It’s big word..trust me!

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The biggest word,in my dictionary, (which I confess has only simple words :-)), is the word “trust”. Infact, its  the most dense, with a lot of  intrinsic meaning, and is worthy of giving it some serious deliberation. I m sure  that the amount of meaning the word signifies  cannot be detailed in any Websters of the world.  This word originates from the time of birth, and seeps into our blood cells all by itself.

As soon as the first cry of hunger is uttered, it generates several molecules of trust into our blood stream. The result is the “trust” that the mother would satisfy the hunger of the  new-born.  Then, the trust clings to the father as well.  The child trusts that the father is the supreme protector.  The child grows enough feather to  feel the outside world where he meets  several others but develops a “trust” in a few friends as his own, as partners in good and bad. After some time, the attraction to the opposite sex drives him/her to  trust someone who  becomes the natural partner. Now, everything from here till one’s end is based on “trust”. Sometimes, this is so glorious that it can make life a bed of roses and till the end, the “trust” keeps you upswing, happy, content to enjoy every moment of life, come what may! Real trust lasts a life-time, stands by you in some form to hold you upright in the most testing times, and can be felt deep inside.

Yet sometimes, “Trust” is mistaken, pampered, adulterated, altered, taken for granted,  to satisfy one’s own motives, needs.  Infact sometimes, “Trust” misleads, blinds you from inside and you do not realise the basis of so much of overdose till you arrive at a dead-end. 

Infact, if you attach some more thought i this direction, you will perhaps agree that “trust” itself is very a tricky and intelligent word. If there is really a well-meaning “trust” then it should only be  something which lets you be what you are, live for yourself, live by yourself wholly, without demanding you to be  a good this, a good that! (apply as required:-))  We should be the moderators of the “trust” factor within us, about what, who, why, how much and when this should come into picture.  The minute it gets spilt over like dirty wine, overflowing from a good-looking glass is when you realise that someone else was moderating the “trust” factors for you, and actually you never felt it yourself. Then, you keep getting tempted till you taste it for yourself, realise it was murky, and break the beautiful glass for no fault of it!   Trust me !!!

Same questions, different answers

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I dont know how else to explain this phenomenon. Read on and nod along if this happens at your home, all the time:-)

6:30 am: come, have your milk both of you.

Dudu: Ma, give it to me in a cup(he has one special, no one can touch)

Ashi: tumbler and davara

8am: what do you want for lunch?

Dudu: veg rice,less veg or tomato rice less tomato

Ashi: chapathi, one cheesed, one veg

3pm: Did you finish the lunch at school?

Dudu: no chance. you put too many veg

Ashi:  i finished, why so less cheese ma?

5pm: what happened in school today?

dudu: oh? nothing much. History  teacher put us to sleep

Aashi: You know wat, teju’s mom is unwell, her dad made lunch. Tushar’s bday today and yet he was having a tiff with the math teacher. Princi made announcements about some prizes for seniors today. Shailaja miss told me that I have grown taller. I hate my best friend, mom! Aishu is better really…

 stoppp!!! :-(.. ok, have your evening tiffin and milk

Dudu: Dosa with sambar or chutney. no.. tomato sauce

Ashi: For me Dosa with cheese.., little milagai podi( chilli powder ), pls no sambar

There is some chocolate in the fridge

Dudu: i want the white bar

Ashi: ehh.i want only (brown) chocolate

Do you have some homework?

Dudu: I want to do some painting:-).  dont ask me read books to improve my..watever

 

 

Ashi: i want to read my comic. I dont want to draw that diagram in my science book:-(

Ok, now what do you want to have for dinner?

Dudu: ma, anything..watever ..curd rice, with curd:-)

Ashi: ma, noodles? no no, pasta, no something else?

– poor mommy!

Dear Son…

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Happy Birthday to you, my dear one

You are mine, my dearest, my own!

 

The day we first met in the outside world,

I knew this was indeed very special

I felt something which no mother would have felt

I knew you would grow me into a mother, child!!!

 

Thank you, dear one, for being my son,

You are mine, my own, my life-time blessing!

 

-your mother!

 

Its in the genes, I guess!!!

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My little girl, though now 8 years old, not sounding any little by the way, does exactly what little girls will be doing  at her age, and a little more!!!

