1)I don't remember exactly how small I was, but Dad was in the hospital and I had gone to visit him with mum. And while mum went to get Dad's medicines, I went to play in the adjoining balcony. And within 5 mins Dad had to come rushing to the balcony to rescue me. I had got my head stuck between the bars.
I was also one of those kids who inserted her fingers through the grill of a running table fan. Also tried to stop a running ceiling fan by sticking a big rod between the blades. I am surprised I am alive.
2)I also successfully managed to lodge a big (fake) pearl in right nostril at a very small age and it took around 1/2 hour to get it out. Also choked on many coins from time to time.
3)For years I waited for a watermelon tree to sprout from my mouth. I was positive one day a watermelon would tree would grow in my stomach. After all, trees grew from seeds right?
4)As kids, I played alone and always made up stories where I was the central character, ofcourse. I loved draping sister's orange dupatta and playing the character of Sita.
If I only knew what a sucky love-life she had, I would have chosen a different character :|
5)I loved playing "teacher-teacher" and had a box of chalks and a black board and a duster, just like they had in school. I loved giving homework to my imaginary students and ofcourse everyone was punished with double homework if they failed to finish previous day's homework. I taught poems from those little prayer books they sold in school.
6)Every afternoon after I'd come home from school, I would first keep my bag in one particular corner, finish my school homework for the day and only then change and eat. Go to tuition class, come back home at 6 PM, finish tuition home work, light diya at 7 PM with mom and say my daily prayers and then watch news with Dad. Help mom with Dinner and sleep by 9PM. In later years after dinner I would promptly iron my washed pinafore and polish shoes for the next day and pack my bag and keep it ready.
I wish I was even 1/10th as disciplined now.
7)I was one of those kids who *had* to buy something during a trip to the market. I would, like all bad kids, sit on the road and cry my lungs out. You had to atleast buy a vegetable to make me quiet.
8)I was also one of those kids who insisted on wearing new shoes in the store itself. Parents always got the old ones packed while I immediately got to show off in new pair of shoes.
9)I loved Sundays as a kid. Every Sunday mom would make "special" breakfast and we'd all eat while watching Ramanand Sagar's Ramayan/Mahabharat.
10)Every morning a kingfisher bird would come and sit on the electricity wires in front of our balcony. Dad and I had this daily routine, where either one of us would check if he was there that morning. For years, every morning, that kingfisher bird would come, sit for sometime and then fly away.
I wonder if he knew we waited for him every morning.
11)As a kid, the only way you could get me to wear an underwear was if you'd let me have a tail too. So mum or cousin sister would hang a waist string (petticoat nada) from the underwear and I'd go around the house shouting "Jai Hanuman". Too much Ramayan obviously.
12)I had no friends growing up(till about 4th grade) and parents had to actually drag me to the playground and ask other kids to include me in the games. I wanted to instead study.
What are your kiddie memories like?
November 16, 2010
Lucky Escape...
"I think of life as a good book. The further you get into it, the more it begins to make sense."- Harold S. Kushner
Sometimes it's good not to get the things you want. Sometimes, you are better off without them :)
Sometimes it's good not to get the things you want. Sometimes, you are better off without them :)
Proceed With Caution...
So today for the first time I broke my vow and used MC's and BC's while shouting at a guy on the road. A drunk taxi driver. And his bloodshot eyes should have scared me, ideally, but it just so frigging pissed me off that such *be prepared* low-IQ people are given license to drive! What does the government think driving is? Child's play? Our stupid corrupt RTO's are in a way responsible for all these road accidents! Yes, driving on Indian roads requires skill and very very high amount of intelligence. Every tom, dick and harry becomes a "driver" these days or then buys a motorcycle and starts riding on the roads. They know shit about traffic rules and they are not smart enough to intuitively know what "right of way" is. So hang me, but the only way to weed out such retards from the roads is by having stricter tests! And completely remove these so-called "agents" who through underhand means get you a license without you even having to sit for the test! I say, make these agents stand in the middle of the road and let these other idiots drive, let's see how many manage not to wet their pants! And ofcourse not to forget my own gender! I have seen women ride scooters with both their feet touching ground. WHY? Dear Aunty, if you can not bloody balance a two wheeler, you know what to do? Ofcourse you do not. So let me tell you, you don't ride a scooter in the first place! Practice first in your garden no? It's really simple. But clearly you are dumb enough not to understand such a simple thing. Why are these people take a chance with life? Have they no fucking brains at all? Or old uncles! And rich young 16 year old daddy's boys! Arghhhh....I can so murder someone right now :|
I think instead of teaching subjects like "moral education", the government and all private schools should include "Traffic rules" as one of their subjects right from 1st grade. Every child should be inculcated with "traffic sense" right from the time he starts riding his tricycle. I think with the kind of monstrous traffic conditions in the cities these days, a society that is more aware and well-educated about traffic rules and safety is the need of the hour! If only our government was listening!
