering the little things. Especially the socks. The patterns of snitches and broomsticks. His lines keep coming back to me-"They is giving you two the same"... "a barmy old codger if we likes"... "your Wheezy"...
Oh Dobby, Dobby......
His utter devotion to Harry. His caring for Winky. His delight at getting Ron's jumper. His big tennis ball eyes looking lovingly at Potter.
He was always such a bechara. So servile. So happy every time Harry so much as smiled at him. So devoted, so faithful, so lovable. And the end..did she have to use the word "supplication". That killed me...
I was worried that she'd kill Harry. I didn't even think about Dobby. Strange-we all so seldom think about the death of people we love most. Maybe, they do live within us.
My only satisfaction comes from the fact that he died in the arms of the person he loved most in the whole world. And that he died saving Harry's life (that would have made him happy).
(only, I still can't stop crying. I had to stop reading for two hours while I cried. But the tears come back again..and again. My words here can not lessen the depth of pain, nor can my tears extinguish the grief).
I have no idea whether house-elves, like wizards, move on. But I hope they do. I hope wherever he is, he's happy.
Dobby, we'll miss you. You'll always be there - dancing happily in your tea-cosy.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Daaru, Jua aur Aurat: Kkahani Vegas Kii I
Finally a travel chronicle- For the first time ever, this blog features something I did, as opposed to my endless rants on how I feel, how I felt and how I'm going to feel...
Oh, don't go away, the whining and cribbing will be back soon ( I know just HOW much you all out there empathize with me!!!)
We (nope- neither do I suffer from MPD nor am I pregnant {undergrad hostel joke-he he}, just me and my better (definitely-once you get to know us) half (introduced to one and all as TBH- The Better Half, or Tall, Black {actually, he's more on the saanwla side (guess where I picked that from)(also- I'm a gori-chitti Punju racist)} and Handsome (I'm losing track of these brackets within brackets within...oh heck!) ) visited Las Vegas recently. An oasis of sin(?) in the middle of the desert. Quite definitely Paradise Found.
Oh, don't go away, the whining and cribbing will be back soon ( I know just HOW much you all out there empathize with me!!!)
We (nope- neither do I suffer from MPD nor am I pregnant {undergrad hostel joke-he he}, just me and my better (definitely-once you get to know us) half (introduced to one and all as TBH- The Better Half, or Tall, Black {actually, he's more on the saanwla side (guess where I picked that from)(also- I'm a gori-chitti Punju racist)} and Handsome (I'm losing track of these brackets within brackets within...oh heck!) ) visited Las Vegas recently. An oasis of sin(?) in the middle of the desert. Quite definitely Paradise Found.
Yes, Vegas is the Garden of Eden, recreated and redefined. It is where everything is legal, permissible, right. Where one sleeps in the morning and goes out at night. As TBH put it- all the rules are inverted in Vegas. This was apparent the minute we entered Nevada- from the border to Vegas, nobody was following the speed limit. The glittering lights, the first view of the Strip, the historic casinos (where poker history was made {TBH is a poker lover (yup, poker meri sauten hai) and so I got to hear it all} made us both go Look! Look! Look! - till a near death swerve got us looking at the road again!!There is the historic (and old) downtown, where it all started. As the story goes, Vegas started as a place for entertainment and recreation (euphemisms, how I love thee) for the workers of Hoover Dam. A win-win situation for all.
Downtown is festooned with lights, lights everywhere. The most amazing feature is the 1500 feet long arched roof over Fremont Street- which is actually a screen. Its quite awe-inspiring at night as it comes alive with the most psychedelic colors and patterns possible.
To quote U, "Its Diwali everyday in Vegas".
To quote U, "Its Diwali everyday in Vegas".
Quite literally. Diwali is also a day for Jua, gambling, in India. And so, it IS Diwali all the time. From every possible card game, to sportsbooks, to racing, to real estate. Gaming Hells have donned a whole new glamorous avataar, they are now Gaming jannats as they are reinvented in the casinos, miles and miles of real estate dedicated to every form of gambling.
Each of the casinos was more glamorous and grander than the next. Bigger, better, showier- it was impossible to comprehend- and its even more difficult to put here in words just HOW grand they were. The architecture was mind-boggling, with Paris and Rome vying for attention next to Monte Carlo and New York. The pyramids were just half a mile away, right next to the beach at Mandalay. Treasure Island was a stone's throw away, right in front of Venice. Ahh! The gondolas. The Bridge of Sighs. St. Marks' Square. Tao.
(the nightclub to end all nightclubs. I felt like Arthur- the people, the lights...the people).
(the nightclub to end all nightclubs. I felt like Arthur- the people, the lights...the people).
(Look at the sky! Its a huge artificial ceiling- so its always early evening on the piazza. Beyond which are the nightclubs).
TBH played poker, while I lounged around in the fashion of the best of Bond (plunging neckline dresses and sipping sultry martinis seductively {sultry martinis?- oh, well, you get the picture- besides, I love alliteration} babes {now, if only I could buy the body to go with it} (too many brackets again). Or stare at the women. Each more glamorous than the next. The dresses, the shoes, the stilettos... ... the stilettos (there I go again).
I was obsessed with their heels. How did they ALL manage those pointy 6" heels? And here I was, tottering in my 2" itsy-bitsy heeled sandals (I gave up and walked barefoot for the rest of the night). It did take away from the glam doll- hot babe picture I was trying so hard to project, but my feet were killing me.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Not only is it already morning (and I'm not in Vegas anymore, alas!) but the length of this post is getting to be quite unwieldy. Not to mention boring.
I'll continue the Kkahani in my next post.
(In true Kk fashion, the story is endless).
So you can all wait with bated breath for the next episode!!!!!!! After all, I haven't even touched on the "Aurat" topic I promised in the title. Yes, I fooled you into reading this one..and the next...and...I'll continue the Kkahani in my next post.
