Diwali Less Known

“They are coming, they are coming”, the shrieks of joy resounded in the air from outside the palace. The drums rolled and the conches called out relentlessly, belting out sounds that lifted the hearts of the kingdom’s subjects. Weeks of excited anticipation had passed and the time for unbridled celebration had finally arrived. Excited screams and shouts were heard on the streets as courtiers distributed new clothing and sweetmeats to the poor, hawkers roamed the lanes selling oil-lamps and incense with knowing grins and extra-loud voices and giggling girls crowded in street-corners only to be shooed back to their housework by their mothers. The air in the marketplace was infused with scents of fresh cardamom, clarified butter and caramelised jaggery.

While the people of Ayodhya geared themselves for feasting and festivity, upstairs in the small room of the women’s wing, Urmila forced herself to lie down on the hard bed, unable to control herself. There she lay – the petite damsel looking pale in her turmeric yellow sari draped around her thin and bony body with absolutely no jewellery adorning her except for the gold-star ring on the third finger of her right hand. Her eyes – slightly reddish reflected her childlike innocence as she blinked rapidly so as to not let any more tears flow down. Light wrinkles had made lines on her otherwise clean face but only those close to her would be able to spot them. Those away from her wouldn’t be able to see the reality of her life.

“14 years”, she said to herself. She didn’t know what emotions to display. Was she excited? Or nervous? Déjà vu. She had the same feeling 14 years 4 months ago.

The same giggling maidens, the same celebration and the same festivity had engulfed Mithila, the kingdom of King Janaka. In her chamber, beautifully adorned with antiques and mirrors, her mother looked at her. Her pretty little girl was big now. Big enough to be married off to her prince. In her mother’s eyes, she was the prettiest thing on earth.

She rubbed off the corner of her right eye and put a black little dot behind Urmila’s right ear, “May the Lord save you from the evil eye.” With tears of joy trickling down her eyes, she said, “Go my daughter, go and have a wonderful life with the prince of Ayodhya. Be the same doting daughter in your new house the way you were to us. Be with your husband, by his side, come what may.”

The blowing of the trumpets overpowered the other noises announcing the arrival of the royal family. Lakshmana had arrived to take away his bride. Walking on petals of red roses through her grand palace entrance decorated like never before, she could see the tall and lean prince standing at the end of the entrance. Dressed in wheatish-brown ensemble, he waited with a radiant smile on his face. An embodiment of beauty with her head held high but eyes lowered, she walked slowly and gracefully towards Lakshmana.

She looked at her ring, the little sparkling jewel that bonded her lord and her together. She recalled his words when he gifted the star to her. “The star is a symbol of eternity. You won’t have to look out of the balcony to look at the twinkling stars. You have one right here in your hands,” he said holding Urmila’s right hand in his. She let out a shiver. Never had a man touched her before. Yet, this felt good. “You are my beloved wife Urmi, and I promise to live for an eternity with you.”

As she lay lifelessly on her bed, tears rolled down the side of her eyes as stared at the ceiling incessantly. Her eyes burned. Her heart ached. There were too many things going on in her mind. Her 14 years of loneliness were tumbling down on her all of a sudden. Her defence system had been great all this while. She had learnt to cope with grief, loneliness and sadness. She had been exceptionally strong all this time. What happened now? Why did she feel so weak?

Vulnerable. Vulnerable was what she felt.

She blinked her eyes, letting the tears wet the bed underneath her. She exercised her brains to think about the last time when she hadn’t cried. The last time when her eyes weren’t moist. She failed to remember.

“Brother Rama is leaving for vanvas, Urmi. Sita ma is also accompanying him.”
“What? Our brother Rama? Why him? What could he have possibly done that he is exiled?”
“Urmi Urmi..calm down..settle down..Father has ordered brother to do so. Everything is baseless. It is not fair. But brother is adamant. He is leaving with bhabhi ma tomorrow morning.”
“I feel so sad for didi. I will go and sit with her. She must be uncontrollable right now.”
“Urmi, I need to tell you somethi...”
“And I think you should go and sit with bro...”
“Urmi, I am going with them!”
“.....with brother. He may need to talk to y...”, she stopped half-way. All her animated talk came to a dead still. Her hands stopped mid-air and her eyes were big as ever. Shock could be read on her face. “You are going with them?”
“Yes, my beloved. Although father is not right in sending him away, there is no point in fighting it. Brother has been like a father to me. I have grown up in his shadow. This is the time when I can repay him. Bhabhi is like my mother. I think this is the least I can do for my parents,” he said with moist eyes.
“But dev, it is 14 years! You cannot do that! It is his vanvas. Please don’t go..” she held him tightly by his elbows, her sari falling off her head.
“Urmi, please calm down. There are no two ways about this”, he said with his head lowered down, “I have come to tell you, not ask.”
“Dev, I am coming with you. How can I stay here without you? My life is yours now”, she said decidedly, wiping her tears and turning back to take off her jewellery.
“You can’t come with us. Please understand. It is a vanvas. Life is not easy there.”
She flared her nostrils. She couldn’t believe what he just said. She turned back, “I stay here for the luxuries of the palace? No, I stay here because I love you dev. I wish to come with you because I cannot think of a day without you, forget 14 years! Why can bhabhi go with brother and I can’t come with you?”
“You are acting unreasonable, Urmila”
“How else should I react? It is his vanvas, not yours. I am not asking you to stay back, am I? All I am asking is, you take me along.”
“But Urmi, life is going to be diff..”
“So it is fine with me. It is my choice. It’s my choice to live with you wherever I want. I want to go with you. Even if it is a forest, as long as I am with you, I have no qualms.”
“My duty is to take care of brother and bhabhi. If you come, it will become difficult for me to fulfill my duties and I want you to stay here”, he said banging his fist on the wooden table. “Mother will be alone, Urmi. Please take care of our home and mother. They need you.”

