The toughest task of all..

How far would you go to keep a secret?

Picture this : you are in possession of a fact of matter, through word of mouth, and you are absolutely forbidden to pass it on further!

How would you react to this situation?

Personally, for me the thought of keeping a secret involves a lot of grey matter being utilized in keeping the blabbing mouth shut. I have to prioritize and weigh several factors - the gravity of the secret, about whom  is the secret, who has passed on to me the secret, and the repercussions, if suppose, I just let go...

Life shouldn't be complicated - as it is we have to be careful about what we say, what we do, how we present ourselves in the external world - we are trying so hard to be maintain this awesome facade - or reality - of ourselves, to the society, office, acquaintances - that when it comes to the extra burden of keeping a secret - sanity tends to topple over!

So you're in the possession of this amazing secret - the sweet tantalizing juice of impending gossip stains your thought process every now and then - Heavens forbid, if the universe decides to throw you, in this extremely vulnerable situation, with a group of friends who happen to know the subject ! Every now and then, you feel this urgent need - not to pee - but to just utter those words - "you know what I heard...."

And the relief, the calm, that sweeps through, when you know the issue is in capable hands. The dissection, the back links of the story, and the predictions of what could happen next, lend a legend to the secret, make it seem more real, and just make it worth blurting it out!

Of course, the person who trusted you so intimately, will probably just make you the last man/woman in on the next juicy piece, but you can always promise them "I'll be strong, next time on"!

And hey, maybe the next secret might just be so bland, you'll keep your word!

I'm just in possession of a secret, absolutely forbidden to blurt it out!! I hope the subject speaks soon! My reputation as the secret-keeper is already on shaken grounds!

What's wrong with you, man??

This piece of writing has references to the the male section of the society, irrespective of caste,creed, colour, age , profession or religion.

And with very very important inputs from an 18 yr old girl who has to go through it everyday. 

A girl stands on the bus stop. She can feel the gaze of every man in the vicinity, on her. A bus passes, and the ones sitting near the window all look at her. The bus moves forward, and the roving eyes move backwards. The ones who are standing, actually crouch down to have a look at the girl.

FYI, she's no hottie. She's a plain Jane. Wearing simple clothes. Yet the stares don't leave her.

She moves on, and two guys on a bike who have been "decent" enough to observe from a distance, now start following her. So weird, were they scared that the staring, spineless crowd at the bus stop might actually stop them from approaching the girl? With the bike, they can move a step ahead of their "in the bus" counterparts. "Can we drop you, ma'am", they ask, oh-so-politely.

When the girl ignores, they just laugh and drive off. Had she flipped them off, they would have been ready with more inopportune things.

You must have heard of Darwin’s theory of evolution the body structure keeps changing according to the needs – it seems in the coming generations some men will be born as head turned backwards. Check out all you want!

The scene inside the bus is no better.  With every little jerk of the bus, the men seem to topple down on the girls standing in front of them.  But oh, it’s not their fault! The bus stopped, so, according to the laws of inertia he will fall on the person in front of  him. And if the person happens to be a female, then the "level of falling" on the person doubles. That's the law. It’s not his fault now, is it?

This is not just limited to idle loafers or vagabonds. From the lowest, illiterate sections of the society, till the highly educated ones, it is seen, that a majority just cannot take their eyes off … all women! They stare, from top to bottom, almost making you feel you have something funny written all over you.  Inadvertently, almost as if on reflex, they tend to make many a women highly uncomfortable. Even if you're the dare girl type who can manage to bad mouth right on the face and move on, there's still a bitter taste of the experience left.

Nature argues that man was meant to procreate, and woman was supposed to be the care giver, and hence that is why, men are "used" to such behavioural imitations when they're around a woman. But isn't this a little too much? Hey, whatever happened to mind over matter?

I walk back from office every day. I pass through different strata’s of the society on the way. And men - just stare. There's a vacant, blank look, as if they aren’t even aware of what they're doing. Boys standing in a group - all will suddenly notice you (and by you, I mean ANY girl) one by one, signal to each other, while smiling slyly..  I mean, how juvenile is that??!!