(In true Kk fashion, the story is endless).
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Blankety-Blank
Marvin's the clearest thinker I know.
Or maybe
"We apologize for the inconvenience."
Apology NOT accepted, God.
Or maybe
"We apologize for the inconvenience."
Apology NOT accepted, God.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Tanhaayi
Haan bolo,
tum bhi to lafzon me taraasho..
ki tumhari chubhan, tumhari pyaas,
waisi hi hai jaisi meri...
jo mere man ki khalish hai,
kya uska aks tum me bhi hai
ye jo lafz mere labon par kampkapaate hain
kabhi inka sannaata sunte ho,
Ankahi si hazaar baatein,
kya tumhaare labon par hazaar mauton se milti hain..
kya tum bhi kabhi meri tarah tadapte ho...
kuchh sunne ko taraste ho...
bolo, kabhi to izhaar karo,
ki shayad meri khamoshi ko awaaz mile
Kabhi to tum bhi awaaz do,
haat badhaao, intezaar karo
Dil ki awaaz sun, sab tarqon se pare
kabhi to beinteha pyaar karo...
tum bhi to lafzon me taraasho..
ki tumhari chubhan, tumhari pyaas,
waisi hi hai jaisi meri...
jo mere man ki khalish hai,
kya uska aks tum me bhi hai
ye jo lafz mere labon par kampkapaate hain
kabhi inka sannaata sunte ho,
Ankahi si hazaar baatein,
kya tumhaare labon par hazaar mauton se milti hain..
kya tum bhi kabhi meri tarah tadapte ho...
kuchh sunne ko taraste ho...
bolo, kabhi to izhaar karo,
ki shayad meri khamoshi ko awaaz mile
Kabhi to tum bhi awaaz do,
haat badhaao, intezaar karo
Dil ki awaaz sun, sab tarqon se pare
kabhi to beinteha pyaar karo...
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Ode to Baba Sehgal
A lot of people (read: bloggers) have dedicated reams of virtual paper writing tributes to their favorite music directors, singers etc. like RD Burman (does he feature everywhere!).
Listening to some of his songs today- gems which I rediscovered today, I decided to write this especial feature on Baba Sehgal.
I was (Yes, honestly) an ardent fan while growing up (I think I was in Class 8th or 9th). Baba Sehgal had burst on the nascent IndiPop scene with Thanda Thanda Paani. Followed by his other smash hit, Mai bhi Madonna. I fell in love with that song.
(I have been trying to find that song for ages now. If anybody can give it to me, I will be their servant forever. Seriously, this is a fervent request- does anybody have this song? Or can give me a lead as to where I could find it?)
And the amazing 'Jat Ludhiane ka'. Who can forget his 'Miss Loomba Loomba'.
The most amazing part of all his songs are the awesome lyrics- NO JOKING!
They are just so funny and witty and outrageously ridiculous... I was laughing out loud most of the time today :)
Not that we all don't know the story- how this electrical engineer left his job in DESU to go into music. And the rest, as they say (who does?), is history.
(Hai Raam! Sarkari naukri chhod di munde ne!!)
Not only was I reliving some of the most glorious days of my childhood (Ohh! Saraswati Kunj, how I miss thee!), I had one of the most enjoyable funny and glorious afternoons ever, especially as I was doing some extremely mundane mind-bogglingly dull work alongside.
So to all people in the world whose tastes are as weird as mine-
Here is where to go!
And somebody- puh-lease find me 'Mai bhi Madonna'. And while you're at it, also 'Jat Ludhiane ka'. And...
;)
I shall shall shall be eternally grateful.
By God ki Kasam!!!
Listening to some of his songs today- gems which I rediscovered today, I decided to write this especial feature on Baba Sehgal.
I was (Yes, honestly) an ardent fan while growing up (I think I was in Class 8th or 9th). Baba Sehgal had burst on the nascent IndiPop scene with Thanda Thanda Paani. Followed by his other smash hit, Mai bhi Madonna. I fell in love with that song.
(I have been trying to find that song for ages now. If anybody can give it to me, I will be their servant forever. Seriously, this is a fervent request- does anybody have this song? Or can give me a lead as to where I could find it?)
And the amazing 'Jat Ludhiane ka'. Who can forget his 'Miss Loomba Loomba'.
The most amazing part of all his songs are the awesome lyrics- NO JOKING!
They are just so funny and witty and outrageously ridiculous... I was laughing out loud most of the time today :)
Not that we all don't know the story- how this electrical engineer left his job in DESU to go into music. And the rest, as they say (who does?), is history.
(Hai Raam! Sarkari naukri chhod di munde ne!!)
Not only was I reliving some of the most glorious days of my childhood (Ohh! Saraswati Kunj, how I miss thee!), I had one of the most enjoyable funny and glorious afternoons ever, especially as I was doing some extremely mundane mind-bogglingly dull work alongside.
So to all people in the world whose tastes are as weird as mine-
Here is where to go!
And somebody- puh-lease find me 'Mai bhi Madonna'. And while you're at it, also 'Jat Ludhiane ka'. And...
;)
I shall shall shall be eternally grateful.
By God ki Kasam!!!
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Bad Habits
This is what comes of staying awake all night, reading other people's blogs and pilfering their ideas. This post is a result of this post.
For it got me thinking. Not just that Indian men expect their wives to be virgins. Just that the whole world does too.
Actually, for most men and women in any normal middle-class Indian family, there is no other way of thinking. The-alternative-does-not-exist.
Yes, some of us might not agree, saying that India has progressed, its not so in the big cities, etc. etc.
Well, sure. Maybe not. But that is how it is in the tens of thousands of towns and cities and mindsets. Its such a blanket mindset that I cannot even begin to explain how ubiquitous it is.