She still remembered the anger in his eyes. Every single sentence of the conversation ringed in her ears as if it was just yesterday. She still remembered how she pleaded and begged for him to take her too. She cried till her eyes were swollen red. That night, she lay in his arms on their bed still crying. Lakshmana, too, couldn’t control his tears.

He held her chin up and said, “Urmila, you are my wife. I have loved you truly. And I promise to be yours till my last breath. The fact that you are not coming right now with me is not because I don’t love you. I love you immensely. But the forest is not a good place. I cannot let you live there. You are made to live in joy.” He rested his head in her bosom and whispered, “Forgive me please. My dharma compels me to put my parents before my personal joy.”
All Urmila could do was whimper and swallow back her tears. Her heart ached. She wanted to scream and tear her hair off. Yet, all she could do is bend down to take her husband in her arms for one last time. She let out a silent prayer that time would stop right there and the dreaded morning would never come.
Lakshmana, too, prayed the same.

What was she feeling? She didn’t know.
She came out of her reverie as the chattering on the streets grew intensely. Urmila didn’t want to be a part of the celebration. All she wanted was someone to be part of her grief.
Her grief, which never seemed to end.

When Rama, Lakshmana and Sita left, she felt sorrow come tumbling down in her heart. The truth was that the dark clouds of despair made their permanent abode over the royal region of Ayodhya. Families were displaced. King Dashratha couldn’t bear the pain of seeing his beloved children walk away from him without even questioning his judgement. His heart gave way. Mother Kaushalya and mother Sumitra stayed confined to their chambers, away from the world, crying. They refused to eat or indulge in any of the worldly activities. Bharata and Shatrughan were thrown into adulthood in minutes. Owing to the troubled times and sudden fall of responsibilities, distance between Shatrughan and Shrutkirti increased and so did the aloofness between Bharata and Mandavi. The guilt in the minds of Bharata and Shatrughan didn’t allow them to live in joy and happiness. Bharata refused to take the throne because it wasn’t rightfully his. His conscience didn’t allow him to betray his immense love for brother Rama.

The worst affected was mother Kaikeyi. She cried and never stopped. She begged for forgiveness from king Dashratha but neither could she save his life nor could she bring back Rama nor could she bring back the sanctity of the kingdom. All she wanted was her son to rule Ayodhya. She hadn’t foreseen the other consequences. She hadn’t foreseen widowhood. She cursed herself. She was driving herself to insanity.

Days after days passed but somehow the years never seemed to end. The maidens gossiped amongst themselves wondering about Urmila’s character. “Sita devi happily left all the worldly pleasures and accompanied her lord. How selfless. But what was Urmila devi thinking by choosing to stay back in the riches of the palace?” they would giggle in their chambers. Urmila could feel those words stab her in her heart each day.

This was not the fate she had decided. “Why did I let brother Rama decide my fate?” she regretted each night in her tiny room after serving her family, selflessly, all day long. She knew it wasn’t brother Rama’s fault and that he too was suffering the loss of being away from home. She knew brother Rama had nothing to do with her present state of misery. But her anger had compromised with her rational being.

Urmila couldn’t understand who suffered the biggest loss in this drama. Was it Sita didi who had to leave all the worldly pleasures and depart to the forests after just four months of her wedding, yet with her lord by her side? Or was it she, herself who could live in the comforts of the palace with her sisters and family being one in her anguish, but without her lord for 14 unending years?

She blinked her eyes rapidly for they burnt now. As if the 14 years weren’t enough, recalling them in bits and pieces was slowly killing her. The door knocked. She silently thanked the Gods for saving her in time. The door opened and entered a frail yet sturdy man. Unkempt and long hair, moist and red eyes, white dhoti, thin hands and legs. Urmila quickly adjusted her sari, wiped her tears and looked at the man in his eyes. “Who are you? Whom do you want to meet?” she demanded.
The man kept walking towards her. Confused, she moved back. When she couldn’t move anymore, she stretched out her hand to push the man behind. She yelled, “Who are you? Who let you in? Guards, guards!!” she screamed.
The man took her in his arms and pressed her against his body. It didn’t take long for Urmila to realise, “Dev, it is you? Oh good Lord!” She bent down to touch his feet. He held her up mid-way, kissed her on her forehead and said, “I have missed you Urmi. Every single day, all I could think about is how you must be doing.”
“You look so pale. Dev, I couldn’t recognise you.”
“As if you have been taking good care of yourself. Look at you, my beloved. Even if the wind blows, you will fall”, he said, holding her close to himself.

Outside, the firecrackers burst. Every house was lighted with candles and lamps. Sweet and scented smell absorbed the air. Decorated with flowers and garlands, Ayodhya was celebrating Diwali, rejoicing the return of Rama from his vanvas. Yet, all that mattered to Urmila was the return of her lord. The heavens and the earth met in the joy of their unison.

They held each other for an eternity.
Urmila’s vanvas thus ended.

Parenting – Not for the faint-hearted

My frequent meetings with newly-become parents over the last couple of months enhanced my knowledge. Until I met them, I didn’t know how challenging parenthood could be. I thought going to the dentist or driving on the Andheri Station road or simply being a teenager was more challenging. I thought it would be easy. I would just make the rules “Don’t forget to tighten your bed sheet and clean your room before leaving home” and my children would follow them “Of course mom, I will do it right away. Would you want me to clean your room too?”

