Not common

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“Stop it that’s too much”, is what I often grew up hearing as I have this habit of getting carried away. And thank God for that! Atleast there was somebody to draw the line when it was enough.
I realize it more often than now when I see this whole circus of the Common Wealth Games in Delhi ensuring a prime location in every newspaper or news channel. First of all whoever decided to host the CWG game needs to be given a “Thank You” note with a statutory warning of “Not using his/her brain again otherwise the whole nation may die of shame.”
Second of all the organizers deserve a much round of applause for their outstanding service to the nation by pocketing huge sum of the hard earned tax payers money. Probably a ‘Shaurya Chakra’ would do justice to them for being so brave and unashamed about the whole thing. So much so that when one of the foot bridge fell even before any of us got a chance to set our feet there, the only response was “Hey, chill guys! Such minor setbacks are bound to happen in such big events”.
The accusations from a host of other countries displaying their loud public displeasure about the cleanliness and inadequacy of the state of affairs in CWG village too doesn’t seem to have any impact on the who’s-who our nation. And why should it be? Most of them chose to go deaf when it is not of interest to them.
Our last hope is the heavy rains hitting the north region that is posing some serious flood thread all across the region. Even nature is playing a spoilt sport here. Probably it is God’s way of saying, “Stop now. That’s too much”.

Not everything can be fixed

(Picture courtesy Google)

Life came to a standstill on the eve of any cricket match during my growing up days. Classes dropped and offices missed depending upon the situation of our team in the series. And whenever we won, the celebrations too ecstatic to describe. Would you believe me if I say that my not-so friendly vegetable vendor who otherwise would not even let you open your mouth to haggle, generously distributed free brinjals on the our victory against the cross border neighbour not known for its friendly ways?
Even my household was no different. All other mundane chores like cooking, cleaning, mopping would get finished before the start of the match. And if it happened to be on an off day, even better. Lunch would be timed as per the schedule of the player’s lunch time, tea time or the advertisement time. Any refreshment demand apart from these timings would be met with blank looks or better sheer indifference. So engrossed we got in the match sometimes that we just forgot to blink. Even the sanest ones would simply lose logic and insist upon sitting at the same place without moving an eyelid because Sachin has been hitting well ever since you sat at that place. All your nature’s call can wait, they would argue. Because what is more important you or the nation?
Such was the fever that everyone had an expert advice to give in between the overs. So what if you haven’t held a bat in your entire lifetime? Or couldn’t make out a no ball from a wide? Yet as an Indian we did have the birthright to comment on anything and everything that you could think off. While the not so interested ones would cheer for the better looking players each time they were onscreen, without a clue of which teams were playing.
Now times have changed. For better or worse, no points for guessing. No more we feel the need to spend sleepless night over a match because God knows what’s behind? Only the players can tell whether it’s fixed or not. And even if a player gives his best, the mind screams, “Could there be more than what meets the eye?”
Pray not because it is cricket that is always on the losing side. The palpitation in the crucial overs will be missed. The continuous chanting of prayers to see your team win will be skipped. The memories of those heroic innings by some brave player when it mattered the most will fade. And guys, that is something which just can’t be fixed.

When are you settling down?

