Woes of a Woman and Rains

This is my favorite time of the Year. Why, because it Rains this time and I love them. They bring out in me a rigmarole of numerous emotions; love, lust, passion, creativity and above all a voice to all my feelings which go unsaid and unheard throughout the year. Listening to drumming rain sing its tip-tap song while beating itself on roof tops ignites all that had laid latent. The fires of course having changed the color and form over my growing period.

While as a kid rains meant communal showers and paper boats now they mean lot more deeper and emotional. Rains to me now are akin a woman, soothing, calming and life giving. Women are to the world what the first drops of gentle rain are to the parched earth. When modest they protect, save and nurture. No one wishes for an uncontrolled, torrential and wild specimen of either though what a sight to behold they would present when thus.

Is it the weather or just a co incidence, I suddenly find myself surrounded by lot of news, audio and visual on issues pertaining to women. It all stirred up with Indira Nooyi's confessions of 'Women can't have it all'. Since then it has been a high tide. Stories, videos, podcasts about women vehemently supporting or opposing Nooyi have flooded the media and brains. I believe what she meant by her now infamous confession was that women have to make a choice at lot of junctures. This is absolutely true. I have been fortunate enough to grow in the  company of women who have been quiet successful in their own rights and have battled it out with elan. They all are thriving examples of different genres of fight with the society be it living single and independent, walking out of troubled marriages and staying happy, leading life on their own terms post marriages or deciding to choose careers over anything else. Indian society does make it difficult for women and that is exactly the point. Why not men? No, I am not a supporter of the sexist anti men movement but I do have a critical viewpoint on the condition of women in India. A single man will lovingly be cajoled amidst a group of aunties on choosing the right woman and taking his own sweet time. Whereas a woman by her own parents will be chided every now often and coaxed on getting hitched as soon as possible. Why the discrimination? It is women who make the society, it is women who make men, it is women who make the world worth living and yes, women do not rape either. Then why is the society still so anti women. We might have made several laws over the years to protect women but in reality nothing has moved. All women however educated have to face a discrimination at some point. A subtle case in point be that of the duties expected of a daughter in law. Well, what about the son in law. Why was not he traded for an equal role.

There are women who have risen above all and decided to live a life straight out of their hearts but such women are not held in very high esteem in the society. The onus to change lies solely with the women. No body else will ever learn a lesson if not us. Women need to get out and live life on their own terms pleasing none other but their hearts. I would rather sum this up with one similar example quoted to me by my mother. "Whatever milestones you achieve in your career, what would matter is if you can make your chapatis round". Who said I could not keep a Maharaj :)

What Three Verbs and Three Adjectives best describe you?

My friends, enough of me and my thoughts. Today's question is all about YOU, because.....I wish to know more of you. So let's hear it.


WHAT THREE VERBS AND THREE ADJECTIVES BEST DESCRIBE YOU


Come on shower me with your answers.....waiting.

Neighbors on Prowl

If there ever was one community of people I have always been apprehensive about, it is the NEIGHBORS.  They come in such shapes and sizes putting the Creator to shame. They can be a blessing in disguise or a pain in the right place. Singles like me are more prone to their misfortunes and blessings.  Handling the neighbor is nothing less than a full time effort which needs lot of backend support. Hence single occupants are always at a loss in ‘mending wall’.

My neighbors so far have never had any problems with me. God fearing individual that I am, I strictly abide by what the bible tells us. It says love thy neighbors and love thy enemies. Little did it know the terms can be used interchangeably.

While my neighbors have been at peace with me, I am afraid I can’t say the same about them. *SIGH* I have had some noteworthy incidents with them.

During my growing up days, my parents were exemplary specimen of social artwork. They made the world look like one huge family and this family cost us kids dear. In the absence of my parents, this extended family voluntarily took to our upkeep and maintenance. One fine day I decided to give them all a run and host my friends for a nocturnal jamboree. I told my friends to sneak in at 11PM when all would be dead. Poor things parked kilometers away and walked those extra miles. No sooner had they laid their hands on the gate my otherwise languid drowsy dog started howling at the top pitch. My poor friends ran as if in a Marathon. Somebody on a nightly chore would have definitely mistaken them for robbers. As for my dog, he had partnered with the community for few bones. Whatever happened to loyalty and faithfulness?