However, after seeing my own parents and a score more, I choose to differ. My mother loves being a mother but she does get tired of saying the same things 5 times...every hour. All parents love their children. So do my cousins who just had an adorable baby boy. They look at him with immense joy...when he’s asleep. So much peace and calm in the house. The perfect time to have a bath, sleep, eat, read the newspapers, find the lost diapers, call up a few friends and relatives, watch mindless TV...till he opens his eyes.

It’s not easy being a parent. You have to be alert, attentive and patient. You can never get too comfortable or smug because these little ones - they keep changing, yeah! They constantly keep finding new ways to drive you up the wall. I noted down a few stages that every baby (and parent) goes through. Gathered from years of experience and unasked-for research:-

The Infant Stage: The baby’s very first few months, also known as the “Will I ever get to sleep again?” stage. These are the days and nights when you only get to see your bed, never get to be in it. After changing the inestimable diapers, cereal bottles and bottled food, you will probably find yourself crying looking at the bank statements. Perfectly normal. But from the ones into this business here’s the good word: “These are the really cheap days!”

The One: The stage where the kids learn to walk but they still like to be carried around, probably because it’s easier to wipe their nose on your t-shirt. They also learn their first words. Kudos if they are “ma” and “pa” and the not their favourite word ‘no’. All is still well till they get a sibling because then their favourite word becomes “mine!”

The Two: Here, I am not referring to the age but the two dreadful words ‘I want’. Apparently, they want everything. Whatever another child has, they will want it, even if it is chicken pox. If they don’t get, they throw tantrums – and many times, they throw other things also. A good outing for them at this stage would be to a zoo, perhaps, where they can pick a tip or two on good behaviour from the monkeys.

The Three: If you think the worst is over, lol. Now is the time they learn drawing. The little artists display their art on the wall, the fridge, the sofa, the floor and any other furniture, for that matter. By now, they stop throwing tantrums. In fact, they now get you to throw them. By now, your priorities change. You no longer want to become a millionaire or an author or an entrepreneur. You just want to remain sane.

The Four: They are over the “Its mine” and “I want” stage. Ladies and gentlemen, beware of the frightful “I am bored” stage. You hear that a good 50 times during the day. Hopscotch with a stone is Stone Age to them. After watching TV and playing with their toy bikes all day, they will look up at you with the same bored face. If you think TV is bad and you put on a DVD on your computer and make them watch that, then you are getting good at parenting. However, don’t get too comfortable. For all you know, you turn to tip-toe out of the room; you hear them scream “I’ve already watched it!”


A famous man (a father, of course) had said and I quote, “When I see teen-agers having babies, I wonder if they know what they're getting into. Have they really thought it through or are they just hoping that their children, by some miracle, will be mini versions of Mother Teresa? I wish my children would be more like Mother Teresa. I'd like to send them off to Calcutta.”

What Love is.....not!

My 12 year old friend ‘fell in love’. She thought he was her everything and in her dreams, even got married to him. Love obviously wasn’t what they felt. Her heart broke. Crying continuously for days and then dipping her face into foundation to cover the dark circles became routine for her. When she wasn’t doing either of the two, she would call me and ask me what love was (ya right! Like I am a walking thesaurus!)

My thinking buds were awakened. After thinking a lot and a little more, I realised that I, too didn’t know what love was. But I had a faint idea of what love was not!

Love is not ‘never having to say sorry’. It’s quite the opposite. It means learning to say you are sorry when you are wrong (if you are a man, then even when you are right!) It’s not romantic candlelight dinners because candles leave many messy blobs on expensive tablecloth. It also isn’t automatically eternal as wise men have claimed. In fact, to make it last, one will have to put in a great deal of work, not in bed, but in utterly unromantic places such as kitchens and bathrooms.

Love is not what makes the world go round. That’s gravity. If you are getting dizzy spells, do not mistake yourself to be in love. Just consult a neurologist.

It’s also not what we see in the movies. In reel life, there are songs and dances after which the hard work, complications and messy bits start surfacing before they are magically solved. In real life, however, these complications do not disappear. They tend to generally get tougher and messier.

Love is not canoodling on the sea-face rocks. That’s hormones. And the moral police. Cheap thrills can be exciting, yes, but they can also be expensive. Because if the constable doesn’t get you, the rising tide might.

What I know is that love is wonderful. It may not be the hottest thing around, but it is warm. It is not something as exotic as passion but something as ordinary as caring and as boring as respect. It also involves a good usage of the heart and the head (yes, both! It can be demanding, you know!)

Love is not about diamonds but it is about what the diamonds signify. They start as a lump of coal, but require loads of time and energy and lots of cuts and bruises to bring out the sparkle. Love actually is like that only.

On contemplation, understanding rocket science or solving the Kashmir problem would have been easier.

The New Essential

Swimming hasn’t been one of my strongest points ever. But I could always move around well, so well that I would often hear motivating words from my family like “Good job, Priyam”, “Way to go girl, you can stop clinging on to the float. You have one tied to your waist already!” and “You are almost ready to get out of the kids’ pool”

I think the most important thing to do once you are in water is to float. And I can do that very well. For hours. If there’s no hole in my raft.

As I watch the news, especially during the monsoons, I realise that swimming is a vital skill. There’s a case of drowning every alternate day. Some fall out of the boats, some get caught in the floods, some fisherman sadly get trapped in the sea-storm and some get drunk and think their cars are submarines.

Every year, we have the monsoons and every year we are hit by massive floods. Swimming is the ‘in’ thing. You don’t need to join classes for practice. In some parts of Mumbai like Kalina or Juhu, you just need to step out of your house and wait for the rain. I don’t proclaim that this skill will always prevent you from drowning, but the risk sure is cut down.

