No electricity for a while now. The husband believes in frugal living, so no power back-up at home. I think the time has come to chew his brains and get an inverter installed, especially if i were to plan an extended stay at home. All this stay at home is making me nostalgic. It's taking me back to those childhood summer holidays -- unlike the children of today, summer for us meant sweat dripping, skin scorching fun-filled outdoor activities under the hot sun. It meant mock fights under a cool shower, 'mom-made' summer delicacies, visits from friends and family, lazy afternoons, and pleasant evenings on the terrace over long discussions and story-telling sessions. The best part were the lazy summer afternoons, with an overfed stomach and nothing else to do, when we stared at the ceilings and weaved endless dreams, not knowing when sleep took over only to be greeted with the cool evening breeze and a glass of refreshing mango drink...oh those days!!! Back to the present. I am reading Shankar's 'Chowringhee' in English. I am afraid a lot of the nuances seem to be lost in the translation and probably it would be a better idea to have read it in the original form. So much for our anglicized upbringing. I have promised myself that I will make the effort to read more vernacular literature from now on. The prospect of another lazy day looming ahead is exciting. I might catch up with a friend for a girls' time-out today. Feel like pampering myself with a little bit of shopping. Oh, by the way, the cook didn't turn up yesterday...she is doing the disappearing act quite regularly now; need to find an alternative. However, that gave us the excuse to have some yummy Arabic food for dinner...the barbecue chicken with the smooth garlic sauce was delicious. The shabarmas were also quite good. The husband wants me to join him for lunch today. But I don't feel like doing the hour long drive to town, especially with my mad driver who is quite crazy on the roads. Getting good domestic help is a challenge in Mumbai. I am so enjoying it at home that thinking about freelancing seriously now. The initial response and feedback has been encouraging. There are also a couple of projects that are there for the taking. But 'entrepreneurship' is a big decision and I don't know whether I have it in me. So will sleep over it a few more days before taking the final plunge (either ways). Any advice on this bit will be welcome and genuinely appreciated. What else?? Like a typical girl, I couldn't have stuck to one topic and meandered over a lot of things. That is typical me, the pig head with bag full of silly ideas. Enough for now. See you again soon.
In my view, one of the most impressionable cinematic characters by far is that of 'the Joker.' I think the personality and the darkness is so strong that it completely overshadows the goodness of 'the Dark Knight'. Even though positive forces triumph in the end, the memory that you walk back with is the sheer theatrical force and piercingly alarming stronghold of the buffoon.
Don't mistake me..i am not on a cinematic journey nor i am trying to act a critic. I am just giving vent to some pent up emotions. For in real life, don't we encounter such characters in the veil of normalcy once in a while?
Someone who will fool around, be the 'agony aunt/uncle' to all and sundry, bitch with you and about you, leave no one unscathed, form a group of followers to feed off and feed with, act the benign uncle until emotions conflict and paths cross and then silently stab you at the back, all the while smiling and showing that he/she still is your greatest benefactor. Such a person who bitches with you and seem to stand by you obviously becomes the 'poster boy.'
How then do you bare the fact when you see through the antics, when it is appallingly clear that he/she is instigating your juniors, subtly flaming jealousy and unhealthy relationship among peers, clawing at you and pulling you down smartly at every opportunity. The antics are so sublime and smart that only the wronged can feel the pinch.
Don't get me wrong, you are not the only one on the target list. There are several others that the joker bitches about and then befriends them and bitches with. That is the modus operandi.
I have written all of these without a pause and as I read back, I think it is too strong, but I won't delete for I feel strongly about it. I am in a conflict right now, and the practical and the egoistical sides of me are in a raging war with each other. I will give it a few more days but I have strong inclination that the ego/self esteem in me will win the battle.
It seems I am again in the path of shedding the past and moving on to something new. While the old will do its best to retain me, not to let me go, it is for me to move ahead in life. Change is difficult but essential.
Thank God at least the parents and the husband understand and the finances will not let me down. For all the small mercies in life :). Next time, when I visit the blog, hope to be in a better mood.
Until then, take care.