 I remember sticking up posters in the so called “my room” as a teenager, including George Michaels, Tom cruise, Aamir and Salman of yesterdays, while my elder sister in her later teens pinned up Ravi sastry, and mind you, no where near my area!!! Either she felt I was too much carried away by some external influences at school as I had hardly understood Hollywood movies or hardly listened to GM except… when I visited my friend’s place. That was enough for a teenager, wasn’t it?  Anyway, Ravi sastry, according to her must have sounded more down to earth, “veryvery Indian andvery very cool”( remember the suzuki samurai ad those days???) Anyway, its a different story that she confessed recently that I introdurced her to the first ever English songs in our lives..( Last night I dreamt of San pedro..) Eppidi??(howz that???)

Coming back to the present generation(!), my little one seems to be on a perpetual poster ottifying(sticking) spree and has covered her almirah(good old godrej storewell, which she has comfortably vacated me out of!)with a collection of her short sweet write-ups, “I cant draw well like him” sounding drawings, messages for the world like save earth and water and ofcos, her hearthrobs of the season, Sinshan, Hanuman and Chota Bheem pictures all over it. She can never settle for one as her favourite from the three, btw(LOL!!!).

 One more inheritance from my sister and myself( i.e genes) that she has shown promising pride is the art of writing poems.   Im sure, as my 11 year old son rightly points out..” By now, tinkle will close shop for the number of poems and “never-short” stories this little lady brat seems to be uploading on to their site”

The little one would just not bother but relentlessly does what she wants to be doing.  All in the genes, eh? I can see my sister smile with me:-)

 

Trying to make both ends meet..

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It has always been ” kallai kanda naya kanum” situation( either find the dog or the stone but not both) status for me with my laptop and my thoughts!  I make the most of it when I get a chance! So now, let me sit down and tie up the two!

And finally! I made time to visit a number of blogspots related to indian women and found it gratifying that i have an entire batallion sailing in the same ship, with same thought process and wavelengths as I do. Not  saying that mine is too high above the sky, but it seems only fair to know that a whole lot of people are like you and that gives the privilege of belonging to “normal”or “average”  category. I have come to some conclusions  based on my miniscule research of ” how to live an Indian wife’s life”. The research is also post some gyan I extracted after a close-to -counselling session with my best friend for almost 27 years now! Thats pretty “best”, ya, i know:-) good for us, touch wood!!!

Summary:

An Indian Wife has to necessarily have the following skillset:

She should know where to say hers was a “love marraige” and where to say “arranged marraige”respite the fact that there is no big deal or difference once” its” all done deal(LOL!!!)

Prepare herself to answer questions from different angels as to why she has not.. “borne a fruit”, “puzhu poochi”..in the first few years explaining the techniques  of family planning to a few merciless (shameless, actually)aunties, who by then would have yeilded enough fruits, and resemble heavy weight champions :-). In return, they give free tips on how and why it is necessary to have kids even before you get to know your hubby dear fully well!

The next episode is “lullaby time” and its attached threads. The Indian wife is supposed to feel like having received” lifetime achievement award” for having been born a woman as she delivers the “fruit”. Now, is the toughest challenge.  She is supposed to be adept in knowing where to say ” I know” and “I dont know” as far as childcare is concerned. If she reads, attends counselling, good enough to get her a degree in child psychology, child care and nutrition, she has to still say ” i dont know” or just receive free gyan from the senior citizens. If she says she knows something more, she is penalised under sec. 123 of  Indian wife statutory requirement Act(!), and accused of being “oversmart”, “attitude problem”, “thimiru” by the in-laws and extended family. At this point in time, she should not even think about pursuing her career or ambitions, as being a mother is her foremost role & responsibility.  Incase, in this period, the “fruit” falls sick, then it is attributed only to her negligence, not enough feeding, not enough care and cocentration.  The champion aunties dutifully visit to check on the “fruit’s” development only to say ” why is he so weak?”

She should know how to deal or coach her children(any syllabus), fill them with tution classes in whichever subject required, extra curricular classes(pick up and drop included by two wheeler, with one child standing in front and the other sitting on her back!). The “wife” package also includes drawing the  “kolam” every morning or the “lakshmi” will not enter the house, followed by rigorous two hours of cooking breakfast, lunch, intercept with tea, coffee, horlicks, milk, complan, kanji for each member of the family age-wise, “gender-wise”(:-)), special room delivery to senior most, to feeding by spoons to the younger most. Any miss, and aunties will appear only to say” oh! no respect bcos she goes and earns a few bucks” More reports will be generated if the child loses his books in school, scores low or fails to take some books to school . New tag is” what kind of a mother is she?” and from then on, the neighbourhood sees her in a new light:-) as the propogation of such things happens like wildfire with immediate impact.