Flooding is no longer a novelty in India and I speak for Mumbai. Come June, all the men in Juhu area start wrapping up their television sets and the women start assembling the chairs on the table while the children pack up their toys and video games for an emergency exit. But sometimes we are lucky. The water only reaches the shoulder level and it’s possible to walk to a higher ground carrying the TV set on our head. In other cases, the water is pretty high and we find ourselves perched on a tree top desperately looking out for the most popular guy around – the one with the boat.

Therefore, my tip for the day - practise swimming. Sharpen your skill. Or you are going down. Literally.

Thank God for subtlety!

One of my very dear friends changed his relationship status from 'committed' to 'single'. (Yes, on Facebook, where else?!) Soon he was hoarded with comments filling up the first three-quarters of his profile page.

“Aww... its ok”
“Don’t worry; this phase will also pass”
“Cheer up dude, u nice guy, u will get someone again very soon: )”
“Too bad...I wil give ya a ring, we’ll talk”
“Oye buddy, I m sure u'll need a drink to get over it. Enigma? Tonight? Buzz me”
“No problem, u lost one..u will get many more..cheerz”

Philosophy seems to be falling out of the sky all of a sudden. (I mean, c’mon, Facebookers.....philosophy....like ya right!) So anyway, all feedback in some way or the other shrieked out “Get a life sucker. Accept it that you are a loser, stop sulking so we can go and make other ‘single’ people feel miserable.”

Thank God for subtlety!

Since when did ‘being single’ become a sad phenomenon? Exactly when did it start meaning “A fire jet just hit my ass. I am burnt and devastated. Come, console me”? Does ‘committed’, ‘in a relationship’ or ‘seeing someone’ guarantee happiness? Or the fire jet to hit your rear?

Whatever happened to

“Congrats babe, let's celebrate with a drink or 5. You made the right choice!” or
“Welcome to singledom. Now you don’t need to take your laptop inside the blanket to watch football!”

What happened to celebrating the choices we make in life?

The Case of Missing Identity

"Your friends rule your life"
– That’s one of the headlines I read in the Sunday Times of India.

Intrigued, I read more. The research says that “who you are, how you feel and what you do, all of it depends a great deal on whom you are friends with. They determine how happy you are, what your weight is, how faithful you are to your spouse and how moral or immoral you act generally.”
I agree with it one hundred percent (whether it’s true or not, I don’t know but I agree, yes) Our happiness does depend on our friends. Not on how loving and supportive they are. Not on their levels of understanding and empathy. Our happiness depends on how much money they have. If they have less than us, then we are happier than we would ideally be if they had more money than us.

I know it isn’t exactly rocket science. But it’s nice to have some evidence to back you up what you have intuitively felt for years :)

No matter how rich or successful we have become, it is still not enough if our friends are richer and more successful. It doesn’t matter how much money we make; there will always be a niggling feeling of dissatisfaction if our friends have a higher disposable income than ours.
Sad but true.
But then, how could it possibly be otherwise? Peer pressure being what it is, all of us measure our success by the successes (and failures) of our friends. And as long as we are doing a tad better than them, we feel good about ourselves. After all, its all relative (and about relatives), right?

Friends provide a baseline for all sorts of comparisons. They influence our thinking, shape our lives, hell, they even determine our shapes.

If our friends are into healthy eating and exercising, we will probably be shamed into doing the same. Nobody wants to be the only blimp in a group of thin people. Likewise, if they gorge on vast quantities of fast food while slumped on the sofa in front of the TV, then we will also feel no embarrassment in doing the same. And then before we say McDonalds, all of us will be shopping for elasticised trousers and extra large t-shirts together!

I think the logic behind this is that eating with greedy people triggers our greed impulse as well. Or maybe, we just eat more and faster before the other person finishes it off. Like how I behave when I share food with my food-inhaling brother.

Friends have a nasty knack of showing up all our flaws and imperfections. Tall friends make us feel short; short friends make us feel like pillars on the street; fair friends make us feel dark; dark friends make us feel like pale, white ghosts; fashionable friends make us feel dowdy.

This influence goes on to a deeper level in real life. The moral codes that we live by are also reinforced by the ones closest to us. If they think nothing of cheating on their spouses – if they even boast about it, then we may well be more inclined to give up on marital fidelity. If they think nothing of taking or giving bribes, of adopting corrupt practices in businesses, then it is that much harder for you to stay honest. If they routinely lie and cheat about matters big and small, then we are more likely to do so as well. After all, if everybody is doing it, can it really be so bad? (Short answer: yes, it can but that will be another post altogether!)
On the other hand, if our friend circle takes pride in being honest, in paying taxes on time, not being part of the black economy, trying to stay on the right side of the law, then we may probably stay on the straight and narrow road as well (even if it is for the fear of being socially ostracised)

The truth of the matter is that our company helps us rein in our worst impulses. Or they can encourage us to give in to our basest appetites. It all depends on what type they are.

Maybe it’s all true. Maybe it’s not. Still, that doesn’t mean that such surveys get published in the Sunday papers!

One minus Some is still One.

Loneliness and Aloneness: although similar in meaning in the dictionaries, there is a vast difference between the implications of these two words in real life.

Loneliness is a negative state of mind. Aloneness is positive. Loneliness is a state of mind when you are constantly missing the other. Aloneness is when you are constantly delighted in yourself, with yourself. Loneliness is miserable, aloneness is blissful. Loneliness is always worried, missing something, hankering for something, desiring for something. Aloneness is deep fulfilment, tremendously content, happy and celebrating.

In loneliness, you are off-centre. In aloneness you are rooted and centered. Aloneness is beautiful. It has elegance around it, a grace, a climate of tremendous satisfaction. Loneliness is beggarly, with no grace.

Loneliness is dependence. Aloneness is sheer independence.