Hi,
I know, i know...yes, i haven't really visited this blog for a while now; all of you have been complaining about my inertia. And you are absolutely justified; blame it on my attention span. A lot of things happened in the meantime--some personal, some about the world at large. Visited Siliguri after a gap of 6 months. We had a lovely family reunion. Something about this town is enough to rejuvenate my spirits. From the serenity of the tea gardens as you drive out of the airport, to the small town buzz, to the home cooked food to the slow paced, easy life—there is magic in the air. And not to forget the pampering and filial love—can anything ever match up to it?? Life in Siliguri is such a far cry from the ‘everydayness’ of Mumbai
A short trip to Kolkata was also on the cards. The city at this time of the year is hot and sultry. It will scorch your skin and leave you dehydrated and sick. However, if you love food and if you are a shopaholic like me, you wouldn’t mind the two day stop. Bought some lovely cotton kurtas, absolutely Bengali, slick and smart; at least that’s what I think. I am now loaded with a lot of new clothes—what with the gifts that mom bought me and the purchases that I made in Kolkata (yayayyy..isn’t that fun)
A close friend at work has put in her papers. Office would be dull without her…we had some lovely time together. It’s been more than a year and a half for me in the same role. Wish I could add some new dimensions to my profile. The learning curve seems to have flattened out a bit. Thinking of giving writing a serious thought (if you know of anyone interested in a freelance writer, do let me know)
The husband is on a food binge. He has thrown caution to the winds and feasting on all kinds of non-veg—how he loves his turkey and chicken. He has now got his partner in crime to booze (since it is MY friend’s husband, he feels that I am not entitled to complain). So life is one big party for him.
Have you guys watched anything interesting recently? Sat through DevD and Luck by chance over the weekend. Luck by chance is quite boring and if it were not for Farhan Akhtar, I would have deserted the movie midway. The man has some charisma and even his drain pipe voice sounds interesting. However, Konkana was a big let down—wish she was presented better.
DevD is delicious. It is steeped with modern emotions and an identity which is so familiar. A friend mentioned, “DevD is raw.” I think it is that unfazed rawness, the sharpened edges that make it refreshing. However, if ever betrayed in love, I would rather stand straight and move ahead in life. The luxury of drowning oneself in betrayed love is so ‘uncool’.
I think this is ‘it’ for now. I have bored you all enough with the small talk. Oh, by the way, if you have time, do read Saeed Mirza’s “Ammi—Letter to a democratic mother.” The book is eclectic and layered with some hard driven truths.
Enough for now. I wanted to share some thoughts on the world around us. But this piece has become very personal. I would leave that for some other time.
Take care.
jayatri
We all talk about the Mumbai spirit…..the spirit of survival, the spirit of existence in a frenzied world, the spirit to stand by each other in the hour of need. It is commendable to stand up and fight the world when things suddenly turn upside down.
But there is a side of us which none of us acknowledge, forget do anything about. Every time I hear the wail of an ambulance, my heart skips a beat. And every time I see the vehicle, my anger overflows the acceptable limit. For in our mad world, even the moan of the sick does not merit importance. In our rush to reach our destinations, we will not stop and give way to the sick even if that means the end of a life for those precious few seconds of intolerance and indifference.
People, who block, overtake or just don’t give way to the wail of sick, are they any better than animals who can’t respond to the environment around. And I may be completely mistaken here, animals also reciprocate, react to surroundings—such humans are worse than anything around.
Our civic body needs to rise and respond to the situation—if most of us are thick skinned and without emotions, we need rules to make us aware of our civic duties….and it b****** well is our responsibility to stop and give way to the ambulance that is carrying the sick and the dying to the hospital.
Citizens, have conscience and lets all be human in the true sense of the word.
K and I went out for an evening walk yesterday. While getting back home, we met an uncle who stays in the same building. He embarrassed me by asking which college and what stream I was pursuing. Now I have a frail physique and on top of it, I was in shorts and Tees. For a ‘traditional generation yesterday’, it is understandable that he could never comprehend the lady of the house in such attire. However it got me thinking that one day I would jump, skip and hop from the college-girl look to the mid-age appearance, completely missing the full bloom of youth.
On being informed that I had crossed college life years back and was now a part of the rat race engaged in earning their own living, uncle was curious to know where I worked and what I did for living. Now how do I explain to a man of yesteryears that I was an online marketer and worked with Cleartrip.com, driving all their digital initiatives.