And mind you! The Indian Wife can go for work only for a noble cause “support the husband” or “not to sit “simply” at home” as though there is time to “simply sit”. Moreover, her work should confine to a strict timelimit, where she can come back in time for “homework” and “dinner preparations”. Home work, today means procuring complicated colour pencils, charts, learning aids, from shops which are a distant dream for a common man, putting in creativity and imagination to the level of a project manager in a firm, preparing the child to deliver it in class as though it is all his own “hardwork”. Otherwise, dooms day or auties day, which are anyway equal and parallel. Now, she has to learn to say ” its all the child’s skill” and taken after someone from that family necessarily.  You bet, the child cannot have “taken after” you or your family members for sure.

Now, last but not the least, one special qualification to be an Indian wife: “never ever claim that you thought of something by yourself”.  Always say, some aunty or elderly person advised you to do this or that… This can increase the probability of having it your way than saying its your own decision/idea or methodology. ” Neela aunty said the tution class in 4th avenue is very good. Do you think we should try that for him?” and the like.. And the convenient answer will be food and education is all your department. Bcos, these are the most low probabilities of success and there are no success formula, only luck and 24×7 hardwork!

Oh! Im running late to make dinner. Im afraid some aunty will knock the door and say, ” oh! dinner late? very lazy.  In our house, we eat at 7″ As if that is a benchmark for best lifestyle.

see you all when i make my both ends meet..i mean ..the laptop and my mind!

Nithya meets Sathya..

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What a classified column on a local news paper can do to someone is if i could call it “lifechanging” by all standards.

From finding a local caterer deliver food at your doorstep on a no-mood-to cook saturday to finding houses on rent/sale in your local area to what not. Other benefits you reap out of a free tabloid newspaper which is thrown at your doorstep every weekend, as though it was worth nothing, is really amazing. I remember finding out a lot of important information on these papers including the music classes, swimmning classes for the kids, house on rent near the school, the local secondhand goods dealer’s contact, tution for maths, wastepaper mart guy, the hobby classses on the offer, summer camps, the temple utsavam details and schedules in the vicinity, the legends who live close by, the awards conferred on people whom you really should know live next door,and much much more.

My one best, out of world benefit that the humble free newsprint gave me was when i learnt making jewellery through a contact on this paper and then i put up a classified ad only to receive several responses and a good number of them enrolling for the classes.

 Another good thing that happened to me recently bcos of the newspaper is the driving classes that i have enrolled in. If i had not seen the classified ad which said ” driving class- two -four wheelers- pick and drop arranged”, wow, i would never have ventured out to go all the way and learn something as important as driving, as it would be an agony going to class everyday:-)

 So here i go, Sathya teaching Nithya to drive to my own world of liberated women:-)..now i can go zigzag on the scoooty pep, cross signals without road fear and smile sweetly at a traffic police even if im on the wrong side and claim that im a new kid on the roads to glory! OhH! wat a feel…is what you feel when you ride a two wheeler for the first time in your life, although till yesterday you were one person sans any direction/road sense… And now, im all geared up to learn gears on the four wheeler, as a tolerant  Sathya, teaches me baby steps on the road, patiently and contributes to my whole new independent self!

Though a law graduate, Satya  is passionate about her driving instincts and strikes an instant chord of friendship with the young women who enrol for the classes with her. She completes the driving class with a gala lunch treat as a grand finale for her students who see her more as a friend than an instructor! Wat a way to do it, lady! Hats off to  her  passion as she fills the city with a lot of women driving the man machines:-)

Bengaluru dream comes true!

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We planned one thursday night at 11 pm that we had to go on a vacation to Bengaluru on the very same day the kids had got done with their final exmas last week.  We were quiet sure no amount of planning would work as all train tickets would be booked by then. We made a few frantic calls to friends and long lost aquaintances to check availability of accomodation in ooty, kodai, munnar, yelagiri and yercaud. They gave us hopeless news that all was booked and we would never stand a chance at this time of summer.  They must have thought we are a crazy couple who would sit and make plans at 11pm to go on a vacation the next morning, with two kids.  We did not give up. He lost hope soon and said we may not make it.  Then, it stuck me that Bangalore was just a 5 -6 hour drive away and insisted, perstered, nagged, and cribbed  till he was forced to agree that there was not much option left.

