Matrimony

Viha was furious with Kabir. They had an argument the previous night and he hadn’t come up to her to apologise yet. “He knows he is wrong. But the idiot won’t come and say a simple sorry!” she mumbled as she came back from the office and started sorting out the things. “This time, I won’t budge” she said to herself while changing her clothes. “Let him worry about the dinner too. Why should I always make all the arrangements?” She shrugged and sat in the living room with a grumpy expression and a book in hand. Too distracted to read,she kept looking at the clock. Kabir should be back any moment now, she thought.

Just then, the door bell rang. With an air and attitude that were last seen with Queen Elizabeth, she opened the door, upped her chin and walked back to her couch with elan.

Looking at her walking back to the couch with all that air, Kabir grinned as he entered the house with a parcel in hand. Pretending not to look, Viha caught the name of her favourite food joint on the carry bag as Kabir placed the parcel on their kitchen counter. Immediately, her anger subsided substantially. Kabir probably had guessed Viha would be too annoyed with him by now and wouldn’t prepare anything for dinner. Also, the hunger would have made her even more angry. Knows me so well, thought Viha rolling her eyes. She always felt annoyed at the way Kabir just knew what would make her tick.

Kabir still had his back to Viha as he asked in a loud voice “ Full Metal Jacket or A Few Good Men?”. Viha felt all her anger melting away but she didn’t want to show that to Kabir yet. Suppressing a smile, she replied in a curt voice “The Departed”. Kabir knew after bringing her favourite food and agreeing to watch a movie of her choice, there was no chance of Viha still being mad at him.

He served the food on their plates and took them to the TV room. “Wine or Vodka?” Asked Viha from the kitchen. “Beer!” Replied Kabir as he synced the fire-stick with the TV.

Still pretending to be angry, Viha came in the room with two beer bottles and sat on the couch. Taking the bottles from her hands, Kabir opened them with his teeth and handed one back to Viha even though she had brought an opener along with her. “I knew you’d do this. Some day, your teeth are going to fall off while opening the bottle” she said. “And then, my dear wifey, we would be drinking wine” said Kabir with a smile as he raised his glass for a toast. Viha couldn’t control any more and giggled as she raised her bottle in Kabir’s direction before taking a sip. And with that , began yet another unplanned and surprisingly blissful evening with her husband.

🍻

Dimensions

“Your mother gives us no space”, complained Aashi as soon as Harsh entered their bedroom. “She doesn’t even have any concept of space! I cant live with her anymore “ she said in an angry irritated voice.

Harsh knew his mother tried to oversee each and every aspect of all the members present in the household from their food to their routine to their clothes to how much they went out. Sometimes, he too felt a bit suffocated but this wasn’t a time to add fuel to Aashi’s fire. “Why can’t you ignore her?” He asked Aashi for the umpteenth time and she replied for the umpteenth time “why can’t you tell her to just back off?”.

Shaking his head, Harsh went into the restroom partly because he wanted to avoid any further confrontations with Aashi and partly because he wanted to be left alone to think of a way out.

Outside their room, an old lady stood listening to the whole episode, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Your husband, your house and now your son are your only responsibilities” she remembered her mother telling her on the day Harsh was born. “Your world shouldn’t be anything but this” had said her mother in law the day she got married. Like an obedient daughter and daughter in-law, she had obeyed. She had been a good wife, a good mother and managed every inch of the household well.

She had been a good runner in school, she loved math but in those days it was difficult for a woman to pursue her dreams. Mrs Rajeev was her identity from the day she got married. Later, it was Bhabhi, Bahu, Ma and now, Dadi. Amidst all these names, she had almost forgotten her own name. Sulekha. No one had called her that since the past many years except for some distant cousins who called her once in a blue moon.

Today, her son was a grown up man. Her daughter in law wanted to manage the household now. The same household which her mother in-law had said is her sole responsibility. Her husband needed her only for laying down the food. What would she be if she let go of the role of a mother, a housekeeper and a wife?

She walked away, wiping her tears… confused.

Two Worlds

Adil was excitedly looking out of the window as the aircraft started its descent. At the age of 7, it was his first visit to India. He had heard so much about the country, its culture, the people that it was hard to sit at one place while his heart was thumping away with the thought of all the adventures he had imagined.

As the aircraft descended further, he could see the coast, the terrain.