And this promulgates such that most men/women in/on the marriage market(that is how we do it in India) take this mostly as a given. If even a whiff of the fact that the girl ever had a boyfriend/ was seeing someone/ talked to guys (ok, slight exaggeration here ;)) fell into the prospective groom's family's ears, the match was doomed. No one but a pristine bride for our son, thank you very much!!
Its such an integral part of our culture (?). Indian girls do not drink, sleep with/touch men, have opinions or other such bad habits. Oh God, who will marry them otherwise?
Yikes, why did I start on this? The diatribe shall not end once I get started.
I have opinions on this. And other bad habits as well.
:)
For it got me thinking. Not just that Indian men expect their wives to be virgins. Just that the whole world does too.
Actually, for most men and women in any normal middle-class Indian family, there is no other way of thinking. The-alternative-does-not-exist.
Yes, some of us might not agree, saying that India has progressed, its not so in the big cities, etc. etc.
Well, sure. Maybe not. But that is how it is in the tens of thousands of towns and cities and mindsets. Its such a blanket mindset that I cannot even begin to explain how ubiquitous it is.
And this promulgates such that most men/women in/on the marriage market(that is how we do it in India) take this mostly as a given. If even a whiff of the fact that the girl ever had a boyfriend/ was seeing someone/ talked to guys (ok, slight exaggeration here ;)) fell into the prospective groom's family's ears, the match was doomed. No one but a pristine bride for our son, thank you very much!!
Its such an integral part of our culture (?). Indian girls do not drink, sleep with/touch men, have opinions or other such bad habits. Oh God, who will marry them otherwise?
Yikes, why did I start on this? The diatribe shall not end once I get started.
I have opinions on this. And other bad habits as well.
:)
Monday, May 21, 2007
Love and Chocolate Cake
I so wanted to bake a cake. SOOOOO wanted to bake a cake.
Every pore of my being craved to bake one!
Don't ask why! Lets call the reason love :)
Okay, now this might be a perfectly natural craving for some of us, but given that
a) I had never baked (Once- but had set the cake on fire)
b) I had absolutely NO ingredients to bake a cake.
I still wanted to do it. And Yes, the reason was Love.
:)
Anyway- I did manage a pretty good cake, with nothing to begin with. Improvised every step of the way. Love brings its own inspiration :)
Here's my first recipe on this blog:
The "Crazily-in-Love" Chocolate Cake
1 cup Aata (Thats normal everyday flour)
1.5 cups of Oil
1 cup of sugar
I kneaded all this together.
7 Oreo Cookies
Chopped them to a powder in the food processor
(that was my only source of chocolate)
15 Cashewnuts
Chopped coarse in the food processor.
Added the above to the dry batter.
NOW- the big question.
I had no idea what to do next.
NO EGGS. NO MILK.
I did not know how to make a batter with all my dry ingredients.
Inspiration again.
I took out the remaining one-fourth tub of Strawberry Ice-cream. Put it into a plastic container, added some water. And microwaved it.
Viola! I had milk.
Mixed it into the flour mixture- and my smooth, fine batter was ready.
Added the baking powder (actually, 1 spoonful of Eno) and that was it.
Poured the batter into the baking dish.
Any I had my perfect chocolate cake after an hour.
No, not really- it did break when I took it out of the baking dish.
But it made me immeasurably happy.
I was listening to these absolutely cheesy 80's-90's romantic Hindi movie songs while cooking (the kind you don't want to own up to even being in the same room as). With this mushy smile on my face. For all those stupid silly soppy songs suddenly made sense.
Happy :)
For doing this kind of corny cooking. For doing it to make just one moment special.
(Obviously, later both would be too drunk/ asleep).
:)
Happy First Month Anniversary to ME!!!
Every pore of my being craved to bake one!
Don't ask why! Lets call the reason love :)
Okay, now this might be a perfectly natural craving for some of us, but given that
a) I had never baked (Once- but had set the cake on fire)
b) I had absolutely NO ingredients to bake a cake.
I still wanted to do it. And Yes, the reason was Love.
:)
Anyway- I did manage a pretty good cake, with nothing to begin with. Improvised every step of the way. Love brings its own inspiration :)
Here's my first recipe on this blog:
The "Crazily-in-Love" Chocolate Cake
1 cup Aata (Thats normal everyday flour)
1.5 cups of Oil
1 cup of sugar
I kneaded all this together.
7 Oreo Cookies
Chopped them to a powder in the food processor
(that was my only source of chocolate)
15 Cashewnuts
Chopped coarse in the food processor.
Added the above to the dry batter.
NOW- the big question.
I had no idea what to do next.
NO EGGS. NO MILK.
I did not know how to make a batter with all my dry ingredients.
Inspiration again.
I took out the remaining one-fourth tub of Strawberry Ice-cream. Put it into a plastic container, added some water. And microwaved it.
Viola! I had milk.
Mixed it into the flour mixture- and my smooth, fine batter was ready.
Added the baking powder (actually, 1 spoonful of Eno) and that was it.
Poured the batter into the baking dish.
Any I had my perfect chocolate cake after an hour.
No, not really- it did break when I took it out of the baking dish.
But it made me immeasurably happy.
I was listening to these absolutely cheesy 80's-90's romantic Hindi movie songs while cooking (the kind you don't want to own up to even being in the same room as). With this mushy smile on my face. For all those stupid silly soppy songs suddenly made sense.
Happy :)
For doing this kind of corny cooking. For doing it to make just one moment special.
(Obviously, later both would be too drunk/ asleep).
:)
Happy First Month Anniversary to ME!!!
Friday, March 09, 2007
The Ekalavya Debate: Should he have cut off his Thumb?
How many of you have seen the movie Eklavya?
I did, a few days back- and so the previous post.
"Dharma Matigrah Udghrutah" was quoted in the movie -
as THE virtuous path being that which your mind and heart says is right.
And so I had a this debate with my friend, about Dharma. He argued that the movie was a letdown, for Eklavya did not follow his Dharma in the end. The character was built up as one whose only motivation, reason for being and self-validation came from following his Dharma (in this instance, protecting the King).
