And then I go all silly..

Can we really compare pain or miseries or even illness..

I often find myself talking about my hair issues to my friends. Though it may seem small and petty to most of us (I too would have not sympathized with anyone had it not happened to me), but it’s a major dent in the confidence of the person who bears it. Last night, I met some friends and since I was so conscious about how I looked, I ended up confessing my hair problem. Another friend who’s trying to have a baby said that it couldn’t be as bad as having fibroids in the uterus and I was like of course there’s no comparison. What I felt bad about is that how could you compare problems- they are so uniquely yours and yours alone. While I wouldn’t understand what she must be going through, she might not have any idea how tough it was to deal with something as trivial as a cosmetic issue.

I learnt this lesson some time ago. Someone I knew was having a tough time getting pregnant and I had been stupid and ignorant enough to compare that with my singular status and loneliness issue. I am still so ashamed of even thinking like that now, how naïve and- a millionth time, stupid I could be.

I realized that a person’s problems was theirs alone and no matter how small we would think of them, they are big enough to bother them and therefore have importance. A person going through cancer or a life threatening disease would be happy to have what I do.

There’s just no way to compare joys and likewise miseries, it’s just fundamentally incorrect..

Roots..

These lines from her got me thinking: "..because where you live can keep changing. Where you belong never does..."

S belongs to Kolkata while I to Lucknow. We have spent a major part of our lives, our growing up in these cities. Both of us have families there, relatives, cousins and even friends that we’ve grown up with. In my case, the bond is even stronger, my ancestors have lived there and for as long as any of us can remember, Lucknow has been our home. As I explain to people, I am typically from the city- we haven’t migrated from somewhere and both my parents’ sides have generations living in the city. I never gave it much thought until now, never realized what a source of pride for me it is and how important to “belong” to a place is, a place where I have my roots. And now suddenly, it’s such a beautiful feeling- to belong!

This whole thought process began when I started to think which place our children would belong to.. Both of us have our roots in different places, we will move cities based on our work requirements. And I wonder if my children would feel like the way I do about home? Will they ever come to the sudden realization about the importance of having roots, or ever wonder at this ordinary yet miraculous discovery.. 

To strangers..

There are some people you know you’ll never meet again..

I was flying home sometime last year. I’d just moved cities, had no job and was desperate for company, making “new” friends. My married sisters had instructed me to start talking to people, connecting with them (which is a very tough thing for me to do), and make friends, so I began groping for company. I was seated next to this lady who must be early 40s and we began talking.

It was rather interesting talking to her. She seemed as impatient as me, mature but still had that defying streak in her. She explained how Bangalore will gradually grow on me and I’ll begin to prefer it over Delhi, we spoke about ambition and families and children. She told me how independently she was raised, how she had called off her engagement when young with her childhood friend and neighbor and still managed to remain friends, that there came a time when she knew that she had to leave home for a larger city or she wouldn’t survive. There was too much of similarity and vehemence in us and I could see faint glimmers of a bond. This had happened to me before when total strangers had become my best friends and with that dire need now to find a close pal, I was glad to encounter someone like her.

 We kept chatting for all of the two and half hours and by the end of it remained interested enough to exchange numbers and a probability to meet each other once back in Bangalore. After umpteen attempts to connect, we did manage to meet up. We had lunch, chatted amicably for an hour or so and then parted with words of meeting each other with our spouses some time. However, in some inexplicable way, at some unsure moment during our lunch, I realized that this was probably that last time I was meeting her. I don’t know when and how this happened but I just knew it. After that meeting neither tried meeting or even staying in touch, just like that.

Now when I look back, I feel that I should have left that airplane conversation to what it was- a conversation that makes you smile at times, of connecting with somebody totally unknown and making you think about the wonders of life. I have had some encounters when I travelled often and though I don’t even know their names, I remember most of them distinctly, even fondly.

I guess its better being ignorant about some things, certain people. Maybe some things are best left the way they are..

Generally..

I no more have the older qualms.. It’s a peaceful and some might even say, a pretty life I live.

My day begins at 7:30 in the morning when I wake up to open the door for the cook, instruct him what to make and then go back to bed, if only to shut my eyes for those 20 extra minutes before I have no choice but to wake up. Once I am ready, I literarily cajole S to wake up and rush into the kitchen to make nimboo paani/ tea/ breakfast and pack our lunch. In the meanwhile S is ready and settles the bed, waters plants and we talk about mundane things with some random music playing in the background.

He obviously finishes his share of chores before me (with hardly much to do) and is at the table when I bring breakfast and tea out for us. We again chat amicably for a while before we realize with a start that both of us are getting late. This is followed with total chaos to pick up our bags, one last look at the mirror, hug each other and then while I bring out the car, he locks up the house. I drop him on my way to work and we both get immersed in our respective work places.

Once I reach work, I HAVE to text him or he loses it (which I think is rather sweet). Once when I forgot to message him and rushed into a meeting, I had umpteen missed calls, several frantic texts and a call at the office reception! We usually call each other once in a day from work, even if to say hello. I leave work at about 6:30-7:00 in the evening when things are good, talk to Ma on my way back and by that time he has already reached home, changed and is off to the gym. We meet each other by 8:30ish and have dinner, watch some tv, share our day and are off to sleep. Often the gym is replaced by a common urge to eat paani bataasha (gogappas), so we meet each other mid-way and go for dinner.

Amidst all this, my life is sprinkled with little fights and arguments with him, some late night conversations about life and future plans, our doubts and fears, everlasting holiday plans, some gossip and a bit of bullying each other.

I don’t think I can complain, thank God..

Refusing to budge..

I admit I've been living my life in a bit of an illusion. A life I've been seeing through rose tinted glares, where everything works out the way I want it to.. And though "Castle" says high time he admitted to reality, I refuse to. I would still like to believe that I will get what I want, somehow.

And yes, I am 30 something and still not cynical, touch wood..

On another note, those bloody shots on my scalp hurt crazy. I've paid my price for being arrogant about how I look, hair back now- please God..

Believing in miracles..

DESTINY- It's a word that I've learnt the meaning of very slowly. I've argued with myself a zillion times on how it's the willpower of a human being that makes things happen and though I still believe in the thought, things have changed.

I've learnt that:
- You do get exactly what you want, it may or may not be how you've wanted it.
- "He" up there knows you more than you know yourself
- Believing is a miraculous word
- Some things are meant to be, most are destined
- Hard work and luck go together
- The present happens in preparation to the future

And I believe this because of all the guys I met, I ended up with S, whose exactly right for me. There were times when I hated him beyond reason but still continued being friends with him and now I wonder why..

I guess He always has a plan and that makes me believe in miracles..