What would new media, digital initiatives, and an e-commerce company mean to an average Indian today? Wished I was skilled in something more concrete and meaningful, like a neurosurgeon or criminal lawyer, something more beneficial to the society.
Kuheli called after ages. We had a heart-to-heart talk. It’s amazing when we are talking how we manage to bridge all the lost time. It was as if we were continuing the thread of our conversation from yesterday.
I see a reflection of my life mirrored in hers. It’s surprising how we go through the same milestones and obstacles in our daily existence. We even share the same wedding day. To both of us, who have managed to complete three years of glorious married lives.
Here’s to you, Kuheli and myself and our respective spouses. Wish you a very happy wedding anniversary.
The husband and I had an argument over the new President of the United States today morning (as if there wasn’t anything more important closer home). The husband felt that there was too much noise around the swearing in this time around. According to him, while it is really commendable for an Afro-American to occupy the highest post of office in the US of A, the man should be measured only by the performance that he brings to the table.
All the noise around the person, according to him is unjustified, unless he is given enough time to prove his mettle. He feels that empty words and being glib is just not enough, unless he can fructify all that he has promised. If for some reason, his action doesn’t measure up to his words, all the noise that surrounds him, and the frenzy that he is associated with today, will become so much more painful.
However, I am all swept by the charisma of the person, the wiry frame, the enigmatic smile and the vibrancy and exuberance that he exudes. I am completely bought by his glib, his recounting of his personal life, his family persona , his everyday normal guy attitude and images of him swaying to music (have we seen any other President clapping and swaying to music before??)
I guess this is the basic difference between the man and the wife. While the husband is all practical and will measure a person only by his actions, the emotional, gullible fool in me will be easily swept by anything charismatic and pleasant to the eye.
In a completely different note, I was wondering, if being glib and a good public speaker was the only criteria to become a successful mass leader. Who would then qualify for the post in India?
My choice was Farhan Akhtar, to which the husband totally freaked out. He felt that even if we did agree with my misplaced logic and superficial qualifiers, Vinod Dua would be a much better choice. (Sometimes, I wonder how two people could be so different and still be man and wife)
We also disagreed about the need to be wiry to be a charismatic person. According to me, you need to have a lean and athletic body to exude energy and confidence (oh, how perverse I can be….), while to him, body weight is irrelevant in the scheme of things. As a justification, he cited the example of Winston Churchill, whom he feels was one of the most charismatic leaders in modern history.
Guess, ours is a match of two different personalities trying to lead a life together…the husband says we are like the chalk and cheese…I am happy to assume that I am the cheese here J.
First love letter—Wrote my first love letter to Roberto Baggio, when I was all of 8 years. The letter was written in hindi, as a part of my third language assignment in the fourth standard.
Cricket aspirations: Was to become Mrs. Mohd. Azharuddin—found him very handsome (yaks!!!!!) at that age. Fall back option was Ajay Jadeja in case things did not go as planned with Azhar.
Movie Connections: As in all girls school, I had my fair share of followers. I distinctly remember some school kids comparing me to the hero of Maine Pyar Kya (hero, ay?? )
Sainthood dreams: Every time I was rebuked, I wrote a letter to Mother Teresa wanting to be a nun. I must have written more than 15000 letters to her. (yeah, you got it right-- I wasn’t exactly the model child and had enough reasons to be scolded)
Altruistic tendencies: Hated regular food. The brother and I got a good spanking from the parents when in the absence of elders, we invited a ragged beggar, made him sit at our dining table and fed him our food at the age of 10-11. Thankfully, the beggar was no crook or else God save us.
First real ambition: Was to become a maid, a house help, so that I would be allowed to wash utensils at home and avoid the grill of student life.
First Real Crush: Oh..so many. Anyone who had a good voice and was a good orator, I was immediately floored. So many heart breaks I must have suffered.
The list continues…. more on this later. Stay connected.
Mr. X and Y were busy discussing a lady and her eccentricities, without heeding that there were others in the vicinity. Slightly perturbed by the nonsense banter, I tried my best to engage myself in whatever I was doing. And even with the most honorable intentions of not overhearing the conversation, my ears picked up a few lines which antagonized me endlessly.