I strongly believe that one should first come to terms with one’s own loneliness before entering into a relationship (And when I say ‘relationship’, I do not just mean boyfriend-girlfriend. EVERY relation is a relationship) This loneliness has to be transformed into aloneness. Only then will one be capable of moving into a deep enriching relationship.

Moving into a relationship to overcome loneliness means exploiting the other. The other becomes a means to satisfy you. And when you yourself can’t be enough for yourself, there’s hardly anything anyone else can do for you. You will use the other and everybody resents being used, because no man is here to become a means for anybody else. Every man is an end unto himself. Nobody is here to be used like a thing; everybody is here to be worshipped like a king. Nobody is here to fulfil anybody else’s expectations; everybody is here just to be himself.

Important to remember is that when you move from your loneliness to fall in a relationship, then that somebody will be in the same plight. Because no man who is really living his aloneness will be attracted towards you.

First become alone.

First start enjoying yourself.

First become so authentically happy that if somebody may fail to provide that happiness to you, it doesn’t matter.

Become full and overflowing yourself and then move into a relationship.

Birdy's and Buddies..Just what one needs when growing old...

A perfectly un-eventful day, Sunday, when my sister-in-law proposed that we should step out of the house and chill out for sometime. This was in an effort to escape a few uninvited guests who decided to barge into our house. We ran without wasting a nano-second, of course! : ) An hour of mindless window shopping and reading random books in Landmark, we decided to come home because not showing our faces at all would be outright rude.

We opened the door expecting to see three dropped faces and two happily talking relatives. All I could experience was 20-odd happy faces and one shocked face. Mine. And why wouldn’t I be? Who expects a surprise birthday party at 8 pm on the previous day, anyway?!

Bowls of food were passing by me. Beverages were flowing by in abundance. Cake, the delicious, yummy cake was lying on the table calling out to me to eat it up. Dessert was all well arranged-for. And all this planning happened right under my nose. I didn’t even get the slightest of hint! All planned by my sister and brother and supported by mom and dad. The planning had been on since a week and everybody had been surprisingly mum about it. My sister thought I would get a hint of it. Fortunately, I disappointed her. I was happily oblivious to all the activities happening around me. Benefits of being dumb, you see...

Over and above the obvious, I was so glad to come home to happiness, in the literal sense, that evening. Here I was, dreading another birthday, more memory lapses and more knee pains and here there were my people helping me forget all of that!

It was so overwhelming to see Sri and Saumil laughing all throughout the evening and handling all the work just so that I could enjoy my day with my friends. Sri co-ordinated everything right from the cake to the food to my friends. Though not explicitly, Saumil did everything to help Sri put everything in place. And yes, he was in charge of the pizzas (like Phoebe was in charge of the cups !!) Half an hour into the party, EVERYBODY was made aware of the fact! Mom and dad, I can’t thank them enough for everything.

Chirag took an early off from his work just to be there for me, with me. The fact that he did anything outside of the regular is more than what he can do for anybody. So I am thoroughly touched by the gesture. Thanks a ton, my dear one!

Ankit was, is and will always be a sweetheart. Never has he backed out on any plan since, dunno, can’t even count. I am sure getting that big fat gift for me must have been a tiresome chore for him. Thanks so much Ankit! : )

Kunal turned up for this! That’s reason enough to thank him. No, but seriously, you have always made it for all these random celebrations. Can’t believe I am actually calling you sweet!

Gauri, the love of my life and the photographer for the evening, has always been there for me. She’s family now. And not to forget, her umbrella has made its presence felt at every meeting. It has an identity of its own now. Thanks Gauru and Latika for travelling from another part of this world. Latika and Bishnu, so sweet of both of you to come for me with next day working. You people added to the evening’s charm. And I will never forget our little party post-party. The adventures with the bag and the balls, hilarious man!

Pranav, Anurag and Pooja were a surprise package of the evening. I least expected to see them. I guess this explains the shocked and surprised look on my face. Su aunty, uncle and Aarti were kind enough to be with us all through the evening providing us with food and chairs from time to time. Esha joined in later and hence, she got all the attention. Because by then we all were free and had nothing to do except force her to eat more. Sushma aunty and uncle came at half-time but they came. And that’s all that matters.

The icing on the cake was the maid. Seeing her at the end of the party was more like a birthday present to mom and Sri!

When all I could see, was people enjoying and chatting amongst themselves and the triumphant look on my family’s face, I just knew that I am the luckiest girl on earth. When I can confidently know that I have even 10 people whom I can count on at any time of the day, any day of the year to be by my side for whatever, whatsoever, I really feel bloated with joy. And in my mind, I let off a sneer to all those who have 1000 friends on Facebook! My army of 10 is enough.

The only problem I faced that evening was when I had to blow the candle on my cake. I didn’t have anything to wish for. Coz everything I ever would have wanted, needed or asked for was there in the room with me....

Second Impression still going strong...

Great creativity comes out great the first time. The myth is that it cannot be re-created the second time - by others as well the original makers. The Zoo Zoos defy all odds.

The Zoo Zoo’s second season with the IPL’s third season has started off with a big bang and neither has it lost its charm nor its novelty factor.

The ‘Star of the Match’ ad looks similar to its own ad from the first season. And the jungle laugh ad (the one about ‘Monthly Jokes’) with one Zoo Zoo in a cauldron is hardly funny (At least to me, in case I offend a certain lot!) Then again, when it comes to Vodafone and its Zoo Zoos, bad ads are more an exception than a rule.

Save the trees and ‘Switch to E-bill’ is a two-in-one where they convey a message along with selling its services. Innovative for sure! ‘Learn a New English word daily’ is cute with the alien and the so-not-scary tiger. The one with the thief (‘Know what’s happening around you’) is very nicely depicted although I have to admit that the Zoo Zoos cannot look dangerous and notorious. They are just too cute for that!