Thus, when the quandary of following Dharma arises in the end- well,
Should he have killed his own son?
Should Eklavya cut off his thumb again???
According to my friend, yes, he definitely should have killed his son, and the fact that he did not takes away from the basic premise of the movie. The manner in which Eklavya was portrayed reinforces the values and sanctity of following Dharma (or at least, what one is brought up to believe).
Me- being a sucker for happy endings- loved it that he did not.
As the movie goes- Dharma Matigrah Udghrutah-
Dharma is what your mind tells you is right.
So is Dharma following centuries of mindless tradition?
Or is it laying down one's life (and love) for what one believes in?
Or is it just a matter of convenience?
However, I do think I would have cut off my thumb.
I nearly did, too...
But finally, my mind prevailed.
Dharma Matigrah Udghrutah...
So why do I still have this lingering sense of guilt??????????????????
I did, a few days back- and so the previous post.
"Dharma Matigrah Udghrutah" was quoted in the movie -
as THE virtuous path being that which your mind and heart says is right.
And so I had a this debate with my friend, about Dharma. He argued that the movie was a letdown, for Eklavya did not follow his Dharma in the end. The character was built up as one whose only motivation, reason for being and self-validation came from following his Dharma (in this instance, protecting the King).
Thus, when the quandary of following Dharma arises in the end- well,
Should he have killed his own son?
Should Eklavya cut off his thumb again???
According to my friend, yes, he definitely should have killed his son, and the fact that he did not takes away from the basic premise of the movie. The manner in which Eklavya was portrayed reinforces the values and sanctity of following Dharma (or at least, what one is brought up to believe).
Me- being a sucker for happy endings- loved it that he did not.
As the movie goes- Dharma Matigrah Udghrutah-
Dharma is what your mind tells you is right.
So is Dharma following centuries of mindless tradition?
Or is it laying down one's life (and love) for what one believes in?
Or is it just a matter of convenience?
However, I do think I would have cut off my thumb.
I nearly did, too...
But finally, my mind prevailed.
Dharma Matigrah Udghrutah...
So why do I still have this lingering sense of guilt??????????????????
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Dharma Matigrah Udghrutah
And so said Aristotle. He says that all human purposes aim at that highest of goals, Eudaimonia. Loosely translated as 'happiness', it can be better referred to as 'human flourishing'. So each and every action is geared to the attainment of this higher "virtue".
More importantly, this higher purpose/ aim is derived from both 'virtue' (as exemplified by courage, honesty, etc.) and knowledge (here, the knowledge of good and evil, OR, right and wrong). Aristotle adds that Eudaimonia is constituted not by honor, wealth or power, but by rational activity done with knowledge. Therefore, simple deduction leads us to infer that ethical
behavior and virtuosity lead the rational person to the best course of action, which, in turn, leads to happiness.
So we all act as rational, thinking and aware human beings, all of us pursuing the most sensible, rational, best and right course of action. And live happily ever after!
Yes, that is indeed the fairy tale it sounds like. For how many of us actually do that?
not me, for one (and so goes the story of my life :)
Are we fallible? I think so- at least I think the human race deserves the benefit of doubt :)
Herein, lies the concept of Akrasia, which is defined as "the state of acting against one's better judgement".
Why would any person ever do that? So asks anybody with a "rational" mind.
Yet we all do it, all the time.
Socrates called akrasia an "illogical concept", and attributes it to a breakdown of reasoning. However, Aristotle (again to the rescue) contends that akrasia is not a result of irrationality, but is a result of opinion. And opinion is personal, and may or may not represent the truth.
Any judgment that we make may be based in objective reason or subjective analysis. Yet the chosen path of maximum virtue may not be adhered to, ever so often.
Or it may be the conflict of reason and emotion (again, the fact that they are considered on opposite sides of the fence is dismaying).
However, I do reinforce the notion that akrasia may be very damaging for being happy- or attaining the highest purpose of eudaimonia.
Having personally experienced it, I also firmly believe in Festinger's Theory of Cognitive Dissonance. And that can lead to tremendous mental and emotional turbulence.
So maybe one should just do what one believes is right. And that remains the eternal question. What is Right?
There exist innumerable normative notions of "rightness" and yet, no two people have the same rights or wrongs.
Therefore, I do what I think is right.
"Dharma Matigrah Udghrutah:"
Dharma is what your mind tells you is right.
Dharma is what your heart tells you is right.
More importantly, this higher purpose/ aim is derived from both 'virtue' (as exemplified by courage, honesty, etc.) and knowledge (here, the knowledge of good and evil, OR, right and wrong). Aristotle adds that Eudaimonia is constituted not by honor, wealth or power, but by rational activity done with knowledge. Therefore, simple deduction leads us to infer that ethical
behavior and virtuosity lead the rational person to the best course of action, which, in turn, leads to happiness.
So we all act as rational, thinking and aware human beings, all of us pursuing the most sensible, rational, best and right course of action. And live happily ever after!
Yes, that is indeed the fairy tale it sounds like. For how many of us actually do that?
not me, for one (and so goes the story of my life :)
Are we fallible? I think so- at least I think the human race deserves the benefit of doubt :)
Herein, lies the concept of Akrasia, which is defined as "the state of acting against one's better judgement".
Why would any person ever do that? So asks anybody with a "rational" mind.
Yet we all do it, all the time.
Socrates called akrasia an "illogical concept", and attributes it to a breakdown of reasoning. However, Aristotle (again to the rescue) contends that akrasia is not a result of irrationality, but is a result of opinion. And opinion is personal, and may or may not represent the truth.
Any judgment that we make may be based in objective reason or subjective analysis. Yet the chosen path of maximum virtue may not be adhered to, ever so often.
Or it may be the conflict of reason and emotion (again, the fact that they are considered on opposite sides of the fence is dismaying).