“Marriage is a union made in Heaven … and hey wait till I finish my line…. And lived in Hell.”
These are not mine but a popular quote of the wisely that I am sure you are well aware off.
Yet, India seems to be obsessed with marriage. Why put one more blame on our politicians and the bureaucracy? Look around you and see how crazy we all are to see people getting married and struggling to remain so till death do them apart. So much so that whenever we come across a fresh carefree breeze of youth in the neighbourhood the pang of jealously brings out the evil in each one of us. And it becomes our business to constantly bombard the parents with the time tested and tried question of “when are you getting your daughter/son married?” Till the time they get restless and pass the germ ahead.
As if that wasn’t enough we feel it is our birthright to bug the prospective bakra (read the goat to be butchered) with again the old boring question of, “ so when are you calling me for your marriage dinner?” As if this is the last supper we’ve been waiting all through our lives without which we just can’t reserve our berth in Heaven.
Most times we get so carried away that we don’t even run shy of playing cupid. Whether the subjects of our real life drama (directed by us) is least concerned or doesn’t hide his/her irritation doesn’t dampen our morale. We carry on our crusade of so-called settling people down.
The term settling down itself has a different connotation in our country. Elsewhere it would mean to have a good job that does not require dealing in arms or killing people, to have a decent pay package if not a big fat one that doesn’t require extortion or blackmailing. All in all to have a life where you are not doing anything against the law and still being able to pay all your bills along with a certain portion of the income reserved for indulgence.
But, hey, in India “settling down” has a new meaning that’s unchanged since eternity. It means to get married and stay married forever. Even if you’re able to enjoy all the finer things in life more frequently than others yet you won’t be figuring out in the list of the accomplished haves until you tie the knot. And it is everybody’s business here to make you settle down (your opinion is immaterial).
But the moment you take the pledge and still learning to swim. There comes the loud chorus of all well-wishers, “See, we told you not to marry?”
And you are left scratching your head wondering, “When did I miss the statutory warnings?”
But before you know you’ll sail through with a vengeance that screams, “Pay back time folks! If I wasn’t spared, why should anybody else?”
While you go on greeting, “Wishing you a very happy wedded life”.

Bye Bye Love!

The pain of losing a pet is something that’s new to me. Now, a lot of people who haven’t had the good fortune of having one would never be able to relate. And without any offence to those who are scared of pets or have formed some kind of aversion to them, I must say that you are missing out on a wonderful experience.
These little creatures just storm into our lives and create a place of their own. Trust me when I say that you don’t have to be an animal lover to have one. They just teach you to love in a whole new way that is alien to our species.
Like my dog Rocky did. He just marched into our lives with severe resistance from most around. And even though I didn’t have a pet before, his beautiful eyes made me fall in love. And in true filmy style I argued, I fought, even I cried in front of the whole neighbourhood till the opposition softened and allowed me to keep him.
Now, it wasn’t a smooth ride. Especially when Rocky had a taste for only the finer things in life. Like he refused food without Chilly Chicken on the menu followed by a bowl of rice and milk with a generous sprinkle of the super rich cream. Or say, when he would just go hungry for days wanting only Vanilla Ice Cream to savour. Even he needed his own bed with a pillow to rest along with a thick blanket and hip coats for trendy winters. Obviously, a handsome fellow like him wouldn't like to be left behind. Yet all the effort was worthwhile for the hearty welcome he gave every time I came back is the best by far, even better than any man would have. And even before realization daunted us, Rocky became the centre of our world. Our life revolved around him and he earned many nicknames to which he responded with the ever friendly wag.
Times changed and marriage took me to a different city where I howled for my beloved Rocky for long. Finally the hubby who never had a dog before with a fetish for cleanliness took pity on me. And bought me my second pet, a Labrador named Buddy. He eased my separation pangs yet Rocky gave me the best welcome each year when I went visiting my folks.
Today when Rocky is gone, the void in my heart is too great to be filled. I meet him in my dreams more often than before. I hold my second one tighter than before hoping that the pain would ease. Life is going on yet I miss Rocky terribly for it’s him who taught me the meaning of “love”. May you rest in peace and solace!