The ‘YouTube on Vodafone’ ad is witty! What is striking here is the fact that every connection offers this service. Yet, Vodafone has marketed the service very beautifully. Zoo Zoo on the trampoline landing up in a cage next to the tiger is hilarious. And the tagline after that is even better – ‘Like playing games?’ Brilliant marketing. Last but not the least, the one with ‘Job Alerts’ is very funny and true. People who are looking for jobs (wink wink) will surely empathise with the ad.

Disclaimer: None of these ads makes me want to go in for any of the mentioned services. They are humorous and intelligent. I appreciate it, and the story ends there.

Let's Talk...

I have always been fond of Airtel advertisements whether it be the R. Madhavan and Vidya Balan ones or the two little boys playing a game of balls across the borders or the A. R. Rehman jingle ad. They are short, crisp and meaningful. What I particularly like about Airtel ads is that they don’t promote their services but they promote a meaningful message.

The latest to join the league is Sharman Joshi with his light-hearted series promoting “baat karne se hi baat badhti hai”. It couldn’t get more realistic than this.

I tend to take things from good to bad if I give an answer to my mother in a 'yes' or 'no' because I am too involved in my laptop. Good friends become best friends only when you talk to them. More and more.

Talking always helps. It helps de-stress yourself. It makes the other person feel important. It helps get other and better perspectives from minds that don’t think like you. It helps make relationships. And that’s precisely what Airtel is telling us...um...selling to us..

Unfortunately, that won’t make me change my connection from Vodafone to Airtel! :)

Weirdos

I know there is a little too much on superstitions but there’s just so much to read up on this topic that I think it’s extremely necessary to share it will all. (And frankly, since I have done so much research on it, I don’t want to let it go waste ;)) Check out the weird ones that people actually believe!

· It is bad luck to chase someone with a broom
· While entering a car, enter with your right leg for good luck (How is it possible in India with right-hand driving??)
· Never give an empty wallet, because if you do, it will be empty forever
· If you secretly put your toe-nail clippings in a glass of lemonade and make someone drink it, then that person will fall in love with you
· A sailor wearing an earring cannot drown
· Animals can talk at midnight on Christmas Eve
· It is unlucky to rock an empty rocking chair
· Lighting three cigarettes with the same matchstick brings bad luck
· Babies born at night will stay awake at night
· A baby born with teeth could be a vampire
· Dream of fish and someone you know is pregnant
· If a dead person's eyes are left open, he'll find someone to take with him
· If a pregnant woman is mad at someone, her baby will end up looking like the person she's mad at
· If you dream of death it's a sign of a birth, if you dream of birth, it's a sign of death
· If 3 people are photographed together, the one in the middle will die first
· The spouse who goes to sleep first on the wedding day will be the first to die
· Cutting your nails on a Friday brings bad luck
· Getting out of bed left foot first brings good luck
· You can't sneeze an odd number of times and then leave the house; it’s bad luck
· Lizard falling on head is bad luck
And there is a superstition about superstitions too!!
· If you believe in a superstition, it will always follow you (Finally, something that makes sense!)

The Other Man

A simplistic story about marriage, love, trust and betrayal, The Other Man is about Peter and Lisa. They are happily married, or so it seems, with a daughter big enough to be wed herself. Still in love with each other, Lisa throws uncomfortable questions at Peter over a dinner conversation about the possibility of love coming from a person other than your spouse. Should one go for it? And if already gone for it, what awaits?

As the movie unfolds, Lisa apparently disappears and Peter comes across startling discoveries. His wife had been having an affair. Trips to Milan for fashion weeks and dress rehearsals were her excuses to meet her lover, Ralph.

12 years. She had been in love with two men - her husband as well as her lover for 12 long years. Guilt occasionally knocked her door. When it did, she hugged her husband tight and reminded him of the fact that she loved him a lot. Guilt eventually gave up.

People sure can be gullible. No, in fact people are not gullible. But the ones in love are.

Not once did Peter suspect his wife of betraying him. He loved her truly and believed that his wife too loved him and him alone. When one is in love, he lets down all his defence mechanisms and surrenders to that one person whom he loves so dearly. And when that one person breaks his trust, it is ever so difficult to come to terms with reality.

The way Peter couldn’t...

Beliefs couldn't get weirder...

My interest in random topics brought some facts to light. To be frank, it’s my fear which forced me to delve into this. I believe in superstitions without actually knowing how and why they exist?! So, this post is only and only a favour to myself :)

Why do we touch wood after mentioning good fortune? (So for me!!!)
Belief holds that spirits reside in trees (wood) and hence, if you say something good, you quickly touch wood so you are remembering and acknowledging them and also calling to them for protection against ill-fortune.
If wood is not to be found, you can touch your own head. (I do it but that’s self-deprecating!) And if nothing can be done, just saying touch wood is also sufficient.

Why shouldn’t we open an umbrella indoors?
Umbrellas are used for protection from the sun and rain. So if you open them inside, you are apparently annoying the sun-god and the rain-god. And hence, bad luck will chase you.
There are variations. Bad luck comes only if you open an unused umbrella inside the house for the first time. So if you bring a wet umbrella inside the house and open it for drying, it is not bad.
Dropping an umbrella on the floor means someone in the house will be murdered.

Why should we hold our breath when we go past a cemetery?
The strong belief is that with each breath, you will be inhaling evil spirits hovering in the air. Another story is that you are alive and breathing so you are making the dead jealous!

Why do we bless someone who sneezes?
Belief says that when you sneeze, the soul briefly moves out of the body which means that an evil spirit can take residence within you. So the next time you sneeze, cover your mouth, so that you tuck your own spirit back into you.

