It's Been So Long...

Dude, what is this?! How can this be?! 

I can understand Congo, Ghana, even Italy, but China?

My womanly Indian heart is in pieces! *sniff sniff*

Snow Clad Mountains...

I find it confusing how men and women take months and years to say those three words to the woman/man they are in a relationship with. Like really, 6 months, 1 year, 2 years and still no ata pata of "I love you"!


But you go have an arranged marriage, and lo! Your woman will confess how much she loves you, right on the first day of your honeymoon and your man will tell you he fell in love with you the very first day he saw you when you came through the kitchen with a tray of tea and biscuits in your hand.

Huh?


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A friend recently put up this status on Gtalk: "Sincerity is everything! If you learn to fake it...rest everything is easy".


And another one actually seems to be following the advice.


I wonder if it's really easy...I am sure happiness is not.


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Some days back I was travelling with two families, and one of the uncles asked us for names for their new dog. And everyone started with snowy, jenny, julie, tasha etc etc...you know the typical doggie names.


And I was about to suggest something on the similar lines and then I heard everyone and I stopped. Why do we always give Christian names to our pets?


I mean, most of them people treat their pets like their kids, so while we don't name our kids Freddie or George, or Patricia or Elizabeth, why our pets?


I think if I get a dog, I'll name him something Indian. Though I don't know what. Being the Anglophile that I am, I always thought I'd name my dog something like Shakespeare. But let's see, how does Chintu sound?


"Chintu come here!", "Chintu, jao newspaper leke aao!" and, "Chintu! Stop flirting with Betty!" Betty will obviously be the neighbour's dog who'll be eying my handsome dog.


Chintu sounds nice eh? I think till I find a new name, Chintu it is!


You know what, I think this naming business is quite fun! You should all send your dogs and kids to me for names. And I won't even charge you, promise!

Burn Those Skirts?

Some years back when I was travelling on an international flight, I was harassed by an Arab guy. When I told my friends about the incident, everyone asked me why I didn't complain to the air hostess right that minute when it happened. It might not sound like a very intelligent answer, but I was petrified. I was so shocked I could not open my mouth. I had to cry to get out of the shock once we landed and I knew I was safe in the women's loo. In hindsight yes, I should have complained. Even later when the flight had landed. But you really can't be prepared for such incidents.


Back then when I told this to S, he first got angry at me(for not complaining, no words of sympathy there) and then he asked me what I was wearing(I was wearing a rather boring black jacket over a black spaghetti top with blue jeans and pumps. Nothing too sexy). Funny thing, which I now realise, none of my girl friends asked me what I was wearing. But a guy did ask.


For those who didn't know, there was a slut walk held in Canada on April 3rd. Here's the link.

Demonstrators take part in the "Slutwalk" protest in Toronto, Sunday April 3, 2011. Protesters hit the streets to protest against rape and sexual crimes in response to Toronto Police Const. Michael Sanguinetti, quoted as saying "Women should avoid dressing like sluts in order not to be victimized."

The recent rapes in Delhi, the slut walk, and a recent conversation with a friend, reminded me of that incident on the plane. One does not necessarily have to be dressed provocatively to be molested. In a sexually charged situation, a man will jump on any woman, even a woman covered from head to toe. Or like A would say, even a man wearing a kilt with a cat. But time and again we keep hearing the same thing: dress properly, dress properly, dress properly. And I am forced to wonder, what does "dress properly" really mean?


I have thought a lot about this topic, dressing, cause it's a topic close to my heart. I love clothes. I love dressing up, always have. And when I have to think 10 times before deciding what to wear, I hate it.


Now I am an advocate of free will. Do what pleases you, as long as your choices do not harm anyone else, in any fashion. So, if some girl out there wants to dress up like a slut, by all means, she has the right to. It's her life after all, and no one should object to her choice.

But here's the thing, what do all those rights and all that freedom really amount to? I have realised, nothing.

As a 21 year old, I would have angrily told you to back off and not interfere in my life had you told me what to wear and not (which is why I never shop with guys). But as a 26 year old, and I hate that it should be this way, I understand that one can not always do as one pleases, even if one's choices do not directly affect another being. Sad huh?

One does not have to be as dramatic as this book suggests, but a woman, like it not, has to come to terms with the fact that:

"[..] a woman’s presence expresses her own attitude to herself, and defines what can and cannot be done to her."


As a woman you have to understand and realise that ultimately you and only you are in the end responsible for everything that happens to you. So if you want to wear that mini skirt, understand the responsibility you owe to yourself and realise the danger it could pose to your life, and then take the decision.