However, I do reinforce the notion that akrasia may be very damaging for being happy- or attaining the highest purpose of eudaimonia.
Having personally experienced it, I also firmly believe in Festinger's Theory of Cognitive Dissonance. And that can lead to tremendous mental and emotional turbulence.
So maybe one should just do what one believes is right. And that remains the eternal question. What is Right?
There exist innumerable normative notions of "rightness" and yet, no two people have the same rights or wrongs.
Therefore, I do what I think is right.
"Dharma Matigrah Udghrutah:"
Dharma is what your mind tells you is right.
Dharma is what your heart tells you is right.
Monday, July 17, 2006
Catharsis
Maybe I just can't live the lie.
Maybe that is not me.
A resurgence, a revival, yet more pain... or mere pain...
Will I let this endless eternal pain kill me?
Or will I aceept - like most of us do- and live with it forever- mute, silent, suffering?
Will this be the only place in the world where my tears will coalesce and take the form of comprehensible (or maybe not) prose?
We all live with our private hells within us- yup, I read that awfully cliched line when I must have been 14... and have never forgotten it... yet never felt its truth till these last few days...
Yes, I know now- I have to endure silently, accept, be quiet, never talk-
For the pain will never go... but just go on.........
To ask the most oft-repeated question in the world- why me, God?
Was I singularly hand-picked for this?
This slow gradual everlasting pain....................
I' m sick of crying..and yet the tears do not stop...
Maybe just one bout of tears.... and catharsis
But nothing seems to wash away the grief
Maybe that is not me.
A resurgence, a revival, yet more pain... or mere pain...
Will I let this endless eternal pain kill me?
Or will I aceept - like most of us do- and live with it forever- mute, silent, suffering?
Will this be the only place in the world where my tears will coalesce and take the form of comprehensible (or maybe not) prose?
We all live with our private hells within us- yup, I read that awfully cliched line when I must have been 14... and have never forgotten it... yet never felt its truth till these last few days...
Yes, I know now- I have to endure silently, accept, be quiet, never talk-
For the pain will never go... but just go on.........
To ask the most oft-repeated question in the world- why me, God?
Was I singularly hand-picked for this?
This slow gradual everlasting pain....................
I' m sick of crying..and yet the tears do not stop...
Maybe just one bout of tears.... and catharsis
But nothing seems to wash away the grief
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Epiphany or A Sign from God?
Its a day to celebrate :)
I just had an epiphany.
Crazy how life sends you the answers (or at least the right questions) when you are,
oh, sooooo clueless. No, not crazy, just wonderful. Or am I being fanciful again :)
I was reading this total chick-lit book today, and the heroine was in EXACTLY the same dilemma as me.
God- she even asked the same questions. Had the same doubts.
Said the same things. She even used the same words that had been in my mind.
She found her answers (read the excerpt below).
Atleast I know my questions now... even if I don't have any answers yet.
I have never written stuff on this blog which I have read elsewhere- usually its this total personal rant, and I guess I am never at a loss for words when it comes to my endless sorrows ;)
But here goes- a long excerpt from this book- (edited to suit)
which still makes me cry even when I read it for the zillionth time.
I really have to write this here. It could be me writing this- only the author said it better ;)
ok, Acknowledgements first-
The book is called "Girls' Poker Night" by Jill A. Davis
NEED TO KNOW
"Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage." Anais Nin wrote that, not me. I think she was right- happy endings are not for cowards.
You don't need to know any of this. But the things I don't reveal are the things I hold closest and fear losing the most. I work overtime keeping them veiled and camouflaged. You don't need to know that I walk around all day fearing the things that make me happy, and that I have been doing that for my entire life.
You don't need to know that I run away from my problems. I pack up and move. I get out of Dodge before I care too much, before I risk too much.
You don't need to know that I am the world's worst poker player. I feel too bad about lying and losing.
You don't need to know that growing up has come late to me. I'm the last one at the party. But at least I've shown up.
You don't need to know that when someone confides in me, I feel needed. Unless I don't like what I'm being told. Then I give up on you. No matter how you might have changed. No matter how repentant you are. No matter how much loss you feel. No matter how much like me you are. What I need is something to hold against you. Because if I don't have that, I will be crushed when you go away.
You don't need to know about the time I was sitting a few feet away from him and he said, "Shhh. . . quiet." And I said, "What?" And he said, "I can hear your heart murmur from over here. Turn it down a notch, would ya?"
You don't need to know about the note he left me. How it was unfolded on my chair, waiting for me late one night.
You don't need to know that I kept that stupid note in the pocket of my backpack for a month. To see if it meant something. To see if there were clues about us.
I just had an epiphany.
Crazy how life sends you the answers (or at least the right questions) when you are,
oh, sooooo clueless. No, not crazy, just wonderful. Or am I being fanciful again :)
I was reading this total chick-lit book today, and the heroine was in EXACTLY the same dilemma as me.
God- she even asked the same questions. Had the same doubts.
Said the same things. She even used the same words that had been in my mind.
She found her answers (read the excerpt below).
Atleast I know my questions now... even if I don't have any answers yet.
I have never written stuff on this blog which I have read elsewhere- usually its this total personal rant, and I guess I am never at a loss for words when it comes to my endless sorrows ;)
But here goes- a long excerpt from this book- (edited to suit)
which still makes me cry even when I read it for the zillionth time.
I really have to write this here. It could be me writing this- only the author said it better ;)
ok, Acknowledgements first-
The book is called "Girls' Poker Night" by Jill A. Davis
NEED TO KNOW
"Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage." Anais Nin wrote that, not me. I think she was right- happy endings are not for cowards.
You don't need to know any of this. But the things I don't reveal are the things I hold closest and fear losing the most. I work overtime keeping them veiled and camouflaged. You don't need to know that I walk around all day fearing the things that make me happy, and that I have been doing that for my entire life.