“What’s that, Ma?” Asked Adil pointing towards what seemed like a cluster of little matchboxes from the sky. His mother looked down and said “ these are the slums which are around the airport. The authorities should do something about them” she said in an annoyed voice. “These things spoil the view for the visitors looking at the city for the first time”, she continued grumbling. She then stared at the little houses, the all too familiar tin roofed rooms and suddenly remembered the stench of too many people in too little a space. After all, the slums had been her home for many a years. Apart from missing her son whom she had left behind, she didn’t miss anything about her old life and definitely didn’t regret leaving her alcoholic husband. Some day, she would try and contact her son. Iffi, she used to called him lovingly.

Adil pressed his nose against the window glass and tried hard to get a look inside the little “matchboxes”, to get a glimpse of what life looked like inside them. “Another thing to be explored,” he made a mental note.

Irfan had just finished his shift at the local tea stall. At the age of 11, he already had 6 year’s experience of serving tea under his belt. Sweat was dripping down his forehead as he sat outside a tin roofed one room house waiting for his father to wake up from the influence of alcohol and open the door.

Wearing a torn vest and a worn out shorts, he sat outside, waiting, drawing figures in the sand with a stick.

He was very hungry by now but did not dare knock at the door. His father became particularly unpleasant if he was woken up or disturbed.

Suddenly he heard the sound of an aeroplane. Looking up, shielding his eyes from the bright sun rays, he saw the aircraft opening its tires for landing.

He knew an aeroplane carried people from one place to another. Different kind of people, he thought. He was aware that there are two worlds existing in this universe. One in which he lived and the other that he saw every now and then where people laughed, wore clean clothes, never seemed hungry and were never seen covered in muck or sweat.

Suddenly the door behind him opened and he heard his father shouting “Iffi! come inside and cook food for me. You want me to die of hunger? Useless boy!”

Irfan got up hurriedly , forgetting about the aeroplane and started preparing food for his father and himself.

Another day, he thought, taking a deep breath, chopping vegetables and convinced himself that someday, it would be a different kind of a day. Some day, he would be able to touch and feel the other world. Maybe, there he would be able to meet his mother too who his father says had left them for a better world. But today, he just wanted to survive and wanted this day to end fast.

As the plane touched down, Adil enthusiastically unbuckled his seatbelt and hopped out of his seat. Another day! He thought happily and started thinking excitedly about how adventurous his visit would be to this new country. He wanted to explore everything today itself. He just didn’t want this day to end.

Meeting her person

Her plane was about to land. She quickly took out her hairbrush and combed her hair into a neat but stylish high knot. She had to look ravishing as she stepped out of the airport because she knew her whole look would be scrutinised and she wanted to look her best.

Ripped jeans, fitted black fiercely-opinionated-quotation-tee and sneakers was her trademark look. But how she was feeling as a person, mattered the most. The person coming to pick her up would see through the deceptions and would want her to be the bubbly charming self that she usually is.

She picked up her luggage, adjusted her denims by pulling them up a bit (she hated wearing belts ) and took out her favourite pair of wayfarer sunglasses.

Stepping out of the exit, she saw the person who came to receive her looking at her with a smile. To her relief, the person had a satisfied smile on their face.

“Mission accomplished”, she thought happily and hugged the person. Her person.

“Missed you Ma” she said as they both made their way to the waiting car.

My Musings ~ 21

One has to go through fire to be the person that one really is. And only then can a person muster the strength and the ability to accept people as they really are. To reach a point where approvals mean nothing or very less. Where one realises that they are the captain of their own boat and no one is privileged enough to “give” them permissions. To realise they themselves are no one to give any adult a permission, is also an awakening.

It takes courage to go south when the world is going north. It takes a strong person to realise that it’s okay to be different. It takes a stronger person to realise that its okay to be with someone who is a helluva different than what they themselves are.

In relationships, often one sees insecurities, fear of the unknown, partner trying desperately to not expose the other person to things which might change them resulting in a change in their equation in the marriage or in the relationship.

I read an article a few days ago about how a husband manipulated his wife into having kids, being a dependent so that she doesn’t go out to work and doesnt have a career.

If a relationship doesn’t help you to achieve your goals, to become a better person, to reach out to your ambitions, then that relationship is not of equals. What’s happening there is, one person is trying desperately to control and condition the other person so that the power remains in one person’s hands.

If we are in a relationship, it should be for the person that s/he is. Not for the circumstances that the other person is in. The soul, the raw reality of people, their free spirit, their independence, if all this scares someone, if someone tries to control all this for the partner, then they are not equals and care for the circumstances more than the actual person.