The “stare” is omnipresent-  it’s on the road, on the bus ride, on the station, in the auto, in the market – even some of the “committed” ones,  while with their girlfriends,  can’t help but stare at other women around them. It's like an animal instinct. See a girl? Okay, STARE!

Come to think of it, my pet Tom doesn’t seem to act like that too! Maybe I should observe chimps?

And then there are the oldies also, seem to be from good families (whatever is meant by that)... the old husband walks behind his old wife dutifully, but even he can't help looking at a girl old enough to be his granddaughter. I just want to ask them, what the hell is wrong?? And if the aunty notices her husband's gaze, she'll turn around and glare at you. Is it my fault??!!

So many instances, and you know for sure, this is not a casual glance. This is what you've made yourself used to.  Education seems to do nothing.  The realization should come from within.  That I'm not an un-evolved version of the Homo sapiens who will act only according what the primitive coding in my genes says. And there could be a trickledown effect, from the upper echelons till the lowest.

Having said all this, not all men are bad, and not all women are innocent (look at 7 khoon maaf! ), but still we live in a country of 100 million gender biased Gen-previous, and I've heard more cases of girls being subjected to such occasional "man-attack".

It may be a microscopic view. But I don’t want this to become a way of life for the generations to come. 

PS - The accompanying picture is from today's edition of THE HINDU

The Dream or The Reality?

She was alone.
Standing on the crossroads, and rain poured all around her.
There was no light, not a soul in sight.
It rained so hard till the road became a shallow river.
And in the middle of it, she was alone.
A light shines from somewhere. Perhaps a car. A speck in the distance. It grows closer.
The girl seems vulnerable. Scared. And soaked to death.
Matted hair clung to her face. The excess water made her skin pallid and old rubber skin like.
She was thin. And shivering.
He felt confused. What is she doing here in the middle of the night.
Worried. He was a doctor after all.
Compassionate. Human emotions take precedence.
He slows down. Honks.
She does not budge. Looks at him, scared still.
Her dress is black. She's tall. Thin. A little self assurance creeps through, despite the state of affairs.
He stops the car next to her. Rolls down the passenger window.
Calls out  "Hey!
Need to go somewhere?"
She looks at him, blank.
It's raining hard. It's getting dark. He needs to reach home fast before this becomes a storm.
He calls out again. She's now looking ahead at the road.
Both sides are fields. There's no hut, or soul in sight.
He sighs, caught between the desire to rush, and the guilt of leaving this (probably) retarded girl here.
He gets out. Goes up to her.
My! She's nearly as tall as I am, he thinks. The chivalry shrinks a little.
It's impossible to talk in this rain. He gestures towards the car. And then waves towards the road ahead.
She turns her head slowly. Looks at the road. then the car. then the man.
She nods.
He feels relieved. Hop in, he says
She glides slowly towards the door. He rushes towards the wheel.
He sits. locks. Starts the car. Changes the gear. Accidentally (?) brushes the girl's hand.
Feels a shock. They are too cold. and hard. Almost like...
He looks at her. The eyes are boring back into his. They are black, with a strange emptiness.
Then he notices the dagger. The cold, wet, sharp dagger. He remembers the hitchhike stories.
A raise, a swipe.
Blood splashes on the car windows....


He wakes up in a fright. Cold sweat breaks out on his forehead.. But he's alive.
Next to his bed is a jugful of water and a glass. He pours himself a glass.
As he raises the glass, the girl is reflected in the steel exterior of the glass.
A raise, and a swipe..
In his last moments, he remembers the hitchhike dream...

The Dilemma and the Celebration

A ting sound and the screen goes blank

The colourful screen and background of windows gives way to a black screen, as if in mourning, and declares some error – “disk will have to be checked for consistency”

Now I’m not new to this error, the last time this happened, it cost me all the data in the hard-drive, and a new installation of windows – which again didn’t last very long. I don’t want that trauma happening again.

Whenever something wrong happens with my laptop (and laptop being my best friend, if you must know), it’s a red alert for me. Too much time goes in recovering and saving the laptop from the crash.

And the red alert seemed to be happening again.