His Bengaluru friends cautioned him that it was Ugadhi, so it may be difficult to get accomodation.  Something also to do with some political party indulging in some celebrations on a mega scale as well. He backed out and said we could go the next time. I did not. Meanwhile, his friend had texted a few hotel no. for booking  just to give it a try. We tried. Kids were looking from the corner of their sleepy eyes, not setting any expectations as they knew it was just a try.

I was jumping with joy as the hotel guy declared availabiltiy of rooms. I slept eager and happy like a school kid going for his first vacation. Within the next evening, we took a jolly drive to B’lore and landed up at the Woodlands.

This was one of our best stays ever as we did not have any big agenda . The food, especially the soups served were a lingering delight for all four of us. Kids loved the corn kababs too and we loved the cute manager who resembled a 50-50 of my dad and his elder brother. He would stop by every lady guest and ask the same thing over and over again” if you guess what this is made of, then i will bill your food for free”! The ladies would give typical answers like maida, besan, cornflour, etc and he would cutely decline with his “priestly” pony tail shaking side to side. He has been serving here for atleast 15 years, as says the pride on his face, the way he talks and walks the talk! One more cute point is, if you order for special food like panner gravy etc, then the manager would come and take the order, let it not be taken by the boys there as it seemed too technical for them to handle:-). After the food was being served, he would come by, say sweet words to the kids, pat them, show his wife and son’s pictures from his wallet and again the pride about his son’s gold medal in the university, would make his face swell up like a cute balloon! Amazing to see such people who are willing to treat people as their own and be so kind!

Looks like apart from eating 4 meals a day at the woodies, and visiting the half- a km away Lalbagh, we really did not have any plans.

ofcos, day 2 was very very enjoyable, as we visited the HAL township that I used to stay in 34 years ago! I showed the kids my Vimanapura school that I and my sis studied at, the HAL colony, the playgound, the park, the corner house..

We had quite a task finding G-561, 7th cross as we kept crossing the same house so many times and I hadnt realised it was remodeled to face a different direction.  Finally, we managed to find out and stopped. I inquired to find out that the huge cotton tree which was the landmark of my house was gone, the entrance faced the opposite lane and all the neighbours we used to have had left and migrated elsewhere.  I showed the kids my house and the flooring of one of the rooms, unchanged brought back reminiscences of my good old b’lore days, my mom, her badam milk, tomato juice, her smell, her loving presence all over the house. For a minute, i sat back, to control my tears, i was happy i could feel her in that house.

I embraced the mango tree outside the verandah, looked up and remembered how much of yeild it had given us, now it was hardly green. I recollected how my dad used to climb up and pluck gunny bags of mangoes and supply them for pickles all over the colony.How many, how many memories, those roses, those corns and balsams were all gone but the lovely couple who occupied the house now with their two little girls were warm and nice, and it gave me instant relief that the house was now someone else’s  and that they too are nice people like my parents.

My kids and their dad waited for me, knowing how much i had told them about each detail about my blore town. They waited until i felt every bit of the house and drank the same water which lingers in my tongue even after so many years.

My love and thanks to the three of them to have let me make my dream come true. Yes, going back once to feel the house was my long time dream, and this time, i have seen it come true. I realised, if you really wish for something with your whole heart, it will defintely come true someday!

Books can read one’s mind..

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Whoever said books and dogs are man’s best friends..indeed they are.  Several times it has happened to me that what runs in my mind is what I somehow get to read in an article on a news paper or some magazine or a self-indulged novel. 

And, yes, as for dogs,  i really have no experience but can vouch from hearsay experience that they are worth falling in love, ..i m  sure many agree.

My recent books from the half price sale at Landmark were 3 interesting books, out of which 2 are first time authors and the third one is by Sudha Murthy. I enjoyed all three, and could realate, recognize and appreciate where all the three authors were coming from.