It might seem that by saying women are entirely responsible for their own safety, I am letting men off the hook. Which is not the case at all. No man, even your own husband, has the right to touch you without your explicit permission, no matter if you are sober or drunk, no matter if you are covered in a burqa or naked. But, can we really control anyone's actions and reactions? Nope. So what do we women do? We learn to assess risks and dress accordingly. In short, "dress properly." If you're going to a party with close friends to safe place, you can take that sexy number out of the closet, but you know you can not dress provocatively in a bad neighbourhood.


It is sad that even in civilized societies, supposedly safe environments like your own home, women are not safe. In an ideal world, a question like, "what to wear", would probably never arise. But lately, I have realised, that we might live in a free world but there are still invisible boundaries that we can not cross without getting hurt. So don't burn those skirts, but definitely throw away those quixotic glasses. 

Cricket Reading...

I love cricket but I'll be honest and admit that I don't know much about cricket. Oh, I know the basics, but unlike Dad, I wouldn't be able to tell you why that four wasn't good cricketing. I enjoy watching the game, like I enjoy watching football.

How many Indians really understand the game? Most of us watch the game cause India's playing.

I might not agree with everything Aaker Patel says here, but this is true: Indians, most of them atleast, love India and not the game.

Most of us will vehemently deny it but that's how we Indians are.

Part II: True enough, our commentators are horrible. Which is another reason why most of us can't tell a good shot from a bad one. Instead of providing insight into the game, we have commentators discuss celebrities and say things like, "We have two Asian teams in the finals and one Asian team will win the World Cup." Like, dude, duh?

Cricket has become more and more commercialized. Somewhere, yes, it has lost its soul to advertisers and money making companies. Let's accept that if nothing else.

I wonder if we'll ever see good cricketing after Sachin retires.

Why you should care about Cricket by Wright Thompson. 

Bleed Blue :)

India World Champions 2011 :D

Japan And The Earthquake...

Ours might be a country populated with humans, but ours is no civilization. I shudder every time I think what would have happened had it been India and not Japan. These japs, I used to call them crazy, but I now say that with utmost respect. 

A foreigner's perspective about Japan. Better be safe than sorry, Japan shows us how and why. 

Jungle Book...

So the nephew's coming over to India for a vacation and I can't wait to buy all those colourful children's books and read stories to him :)

A Pink Rose Bud...

I hope when we become parents, I hope we don't forget that we don't own our kids. We might have given them birth and raised them, but I hope we don't make the same mistake our parents did of deciding their life and dreams for them. I hope the men realise the difference between being the head of the house and a tyrant when they become fathers. I hope they remember that there is no place for ego in a family. I hope the mothers remember to speak up for what's right, even if it means going against the husband. I hope we believe in our kids dreams, and let them have their wings. I hope we don't clip their wings saying we know better. I hope we remember to let them make their own mistakes. And still accept them when they come home defeated and hurt from the battles.

I hope we don't expect our kids to repay with their dreams for the life we gave them. 

*****

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,

which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them,

but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children

as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,

and He bends you with His might

that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;

For even as He loves the arrow that flies,

so He loves also the bow that is stable.

- Khalil Gibran

Why I Hate Shahrukh Khan...

I officially hate you Shahrukh Khan! I hope KKR loses every single match in IPL4! Every single match! :|

We won't forget you Saurav Ganguly, never :( 

A Lost World...

I remember I must have been in the 6th grade and I was visiting my cousin brother, who was practising for that evening's concert. And like always, he sang for me and asked me how I liked it. Ofcourse, back then I never understood classical music (I don't understand it even now). I was more into the English boy-bands like all girls my age. But I liked listening to him, he did sing well. And I remember he paused after a stanza, smiled at me and told me, "When you hear classical Hindustani music, you move your head, you close your eyes and unbeknownst to you, your head sways. When you hear English music, you tap your feet." Do you see the difference? Classical music deserved the crown, while English pop music's place was at your feet.



And it's really sad that, we(today's generation) have neither the appreciation nor respect for our own music. And what music it is! If you see the stats for Pandit Bhimsen Joshi's Bangari Mori, you'll see it's popular with 34-64 year old males. That's bad now, isn't it? No 21 year old boys? No 26 year old girls? I feel it's left to us, our generation, to keep our music alive, to take it forward. To keep it alive by listening to it. But none of us have even heard of these maestros. And worse still, we don't have any inclination to listen to them. We instead listen to Justin Beibers and Lady Gaga( I am guilty of the same, not Beiber though!).

I wonder if our children will ever know of these maestros. I wonder if they'll ever hear Hindustani classical  music. I hope they do. And unlike us, I hope, they learn to appreciate it.

The Indian Memory Project

My grandparents, paternal ones, died when I was just a baby, and so other than an old photo and the stories dad told us a few times when we were kids, I don't know much about them. And not having grandparents was something I always felt bad about. I always wanted to have a big house with lots of cousins and lots of aunts and uncles and grandparents. I wanted to sit by their feet on a summer afternoon, sip aam-panna, and listen to their stories; stories from their younger days and stories about the pre-Independence India. 