My thoughts turned to my IT friends – more particularly, a certain someone whom I’ve always given a call when red alert happens. She’s the expert.

But that certain someone is busy today. And why would she not be? Her wedding’s just 5 days away now!

I sigh, unsure of what to do by myself. Throwing up my luck to the Gods, and keeping my faith in Windows 7, I allow the computer to reboot and check the disk.

Google searches on net confirm that the disk checking might take time, so I allow myself to slip into a reverie.

Supriya, my IT expert. I would trust her more than I trust the manuals. She seems to know the pulse of the system. Her judicious, detailed approach, make all solutions (apparently invisible to us normal folks) completely transparent. And it’s not just the IT. It’s the way she would approach every problem. “Nip it in the bud” – she would say often, quoting her father. Something she tried quite hard to implement in her own lifestyle – something which I wish to implement myself.

4 years of being roommates quite helped us to know and observe each other from close quarters. Things we could not tell anyone, we would share before we turned off the lights for sleeping. Sometimes we would sing crazy songs, trying to match our dulcet tones, carrying off a soprano with comfortable ease, moulding the two voices into one. Our similarities were few, but we weren’t night and day. We were just two tangents, tending in our own directions, but somehow trying to cross each other’s paths once in a while.

Advices we were always ready with, for each other. Criticism was never hidden – although she had a much better way of letting things known which she did not like about me – I was a bit more caustic. We had our own share of cold conversations, but more than made up the share with innocent laughter and a deeper bond. She remains, till date, one of the few people with whom I’ve been able to share, what i DON’T like, about them. Needed a lot of gumption for that!

Times changed, so did the cities. Did the conversations dip? Yes they did.. for some time, then they picked up again.. and back – the high point of every talk being, we began right where we left off. The camaraderie remained the same as ever.

Now this wonderful girl in my life is going to marry a perfect match her parents found for her. The coyness, the bliss, the happiness in her voice is all too amazing to believe! Since the day we’ve known each other, this would be the biggest step that she would be taking in her life. And I’m lucky enough to be there for her.  To see the transformation, as she gains the title of “Mrs”. To wish her all the luck in her newly wedded life. To listen to her stories, of how she balances and manages the little (and big) challenges of marital life – to know if she “nipped them in the bud”.

Funny how my laptop should go bust the day I receive her wedding card. Probably, it is to say, take over the mantle from Supriya, she’s going to be busy for the time to come J

I smile, having gone from a rewind to a flash forward in 15 minutes. I look at my laptop.

It is smiling too... windows is back.  

For the 2011th time...

...this is it.. the new dawn of the new year is almost upon us. World over the followers of the Christian calendar feel being on the edge of a cliff, only too willing to fall into a brand new year. Fresh starts, fresh promises, fresh hopes, and possible new beginnings for many! What is it about the new year that puts so many of us in a state of excitement and frenzy? No party seems as big as the one on new year's eve! This is actually a festival of the world which needs no mythological backing. And the countdown starts as November lazily makes way for December, distracting us with the changing seasons. In school and now workplace, December itself is splattered with round the corner festivities of Christmas and the annual exams/quarter end targets. We are working, but we are dazzled and distracted by the hum of excitement which has started around, and is too difficult to miss. The newspapers start coming out with the "hot and not" list of the current year; TV channels have their popular celebrities wishing all a new year, people are happy making, and declaring new years eve plans on Facebook; Year end offers and sales come out for those who enjoy retail therapy. Time Magazine comes out with the person of the year; back home, we are busy dissecting the biggest goon of Indian politics. We reflect on what could have been, and what needs to be done in the new year. 

New Years eve, is a talisman of hope, which everyone carries for the next 330 days, and then starts waiting for another new year!

In this biggest celebration on earth, its hard not to reflect on what all changed, and being taken along on the wave of excitement which has begun... the countdowns, the wishes, the planning are all now underway. We must be achieving something definitely every year, which is why we are eagerly welcoming yet another new year. We may crib and rant and scorn yet again, by February, or probably mid Jan, but things must be waiting to happen, sometime somewhere in 2011, for all of us - all those amazing moments which makes it so worth living!