You don't need to know that I run away from my problems. I pack up and move. I get out of Dodge before I care too much, before I risk too much.
You don't need to know that I am the world's worst poker player. I feel too bad about lying and losing.
You don't need to know that growing up has come late to me. I'm the last one at the party. But at least I've shown up.
You don't need to know that when someone confides in me, I feel needed. Unless I don't like what I'm being told. Then I give up on you. No matter how you might have changed. No matter how repentant you are. No matter how much loss you feel. No matter how much like me you are. What I need is something to hold against you. Because if I don't have that, I will be crushed when you go away.
You don't need to know about the time I was sitting a few feet away from him and he said, "Shhh. . . quiet." And I said, "What?" And he said, "I can hear your heart murmur from over here. Turn it down a notch, would ya?"
You don't need to know about the note he left me. How it was unfolded on my chair, waiting for me late one night.
You don't need to know that I kept that stupid note in the pocket of my backpack for a month. To see if it meant something. To see if there were clues about us.
You don't need to know that I'm telling myself to stay when I feel like leaving. Because leaving is easy, and staying takes work. But in the midst of the work, I might lose some of my fear.
You don't need to know that up until I met him, my life's goal was self-preservation. And that when I met him, self-preservation felt genuinely lonely.
When you run into love and it seems like some psychedelic mystery, look at it again, and again, and keep looking at it until you realize the only mystery is how you've gotten by so long without it.
You really, really don't need to know about the kiss on the elevator. But it was nice, and his coat felt new. And when I think about that- I'm filled with regret for not telling him everything he didn't need to know but should have known.
You don't need to know that up until I met him, my life's goal was self-preservation. And that when I met him, self-preservation felt genuinely lonely.
When you run into love and it seems like some psychedelic mystery, look at it again, and again, and keep looking at it until you realize the only mystery is how you've gotten by so long without it.
You really, really don't need to know about the kiss on the elevator. But it was nice, and his coat felt new. And when I think about that- I'm filled with regret for not telling him everything he didn't need to know but should have known.
Permanent Denial versus Progress
Yes, the pain does get better.
But how?
Is it simply because I refuse to acknowledge its existence any longer?
Am I running away... running away from facing up to my screwed up existence, and trying to find answers-
Okay, so the last few rants have been about the never ending pain- and have i progressed :)
Going out, incessant partying, dinner, people, people, people-
Just don't leave me alone with myself anymore
Anything to stop the thinking
Should I lie on the couch and read a book, or should I confront my personal demons?
You get the point.
And I have realized that it is easy. Frighteningly so.
Its very easy to accept to reject the pain. The horror.
Its very easy to live the lie.
But how?
Is it simply because I refuse to acknowledge its existence any longer?
Am I running away... running away from facing up to my screwed up existence, and trying to find answers-
Okay, so the last few rants have been about the never ending pain- and have i progressed :)
Going out, incessant partying, dinner, people, people, people-
Just don't leave me alone with myself anymore
Anything to stop the thinking
Should I lie on the couch and read a book, or should I confront my personal demons?
You get the point.
And I have realized that it is easy. Frighteningly so.
Its very easy to accept to reject the pain. The horror.
Its very easy to live the lie.
Monday, June 19, 2006
Duvidha
Duvidha,
Dilemma,
Kashmakash...
Life- a maze of alternatives. Choices at every step.
And my futile attempts to find the right path.
How do I know what to do?
Filled with conflict, hate, love...
So what choice do I make?
Only the light of goodness to show my path...
fading under the strain of compromise.
Is there a right way?
Is there a way out?
Do I even want a way out?
There are no answers...
Just a lot of bleak black sorrow
There are actually no tomorrows left.
I can only wonder...
Does the pain ever stop?????
Dilemma,
Kashmakash...
Life- a maze of alternatives. Choices at every step.
And my futile attempts to find the right path.
How do I know what to do?
Filled with conflict, hate, love...
So what choice do I make?
Only the light of goodness to show my path...
fading under the strain of compromise.
Is there a right way?
Is there a way out?
Do I even want a way out?
There are no answers...
Just a lot of bleak black sorrow
There are actually no tomorrows left.
I can only wonder...
Does the pain ever stop?????
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Honesty
All of us, as women, and individuals, have to make so many choices in life...
and at every step, it is only what we honestly believe in that is worth choosing and pursuing.
It is but one life, and we owe it to ourselves to do the best we can and not compromise..
which is something I did.
And I can never forgive myself for it.
and at every step, it is only what we honestly believe in that is worth choosing and pursuing.
It is but one life, and we owe it to ourselves to do the best we can and not compromise..
which is something I did.
And I can never forgive myself for it.
Sorry I Murdered Myself
Kismat...Jo likha thha wo ho gaya..wo kiya maine.
Maine hi kiya- ya khud ho gaya?Kya mere bas me thha..
aaj hazaar khayal aate hain- ki mai rok leti, badal deti apni kismat...
Shayad mere hi haathon se mere apne zameer ka khoon likha thha...
Haan- maine hi kiya, mujhse hi hua hai katl-
aur kisi ko kya dosh doon jab maine khud apni awaaz nahi suni
Mai chillati rahi, par maine khud hi apna gala ghot diya
chup kara diya sachchai ko
Jab mai hi sachchai ke liye nahi lad saki
to aur kisi ko kya dosh doon..
Jab maine hi buraai ka saath diya...
maine hi to galti ki
Mera to zameer thha - maar daala
yun hi khoon kar diya
aur usko maarkar mai jee sakti hoon kya...
har pal aatm-hatya
har pal ek maut
haan- mai to har pal ek maut jee rahi hoon
Kitne dinon se zindagi me dard ka ehsaas nahi thha
ab aisa dard hai ki aur kuchh nahi raha
na zindagi, na ehsaas
bas ek besahara, laachaar si zindagi
jo kisi bhi maut se kahin buri hai
jab khud apna vishwaas tod diya-
to kisi se kya gila
jab khud se sachchai nahi ki
to aur kisi se kya ummeed
haan- mere hi to haathon mera khoon hua hai...