Though that can never happen now, they are long dead, this wonderful website, managed to give me a precious peek into the lives of many such grandparents and their stories. A treasure trove for history enthusiasts. Do have a look.  

Caught In The Net...

So today was dedicated for Munira's wedding shopping and I bought two awesome sarees and I can't wait to flaunt them! :D Wheeeeeeeee! Okay so, one is baby pink and the other is in hot pink colour. Yes, I bought PINK sarees! :D Yay, yay, yay!


And like always I forgot about the details. Details like what you say? Well, I just realised that both the awesome sarees are made of net material, and well that's all fine. The real problem is that I have only 15 days left to get a liposuction. Or else everyone at Munira's wedding is going to get a full view of my awesome tummy. Yep. That's ofcourse, if she lets me enter the wedding hall in those sarees, in the first place.


Anyway, so when I told mom I am buying sarees for Munira's wedding instead of lengha's, she was more than happy. According to mothers, once a girl wears a saree, she's ready for marriage. I bought my first saree in 2004 for my sister's wedding. But my mom is still hopeful. What can I say?


You know it's only when you go to the markets, the real markets of India, do you realize how the not-so-well-off live and buy. Shopping in the malls has insulated us from the harsher realities that exist a few kilometers away from those malls. We buy in AC malls, with music and assistants to help you, and where you don't have to lug around heavy bags, you instead have carts or then bags with wheels that you can drag around.


But you buy from these markets and you realise, in that whole chaos which defines the Indian markets, how lucky you are.


And while we are on the topic of buying, I bought bananas on the way today. I mostly never bought any groceries (though I can bargain real well :D), dad or mom always did. I only bought the "gourmet" vegetables for the likes of pasta and pizza, that too from the gourmet shops, and so I went to the market like after a long time and good god! Bananas are 30 rupees a dozen? What the hell happened? Did all bananas go to heaven? And my favourite oranges? They're 100 rupees a dozen! Even a litre of petrol is cheaper! I remember buying them oranges at 40/- a dozen last winter. If someone like me finds 100 rupees a dozen for oranges costly, what do the poor eat?


And we girls really need to learn the art of saving from our mothers. I mean, look at us! We have regular incomes and good incomes for that matter and we never save anything. I don't know what happens to my money. It comes and goes. And I am like, erm, yes I have been working for 4 years now, what happened to all that money? I guess I need to open my wardrobe and look inside. Yes, I need to learn how to save from mother. Our stay-at-home moms never had regular incomes like we do, but still they managed to save so much, and we? We don't even know what happens to our money. Shameful.


And so it's decided. 2011 new year resolution is: Learn the art of saving. Yep. I'll be a rich woman someday.

Polka Dots...

Jaan bhi lete ho aur zinda rahe yeh dua bhi karte ho. Kya hai tumhara pyaar aur kaisi tumhari nafrat!


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In other news, lingerie brands in India need to do a fresh market research on what "women in India want". If anyone out there is listening: Hello, you all make crappy underwear.

Look, underwear with floral designs? Very nice, but we don't want crappy flowery designs. You know the big gaudy maroon flowers with blue leaves? Yes, please get new designers.

I can never understand why Indian lingerie brands, even some international brands selling in India, can never get lingerie/nightwear right. Really! How difficult must it be to design a sexy underwear or a cute pajama? Very, apparently.


P.S: Not all Indian women have heavy bottoms, you know what I mean? The pajamas in stores look like they were made for baby elephants.

At Delhi Airport #1

Airports are a place for great meditation. Also good for studying human nature. Such wonderful insights.

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October is over. You know what that means, don't you?

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Kids in our country are treated like little kings and queens. One tantrum here and one whimper there and mummy-papa rush to pacify the kid. The kid ofcourse can have anything. Kids are luckiest people I tell you!

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Punjabi people, my god, they love talking. Irritatingly so.


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China copied the tubes from London and India(Delhi) from them both. Why am I not surprised? Even Delhi airport eerily reminded me of China airport. Where's the creativity dude? Soon we'll have same looking airports all over the world!


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Important advice for females: Always wear flats when travelling. Your feet, babydoll, will thank you.

I have almost completely stopped wearing heels since the accident. Been almost 11 months now. Don't miss them as much as I thought I would. But you know, heels give you a kind of confidence, a certain edge. I mean, if you can manage to walk and look graceful with those pencil heels, you must be awesome, right?

But woman, do not slouch, please? That's sacrilege! Heels are supposed to make you look confident and hot and statuesque and graceful and all those wonderful things. Slouchy? Not! If you are going to drag your half-dead body around like that, just throw away those bloody heels already!


*****
This is what I love about travel. It gives you a chance to meet new different people. People from all walks of life. Lovely.