Wow! I feel enlightened. Amused and confused as before, maybe more, but enlightened.

Mind Games

“I have got to stop being superstitious”, is what I have been telling myself for the past one year...without any result of course.

I have a fear of sharing anything good that’s happened to me or my loved ones because I know I am jinxing it. I know that THAT happiness will not last long, now that I have told it to someone else. It’s almost as if it’s a crime to be happy and even worse, let people know about it! As if the devils have called for a conference to ruin my joy. If I have a plan of getting up early in the morning at 6 o’clock for jogging and have told a friend about it, it turns out, by default that I cannot get up the next day! As mundane as it sounds, it has always happened to me! Never has my superstitious belief failed me. So I touch wood to avert the tragedy. Don't know if that helps or no.

The other superstitions, although I don’t believe in them, I am scared to take up the challenge! Just to prove my point, I will neither cross the path that a black cat has passed nor allow somebody to step over me fearing that my vertical growth will be stunted.

Is it really true? Or is it all a psychological game that the universe plays with us? Or is it our mind playing the game with us?

I don’t think that it is harmful to believe in superstitions but I have this urgent need to overcome my fears. Fears like this that I, myself am generating.

‘How’ is the question. Any answers?

A Desperate Letter......

Not-so-dear social networking sites,

I am not in the brightest of my mood...or anywhere close either.

Let me start by saying that there have been times when I have loved someone. Sometimes, I have a reason to fall in love, sometimes I don’t. For you, I feel otherwise. And I have tons of reasons for my feelings. Could you wait for a minute while I arrange the reasons as per its priority? No? A minute is enough for a system overload and for your system to crash and not function? Oh ok, I will try to get it done in less than a minute.

But don’t count on me. I am not a computer. I am a human.

First off, there are just too many of you. Bigadda, Flickr, Hi5, MouthShut, MySpace, Twitter and WAYN – what are you all upto? When are you going to realise that you have hardly a thing or two different from the other? And that humans are not foolish enough to register on all the sites just because you are marketing the one unique factor that you have? Orkut, you were one of the first babies, but clearly, you are becoming old and outdated with your siblings running past you. You need to step out of the race. Facebook and Twitter are the undisputed rulers right now. We, being humans, understood that. How come, you didn’t?

Wait a minute. Humans ARE registering on all of the sites. Silly me. My apologies.

Twitter. Awesome concept of 160 characters short messages online. Whoever thought of this must be a real bored fellow. No offense, but I really do mean it. All great ideas are results of boredom. Thanks to you twitter, I now know when my ‘follower’ in Russia broke up with her boyfriend. I also know why Abhishek Bachchan had a bad day at his shoot. My neighbour just updated me that she had her bath. Oh, and now I know that my blood brother (who lives in the same house as me) had an awesome time in Goa.

One of my classmates said, on the phone, that she hadn’t started her project. 15 minutes later, when I log in to my Twitter, she announced she was half way through. Twitter, thanks for helping me catch my two-faced friends.

Facebook. What a wonder you are. I will probably not be astonished when I see a yellow crow. But you...you amaze me every single time. No, I am not kidding. I am totally hooked on to you. And I am just one among the zillion others who love you, adore you, worship you.

My mornings start with you. My nights end with you. Whenever I click photographs, I keep you in mind. After all, they need to be good enough to be uploaded on you. I sometimes even fall asleep on the keyboard. Whatever happened to boyfriend’s shoulders or mother’s lap! Well, they are passé.

I have even learnt to use my left hand for different purposes. Before you imagine, let me specify – I can write, eat, sms and flip the channels on TV with the remote control. Because my right hand is moving the mouse and typing on the keyboard na.

All ambidextrous and multi-tasking folks, let's have a round of applause to Facebook and the gang.

I have a good 500 to 800 friends on my friends list. I am this super-intelligent personality who loves reading only the top novels in the world. Also, I have great political views. I hate hypocrisy and liars. I watch the best of shows on television most of which are English (some of which I copied from my friends’ profiles). You have given me a new personality, Facebook. Thanks. For with the personality that I really have, nobody would have given me a second look.

You are also kind enough to tell the world when I am single and ready to mingle. Thanks for making me a hot number on the dating scene.

But yes, you are responsible for a few fights too.

One of my friends in the real world hasn’t added me as his friend in the virtual world. He is afraid I will see his pictures and his chats with his other friends. Another shouted at me the other day because I hadn’t commented on her status update. Mind you, we were on the phone that time. I had called her to say that I missed her as it was a week that we last spoke. Before you were born, she appreciated my calls. Now....alas : (

Another friend - he said that he was very busy with his work. When I was harmlessly surfing my account, I checked out his profile and there were pictures of him....in a disc...partying! Yet another, someone who has a soft corner for me, blasted on me because apparently I have more guy friends on my list than girl friends (dude, aren’t you happy, I am straight?!) and then there is this one, whom I have a soft corner for, chats day in and day out with all his virtual friends but doesn’t have the time to call me for a minute in the day. He says he is busy. Well, yeah! Certainly, he is!

You also bring out this weird behaviour in people. Friends, who generally never hug me or kiss me in public when we meet, send me hugs and kisses online! It is flattering, ya, but what am I supposed to do now?

I know you want to make life easy. I know your intentions are good. But for me, it’s turning complex.

I want to 'talk' to my loved ones. I want to guess whether they have a cold or no by hearing their voices. I want them to 'sing' a song for me before going to sleep when I need pampering. I want them to come to my house and give me an invitation card. I want to be a part of their lives. I want to cuddle up with a ‘real’ puppy.

I don’t want to know when they are going to pee. I don’t want them to dedicate songs to me on the World Wide Web. I don’t want them to be so busy building up a network of strangers and in the process forget friends. I don’t want to feed my virtual cow.