Maine hi kiya- ya khud ho gaya?Kya mere bas me thha..
aaj hazaar khayal aate hain- ki mai rok leti, badal deti apni kismat...
Shayad mere hi haathon se mere apne zameer ka khoon likha thha...
Haan- maine hi kiya, mujhse hi hua hai katl-
aur kisi ko kya dosh doon jab maine khud apni awaaz nahi suni
Mai chillati rahi, par maine khud hi apna gala ghot diya
chup kara diya sachchai ko
Jab mai hi sachchai ke liye nahi lad saki
to aur kisi ko kya dosh doon..
Jab maine hi buraai ka saath diya...
maine hi to galti ki
Mera to zameer thha - maar daala
yun hi khoon kar diya
aur usko maarkar mai jee sakti hoon kya...
har pal aatm-hatya
har pal ek maut
haan- mai to har pal ek maut jee rahi hoon
Kitne dinon se zindagi me dard ka ehsaas nahi thha
ab aisa dard hai ki aur kuchh nahi raha
na zindagi, na ehsaas
bas ek besahara, laachaar si zindagi
jo kisi bhi maut se kahin buri hai
jab khud apna vishwaas tod diya-
to kisi se kya gila
jab khud se sachchai nahi ki
to aur kisi se kya ummeed
haan- mere hi to haathon mera khoon hua hai...
Monday, May 22, 2006
The Lowest Ebb
The last few days have been the lowest I have ever reached in life. Ever.
And the most painful. Ever.
So, I've been desperate earlier. And wretched. And miserable.
Yet, little did I know that there would be a blacker day. The blackest of them all. Here to stay.
This time around, there are no choices. No escape. Nothing.
Yes, I have fought. All my life I have fought.
Now, I have nothing left to fight for.
I dreamt. I believed. I had faith.
There is nothing left to believe in.
For the first time in my life, I had to clench my fists to stop myself from going and picking up a packet of sleeping pills from the drawer. I laid with my hands clenched tight to stop.
STOP!
Never needed to end my life. Now, there is no life to end.
That is why I am writing this, right now. Anything to stop me reaching up to those pills.
How long can I stop myself.
I am breaking down.
My tears have not stopped for the last three hours.
And they won't for the rest of my life.
Things can go so wrong so wrong so wrong so wrong so wrong so wrong so wrong
God, Can I please die?
Just an immensely corroded soul.
No spirit.
God, Can I please die?
And the most painful. Ever.
So, I've been desperate earlier. And wretched. And miserable.
Yet, little did I know that there would be a blacker day. The blackest of them all. Here to stay.
This time around, there are no choices. No escape. Nothing.
Yes, I have fought. All my life I have fought.
Now, I have nothing left to fight for.
I dreamt. I believed. I had faith.
There is nothing left to believe in.
For the first time in my life, I had to clench my fists to stop myself from going and picking up a packet of sleeping pills from the drawer. I laid with my hands clenched tight to stop.
STOP!
Never needed to end my life. Now, there is no life to end.
That is why I am writing this, right now. Anything to stop me reaching up to those pills.
How long can I stop myself.
I am breaking down.
My tears have not stopped for the last three hours.
And they won't for the rest of my life.
Things can go so wrong so wrong so wrong so wrong so wrong so wrong so wrong
God, Can I please die?
Just an immensely corroded soul.
No spirit.
God, Can I please die?
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Shit Happens! & Life Sucks!
Two of the most utterly true truisms I have ever come across.
And totally totally American too!!
But yes, so very true. Shit does happen to us all. And life DOES suck.
Big-time, Majorly, Royally.
Am so sick and tired. Tired of fighting. It just does not stop.
Life just keeps sending in one royal kick after another.
Am sick of getting up and fighting. And again. And again...and again.
I give up...
God, Please have mercy...I can not take these continuous setbacks anymore.
One after another after another...
Will it ever end!
Or will life just be a long painful fight... in which I have already lost!
Will the fight ever ever ever end?
Can I please stop being kicked??????????
I can't get up anymore...............................
And totally totally American too!!
But yes, so very true. Shit does happen to us all. And life DOES suck.
Big-time, Majorly, Royally.
Am so sick and tired. Tired of fighting. It just does not stop.
Life just keeps sending in one royal kick after another.
Am sick of getting up and fighting. And again. And again...and again.
I give up...
God, Please have mercy...I can not take these continuous setbacks anymore.
One after another after another...
Will it ever end!
Or will life just be a long painful fight... in which I have already lost!
Will the fight ever ever ever end?
Can I please stop being kicked??????????
I can't get up anymore...............................
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Dreams and More...
How often in life do we wonder, about our dreams and about our right to dream...
Are we justified in doing so? In holding on to our sapne even though each and every one has broken...and broken us...over these years...
Is it worth the pain and heartache? These accummulated years of dreaming? How many of us still hold on? Or give in to skepticism, cynicism and disillusionment?
It is a HUGE risk...to pursue your dreams. Because that makes you in charge of your own destiny. And, OMIGOD, who wants that responsibility...
It is the vulnerability to believe, the openness to hurt, the naive faith in goodness... or, in other words, foolishness...
It is having stars in your eyes on the deepest daarkest nights, it is believing that your cherished hopes WILL happen...and you wait, wait...wait............
There are questions and doubts, there is lingering hope... Thank God for both its Elasticity and resilience :)
When every prayer is a hope, when every breath is a dream...
and yet........
Kehte hain ki wo na khaali jayegi,
Aah jo dil se nikaali jayegi
true, or not?
Do dreams come true?
Are we justified in doing so? In holding on to our sapne even though each and every one has broken...and broken us...over these years...