*****
Talking about trying new things, recently I did something I never thought I would.
So I had clothes for every, what should I say, occasion? So I had club wear and pub wear, ofcourse there's a difference between the two and ofcourse clothes had to be different. Then there were separate clothes for dinners and separate for lunches. There were specific clothes I'd wear when going for the movies, there were separate ones I'd wear with parents (ofcourse it'super embarrassing when some guy is staring at your ass in front of your Dad, better avoid pissing Dad off, no?). There were separate type of clothes I'd wear when going for shopping and there were separate clothes for going down to the grocery shop. Separate ones for office, which again had formals, casuals and Indian wear. Indian wear were categorized as Indian-wear for everyday use and for "special occasions". There were clothes to be worn in the house (you don't want to look shabby even at home!), and there were separate ones for sleeping time. Am I missing anything? I am sure I missed something. Anyway, so yeah, so very tedious and so very vain. I don't know what happened to me. Maybe I saw sense or maybe I am just tired now or maybe I get no time these days.
Anyway, so I went to a club, like a good up-market club, in a patiala salwaar kameez and ofcourse more than me, Munira was super embarrassed. Heh :) I think more than embarrassed she was just shocked that I didn't run to the nearest mall and buy something "appropriate". I think I have reached that stage where I don't give two hoots about what people have to say. And really that's a wonderful thing. I think I cared about "propriety" and "what people think of me" a tad too much and it somehow affected everything I did. Which is quite sad actually. So in a way this is liberating. I think if I can pull off an Amritsari Patiala in a club, not get thrown out and yes, do look hot too, I definitely can sit at home in just my bathrobe and no one should have a problem, right? Right.
*****
And oh, I talked to him today :) but damn! He's not that smart :( Quite a shame.
I think instead of teaching subjects like "moral education", the government and all private schools should include "Traffic rules" as one of their subjects right from 1st grade. Every child should be inculcated with "traffic sense" right from the time he starts riding his tricycle. I think with the kind of monstrous traffic conditions in the cities these days, a society that is more aware and well-educated about traffic rules and safety is the need of the hour! If only our government was listening!
*****
Talking about trying new things, recently I did something I never thought I would.
So I had clothes for every, what should I say, occasion? So I had club wear and pub wear, ofcourse there's a difference between the two and ofcourse clothes had to be different. Then there were separate clothes for dinners and separate for lunches. There were specific clothes I'd wear when going for the movies, there were separate ones I'd wear with parents (ofcourse it'super embarrassing when some guy is staring at your ass in front of your Dad, better avoid pissing Dad off, no?). There were separate type of clothes I'd wear when going for shopping and there were separate clothes for going down to the grocery shop. Separate ones for office, which again had formals, casuals and Indian wear. Indian wear were categorized as Indian-wear for everyday use and for "special occasions". There were clothes to be worn in the house (you don't want to look shabby even at home!), and there were separate ones for sleeping time. Am I missing anything? I am sure I missed something. Anyway, so yeah, so very tedious and so very vain. I don't know what happened to me. Maybe I saw sense or maybe I am just tired now or maybe I get no time these days.
Anyway, so I went to a club, like a good up-market club, in a patiala salwaar kameez and ofcourse more than me, Munira was super embarrassed. Heh :) I think more than embarrassed she was just shocked that I didn't run to the nearest mall and buy something "appropriate". I think I have reached that stage where I don't give two hoots about what people have to say. And really that's a wonderful thing. I think I cared about "propriety" and "what people think of me" a tad too much and it somehow affected everything I did. Which is quite sad actually. So in a way this is liberating. I think if I can pull off an Amritsari Patiala in a club, not get thrown out and yes, do look hot too, I definitely can sit at home in just my bathrobe and no one should have a problem, right? Right.
*****
And oh, I talked to him today :) but damn! He's not that smart :( Quite a shame.
November 14, 2010
Marriages Are Made in Heaven?
It took a lot of courage and many dialogues with my self to come to a stage where I thought marriage was not so bad after all. And I did not want my faith in marriage shaken. Not after I struggled to believe in it in the first place.
But I see failing marriages all around. Both, arranged and love marriages, and they have done what a jerk would do to a cookie perched on the corner of a high table. The cookie has fallen down and crumbled into particles, like my faith in this "great" institution has. Or perhaps, not in this institution as much as in people. And in their innate goodness. Goodness, what goodness?
