A home is a home is a home

Whenever I read reports in newspapers about disturbance in a country, I wonder why cant the people there shift their base rather than living in fear of death and uncertainty. The world is a much open place now and anyone can go and settle in the place of his choice & live a better life. And my opinion applies to people living in extreme sub zero climates, places with forever political problems, high militancy areas etc etc. However, I am told nobody likes to leave his house…coz home is where the heart is.

Even the pigeons on my hostel window reflect the same attitude. To be honest, I hate being away from home, away from the happening city, in a place everything, right from food to climate to infrastructure is in a state of despair. Yet, everyday I see a bunch of pigeons living happily on my room window. Its no easy situation for them either. The place is not an ideal destination for enough water, or food for them. Still, no matter how much I try to shoo them away, they always come back to the window. They have a free mode of transport, would need no passport/visas to shift to greener pastures & are not even bound by a residential program (like me!)…so what is it that motivates them?

And then I look at migratory birds in Lodi Garden in winter mornings. Like tourists, they come every year, to survive extreme weather conditions. Yet the comfort is unable to make them stay here forever. Come the right season in their home country & they happily take the long flight back home.

They say the solution to life’s puzzles lies in looking inside, so I introspect. No matter how much I love Delhi, there are people who strongly share the opposite opinion – people from other cultures finding tough to adjust here, tourists harassed  by the locals, people finding the city unsafe…they have their own reasons that nobody can counter. Yet, what is it that binds me to the place? Like a migratory bird, I look forward to taking that first flight home whenever I can…because home is where u feel comfortable and secure… home is where the heart is!

Exams are over tomorrow & I head home! 

Pic Courtesy:Google Search

Men and their “get and forget”

Just like New Year resolutions are meant to be broken, my anti blogging plans always end up in the trash bin! I had told myself – no blogging till the exams are over, no checking of page views. But Dil pe kisee ka zor nahi (nobody can control matters of heart)…and the heart feels like shouting it out loud on this blog!

Like most wives, I too have someone to blame for this problem…

My Super Busy Husband…

So, while he works it out in the office with some new team who is keeping him away from his wife, he doesn’t realize he has become my latest bakra for “Shaivi Ka Funda” Wow!

We always long what we don’t have, get into a “do or die” situation to grab it….as if it’s the most important thing in this world. And once, we have it as ours, closed in the closet, safely. Since there is no risk of losing it now. Such is with men (I know men reading this post will abhor me, but guys, I can’t help but sound feminist, I am agitated right now). 

Scene 1: You see, I am not a typical chocolate, flowers loving girl. And to impress a literature freak like me, he indeed had to work hard. And his courtship period report card has been very impressive…reading out my favorite blog to me, writing poems, birthday wishes in 10 different languages, a  new adjective every sms, discussing new books everyday…etc etc etc…he did it all with finesse. I used to wonder then, is there really something as an epitome of perfect gentleman? Coz he proved it every day. Once he actually stopped on the road while going to office so that he could focus on talking to me. NO work, no meeting was more important than me…and I found this too good to be true. The woman in me, Oooh…was on cloud nine!

Then marriage happens…

And now…

Scene 2:  He wakes up in the morning but waits to be woken up officially by me, announcing tea in a particular way. And just when I am enjoying that favorite article in the Sunday paper, he orders another cup. Had I been a restaurateur, I would have loved the extra order…but my reaction is that of a clerk in a government office, when his boss throws and additional file, just when he is about to reach the new high score on solitaire! I continue to look into my paper like a pigeon who closes his eyes, but a 2:1 ratio (the hubby & mom in law v/s me) has me in the kitchen again!

So, I was saying something about men. Once they know they have us, all other things take precedence on us…the boss who never gives them credit, the colleagues ready to stab in the back, the pest friend always dropping in at the wrong time, all intruders are welcome in the “us” time. All is fair with men and their work. But we women know how to juggle various hats. And then they shower the “you should have done….”gyaan…Men…Phew!

I know now you will say one has his moods, commitments, work…but where is our work when we take out time to talk to them, where is our mood when we happily listen to their stuff even if we have things piled up to do…because we women don’t believe in "get and forget!"