I am grateful to you, because now people do not drop in to my house at any random hour. They would rather say a ‘hi’ on any of your sites.

I am not technologically challenged. Nor do I have anything against you personally.

However, I want a simple, primitive life where people used to be in contact either on telephone or in person.

Help us. Don’t rule us.

Solve our problems. Don’t create new ones.

Yours,
Starved for human contact

The Story of a Poem

The first few lines came out easily on paper
"The teardrop on my lashes still remains
As memories invade my mind again
I remember the lonely night of July when the rains blessed the city
When you and I came close under the blue umbrella
When you put your hand on my left shoulder
I fell warm and shivered in wonder; you thought I was catching a fever
I was for sure! The fever of love"

What would follow next, thought Anuradha. As she thought, she could hear her two mini tarzans rumbling down the stairs. Yes, it was time for school. She slid the paper behind the cooker and packed their tiffin boxes, stuffed them into their school bags, kissed them on the cheeks and waved them goodbye. She had to do a million other chores still. She had to put the clothes for washing, the new maid would be coming, she had to play host to her new neighbours who had moved in last week and put the messy house back into order. And she had to do all of it by the time her husband and children would be back.

The poem could wait.
~~~
Samarth waited at the bus stand as he wiped the sweat off his forehead. Global warming was indeed a reality; he shook his head in disappointment. He didn’t want to wait, firstly because he wasn’t used to travelling in public transportation and secondly because he had no idea of the frequency of the bus. Usually, he would have taken the kids to school on his bike but that morning, the bike refused to budge. He dropped the kids in an auto-rickshaw and here he was, waiting at the bus stand.

Two women, on the uglier side of beauty, were busy in their conversation. Samarth had no job in the world as he waited for the bus, so he didn’t mind letting their talks fall on his ears.
Woman 1: What’s that book you are reading? Oh, its The Burning Desire?! That author is so very repetitive.
Woman 2: I couldn’t agree more. But I know for a fact that what people go through in their lives reflects in their writing. This author is definitely very unhappy with her own husband and hence, is involved in an extra-marital affair.
Woman 1: (giggling) Bang on Suman! You just robbed my thoughts! The other day, I told my husband the same. Poor woman, don’t know whether to sympa...

As they continued analysing the story behind the text, Samarth smiled to himself feeling relieved that his wife was not a writer. Or else, the readers’ curiosity would have chased them into the bedroom as well. Amidst the smile, what was also visible was pride. He was proud of himself for having opted for an unambitious, simple, fairly educated, obedient and unemployed girl for marriage. He loved his better-half. She was all that he had ever asked for in a wife.
He thanked the stars for saving him from being the husband of a writer.

The bus finally arrived. It was time to do some work now.
~~~
Anuradha settled down in her favourite chair. The chair had some magic, it helped her clear her mind and think better. Now that she was done with her work, she thought hard for the rest of her poem. I am suffering from the writer’s block, she chuckled. She liked referring to herself as a writer.

She reached for the telephone and with trembling hands, dialled a familiar number. The phone rang on the other end. Suddenly, it stopped ringing. A male’s voice distinctly resounded, “Hello?” Anuradha’s face shrank as if her heart was just about to break. The voice sounded irritated, “Who is this? Why do you call up so often and not speak? How will I know who you are unless you spe..”, Anuradha sat trembling in her chair. Before he could complete the sentence, she had replaced the receiver.

Her pulse rates settled down after a while, her face regained its normal colour, she picked up the paper again, held her pen and added a few more lines to her incomplete thoughts.
"The rains still bring back those times spent with you
The blue umbrella is not to be seen but the blues still remain
Though I am no longer a part of your landscape
You still are a teardrop in my lashes"
~~~
The auto-rickshaw halted with a screeching noise. Samarth and the children had arrived. Anuradha jumped from her chair, folded the paper and neatly put it along with her other written pieces under the yellow dupatta in her drawer. On locking the drawer and hooking the keys in the folds of her sari, she rushed to open the door before the doorbell rang. After all, she was the ideal wife and mother...
~~~

Heaven on Earth

Who said love happens once in a lifetime? Love happens almost everyday with almost every other person. What I feel for my mother is love. What I feel for my closest friend is love. What one feels for her puppy is love.

When you don’t feel that you are compromising for the other person, it is love. When the other person is irritating yet it doesn’t bother you, it is love. When you don’t think it is a big deal to go out of the way to help the other one out of difficulty, it is love. When the other person wakes you up at 4 in the night to vent out her frustration and you do not have the heart to shout at her, it is love. When you come back home after a long and tiring day and want to see that one single person at the door, it is love.

It is not difficult to recognise love amidst the numerous emotions that attack us through the day. No winds will blow, no flowers will spring, no colourful bubbles will float around you (if they do, you are sitting in a theatre). None of these things will happen. You just need to make a good connection with your heart. That little thing beating within you will tell you whether or not it is love. It says nothing but the truth.

Love will overpower all other emotions. All other moods.

Don’t speak of love or yearn for it if you aren’t willing to give your all for it. True love is the highest blessing any person can have from the heavens. It is all you need to make your time here on earth, heaven.

True love is one of those rare phenomena. As rare as a blue sun or maybe winter in Mumbai. When you have that someone who loves you beyond life itself, you can go through all that life has lined up for you. And life usually has a lot lined up!

In a world where people snatch, steal, sleep with other people’s love; in the corporate world where anything goes and everybody has a go at it; where sex has ravaged love; in this sticky and dirty and awful set-up, true love is something to honour and cherish.

If one is looking for true love, one first has to get the mediocre loves out of his system.

Don’t put a question mark where life has put a full stop.