Couple of years back I shifted to Gujarat for my professional commitments. Whoever has been to this part of the world will vouch that Gujratis do not mingle much outside the community. I lived in a Gujrati locality. Prima facie the elderly aunties seemed harmless blessing me with smiles and ‘kemcho’ during evenings. No sooner I experienced what Jane Austen famously said, “Every man is surrounded by a neighborhood of voluntary spies”.  Their smiles were just a façade to fish out events from my life to spice up their daily kitties. One of the old farts was a puffed up, vainglorious, full of herself relic who would invite me purposely for displaying her state of the art facilities.  So skeptical I became of all those aunties that I absolutely stopped bothering about doorbells unless it was the secretly coded pattern of the bell which only my close ones shared.  

I can yap endlessly on the numerous such incidents that have transpired since my childhood and  have all had their share of sorts in making me a recluse that I am today. One of the most important lessons I have learnt while renting out is, “Either do as your neighbors say or move away”.

Well, hold on, my doorbell is ringing. Guess it’s my movers and packers guy. Yup, you got it right….I am moving away. J

Refugee for Life

This belongs to a time when I was learning life as such. It was Delhi and the summers there. While doing my internship I had nothing much to do on Sundays and other offs. Having heard a lot about Delhi University and the life it saw every Sunday it used to be my hangout.

It was one such Sunday when I saw a young feeble girl crouched over what looked like a mass of handwritten papers strewn all around. I was drinking tea and with no one to give me company I decided to offer her. She instantly accepted. Her name was Rezah. Over innumerable glasses of tea I learnt she was a Bangladeshi Refugee who like thousands of them had crossed the border along with her mother. With no source of income she had taken up this writing of various forms. Later in the day she took me home to meet her mother. It was anything but home. A worn out charpoy was the only fixed asset of this shack. Her mother must have been in her early 60s. Frail on the body but definitely not at heart, she welcomed me with a warm hug as if a long lost daughter.

Once with them it was difficult to believe life in such ruthless terms. They told me refugees do not exist, for either of the governments. They do not have any rights, whatsoever. Well, so much for the government taking measures to improve the quality of life. They were, just the two of them for each other. I have always thought that to be the worst punishment ever inflicted on any soul. An over populated universe with no one to share your existence with. Whether it was sympathy or the warmth they became my family for sure. I used to join them whenever I could with all three of us eating together and talking about what mattered to us. 3 months flew by like this when one day I reached the shack to see the mother daughter duo curled up in a corner with tears streaming down their faces. They opened up to my questions after what seemed like an hour long comforting. Some barbarians at the campus had plundered her honor while she was returning home. As if that were not sufficient she was beaten mercilessly. I was shocked beyond belief. These incidents are a distant reality till they come time checking at your door.  Such surrendered were they to their destinies that these hospitals, police stations were not meant for them. Asking for help was only increasing the agonies.  I was appalled at this wretchedness of life. For the first time probably and the hard way it jolted through me. Yes, it was different. They lived but they did not exist. The entire documentation of states and governments had failed to earn them a life. I cringed at this brutal joke that was cracked at their expense.

After giving them medicines and food, of whatever bare they could eat, I headed home. Invariably I was only pilferaging their sorrows which they wanted to hold dear. For the next couple of days I could not muster the courage to meet them. When I finally went there a week later I found the mother alone. Her face was a torment of emotions with tears having dried in their pursuit of endless streaming. She handed me a letter. I opened the letter with a quivering heart, Rezah had decided to end her struggle in life. She no longer wanted to be at the mercy of this territorial divide. How, where, she did not mention. All it said in the end was to take care of her mother, if possible. My brain stopped functioning, my senses grew numb. I had to hold on to the charpoy to keep steady. From the distance I could hear her mother requesting her whereabouts, asking why she had not returned home from last 3 days,  what was to happen to her as if she had already realized Rezah was not meant to return. I had no answers. Guilt weighed heavy on my heart. I might have been able to save her life had I given her my comforting shoulder, a ear to hear and not run away like a coward. Was that too much to bargain for a life. I stayed overnight with her mother, though neither of us spoke. Perhaps we were both trying to sort our destinies. As the sun rose, I made her tea and sought her permission to step out for some time to buy stuff for the house and apply for leaves in my office. Not daring to look into her eyes, I made my way out.