Even if not amazing, then we have some events definitely to look forward to in the Indian life - 3G life, number portability, Mono rail for Mumbai residents, more Metro lines for the Delhiites, lesser scams, probably more sports events in our country - and other sports shining through, better songs becoming chartbusters!, vegetables not in the price range of gold, lesser terrorism, and an year which is well worthy to mark the beginning of a decade which is expected to be exemplary.

To end, if 2010 brought for me and my close ones new beginnings (college life, engagement), new jobs, new perspectives and better insights, a closeness which is ever present, then I hope 2011 is equally beautiful, if not better...

Cheers to everyone! Happy new year! Begin, with a smile...

Happy Birthday Sis!

I think it was the year when I turned 17 when I knew, she was, exactly like I had hoped for.

Till then I'd had her for about 10 years with me. Right from the baby she'd been to the 10.5 year old that she was then. And that particular winter of 2003, she had left for 2 weeks long holiday to our nani's place.

It was the year I had taken a drop from life's all pleasures.. except studying (!) .. and all my free time was spent with the cute little kid in my life, who unlike the others in family, was NOT growing tall like a beanstalk!

So anyways, she had gone. To nani's place. And we couldn't talk much cos', well STD calls weren't that cheap. And cellphones weren't very popular either. In any case, she didn't have a cellphone, so no use of me having a cellphone on me anyway.

When the plan was being made, I was secretly thrilled, cos' that meant I could hog on all the yummy food and not share with her, and I could play with our pet dogs, and not have her telling me how to have a ''better'' make believe game. And I could sprawl on the bed completely without her scolding me in the night to stop kicking her.

Within first 2 days I realized, my dogs weren't that interesting till I had her weaving out a story and we acted on it. I remember one such act; we used to pretend me and her are two strangers, and both of us carried each one of the two dogs we had... we would walk towards each other like two snooty British women (shimla inspired us tremendously) and make rude comments at each other's pet dogs, or clothes, or accent...

Some other fun "plays" we had was laying out all our books for sale, while we pretended to be the seller or the buyer, and this transaction involved us haggling in the most eastern UP accent that we could muster up.

Sometimes we would just sit and talk about the day, or what all fun we plan to do when we "grow up", read Harry Potter together, or just reminisce about our solo experience (till then) of vanilla ice cream with hot chocolate!

Delicious cuisines were no fun if not to be discussed with, and shared with her. She was the biggest source of genuine fun that year I had before I joined college, so needless to say, when she went on a vacation for 2 weeks, it became very very dull!!

And so for days I contented myself with chats on phone, or looking at her pictures. Suddenly, it felt unreal that I had such a cute, loving sister. I had her! I was actually the big DIDI of this angel looking child!

So on the gushing went, as I silently went on crossing the days in my calendar, awaiting her return eagerly, so that we could resume our routine of play-acts.

When she did come back, however, the first thing we did was not a tearful hug saying how much we had missed each other, but rather a big fight, over something which I can't recall now, but am sure would have been a trivial issue. But at least we were back to acting like the sisters that we were. 

As we grew older, moving to our respective hostels, communication dipped. But obviously, the bond remained. The age gap between us became a little more glaring, as I had my college talks, while she was still a class 7 child. But the cute voice, the talks, just the simple word "Didi" helped make the memories of the play-acts even more cherished.

Having reliance to reliance free calling has helped a lot. Now that she's matured much faster than I did (!), we have been able to understand each other a lot more. No day is complete without having updated each other on the most general of activities of the day, or having dissected and discussed our "feelings" regarding various places/events/people/tom, etc...

Luckily, some innocence of childhood has continued in our talks. Like for instance, we can still discuss Harry Potter for hours on end. We still think about the first time we had vanilla with hot chocolate. We plan impossible trips, events, thinking that now that we're "grown up", we can have the fun we thought of so many years back.

And we still love to talk in various accents, eastern UP being our most favourite.

Today my kid sister has turned 18. New ventures await her, and our life's paths may be totally tangential, but I hope we continue the bond even when we're 80...

...well her 80 and me 87! 

How about a Parent's day?