I know Mr. hubby, you will hate me after reading this post…but what could I do…I called you today at work, wanting to have a nice little conversation & the word “boss, busy, business, bye” from you sounded like “blah blah blah” . I know u men have a lot of work, meetings and commitments, but so have we. And add to that, we have home, ur family, our family, kitchen and a lot of blah blah blah to attend to. But we never ignore your calls, always listen even if we are busy & give you priority long even after the courtship period is over. We don’t want you men to leave the world for us, but what we need is some (actually as much as u can) pampering, quality time & PRIORITY…

And now, an honest confession….Now that I have vented it out, I feel I have inflated the issue, just to get some fodder for today’s blog…J

Blogging ke liye kuch bhi karegaaaaa! (Anything for a blog!)

Pic courtesy: Google search

To, the angel who blessed me...

Losses are a part of life. Material, financial, human or emotional, we all go through them sometime of the other. While some console themselves by treating losses as act of destiny, most crib, cry and question why it happened to them.

On this very day, two years ago, I lost the one person I have loved the most in my life, my mother…

Our relationship began right from the womb. While carrying me, she became extremely unwell & was advised to terminate me, but her love for me stopped her from doing so. She often used to tell me that during those days she saw her life in me and the moment I came into this world, she looked at me & felt as if any pain, any illness never happened. She recovered soon after my birth and people around started saying I gave her life…

Like most mothers, she did everything and anything for me, keeping my needs and happiness above her own. But she taught me something nobody else did…to embrace life. An avid reader, she introduced the word “optimism” to me at an early age, and it has stayed with me ever since; finding a place in any description I give about myself. As a little kid, Sunday mornings would begin, not with the usual “TV” but with ma reading aloud interesting articles and horoscope forecasts from the Sunday paper. She would read out a sentence and show me the beauty of literature, and say “someday I would want you to write like this…”

And I started early as well…debates, recitation, declamation contests while still under ten. I remembered how I would never open any prize in the school and bring the unwrapped gift home to mom, ask her to present it to me like they do in award functions and then open it for me. She would take it as her win, her prize and the pride in her eyes was more precious to me than anything else.

My 1^st national award, then 2^nd – she was there with me always, asking me to look at her in the audience if I ever felt nervous while reciting. And when people complimented me for my talent, she took more pride than I did myself! In fact, the year I passed out of college, she told me “with you, I have won so many awards, studied science, and then done hotel management. Being involved with every step of yours makes me feel as if I myself have acquired all these degrees.” Where else would you find a person who feels that way?

In 2006, I wrote her a poem on mother’s day. She never said a word, but the tears in her eyes and that warm hug said it all! Today, I miss her proof reading every time I write, her face cheering me from the crowd every time I go onstage, her organizing kirtan on my birthday, her guidance in every project I take…

A “not up to the mark food” now invites frowns and comments from my mother in law. That time, I always remember my mom kissing my hands every time I made something as she would understand the effort and emotions and acknowledge them.  It’s only the mothers who love you for who you are and not for what you do. Yet it is strange that most of us, after we are on our own, end up doing more for the new relations in our lives, and continue to take and take from our mothers.  And they continue to give, just wanting love and some quality time in return. And that’s how mom was – waiting for me at the bus stop if it got late, waiting for me to have meal together, adjusting her schedule with my convenient time to call, bearing the pain, just for me. The love flowed even on her death bed as, she told me “It’s so much trouble right now that as a human, I would wanna go, but I wanna stay back, to live with my kids"…

And now, it’s an endless wait for me….

Mom became my pillar of strength. Any laurel without her is incomplete and any pain without her is incurable. Yet, she was the one who made me to be the strong woman I am today, taught me to love, share, care and most importantly, think positive and creative.

My hands on this keyboard wouldn’t just stop…I think she deserves a book on her…

Today, as I write this blog, I also realize that we should remember such angels in our lives with a smile, not tears. It’s easy to be selfish and cry on someone’s departure, considering our loss. But, it takes guts to remember the departed with a smile; acknowledge God for bringing them into your life, rather than cribbing about the loss. “The glass is half empty, but also half full” as she always said.