Why are so many men scared when they imagine their wives going out to work? Why does ambition and dreams and independence scare so many of us?

Why is control and love made synonymous in relationships? Two people can be madly crazily and eternally be in love with each other without trying to exert an iota of control over each other.

But, this requires confidence, equality and strength of character. This requires another level of consciousness where love is more important than control, where respect for human beings is more important than being dominant, where true relationships matter more than prerequisites.

Lets have the strength to be true to ourselves and to the person we are with. For its the person that lives and breathes and becomes an integral part of us, not the circumstances or the conditioning.

Cheers.

My Musings ~ 20

Life is the best teacher that we have. People come and go. For as long as we are, life is. What’s important in the journey called life, is to keep evolving. Keep trying to reach a level of higher consciousness. Keep trying to find out who we are, what is our purpose in this universe? How do we see ourselves?

When we think of ourselves, we often see us from a distance. How we see, what image we see is exactly what we aspire to be or looked at by the world.

A person could have an image of her/him getting out of a swanky car, wearing top notch branded clothes and wearing the most expensive watch. Why does a person see himself/herself in this image? To be the envy of others is my guess. To show the world what s/he has achieved.

Achievements that need the approval of the society, sadly often are in context to other’s failures.

In my opinion, true success would make you a better person, a humble human being and a modest living organism.

Imagine you. A tiny dot on a planet called Earth. Imagine that dot on a planet which is a part of a solar system. Imagine hundreds of more solar systems. Imagine a galaxy consisting of all this. Imagine a million more galaxies consisting of much more than what’s in our own little Milky Way. Now imagine that dot in context to this image.

When I think of myself in this context, I feel minuscule. A nobody. A fragile invisible dot on a rotating planet in a solar system in a galaxy.

The magnitude of the unknown. Imagine the forces we are nothing in front of. That’s how much we matter in the universe.

It’s better to spend a life understanding the universe, urselves and trying to do good rather than trying to be seen and acknowledged by those who themselves don’t know their purpose.

As we sail through life, life hits us back. With force, with love, with frustrations but always with choices.

What we choose, how we choose, what we prioritise in life and what we expect is all a matter of choice.

The power and strength to not conform to anything or anyone is in each one of us. Its a dormant seed often missing out on the opportunity to sprout for lack of a suitable environment.

When we start questioning life and our own decisions and our own “needs”, we actually start thinking what is important in life, what is not and what all we have been doing for others and not for our own peace.

Being your own self and owning it, is what our consciousness screams for. Asking ourselves the questions which we have been ignoring for a long while, identifying the wrongs we have believed in and finally becoming our own person.

Why do we need a particular thing? Say a watch. A watch could be any but why do we aspire or yearn for a particular model? For a particular brand? Who are we trying to show the things to? What are we trying to prove in the process? And if we do manage to pull people towards ourselves by the presence of money or material things, are those people really on our side? Is that “respect” that they are giving us or its just a prerequisite for being acceptable?

Any relationship, any friendship that I have in my life which is not unconditional, is something that I have but definitely don’t need. Also it has zero value as far as contributing to my life goes. My daughter doesn’t love me because I wear a particular brand or because I have money. She loves me and hopefully would continue to love me if I am a good human being and can take good care of her and shower her with unconditional love. Same goes goes for the people close to me. And i love living my life in presence of these people.

De-cluttering my life, thats what I have been upto lately. Asking questions, finding purpose, respecting and valuing people who are genuine, admiring the miracles of life and simply living.

What for would i need so many contacts for? Those who care, would reach out to me. Those i love, i would reach out to. Its a two way street. De cluttering from the extras in my life is whats giving me peace. Not caring about people and notions and norms that do not have a positive influence on me given me a chance to breathe better.

After all, my first responsibility is to myself. If i nurture myself, if i evolve, if I identify the real things in life and not the glitters that blind the sight, only then can I become a genuine person, a genuine daughter, a genuine friend. Only then can I be true to myself and be in harmony with what I am and the life I choose to live.

Little karma following me

Motherhood sweeps you off your feet. Its that tingly feeling you get in your heart when you feel your love pouring out of you. When you hold your child for the first time, its magical and you suddenly leave behind your old temper and self and step into a world of infinite love and affection.

True? Naah. At least not in my case!

