The trust factor..

~ What makes you allowing strange electrician/ plumber/ carpenter into your house?
~ What makes you give your house keys to your maid you’ve known for months?
~ What makes you go to places in a strange cab, strange city?
~ How do you believe that stranger you’ve just asked direction from?
~ What makes you give yourself in the hands of a strange man who’ll rip open your body for that operation?
~ What makes you deposit all your money into a bank?
~ What gives to the strength to enter into matrimony with a strange man, with a few recommendations?
~ What give you the courage to cross the road during heavy traffic?

A thousand such questions run through my mind and the only answer I get from within myself is: TRUST, my trust in fellow humans, my trust in God, and somewhere in myself too.

And people tell me I don’t trust easily, crap!!

White noise

That’s what it is like, hazy, unclear, disturbing, making no sense at all. It just goes on and on and on, disturbs your senses, your ears, your eyes..

That screechy, crazy noise that makes you change the channel, switch off you television sets, before which every other sound ceases to exist and you hope that next time when you turn on your systems, the noise would vanish.. It makes you stop doing everything else, the noise is so powerful and disturbing, it bangs inside your head, turns everything upside down and if it doesn’t stop, makes you scream!!

Can you imagine yourself locked in a room, being forced to hear that blare again and again??

For me loneliness is like that “white noise”.. Call it quarter life crises when you don’t know which way to go, when all your friends are either married or dating and you find yourself all alone, no sound except the fan running or the tube light hizzing. You turn the T.V on and are greeted by that white noise and then suddenly you begin recognizing the pattern, the notes in that profound, insane noise and appreciating that crazy sound..

You’re in for trouble, you’re loosing your mind.. that white noise has begun creeping in your life!!

And how I'll miss her.

Sisters are the quintessential parts of life, a fact probably only those would acknowledge who have one. I have two sisters and although they are much older than me, they are my best friends.

However, the person I am going to write about here is though not me real sister but she’s nothing less. She’s about two years younger than me and we’ve virtually grown up together. My earliest memories of her is of us fighting over something where I hit her and she in turn bit my hand, the tiny scar of which still remains at the back of my hand as a testimony of those innocent and crazy times.

Growing up with her was having fun, playing pranks on servants, competing for attention, laughing, and yet maintain our love and friendship for each other. After standard XII both of us landed up at NIFT, different batches and centers but distance failed to damage the bond, infact we became even closer. I shared stuff with her that I probably wouldn’t with anybody else and she, though being younger showed enormous understanding and maturity for which I respect her. She made me realize how important family was and how if all of us wanted to be together, couldn’t take grudges against each other.

You must be wondering what made me write about her.. Well, she’s getting married this July and this time when I went to my Amma’s place, with her out of station, the gravity of what I’d be missing struck me. I realized how its not going to be the same henceforth, how her laughter will not fill the house, the absence of her vivacity during festivals and family occasions, the joy she brought to all of us, those mid night conversations about life, changes, dreams and boys and how Amma’s place will never be the same again for me.

I hope she continues spreading that love and happiness in the new jaundra of her life and this time too distance be only in spaces and not hearts..

When doing nothing seems the best idea..

Places make you nostalgic, things make you nostalgic, people make you nostalgic and so do memories..

This weekend I flew down home on a whim, I flew because I was scared to be alone, I flew because nostalgia had gripped me like never before and I knew that only my parents could give me that assurance, that security I was craving for.

I went home and did nothing and that nothing was so good to do that I prolonged my stay for further two days. My routine at home was like:
~ Get up in the morning around 11-11:30 am.
~ Go to my parents’ room where my dad would be working or watching TV, hug him and take that 10 minute nap.
~ My cook would come with my usual nimbu paani, tea and toast by then.
~ Wash, brush and hog.
~ Chat with Papa for an hour or two before he left for work.
~ Shower and help Mom in the kitchen or simply sit their and talk with her.
~ Wait for Papa for lunch and eat with him.
~ Laze, read, watch TV or call my neice and nephew over to my place and play with them.
~ By 7:00 in the evening I was out with my friends and came back by 10:00-10:30 pm.
~ Again sit with my parents.
~ Read till 2:00-3:00am and dose off.