Is it worth the pain and heartache? These accummulated years of dreaming? How many of us still hold on? Or give in to skepticism, cynicism and disillusionment?
It is a HUGE risk...to pursue your dreams. Because that makes you in charge of your own destiny. And, OMIGOD, who wants that responsibility...
It is the vulnerability to believe, the openness to hurt, the naive faith in goodness... or, in other words, foolishness...
It is having stars in your eyes on the deepest daarkest nights, it is believing that your cherished hopes WILL happen...and you wait, wait...wait............
There are questions and doubts, there is lingering hope... Thank God for both its Elasticity and resilience :)
When every prayer is a hope, when every breath is a dream...
and yet........
Kehte hain ki wo na khaali jayegi,
Aah jo dil se nikaali jayegi
true, or not?
Do dreams come true?
Friday, April 07, 2006
Bebasi aur Kuchh Baatein
What are those things in life that make us helpless? Laachhar. Bebas.
Out of Control?
Aisi kuchh to cheezein hain...zindagi ke kuchh aise mod, kuchh aisi pareshaaniyaan, kuchh aisi he...
jo ekdum dil se dum nichod lein (to all Harry Potter addicts, we all have our personal Dementors)
Our these reasons of our own making? How much of our own lives do we have in control? And how much do we not? And what can we do to make it so?
I have just realized that most of want makes me unhappy is so because I made it so. Not just my thinking that way- but also me doing such stuff that would contribute to problems. Maybe it is lack of foresight, maybe sheer stupidity, maybe getting carried away. Maybe just not knowing better.
But with this comes the knowledge that I can do something- Yes, learn from my mistakes. Not make the same mistakes again. Do better. Improve.
Maybe this time the desperation will be controllable. The ability to take charge of some part of my life, at least.
Responsibility-for myself. The ability to respond.
Do I have it?
Out of Control?
Aisi kuchh to cheezein hain...zindagi ke kuchh aise mod, kuchh aisi pareshaaniyaan, kuchh aisi he...
jo ekdum dil se dum nichod lein (to all Harry Potter addicts, we all have our personal Dementors)
Our these reasons of our own making? How much of our own lives do we have in control? And how much do we not? And what can we do to make it so?
I have just realized that most of want makes me unhappy is so because I made it so. Not just my thinking that way- but also me doing such stuff that would contribute to problems. Maybe it is lack of foresight, maybe sheer stupidity, maybe getting carried away. Maybe just not knowing better.
But with this comes the knowledge that I can do something- Yes, learn from my mistakes. Not make the same mistakes again. Do better. Improve.
Maybe this time the desperation will be controllable. The ability to take charge of some part of my life, at least.
Responsibility-for myself. The ability to respond.
Do I have it?
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Masochism and Hope
Kitna filmi title hai na! But the pain of waiting for a phone that never rings...
Aisa kyun hota hai..
Why can one not relegate him to the depths of hell... and get on with one's work? Kaisa intezaar, kaisi bebasi.
And the realization ki ye laachaargi is only one-sided, he isn't staring at the phone and praying for it to ring...willing it to ring...
He is NOT waiting......
Is this good...to find somebody so utterly necessary to your existence as a human being? Or bad? For the pain is self-inflicted.
Love has to be the most extreme form of masochism.
Aisa kyun hota hai..
Why can one not relegate him to the depths of hell... and get on with one's work? Kaisa intezaar, kaisi bebasi.
And the realization ki ye laachaargi is only one-sided, he isn't staring at the phone and praying for it to ring...willing it to ring...
He is NOT waiting......
Is this good...to find somebody so utterly necessary to your existence as a human being? Or bad? For the pain is self-inflicted.
Love has to be the most extreme form of masochism.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
OOOTTAFAGVSH
Oh Oh Oh...to touch and feel a girl's...
How many of us know the above famous mnemonic...to remember all the important nerves. I think I was somewhere in early grade school when I came to know of the existence of this mnemonic. AND it was only later, when I read "Doctors" that I realized its true meaning (and WORTH ;)
Interesting, huh?
How many of us know the above famous mnemonic...to remember all the important nerves. I think I was somewhere in early grade school when I came to know of the existence of this mnemonic. AND it was only later, when I read "Doctors" that I realized its true meaning (and WORTH ;)
Interesting, huh?
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Zindagi...aur kuchh sawaal
Yahaan kisi ko mukammal jahaan nahi milta,
Kabhi zameen to kabhi aasmaan nahi milta
Yunhi kuchh umeedein, kuchh bachi-khuchi aas...
aise hi saanson ke tukdon par poori zindagi tiki hui hai
Kitni nazuk, kitni laachaar...
Yunhi lagta hai...ki ik khwahish hi har sawaal ka jawaab hai,
har bebasi ka ilaaj hai...
par kya khabar ki tamannaon me tamanna chhupi hai...
aur phir zindagi ek aur khwaab par tiki, ruki...
aise hi har sawaal ka jawaab milega...ek aur sawaal, ek aur pareshaani,
yunhi har zindagi me basi rahegi, ik nayi zindagaani
shayad yahi mera jawaab hai
ki zindagi hi khwaab hai........................
Kabhi zameen to kabhi aasmaan nahi milta
Yunhi kuchh umeedein, kuchh bachi-khuchi aas...
aise hi saanson ke tukdon par poori zindagi tiki hui hai
Kitni nazuk, kitni laachaar...
Yunhi lagta hai...ki ik khwahish hi har sawaal ka jawaab hai,
har bebasi ka ilaaj hai...
par kya khabar ki tamannaon me tamanna chhupi hai...
aur phir zindagi ek aur khwaab par tiki, ruki...
aise hi har sawaal ka jawaab milega...ek aur sawaal, ek aur pareshaani,
yunhi har zindagi me basi rahegi, ik nayi zindagaani
shayad yahi mera jawaab hai
ki zindagi hi khwaab hai........................
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