Who says to plan?

Planning has been an important component in every woman’s life and I am no different. I just love to plan. But lately none of my planning seems to work and so does with people around me. The girl was young, beautiful, smart and talented. She fell in love with somebody you would be proud to bring home and your parents mighty impressed. He had the degrees, the job, the age and everything for a ‘happily-ever after love story’. When everything was working fine, his job, her career, their parents…she did one thing that we (women) are so good at. She planned. And according to her plans, they got married after a fairly long courtship. When both were relatively settled, career wise. She could manage to take a break for the impending wedding and the honeymoon. He was fairly established to ask for long absence from work for an exotic location honeymoon. Maybe, get a tan (expensive because the expenses were to cost a bomb) and show-it-off at work. And successful, they were in going as per plans. Marriage took them to phases of life, which they handled pretty well. The bedroom sagas were planned too. Sexless nights on week days because both had to report early to work. Weekends were reserved for some action but on-your-guard was the ‘keyword’ because they were on planning. She didn’t want to extend the family until some quality time spent together which did extend till five years. And it wasn’t that they couldn’t afford a child but she had a long list of plans to follow first like a three bedroom house with 2 car parks, separate cars for each of them blah blah (which we women are so good at). As before, the plans worked well to an extent. They did have a child after 5 years whom they welcomed with all the love and affection you could think of. She took a break because she had planned well to raise her child. He had reached an important position where you could support his family comfortably. Everything was working as per her plans. But hey, wait. After almost a decade the marriage fell apart. The plans went haywire. Despite all the love, the comfortability, the easy finances something fell short. Now, she has no plans to fix it up. Maybe there is a force above who has the right to make plans because only He has the power to make or break them. Today, when I too migrated to a new country, I had my own plans to lead my life. Nothing big just small little ones. Yet nothing seems to be working as per my plans. Then I remembered them and told myself ‘who am I to make plans?’

Love will Conquer All-An ode

I love, love stories and have been fed on an overdose of “and they lived happily ever-after”. Afterall my generation has experienced Bollywood movies soaked in love, thanks to the great Mr. Yash Chopra. The big canvass of pretty people made even prettier in his movies with the mind-boggling scheme of colours especially the whites and pastels. Else could you think of a movie where Sridevi looked better than Chandni, Rekha looked more mesmerising than Silsila or Juhi Chawla looked more angelic than Darr? The legend just had a penchant for pampering our vision with cinematic delights in whatever he touched by. The effect He created on his audience was spellbinding. He gave us hope, He let us believe that love shall seek us too. He made us laugh, he make us cry and most of all he made us wanting to fall in love. And whatever was left, His music did the rest. Most of His films had such haunting music for every mood that you just can’t imagine live without them. Sometimes His music even helped us to express the unsaid like in my good old college days, the first love letter said, “Jaddu teri nazar, kushboo tera badan” from his then blockbuster “Darr”. And many a times (even today) when I am happy I do whisper (because I have been taught to love thy neighbour), “Terre mere hoothon pe” from the inimitable “Chandni”. Today, when the genius is no more to spell his magic, the heart misses him so much. Because nobody showed us stories about the heart as better as Mr. Yash Chopra did. I often thought that his wife is so lucky to have a man as romantic as him in her life. Today, my heart goes out to her because her loss is irreparable. I silently pray for her and wish the family gets the courage to bear this loss. As for millions of cinegoers back home and world-wide, the loss can never be filled because it is not easy to find someone who can entertain and encourage with amazing love stories of all time. The loss is even more for generations to follow as they will never get to see new movies that’ll “make them fall in love over and over again.”

Durga Pooja...then and now

Back home, it is time for celebration as we Bongs are at the eve of Durga Pooja (Dussehra Festival). The markets get flooded with people doing their last minute shopping else you’ll find people (like me) too lazy to pick clothes and generally wait till the last minute. Whatever be the reason, the air smells of celebration, loud outburst of laughter and kids screaming around. The familiar sound of the daakh(a localised version of the drum) will embrace the air and you can smell the festivities all round thanks to the wonderful delicacies for your palette or the wonderful aroma of the exotic spring season. As a kid, I would begin the countdown since long because for me the Pooja meant “no studies”. Schools were closed for Dussehra festivals and parents were busy organising the pandal, prasad and cultural events. So we could take a breather from the boring routine of books and enjoy as long as it lasted. I loved the Pooja so much so that the last day, when Maa Durga’s idol was immersed, tears ceased to stop and a sudden hopelessness told me that “my good old days” were over. On the threshold of my teen, I still enjoyed the Pooja because now it meant buying new clothes with matching accessories. And if I was lucky enough, maybe a little bit of make-up too would be allowed. Those four days of celebration saw me all decked up for the occasion and lots of admiring eyes followed which thrilled me then. Parents were busy in letting the events of the days run smoothly while we, teenagers were busy creating some historical love stories. Some love stories where stronger than most and succeeded in succumbing to matrimony later. As I grew into an independent adult, my enthusiasm died because I couldn’t manage to get office leaves. And whenever I did, I despised the enquiries that were made of my marital status. Marriage proposals came pouring down and would chase me down long after Maa Durga bid us farewell. I hated the all familiar discussions of the ladies encircling some extra marital affairs, few break-ups or just plain simple bitching stories about others. Gradually, I started distancing myself from the Bongs biggest event. Today, when I am thousands of miles away from my place of origin, I dearly miss the occasion. I am trying hard to breathe in the air for traces of back home celebrations. I am terribly nostalgic of the regular khichudi bhoog (rice-lentil dish served as prasad) for which there was always a long queue wherein the known aunties would give up their chance for us to be fed first. I miss the regular Indian clothes and the fanfare all together. I miss the chaos, chats and good food later. I miss DURGA POOJA. Happy Durga Pooja everyone!!