Here is how the conversation goes:
Mr. X: Y, did you know I had just called up Mrs. C
Mr. Y: Is it? So, what happened?
Mr. X: Oh, don’t ask. As soon as I greeted her, she replied ‘Don’t call me Mrs. C. I am Ms. C’
Mr. Y: Ha!Ha! You need to be careful with these Bong women. They are very dangerous.
Now, if you were me and you belonged to the same community, how would you have reacted? It is not a question of whether I am Bengali, Gujrati or Marathi or from some god forsaken island community in the middle of nowhere. It is about, who gives right to other individuals to make fun of anyone else.
Read further and you will notice how far these ‘so called sophisticated’ men can go.
Yours truly: I am shocked and take grave offense. Y, how dare you speak like that when I am around?
Mr. Y: Hey, but you are not a bong; you don’t look and behave like a Bengali at all. You, surely, are from some other part of the country.
My Bengali roots boiled at that statement. Why do people typecast a community a certain kind? Even with all the progress that we have made and the potpourri of cultures that we exist in, it is shocking to hear comments like that. More frustrating are the assumptions that I would be overjoyed to be bracketed in a group who did not belong to Bengal.
I was at a loss to explain the psyche of such people. Who are ‘they’ in the reality of today—are they representative of the mass or are they in the minority? Are they some insecured bunch of commoners who could only mouth the stereotypical reactions or are they radicals who truly believed likewise?
While I truly consider myself a conscientious human being, an Indian and a Bengali in the order mentioned, I do hold some pride in my bong roots. I am nowhere close to being a flag-bearer of the community and most of my closest friends are non-Bengalis. I am open to the world and would embrace its every nook and corner with the same enthusiasm.
But at some corner, I am as intensely proud of my roots as is anyone else. We pride in our destiny and our roots, for they define our culture and being. And I hate such mindless quotes, who out of whatever reason, even dare to bracket us in the stereotypical nonsense.
A couple of days back I heard something interesting and very thought provoking. Here is a version of how I recall it.
Old methods/behavior+ old techniques= predictable results
Old methods/behavior+ new techniques= unpredictable
An example,
War is an old behavior, an old method to settle scores or win territories (whatever that may be). In the old ways, when people fought with bows and arrows or local warfare, it had predictable results (though war has never been totally predictable, yet you could still gauge the winner or the extent of carnage from the strength of stake holders involved)
War, the old behavior still continues, but with alarmingly new techniques. Is there anything predictable in the high tech, atomic warfare of today?
Serious thoughts but expand it to any facet of life, and it might hold true.
Is it time for us to change those old habits which have become obsolete in today's world and might be detrimental to our existence?
Why was K K Menon left out in Wednesday? I really loved the movie and thought the portrayal of the characters were very good, right from the assertive Anupam Kher, to the conscientious Naseeruddin Shah, to the hunk ATS officer Jimmy Shergill, not to forget the likeable Aamir Bashir. Every actor fitted the role seamlessly and it was one of the finest cinema that I have watched in recent times. However, I did miss K K Menon in the movie. Right from Black Friday to Mumbai Meri Jaan, I think he is an actor who brings out the poignancy, the reality of such situation in a manner that is unmatched and very forceful.
Wishing that in future we see more of K K Menon in his very best in such meaningful cinema.
The story, though set in an ancient era, draws definite parallel to modern day society, where the woman in the backdrop, through her silent but strong attributes, define the course of several lives. The dark, unwhetted love that Draupadi feels for Karna, silently drives the kings to the intense battle, that is known as Mahabharata. Though it will be too simplistic and totally out of context to attribute the entire Mahabharata to one unrequited love, the first person narration from the regal lady, brings forward the forceful character that changed the course of history.
The book is a must read to understand the intricacies of the era, to fall head over heels in love with the man called Karna, to understand the fragility in the strength of characters like Dhristyadyumna, Drona and several others, and most importantly to relate to a lady who never forgave Arjuna, for sharing her body and spirit with four others, and led the entire life pining for a man who she believed would have behaved otherwise.
Very modern in its conflicts between Kunti and Draupadi, it’s passion for revenge, its depiction of love and ambition, the characters as seen through the eyes of Draupadi, give a new facet to the often narrated story of Mahabharata.