Motherhood didn’t hit me at any particular moment. The love for my child didn’t erupt at any particular moment. My heart did melt but not at any particular moment. I became a mother. And that had nothing to do with crossing a threshold.

To be honest, it was a process. A process that started with wanting to be a mother, being nervous, uncertain, a little excited and slowly finding my footing in this new world.

There are too many opinions floating around these days about how ideally a mother should be like, what is an ideal “mother-behaviour “ (as if its a thing) , how a mother should react and absurdly enough, how a mother should feel.

So when a mother doesn’t “feel” as per the given standards of feelings, there’s a society imposed guilt trip that follows.

What people forget is, mothers are individuals too. While everyone talks about how mothers should sacrifice, adjust, give up on a lot of things in life, what they miss is, its all a choice and not a guide book by which every mother can be judged.

So here are some of the things, that happened in my life which didn’t go quite as per the uptight standards of acceptable “motherhood”.

1. That pregnancy glow.

A lot of women glow during their pregnancy. Pregnancy brings about a dewy glow to the skin. That’s what I had heard. Only, the glow that I had on my face was of light bulb sized pimples and good lord, they did glow!

2. The urge to eat pickles.

We have grown up on Bollywood movies where once the woman has an aachar in hand, its a sure shot sign that she is expecting. It might be true for a lot of women out there but, I had two cravings. Just two. Dark hazelnut chocolates and red meat.

3. The scene in the OT

I had a c section. I feel blessed that I had it. My baby was a breech. I didn’t go into labour. I didnt dilate. So when my kid finally popped out of me, after hearing her cry and knowing the gender, I slept. Not because I was tired from the labour but because I hadn’t slept comfortably since the past 2 months. So, I slept in the OT. While they were stitching me up. And i snored. An intern of my OB Gyn nudged me giggling and asked, “did you just doze off?” And I replied “Yep!” And promptly slept again.

4. Breastfeeding

No documentary, no prep talk, no counselling does justice to the absolute confusion that occurs right after the delivery. I kept saying the lactation has not started, the nurses kept coming in and pressing the breasts to check, the shame and the shyness associated with the bosom left my life at that point.

5. Post Hospital saga

For 2- 2.5 months I was a sleep deprived zombie. I was so desperate to do anything besides breastfeeding and sitting on the bed that I offered my mother to chuck the maid out, keep me to do her household chores. She refused, of course. But, I was that desperate.

6. The unnecessary inflow of gyaan

There would be people giving unnecessary advices is what i had anticipated. But, the influx would be of such a magnitude, I had never ever imagined. From how to breastfeed, to unsolicited advice about what position to feed in, to sleep when the baby sleeps (not practical at least in my case), to using which oil for massage to what an absolute sin it is to give top feed to the baby to everything.

7. Post settling in

After settling in, I joined back my work in 6 months and because of the way my genetics are and the lifestyle I had always followed, I shed my pregnancy weight within 2-3 months. I had no idea how both these things are such a looked-down upon aspects of being a mother. Working moms seem to be the synonym for not being a good mom and shedding the weight simply means a female is too figure conscious and basically, doesn’t eat well. In other words, she diets. Haaaw!

8. The meme worthy life

Once i settled into the grid of being a mother, a working mother, an independent female that i always was, just when I thought I have managed things well, boom! The baby starts walking ! With that, the baby starts imitating. No one tells you that having a kid is like having your karma constantly following you. Dropped a grape and ate it anyway? Look behind! The kid would be doing the same to her food now. Came from the office and tossed the shoes beneath the sofa? Ha! Lookie look! The kiddie footwear is beneath the beds and sofa now! Like taking selfies? The kid would be posing with a TV remote now thinking it would too click pictures. Like watching Netflix before dozing off? Well, the kid knows. Just knows there’s Baby Shark Do Do Do Do Do Do song on YouTube. Just like baby turtles know where the sea is, the kids know their rights. And your wrongs. Hence, thats Karna wrapped in your own DNA!

9. And she spoke!

My daughter started blabbering, then calling me mummy then went on to say papa, then said .. well.. Joota ( she loves her shoes as much as she loves mummy and daddy), she also says a lot of things now that she randomly hears. So now we communicate in spellings. I wish I could participate in the spelling bee now. Anyhow.

10. Taking a dump alone is a luxury

Besides all this, no one tells you how sometimes you are going to simply need some time to just stare at a wall and be. How shitting alone is a luxury because now the spy is constantly on a lookout for all your activities and closing the door while the kid is outside is an impossibility. I have taken a dump while my daughter is sitting on my lap a dozen times.