That’s embracing life, and that’s what you taught me mom…

Thanks for everything…May you continue to rest in peace, happiness, smile and radiate that positivism!

Miss u mom! And love u the most!

That's mom & I!

Writing Prompt - I wish everyone loved

This post is written exclusively for the writing prompt by author Preeti Shenoy.

 

I wish everyone loved…

Sharing…

Yes. We all love happiness, smile, prosperity, fun…but for us and our loved ones. What about sharing love and happiness with someone unrelated to us? Someone who’s of no benefit to us? The true test of our character is how we treat someone who can do nothing for us.

We love bigger, better, best. How many times have we not frowned at seeing someone prosper? Not felt jealous of our rivals? Shared their happiness?

By nature, Homo sapiens (that is we, humans) look out when its time to take but look away when its time to give. If everyone relished the joy of sharing, the world would be such a better place!

Perhaps if people knew how to share pain, the unfortunate gangrape incident in Delhi wouldn’t have occurred. It’s our love for self at the cost of trouble for others that is the epicenter of all wrong doings. I wished people "shared" pain as it were their own…and my wish did come true when I saw people out on streets to seek justice for the victim!

But we need more of sharing...

I once ordered Pizzas for friends who were to drop in to my place. The weather worsened & they cancelled their plans at the last moment. I was in a fix … to have a super heavy "Pizza" dinner or give it to my neighbor who would show this huge favor by taking leftover (she would call the sealed packet leftover!) Pizzas. Hubby & I chose the 3^rd option. We took the pizzas and distributed them to the beggars on the traffic signal.   As I prompted a young beggar to take away the Pizza, his eyes twinkled instantly! He ran as fast as he could to grab the pizza before anybody else took it. The happiness in his eyes gave me more happiness than 100 pizzas would have given. And I didn’t know him! Nor was I to benefit from him in any way. Yet, I tasted the joy of sharing….

Me Wonderzzz...

To do something special, one needs to dare

Learn to look beyond self love and care

The world would be a better place

If only everyone loved to share…

That’s my wish…

Shave Or Crave

This post is a part of the 'Shave or Crave' movement in association with BlogAdda.com

Looking at his evening stubble, I roll my eyes & ask him, what is it that u crave? “Am I a gal that I will crave?” he says and walks away. “Men”…I say as I sip my coffee…

We women have a new craving every hour (pani puri, chocolate, shopping, coffee, breezer, Chinese, Italian…an endless list). The Martians (i.e. Men), on the contrary are so predictable, so plain.

If u plot a woman’s choice on a graph, the crests and troughs will drive u crazy...her ever changing moods, wants, desires.  A man’s choice as usual, would be a straight line parallel to x axis! Same socks, shoes, the tattering old t shirt he still holds on to, cricket (wait…cricket…but my man doesn’t even crave cricket!)

“The Gillette must be lying idle and he must be enjoying the smoothness of his single malt”, I grumbled

My cribbing continued…

Men have no cravings coz they get what they want. Even if they crave, they won’t show. Like a charmer, they will get their object of desire. So simple and smooth, just like their clean shaven face. When everything has to be so smooth, then why that evening stubble? Where does the penchant for smoothness go then?

Me wonderzzz…

We women are so brainy & brave

Frustration we hide and patience we save

Woo him first and then make him crave

Till he gets a smooth, clean shave…

As I plan, he comes, his eyes shine,

brings his gillete  shaven  face next to mine

I smile as I notice his shave

He whispers in my ears “It’s you I crave” 

This post is a part of the "Shave or Crave" movement in association with www.blogadda.com, "The biggest community of Indian bloggers"
This post is a part of the <a href="https://apps.facebook.com/425290917524532/?fb_source=search&ref=ts&fref=ts"
 title="Shave or Crave" target="_blank">'Shave or Crave'</a> movement in association with 
<a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="The biggest community of Indian 
Bloggers" target="_blank">BlogAdda.com</a>

Love thy neighbour

Why is it easier to remember bad memories than good ones? Why do sad songs have a huge fan following? Why does pain bind people stronger than joy? Why is it easier to have negative vibes for someone than have positive ones? Why is it easier to crib than to appreciate? Why is it comfortable to regret than to rejoice?