Such peace and tranquility gripped me during this time that for a while I even considered quitting my job and staying on forever.. I’ve given myself a month to sit on the thought and come up with a conclusion, lets see!!

Personally speaking..

Work for me is personal!! I give 3/4th of my day to work, beginning from getting up in the morning, preparing lunch, fighting the morning traffic to get to the office at 9.00am sharp. I slog throughout the day, tolerate my boss, bear chauvinism, survive politics, smile at people I dislike and ignore lewd stares and comments...

Once home (virtually after 10-11 hours at office), my preparation for the next day begins from buying vegetables/grocery on my way home to cooking as soon as I get back so that I can call it a night early on. I hardly go out with friends on weekdays and even get nightmares about things going wrong at work.

I feel helpless seeing a vendor in a bad shape and being rude when I ignore these zillion phone calls for I don’t have answers to the questions like when they can receive the next order so that they can re-open their factories. I get traumatized by their problems, carry work tensions into my personal life.. My day at work usually dictates the way I talk to my parents, siblings and friends and yet I am asked to believe in the phrase : “Its not personal, its business!!”

Can I??

Sigh..

It began with the evening day before. I was in the office till about 8:40 pm when the meeting got over and I was asked to display my shoeline before leaving. My presentation was to take place the next day but being a little too tired, I left the arrangement mid way and headed for home. That particular day had turned out to be a bit grueling, thanks to my colleague throwing attitude for no apparent reason.

Next day was doomsday, the meeting began at 8:45 am as decided and obviously I reached late at about 9:10am due to the heavy traffic. My boss was fuming and I got a blasting before eight senior people, which needless to say was extremely embarrassing. I then goofed it up even further by forgetting all the sales figures am supposed to remember and things got from bad to worse. All the efforts that I’d been putting in all this while and the evident results had all been overlooked. I don’t know how I controlled myself from running out of the conference room at that moment. Icing on the cake was being invited (rather ordered) for the lunch and then being totally ripped apart.

The situation is still pretty grim: my colleague is in his prolonged state of insanity, my super boss believes that I am apparently not serious about my work and the top sales team assumes that am a fool for I forgot everything..

When will things get better??

Looking up..

I just happened to visit Mansi's blog and was truly inspired by her words.

Her blog forced me to think in a direction long forgotten by me and stirred something within that I thought didn't exist, rather ignored for a long, long time..

Try going through it and am sure you'll come about as a more thoughtful, if not a better person..

P.S: Thanks Mansi for commenting on my post and thereby opening me up to hopefully a better me.

Uncluttering the clutter..

Past few days have seen me cleaning spaces: literally!! I’ve cleared my cupboard, my shoe rack, my dresser, the kitchen shelves, the refrigerator, my email and cellphone inbox(s), my desktop, my feelings, thoughts, everything I could think off.. I carefully sorted out stuff, piled them into wanted, maybe and to be discarded slots and made my decisions.

The earlier ones were easy, rather welcome. It was a long weekend and I hate doing nothing so cleaning up the place was a pleasant chore. However, soon it was all done, things at home were spick and span and I found myself thinking about those mixed emotions, that inner turmoil I ignore as much as I can, the feelings I don’t admit even to myself…

All the cleaning and organizing had left me content and motivated to go on and so I took up the challenge to clear my thoughts. I contemplated on the people I’d clung on to, the people whom I called my friends but hadn’t spoken to them since ages, the people who cared so much about me without bothering if I reciprocated; I let the first ones go, decided upon the second one and began respecting the last ones..

I relived memories (all good ones because I think only the nicer ones have the ability to make you feel sad, the bad ones provoke anger) and let them pass too..

I emptied the mess in my head and now I feel exhilarated like never before.

And that's how my Dad made my day!!

Its my Dad's Birthday today and instead of I making his day, he made mine...

ME: Happy Birthday Papa!!
PAPA: Thank you beta..
ME: So what are you doing??
PAPA: Working (in his study at home)
ME: Ohh..so who else called? Did N & G (my sisters) wish you??
PAPA: Not yet.
ME: See, I am your best daughter..right?
PAPA: Yes, you are my best daughter..

And Papa said it with such love and affection that it instantly brought a smile on my face, all my worries were dispelled and I felt all loved and pampered, just like a small child, just like his youngest daughter!!

Am I getting weird??