Once out I smelled the sun. Was it a different day or was my mind too fogged to care. I wandered aimlessly for around an hour trying to clear my mind. It must have been late afternoon when I decided to head back. I reached home... to a vacant charpoy. I looked around but in vain. I sat in the house cursing myself for hours but the last occupant of the shack did not return. My mind reverberated with the pleas of Rezah. To the letter she had bound me to, her mother had sought liberation, for I could not locate the letter anywhere. Was it relief that was flowing through my body as I latched the door. I could not decide what described me better....Insensitive or Practical.

To this day I think of Rezah and thousands like her. We fight for water, electricity, housing and they.....merely to be acknowledged.

Letter to my love

Dear B

 

This day every year, I talk to you, I write to you and I apologize to you. Because I could not fulfill my promise of a life time commitment and no other guilt bogs me down as heavily as this.

 

The days we spent together are still fresh as morning dew. I remember when I first met you vividly enough for a movie to be playing in front. Actually it was your brother I saw first, calm and controlled. I could instantly identify with him being the eldest. I thought it was responsible of him to keep an eye on all of you. And while I was busy shaking hands with him, you quietly sneaked in and started nibbling on my toe. Your playfulness struck its chord with me instantly. You were everything I did not want - Impish, mischievous and unruly. You looked up, straight in my eyes and the decision was made. You were coming home. 

  

 No sooner had you entered the house, all hell broke loose. My parents were still recovering from the sight of you whilst you attacked mum's favorite plant and unearthed it. That marked the beginning of disquiet and unsettling. Daily my day would begin with your complains. Sometimes it was dad's favorite shoe, at other it would be mum's garden, yet ahead would be common interests like remotes, clothes, mobiles and the list was endless. But I loved you and it grew fonder and deeper. I could not bear the sight of loosing you. My social life was instantly cut off since the only thing I wanted was to be close to you. I started hating all those who showed reluctance towards accepting you. But I knew one day you would triumph all hearts. The day came soon. Mum was not well. I was running helter skelter for her medicines, food. Like a true family you did not get up from her bed side with eyes constantly monitoring her every movement. Your eyes showed every bit of helplessness and concern over her illness. You did not eat neither did you sleep. Nothing could have been more joyous for me than the sight of mum patting you. My tears of joy streamed down seeing you happy. We had won the battle. There was no looking back thereafter. The complains stopped and they were replaced by admiration, participation and blind adoration.

 

Not sure if you ever realized how my parents and sister became your parents and sister. Kids started addressing us by your name. Oh what pride swelled my heart. How you would not stand any competition. You demanded all love and attention. No wonder toddlers and you did not get along. And your brave heartedness.....although you were petrified of everything that walked on fours, you would not let anyone close to me. I was yours and yours alone.

 

Years turned into days and flew by with wings. I can never forget the day when that ghastly fatal disease seized you. I thought it was just another bout of self retrospection that you often indulged in by refusing to eat and play. It struck me so late and so hard. You were dying. You were being snatched away in bits and pieces. No amount of medical attention could save you. Your agony was killing me. You cut away from all of us not wanting to trouble any more. When accidently our eyes  met all they had was plea. Oh B, that sight haunts me till date, the remorse bites into me every day. Not a day goes by when I don't ask god for a private meeting with you. I wish to apologize to you in person. I want you to know that my love for you was beyond births and beyond life. Deciding to let you go was the toughest decision I ever made or will make in future. Please know that I did not choose to end your life, I chose to end your pain and suffering. It is very difficult for people who love when they know there is nothing they can do to lessen it. I did not desert you, I liberated you. I wanted to liberate myself too in that spur of moment for there was nothing after you. But I chose to live and keep your musings fresh and strong in my heart.

 

Bosco, you are missed every single moment of my life. And if it gives you comfort, please learn I will never love any one more than you.

Always yours
P














 

The loose threads

It must have been around midnight when her phone rang,"Richa" the voice on the other end boomed. It took her just one fleeting second to travel back 25 years in time. It was him, there was no mistaking her name in his voice.