All this happens, a lot more would happen. I know what hitting the teenage feels like. I remember what a storm I was during that phase. I know the havoc i created in my parent’s lives. And i know that time too would come. But,as it is said, change is the only constant in life. The other day while I was complaining and telling my mother how I don’t get any me-time, she smiled and replied : kids grow up. Before you know, she wont be needing you so much and then you are going to miss this time.

The way she said it, it was a little wistful. Made me think. from constantly wanting to be physically around the mother to being a grown up making own decisions and leading own life, does the transformation hurt? How does the mothers cope up? Empty nest syndrome, isn’t it?

Nothing gives me more joy than being around my child. Nothing tires and drains me out more than being around my child. Both the things are true to the core.

When someone asked me a few days ago how has motherhood been treating me, I couldn’t give a one line answer. I just smiled. Motherhood isn’t a single feeling. Its a mixture of millions of feelings and thoughts.

When I speak with friends who aren’t parents yet and they seek answer to when is the right time to have kids, I just say one thing. Have a kid when you feel is the right time. Not when your parents want, not when your careers are at a particular stage, not when only one partner wants it, don’t listen to the infamous lines : just have a kid and we will look after it. Because, no one can feed,smile, live and breathe for your child. Have a kid when you are ready so that when the above 10 point check list happens in your life, you know it was your own decision and can find humour in the situation, identity the infinite love you are capable of feeling and laugh the blues away.

My Musings ~ 19

September 5th has always been a special day in my life. The memory of going to school in casuals, preparing teacher’s day speech, feeling generally happy coming to school in a saree and acting as teachers, trying to act all grown up and wise, not having a clue who the actual teachers are in life.

As life happened, the craze this day had subsided drastically. Maybe because of a subtle but rude realisation that its not only the teachers in schools and colleges that teach us, its actually everyone that we come across that teaches us something. Anything, but something.

My friends taught me the meaning of friendship, my parents taught me to see, question and to be an informed logical person, the people I met in my life taught me the meaning of love, trust. Absolute strangers taught me the meaning of empathy and patience.

Cutting to the bigger picture, each and every person that has ever touched my life in any manner has taught me something. We are not what we are in isolation. We pick up things, habits, ideas, mannerisms, principles as we swim in the high and low tides of life.

Whatever someone taught us, be it love or hate, trust or betrayal, empathy or hurt, has shaped us. It has at least shaped me as a person.

A person might have been wonderful or simply awful but in both the cases, these people put a little piece of us that merges with our image.

This day, is not only for teachers, for parents, for people who taught us life lessons. This day is for those who have met us even for a second and did something to our wiring.

5th September for a lot of reasons would always be a sombre day for me. Remembering the childhood shenanigans, remembering this day when I was in 12th and wore a saree for the first time, remembering this day in 2009 and what someone taught me about life and so many other things that shaped me.

Cheers to all who are in my life. And thank you for making me… me.

Just dont have the heart.. yet

My daughter has an infectious smile

The one she flashes at strangers every time we cross one

I just dont have the heart yet to tell her not to.

My little girl waves at anyone who she makes an eye contact with

I just dont have the heart yet to tell her not to.

My chirpy little thing shows passersby her new pair of silver anklets

And i just dont have a heart yet to tell her not to.

My gleeful bundle swirls and shows anyone who cares her new dresses and also points to their fancy details

I just dont have a heart yet to tell her not to.

She smiles, she waves, she laughs, she swirls

All with such raw happiness

That i dont have a heart yet to tell her not everyone she comes across is worthy of her gaze.

Her giggles are what make me lift her off her feet and kiss her till her cheeks turn red

Amidst her playful laughter, I just dont have the heart yet to warn her about the ugliness the world also holds.

I cant forever hold my baby in my arms

I cant forever whisk her away from troubles and give her a tight snuggly hug

I cant forever stare and scare away people who mean no good to her

I know she has to understand the world on her own

And for that i have to warn her about the good the bad and the ugly that it holds

I just dont have the heart to break that giggle and start telling her that yet.

Till then,

Let me be the rude one who says no to strangers when they come a little too close to her.

Let me be the unpleasant one who holds off people from giving her a hug.

Let me be the one suspecting everyone of the worse

And let my girl skip away in pigtails for a little while longer

For i just dont have the heart to tell her.. yet.