So easily we have fallen into the pattern of celebrating children's day... many of us, even in our 20s, feel that thin thread connecting us with our childhood give a little twang when children's day arrives. We love reminiscing about how November 14 used to be a celebratory day in school - a break from the usual routine. Now although, as I look back on school days, even the "usual routine" was so much more fun than what today's "usual routine" actually is.

Childhood is a fantasy world... the constant sense of discovery of the tiniest things left our curious little minds wondering for hours. With time the little revelation would get twisted into a fantastic thing, and the mind would be on a trapeze, jumping from one thought to the next, spiraling into an imagery, a fusion of brilliant possibilities and happenings...

Having embraced adulthood, with increased sense of perception and understanding, there are few things that amaze us in that wondrous way. With our exposure and learning, it seems as if the only things that are still left to the imagination are the deeply perverse and dark, which we never hope happens to us...

And somehow between all the struggle, the confusion, the wondering, the depression, the confusion (again!) deep down, we know we have one set of people constant in our lives, to help us out, to guide us through, to bear the brunt for us when the going gets too tough! Our parents are like these silent puppeteers in the background, stringing along the threads, and helping us dance through this madness called Life!

They make you believe no problem is big enough that it can't be solved, no mistake can be ever grave enough that it would break the relation between you and them, there's no match to the selfishness that comes to their fore when there's something concerning US, their children's' welfare... then no prize can be good enough, no necessities luxurious enough, no facilities comfortable enough... It is for us that they keep driving themselves - we may define is as a way of life, but really, who are they actually doing it for?? Had it been for their own self - gratification, there would be no fixed deposits they would be taking sacrificing their own present enjoyments, no insurance policies to handle problems immediately when at bay - we would in-fact having an anti- parent, the one who would live for the moment and expect us to make a living for ourselves right from scratch.

At least in the Indian setup, I believe, the idea of assets passing from generation to generation still holds quite strongly. One way or the other, either we're born with a silver spoon, or we have our parents make one for us.

And still, their work started long long back! Suddenly, with our arrival, they had this responsibility that was too big to fathom. So we have dads cooing to understand our first words, we have the mothers trying to read through the incessant crying. We have both trying to understand our lisped words; our unattractive building of clay becomes the best Picasso work for them, and the smallest gesture of getting a glass of water for them becomes the biggest delight!

Through our teenage years, they brace themselves for the caustic mood swings we go through, when nothing they do can be good enough, and everything they say becomes  an anti-teen way of life!

And then life comes a full circle, and also in this blog, when we reach our twenties, and begin to depend on them again. "What if I do this?" I think, and Pop says, "but beta won't that  be better?" And I think " wow! will I ever be able to think like that??"

Mom's advice suddenly becomes word of law, and you react scornfully when your younger sibling acts like your bygone self - and don't you wish he/she saw in your mom/dad - what you can heartily appreciate now!

On Children's day  I saw umpteen sets of parents prance around their wealth of joy, dapperly dressed, buying them little gifts, taking them for outings, making them feel special in whatever way possible. No demand was given a No, 14th November, becomes every kid's birthday!

And if we are so special to our parents, without doing anything much at all other than, well, being their kids, (and kids we will always be to them, even if we are 50!)... and if we can be pampered so much, then it makes much more sense to have a true celebration of Parents Day!!

How about a nice card to our parents appreciating them for their love and understanding? How about a day of listening to your parent's wishes and demands, and making them feel like a kid! A day when we ask them to take a break, relax, and we handle the mundane household  chores. The celebration needn't be big, but the gesture, the underlying thought, might just work wonders to make them feel special. Even if we just listen to their preachings, actually LISTEN, it might make just make their day!

Observe your mother, look at the things that make her laugh... she would look wonderfully beautiful in that moment of innocent happiness... Or your dad, who has a tough exterior, but inside he's such a softie he could make your heart melt. Their demands extremely measured, their expectations very little. Even fulfilling all those, even once a year, would be a great move!

More than children, we are now in a position to become their best confidantes. Maybe for some it has already happened, maybe its in transition for rest. But what we can imbibe in ourselves now is a sense of responsibility... for our loving, still 'young' parents.