” Gently falls the Bakula” was my best pick, presented in a typical indian village setting, in the state of Karnataka, with a simple rustic charm of the bakula flowers, it is really worth a good read. The central characters slowly shift to the metro life of Mumbai.  It examines how their love life starts from the adolescent age and then slowly garduates, culminating into a deep emotional bond and marriage. Deeper inside, it dwells on how the girl, shrimathi, even though much more intelligent and capable than the guy, is slowly pulled into sacrificing her own interests, passion, ambitions in life inorder to play the role of “the lady behind the successful man”. Eventually, she realises that her hero has only used up her entire life, her skills and shrewdness in building his own career, ignoring or even failing to even acknowledge that she too was quiet capable of being even more mightier than he had become. He had merely been a chauvinist, a despot and an ordinary minded guy, forgotten the very fact that Shrimathi’s intelligence, decisiveness and her simplicity were the very  reasons for his falling in love with her. Had she been even a little selfish, she would have established herself in higher position in life and proved her worth.

It is even more interesting to read how Shrimathi battles within herself to assimilate the “mere”ness of her existence.  Finally, she reaches the stage where all her decisiveness and clear thiniking helps her become stronger inside and she decides to stand up on her own feet, to pursue what she was passionate about. Although, the realisation dawns on her very late in life, she chooses to go ahead, daring to not bother about soceity or too many people and how much  a blow it would be for the guy, for whom she had pledged more than half her life, youth, intelligence and passions. Good read, good learning. Books can read too, for sure!

 

 

What goes around, comes around..

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Its amazing how the world around us functions on a given day. Sometimes, i feel i am standing at the centrifugal point where only I stand still and every other object around me keeps revolving.
I have felt this so many times as some episodes, some scenaries, some objects, some faces..these keep crossing me more than once. I keep thinking it is only my perception, some mirage, or that my mind is hallucinating these either out of craving for these or the paranoea of experiencing these all over again.
Nowadays, I have stopped disbelieving myself, more so, my inner self. As i cross the next stage in my life, i humbly accpet that i am growing older, more capable and mature. I cannot drool in self doubt all the time that what i see may not be …not what is not. Infact, what i see is what i get to see and interpret. More work now for the brain to process the RDBMS and capture the result in a nutshell. And, I have to accept logic.
I can now understand what the book “games people play” is meant for. If not as much as the writer, i think, i have atleast arrived at a point where I know why people play some games, how they do, what they get and why they will not stop. Even more interesting is how people, to satisy the hunger of a unique kind will do anything to just get that unique satisfaction or thrill. Sometimes, it may be a personal sense of victory, false pride or the final ego, which refuses to accept reality.
I have seen people who constantly brag about themselves, their choices, their supremacy over the enire human race. These brags, i have seen last only for some time and slowly lack lustre when repeated too many times. People stop their intial adoration and soon start ignoring such dummies.
Some people who are straight dealers- they dont assume airs for anything which is really their big deal. Thhey believe in moving on with life as though if they had not done the big deal, someone else would certainly have done it, and even better. so, these sincere types have no big luggage to carry and they take life as it comes, cool, calm and dedicated in whatever they have prioritised. Thses people, I know are usually cheerful and determined to achieve their goals and do not attach fame or popularity as their ultimate objectives. They are ok even to miss one or two credits if it does not come its way.No cribbing policy.
Some people, by way of their upbringing or situations, always harper a feeling that the world is full of vice elements and they would be either beaten or burried with no traceswhile competing to achieve something in life. They always find excuses for not being able to make it somehow and attribute most trivial reasons as factors that contributed to their action. Such people fail to believe that the whole world has better things to do than to sit in awe and monitor them all the time. It is a pity that instead of live and let live, they take the route dont live and dont let live. For them, they will be happy only as long as things happen in their stride but will not be able to assimilate what they could have done better.
At the end of my mini thesis, i only feel, there is only one truth that is all peravasive and that is.. “what goes around, comes around” sometimes in several mulltiples, sometimes in minute particles. We do not have any control over this process as long as the earth spins around its orbit and the world functions with human beings as the main cast and every other thing is only designed to support the main cast.

Pardah!

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PARDAH! The veil’s other side..

The black robe covers  her from top to bottom

Behind which is  hidden an entire woman

It shows not even an inch of her skin,

Not the  smile, the laughter, her mind

It veils like iron, shielding her from every man,

The colour of her hair, her skin, her lips, her heart

What still shows is those pair of eyes, filled all the time

A mystery which kills men, struggling to tear the veil

Had it only not been so mystical, her beauty no secret,

She  would have been so much safer, like so many other woman around!