It wrenches your soul to watch a 55 year old woman cry for her only child's well-being. She is so heart broken, she does not even pray for her daughter's happiness anymore, she only prays that her daughter and her two granddaughters simply stay alive. Yes, where is God at such times I wonder. Where is justice?
Today's men are simply literate. Not educated. They're not.
Working in the US and studying in UK has not made them open-minded and/or understanding. They have travelled all over the world but they still live in their caves. They still treat their "better" halves as slaves, as maids. What has 21st century done for us women I wonder. When the husband locks his pregnant wife and denies her food while his son is growing inside her. When he treats her nothing more than a piece of furniture in the house. When he refuses to take her close or even talk to her for 5 years. Yes. That long. And yes, these men, they are from what one would say "good families". Families that have colonels and college professors as parents. Families that are respected in the society. Good families. I don't think so, if they raised such beasts as sons, I don't think so! What kind of children have you raised? I feel sorry for the women who raised such men! Sorry cause you not only failed as mothers but also as human beings. What a shoddy job you have done raising such imbeciles who do not realize how badly it affects his own children when he beats their mother because she spent an extra dollar on baby-food or didn't mow the lawn on time. Yes, six-year olds and 2-year olds can not say much, but they understand. And it's so sad that when even a little girl can understand, this grown man can not see that he is murdering his own happiness when he refuses his wife basic respect.
Yes, I am very bitter. I know all men aren't same, not as contemptible. All marriages are not quagmires, not made in hell. But what can I do? It's so difficult to see all these ruins and still hope that your house will be beautiful. It scares me. It scares me to know that we might be living in 2010, but women today are still treated as bad as they were back in 1700's.
This pain is not what we dream of when we tie that black thread and leave our carefully built world to make a home with you. We don't raise your children to have them hit and hurt by you. We don't give you our heart, body and soul for you to butcher them with your bare hands. We dream of happiness too. And so, look into our eyes and tell us that we don't deserve to be happy.
November 12, 2010
Manufactured Love...
So what do you do when you're talking insane? You shut up and let others speak. And so this blog needs some sanity I thought and so just like that, I asked Divya to write something for the blog. Here's a guest post by her :)
P.S: If I was a guy, I'd totally date her. So if you're in London...you know what to do, right?
*****
Soliloquy on Manufactured Love
They say the young ones don’t know what love is
(or what love was)
back in the day
of stolen glances,
inked words in parched
papers, reeking of
innocence and simplicity
of a bygone era
laden with warm,
lilting words which
tilt hearts and heads
towards the buoyancy
of love and youth.
They say it’s all gone now, in this fast-paced,
(i-Everything) world
where the machinery
of love and loving
is alien to the old,
to the lovers of yesteryears,
who waged and raged
against odds, against scorn
to give birth to
the youth of today
and yet, the same flesh and
blood don’t speak the
same words, or make
the same vows.
We, the young, the strong, healthy bodies and limbs,
drink a different concoction
of love, made out of
various material ingredients,
purchased from Amazon,
with bits of the latest Apple gadgets,
a dazzling sprinkle of De Beers,
and the hallmark of today’s love
-Hallmark cards and gifts.
Who needs romance?
Who has time for gestures?
Who notices hand-written letters?
Who has the time to remember?
Or to be reminded of moments?
They say the young ones don’t know what love is
(or what love was)
We stomp our feet and say this is what love is:
Manufactured, hassle- free, next day-delivery, (and gift-wrapped?)
P.S: If I was a guy, I'd totally date her. So if you're in London...you know what to do, right?
*****
Soliloquy on Manufactured Love
They say the young ones don’t know what love is
(or what love was)
back in the day
of stolen glances,
inked words in parched
papers, reeking of
innocence and simplicity
of a bygone era
laden with warm,
lilting words which
tilt hearts and heads
towards the buoyancy
of love and youth.
They say it’s all gone now, in this fast-paced,
(i-Everything) world
where the machinery
of love and loving
is alien to the old,
to the lovers of yesteryears,
who waged and raged
against odds, against scorn
to give birth to
the youth of today
and yet, the same flesh and
blood don’t speak the
same words, or make
the same vows.
We, the young, the strong, healthy bodies and limbs,
drink a different concoction
of love, made out of
various material ingredients,
purchased from Amazon,
with bits of the latest Apple gadgets,
a dazzling sprinkle of De Beers,
and the hallmark of today’s love
-Hallmark cards and gifts.
Who needs romance?
Who has time for gestures?
Who notices hand-written letters?
Who has the time to remember?
Or to be reminded of moments?
They say the young ones don’t know what love is
(or what love was)
We stomp our feet and say this is what love is:
Manufactured, hassle- free, next day-delivery, (and gift-wrapped?)
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