Dost aur dosti

Friendship Day went by and as typical of me I forgot to wish most of my friends. But they know me well, and they would have been hell worried if it had happened otherwise. Well, that’s me yet I am shamelessly not bothered about it. Perhaps that is what friends are for. No expectations just rock solid support.
Like the one when two gal friends decided to parade the entire capital on an antique two-wheeler without a license and a flimsy helmet. Just because we didn’t have boyfriends to give us flowers on Valentines Day while the rest of the world was too busy proclaiming their love. Hell the world even if it meant a direct drop to hell. Because heaven was never meant for us. Dear M that’s been the best valentine I’ve ever spent.
Or the one, when yours truly stole a helmet in broad daylight from a crowded tea stall. Just because the driver happens to be a dear friend whose helmet met with a same fate earlier that day somewhere he doesn’t even bother to remember. But I’ve heard about “tit for tat” for long and decided to give a demo for once. My friend was too nervous to drive back while I was busy inspecting the steal which had a damaged glass. Dear GD, do you remember how you got the glass repaired and crowned me the craziest of all?
Even the one, when two gal friends (mostly broke) hitch-hiked their way from college everyday and saved the money to treat themselves to orange candy bars. And on occasions very few when the University Special bus did ply, stood at the last stepping board of the bus with the rowdy guys. Playing antakshari and singing loudly to add to the woes of the high profile bimbos. Dear R do you remember how the bus driver and ticket collector heaved a sigh of relief when we got down?
Thank you all for your acceptance of my upfront madness. This is an ode to my friends, small yet impressive group of tolerant people whom I’ve embarrassed at many a time. Some I’ve lost touch while others have stuck like a Fevicol. Yet every distance traveled together imprints strongly on my mind. And they continue mailing me with the subject screaming, “Today is my birthday wish ME”.
Ooops…when will I change at all?

SHE AND HER TRIBE

On her marriage she got 101 sarees- the weakness of her tribe
Happy, merry and young
enjoying all the ceremonies
never realizing what was happening-
her age, main culprit- she was simply 12.

When playing was her only occupation
and responsibilities were unknown,
she was tied to the gorgeous drape of 12 yard
“saree” - the only weakness.

As days went by-
basking in the glory of her new found status
enjoying every moment of attention
yet, unaware
after all it was no more her life.

Holding one by one all her possession
beaming with happiness
she wore each one - so typical of her tribe.

Months passed and before she realized,
tragedy struck her door.
Her husband died.
And with him died all colours of her life
so sudden - so unnatural.

Those very 101 sarees became her burden
Only one colour still remained
White - just white.
Accompanied by a whole list of curses, accusations and
the naked eyes of lust.

Since then she greets thousands of deaths
silently- patiently- so very typical of her tribe.

Why grow-up?

I don’t know about you but I was always in a hurry to grow up real fast, like Maggi noodles in straight 2 minutes. If given a choice would prefer to adorn the Bollywood style where the lead actor would sing and dance on his way to adulthood. No books, no studies (read no Maths) and all the freedom to do watch uninterrupted TV. Adulthood was eagerly awaited by me.
And now, when I am all grown-up battling each day in this big bad world. I often ponder, “Gosh! Where was the hurry to grow-up?” And I definitely do miss the good old days when:
A heartbreak meant “missing the-all-so precious Chitrahaar aired only twice a week in Doordarshan”.

A rejection meant “missing the lifetime role of Juliet in the Annual Day English Play because I am taller than the supposedly Romeo and sported the low maintenance boy-cut hairdo which is beyond anything remotely girlie”.

A problem meant “inability to solve the algebra equation in exchange of being granted the permission to watch the 1-hr long Mahabharata, which was roaring its announcement with the blaring volume of the next-door neighbour’s Idiot Box making me go completely numb and dumb”.

Tension meant “disclosing to Dad that I have successfully retained my record of scoring the lowest marks in Maths in the entire class despite his warnings of sending me to Hostel.”

Infatuation meant “head over heels with the brand new Barbie my uncle gifted to me and more importantly none of my friends could claim to own one because it was imported from China”.

Financial stability meant “being able to afford 1 orange bar ice cream (priced at Rs.5) daily and perhaps a rare bhelpuri (priced at Rs.10) once a week.”

An appraisal meant “being promoted as the Class Prefect of a bunch of boisterous lot of whom yours truly was the ring leader and the best political devise utilized aptly by the Class Teacher to keep the class in control.”

Such was life and now years after I miss the simplicity of those old days. Guess I too was simple enough to cherish the precious moments of yester years. Otherwise, who would in their wildest dream wanted to desert the safe haven of innocence and grow up in no time?