 

She was in the most prestigious business school of Ranchi and so was he. The first time she saw him, he was an arrogant, rich boy used to being admired and pampered. She would usually sit behind him in the class and keep looking at him, not very sure why. For him she was any other girl. The only time she saw the admiration in his eyes was on receiving the 'Best Student' award. But then every pair of eyes in the class was no different then. Time flew and they graduated. Post the convocation she was amazed when he went and shook hands with her and pushed this paper amidst her fingers. How long the journey to home had been for she could not wait to read it. Once home she locked herself inside her room and eagerly opened it.

"Dear Richa, If it were not today it were to be never. I have always admired you as this simple girl whose sole aim in life is to excel. Your grit and determination surprise me every day. All this while I was afraid, afraid to loose your admiration, afraid to loose your seat behind me, afraid to loose those fleeting glances, afraid to say I love you. If you have ever loved me please meet me tonight in the college campus." Not sure if yours...Anand.

 

Duffer, stupid, silly she muttered under her breath. She wanted to curse him longer when her mother knocked on the door. "The boy I spoke to you about is coming tomorrow beta, be prepared." No, she could not exchange the defined for the abstract. It was best to leave the water calm. She neatly folded the letter and stacked it amongst her books.

 

25 Years later......there was no mistaking the voice. "Richa, I saw you at the alumni, you have not changed a bit. Still the same grit and determination. Why did not you meet me". "I had to leave early." I could not bear to see the dead face that was once so naughty and proud, she thought. "Well, I heard of your divorce," he managed. "Some things are not meant to be", she said matter of factly. "Let's meet tomorrow for dinner before we fly out, I worked hard to take your number from the organizers. You owe me this time." She thought for a while, after all she had nothing to loose. They had come off the age.

 

Dinner was a merry affair with both of them laughing over the past and how they wished life took on a different tangent for both of them. He told her how he was stuck in a dead marriage with nothing more than responsibilities tying his wife and him together. She talked of her failed marriage and two sons who meant more than anything to her. They lost track of time until the manager came and requested them to leave since it was closing time. They walked out and amidst all conversations

headed towards the beach. The conversation until the wee hours of morning was the best they both had in their recent pasts. It required no effort, no articulation. It was as if they understood each other's silence better than the words. For them this conversation was the sole way to catch up for all that they had lost in these years. With every fleeting minute there was this innate desire to rediscover last 25 years. They talked and talked. They walked and walked. And then he held her hand. He brought them to his lips when she pulled it away. "You are repeating History", he said. "I am living the present", she said, "You are married and nothing can change that". She looked beyond the horizon, it was dawn time and she could see the sun rising. "But I will wait for you", she looked at the light around her. He was once again amazed at her grit and determination.

What to Expect when you are Expecting

Do not be amazed at the title of the blog. This has been happening with me for the past couple of days and I have been thinking of it a lot. 

 No No.....it is definitely not what you all are expecting. And that exactly is the content of the blog this time. 

 I am a firm believer in life without expectations. Have been living like that for quite some years now and the arrangement suits me just fine. The best benefit of the system is that by not expecting anything from anyone, I snatch the vice versa rights from them too. Not that it works every time but gives me an upper hand the least.  

They say Old habits die hard. This one however betrayed me in the mid life. Off late I have cravings. Cravings to expect and cravings to see them fulfilled. Needless to say it is troubling me terribly. "Aasha is the foundation for Niraasha", I am re learning the hard way now. I was infamous as someone who was happy in her own world and did not care for anything around. 

However I can justify myself very well in the wake of all these expectations. It is just so easy and tempting to expect. I expect my sister to lend a hand in household chores because of the simple reason that she lives with me. I expect my mother to give me gifts simply because she has been doing that for ages. I expect my best friends to call me every week because I call them too, I expect people to compliment me because I think I look good, I expect... and continue expecting so on and so forth. What I am trying to cover up is that my expectations are not out of the league. They are plain human, humble anticipations that certain things are meant to happen. 

Despite of all my positivity and hopefulness things are just not happening. And that is the cause of my misery. The reason for sharing this with all of you is what you are rightly expecting :) Guide me through...I want my old self back. No frills, no expectations.

By the way...before I sign out...what were you expecting from the blog :)