*****
Delhi women, they are hot. Not all ofcourse. But most women are hot. But the hot ones are hot only till they open their mouth and then damn! All hotness goes *poof*


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If I was a guy I wouldn't marry a Delhi girl. I'd like to marry a Bangalore girl however. Or even a Mumbai girl.

Yes, I sometimes think about marrying women.

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Delhi men, as expected, pointy shoes and gelled, almost ridiculously spiked hair. Meh. No like.

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And will someone just slap these Delhi guys? They stare at you like their daddy dearest bought you from Razori garden solely for their viewing pleasure!

Someone needs to teach Delhi men, nay, all Indian men how to stare. We like you checking us out, but can't you be a bit classy about it? Huh?

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Punjabi women I have realised are very hot when young. Beautiful flawless complexions, nice features and well-endowed bosoms. But good lord, they age so bad!

All those creamy lassis and butter naans and aloo kulchas seem to take toll post-marriage. Not hot.


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Delhi at this time of the year made me feel like its national pastime is marriage and weddings. Everyone talks about weddings and jewellery and this and that. I agree, it's totally unfair of me to comment when I haven't even seen 1% of Delhi.

But when did I let that stop me from making biased uninformed ignorant remarks? Delhi is flashy and full of wannabe brides. There!

The Business of Business...

When P told me sometime back that Hyderabad had one of the largest Marwari population, I did not believe him. Call it ignorance, but I thought, Hyderabad? Heck no! What would a Marwari do in a Muslim dominant city?


I was curious, for the Marwari community always fascinated me. You can say I have grown up with Marwaris. From kindergarten to 8th grade, all my friends were Marwaris. Boys and girls alike. My childhood best friend ofcourse was a Marwari. I really learned how to cook under Priyanka's mom's guidance. Aunty was not only beautiful, resourceful but a great cook. Out of 7, I ate at Priyanka's house on atleast 5 days.You can say I literally lived at Priyanka's house. I think I have always admired the Marwari community, cause everyone was always learning something, doing something. I don't remember a single time when I was at Priyanka's house or R's house or any of my Marwari friend's house and the women were sitting idle, gossiping. They would gossip no doubt, which women don't? but they would all the time be doing something simultaneously. Their terraces will always have papads drying, or bottles of pickles. Their kitchens always bustling with activity and their drawing rooms always full of women making something or men discussing business.


I was always eager to learn and Aunty was happy to have one more student. From learning how to make Guava sabji (very yummy trust me!), to learning how to make deity clothes and jewelry(link), to how to use betel nuts to make Rangoli, to the art of cutting fruits, gardening, painting, needle work, to even the art of storing clothes(trust me it is an art!)...I could go on and on and on. Marwari women are like a box of wonderful learning. Learning under Aunty was literally like pursuing a mini homescience course. And these women pass all this wonderful skills from one generation to another by sharing it within the community. If one aunty knows something different, all other women will send their daughters to her to learn. While the boys are sent to work under other successful men from the community, to learn how to do run a business, women are sent to learn how to run a house. It's like an apprenticeship. They have such strong communities, no one is one single family. And everyone shares knowledge freely within the community.


Coming back to the point, I actually should not have been surprised. Marwaris, I found out have a strong presence in Hyderabad and Kolkata, two cities I never thought possible. You have to go back to understand why. Back to pre-independence days  when Bombay and Calcutta were two famous trading ports. When Hyderabad had rich Nizams who needed these money-lending Marwari bankers. You have to understand one thing about Marwari's, where there is trade and an opportunity to make money, you'll find a Marwari there.


This always reminds me of this story of my local baniya. Prakash and I went to the same tuitions in class 9th and 10th, which was right next door to his father's grocery shop. While I never spoke to him, I always felt bad for Prakash. The rich boys and mini-skirt wearing girls always made fun of him. Soon after 10th he started working at his father's store. And for the first few months, every time I went to buy a pen or notebook, he would feel shy. But by the time I joined engineering, he was already married.By the time I graduated they had already opened another store in the nearby area. They never hired anyone local. If more people were needed, cousins were called from back home to help. Present day, two sons and one cousin now run three shops, each independently. The funny thing, and something I totally admire, is that while this Marwari family came here and flourished in this small residential area, there was another foodmarket store, the likes of Spencer's which opened at the same time right next to their shop. By the time this family was opening their second grocery store, the big foodmarket had to shut down. They were going in loss. What a funny thing isn't it? The big chain store run by the local family couldn't stand competition with a small almost poor baniya family who had migrated to this city from a village somewhere in Rajasthan. That defines the spirit of this community to me. These people will flourish anywhere they go.



And having grown up with these resourceful industrious people, I totally recommend having atleast one marwari friend. Trust me, you'll come out learning so much, so much, you'll be amazed.