These days I find myself praying for Mr.Bully's (read my boss) happiness because he has the ability to screw up mine...

Saturday night..

Breaking monotony, having fun, Absolut, chips, crackers, smoke, good old days, music, laughter, insights, confessions, crying, sadness, keeping the volume low, three roomies, comfort, hesitations, going back in time, malice, cribbing, bonding, warmth, phone, conversations, depth, joy, stories of new found love, giggles, questions..

And that's how that Saturday ended, or Sunday began!!

Smile..

Desperately needing a cheer after a blasting from my boss (and expecting another one after he's done with the meeting), I decided to be stubborn and began reading old blogs of friends instead of working. I randomly reached Aparna's blog and while going through her ancient posts, came across this one.

Its a copy paste but made me smile, hope it has a similar effect on you..

Take a few minutes and read these. Think about them one at a time BEFORE going on to
the next one.........

> Falling in love.
> Laughing so hard your face hurts.
> A hot shower.
> No lines at the Super Wal-Mart.
> A special glance.
> Getting mail.
> Taking a drive on a pretty road.
> Hearing your favorite song on the radio.
> Lying in bed listening to the rain outside.
> Hot towels out of the dryer.
> Chocolate milkshake. (or vanilla!)
> A long distance phone call.
> A bubble bath.
> Giggling.
> A Good conversation.
> The beach.
> Finding a $20 bill (or $100) in your coat from last winter.
> Laughing at yourself.
> Midnight phone calls that last for hours.
> Running through sprinklers.
> Laughing for absolutely no reason at all.
> Having someone tell you that you're beautiful.
> Laughing at an inside joke.
> Friends.
> Accidentally overhearing someone say something nice about you.
> Waking up and realizing you still have a few hours left to sleep.
> Your first kiss.
> Making new friends or spending time with old ones.
> Playing with a new puppy.
> Having someone play with your hair.
> Sweet dreams.
> Hot chocolate.
> Road trips with friends.
> Swinging on swings.
> Wrapping presents under the Christmas tree while eating cookies and drinking eggnog.
> Song lyrics printed inside your new CD so you can sing along without feeling stupid.
> Going to a really good concert.
> Winning a really competitive game.
> Making chocolate chip cookies.
> Having your friends send you homemade cookies.
> Spending time with close friends.
> Seeing smiles and hearing laughter from your friends.
> Holding hands with someone you care about.
> Running into an old friend and realizing that some things (good or bad) never change.
> Riding the best roller coasters over and over.
> Watching the ex-pression on someone's face as they open a much desired present from you.
> Watching the sunrise.
> Getting out of bed every morning and thanking God for another beautiful day.

Bit by bit..

Handicrafts in India form a major source of income to the rural segment of our society. The income is meager but aspirations high. I came to realize the importance of handiwork on my last visit to Sambal, a tiny district close to a small Uttar Pradesh town of Muradabaad.

Muradabaad is primarily famous for its brass work but a lot of small crafts like “dari” (rug) making, zari work, block printing co-exist in its shadow. One such craft cluster I saw was dari making, an art where rugs are woven on a loom like, locally made machine. The material used is strips of wasted cloth or seconds blankets from Ludhiana factories.

What struck me about this place was its people and the conditions they worked under. A tiny courtyard is occupied by the loom, the cloth strips, a cooking area with utensils, domestic animals such as goats and chicken and last but not the least, a tiny cot. The artisans play loud music while working to maintain focus and are able to complete 3-4 rugs in a day.

On speaking to them about the hardships they faced while cultivating the crafts, they poured their hearts out. I was told how these poor and most of the times illiterate people were cheated by giving them huge orders and then later deceived for all the hard work put in by them. Lack of working capital forced them to borrow money at huge interest rates by pawning whatever little they had and after the production was complete, a dozen quality issues cropped up and the inspector refused to take the stock. These men were then forced to sell it off at the price desired by the buyer for the fear of hoarding stock. These craftsmen earn barely a rupee or two per piece and are even content with that.. I couldn’t believe that people could be so merciless and deprive these uneducated men of even their due share.

These artisans who are engineers, designers and pillars of a diminishing craft are dying a slow death and no one is paying heed to them. A little motivation, support and encouragement can go a long way. I am trying to do my bit and pray that the Government tries to do theirs before its too late..