I wonder then, when we have so many people around, some of them like minded, why is pain tougher to share than joy? Why is pain such a private possession and we just hold on to it. Maybe because often, people we trust inflict pain on us, and we lose faith on the species called “Homo sapiens”. We might still be transacting with them, but something somewhere inside dies a natural death. Often because we fail to give it back to them…

I’ve met some amazing people in my life, who taught me the meaning of joy, loving, sharing, caring, altruism, optimism. And at the same time, I have met those who have hurt me, let my hopes down, shamelessly been dishonest with me, be greedy with me, displayed their hypocrisy, tried to stab my positivity. But, as the New Year arrives, here I am. Still there, stronger than ever, independent than ever, more successful than the failure those people wished for me, more patient than their provocations, more positive than their efforts to suppress me. But, one thing that’s lacking is trust…unconditional trust, they have been successful in robbing me of trusting them. As I meet some of them even today, anything good or bad inside me for them dies a natural death.

Our karmas decide our fate, even the respect and love we command from others. Each one of us has our share of bad moments. And while all joy might not come from human sources, any and every pain sources down to a human being in our life. Maybe that’s why people find it easier to share their joys than sorrows, love to confide into an anonymous agony aunt/uncle, vent it out in their creativity, but refrain from sharing it with members of the same species…

Our species has existed for over 5000 years, yet we fail to share pain.

Even animals understand each other’s sorrows. No matter how much they fight, when one gets injured, the other does come to help. How can we human then, the best living beings considered on this planet, be so insensitive towards another one of us? Some of us get joy by inflicting pain, mental torture and malice on another human being. Even if not direct, some of us turn a blind eye to another human’s pain…often gaining sadistic pleasure…

Animals then are better than human beings….what you see is what you get…

Me wonderzzz…

Letter to Santa from a Delhi girl…

Dear Santa,

Welcome once again! I have been waiting for you eagerly & my new red stockings are ready too, waiting for their treat. Thanks so much Santa for the new stilettos last year. They were a rage at the parties! It was fun to flaunt them as other gals felt J.

But this year, I don’t want any boots. I don’t even know if I will be ever able to party freely the way I used to. You wanna know why?

A few days ago, a girl in my city was gang raped brutally by men while she was on her way home after watching a movie. She was in a bus at 9pm (well before our parties begin!), was clad decent enough & was accompanied by a male friend when this happened.

This incident has shaken the city so much. My parents have set a 8pm deadline to come back. No late nights. Combined studies mean having to wrap up before dark else stay over at friend’s house where my brother will pick me up from. No shorts. No short skirts. I feel I am in a jail! Mother tells me it’s all to protect me. The city has become very unsafe & they don’t want me to face any trouble.

But Santa, why do I and my female friends face the brunt of a handful of maniacs? It is about the problem of a few men with a psychotic brains and lustful eyes. It is they who should be leashed, not us. If dogs go mad, they are locked, not the people. Unfortunately, here, there are just too many of them (the dogs aka rapists) and by the time you know they have a problem, they have already attacked innocent girls.

I don’t want fancy gifts this year Santa…RATHER…

I want my freedom back. What is the point of having good clothes & shoes when I can’t party? What is the point of living in a happening city when I can’t enjoy the night life? I want the freedom to live my life MY WAY. I want the freedom to wear whatever I like without the dogs staring at me with hungry looks. I want my parents to be relaxed the next time I take public transport at night. I want my government to act to the concerns of millions of girl like me. In the freezing cold this morning, canons of water were fired at my friends who went to India Gate today to participate in non violent protests. Santa, I want the government to work on the rape laws & accused instead of troubling innocent people. I don’t want the accused to walk away with the loopholes in our judiciary system. I want severe punishment for the accused so that next time such men think twice before striking at a girl. Santa, I want justice for that girl – an eye for an eye.

And finally Santa, I want a speedy recovery for that girl & strength for her family. She has endured enough and so have we – the girls of Delhi.

Donno Santa if all this will fit the red stockings, but I know you have never disappointed me…I shall be waiting….

Merry Christmas!