Accident..

Past two days have been kinda crazy for me. I commute a distance of 5 kilometers on a cycle rickshaw, all thanks to the accident I had on Friday evening. A truck rammed into the front of my car, completely destroying the bumper, lights and the grill. So now, all credit to the awesome Gurgaon infrastructure, it takes me 45 minutes to cover a distance of 10 minutes.

Its freezing cold outside at 8:15 am (yes, that’s when I leave my home) and I have to wrap myself from head to toe before I set a foot outside. I than need to walk for about 10 minutes before I finally manage to get a rick. Once on board, I am free to look around and observe but I can’t do that either for its all dusty and your eyes are at constant threat if you dare to open them before you reach the destination. Anyhow, I do manage to squint a bit and witness people doing funny things while they halt at the red light. I see people picking their nose, combing their hair, checking themselves in the rare view mirror, applying lipstick, shouting on somebody over the phone or singing loudly along with FM in their cars and I smile..

I wonder how many of my such idiosyncrasies have been witnessed by others.. Have they seen me eating my breakfast while waiting for the light to turn green or applying lip balm that I frequently do or enjoying that piece of chocolate I have secretly hidden in my car or shouting abusives at a fellow careless driver..

Also on my rickshaw ride I feel the wind on my face, direct and so harsh that it manages to water my semi-opened eyes and yet I feel refreshed by it. I realize the worth of my car when I miss the hot air blowing at my feet from the blower and think how I would not have “really” enjoyed the winters without this experience..

I crib, I observe, I smile and I also laugh thinking of my Dad’s comment when I told him about my accident “ The world is certainly a safer place to live in with your car in the garage!!”

Growing old..

A conversation with G on his Birthday..

Me: Hey, Happy Birthday..
G: Thanks!!
Me: So whats happening?? What’ll you be doing??
G: Nothing much, will probably go out with family..
Me: Why, what happened to A, S and the rest of your friends??
G: Thay are all busy..
Me: Hmm.. Don’t worry you treat me when I come home..
G: Sure..
Me: So who else called??
G: Nobody really, just you and R..
Me: Ohhh..
G: Tell me something Sam, why do the number of calls on your Birthday decrease as you grow older??
Me: Hmm..

It was a normal Birthday kinda conversation and then suddenly with one line it changed into something else.. I began pondering on why the number of calls gradually declined once we grew older because as you grow old, you come across more people, increase your social circle.. You make some friends and lose a few but more or less its balanced..

Couldn’t figure that one out!!

Wearing six yards something..

With my brother’s marriage approaching and I being the only unmarried/ un-engaged female in the family, get more than required attention from my parents and relatives. Right now the latest hue and cry is what I’d be wearing for the “D Day”…

After a lot of discussions, arguments and fights, the junta came to a common conclusion that a sari would be the ideal choice. I was duely called home for the weekend and taken all over the city to pick what I liked. Finally when we had all given up, we went to this last boutique where I found exactly that I wanted. It was a whitish-silverish thing that caught my attention right away.

Now the guy draped the sari on me. The end was tucked, the pleats folded and secured with a belt. The loose end was draped perfectly on my shoulder and I felt transformed. I thought I’d be all clumsy and funny, (considering the fact that I never wear a salwaar kameez, let alone a sari) but nothing like that happened. I felt more mature, more in command and unfortunately a little older too. The funny, confused kid had suddenly vanished and what I saw in the mirror was a new me.

There was a kind of adrenaline rush, a fear and I so wanted to cling on to my old self. Me, who couldn’t even carry a scarf properly and giggled at the stupidest of things was feeling all grown up. But I knew that something had changed, a change that though doesn’t come about by merely changing your clothes but probably by the way you begin to view yourself, with a different perspective, a different way..

Between them and me..

Lately I’ve been going through posts which repeatedly clarify how much the authors love their parents, friends, spouses.. No offense to them but initially I thought that it was quite sweet of them to do that but gradually when the pattern repeated itself I was forced to think otherwise. I don’t understand if they are trying to convince themselves or the world of their affection towards the loved ones..

I perceive these things in a different light altogether. For me, the people I love are taken for granted. It sounds pretty crude but then I feel all the things that are really important to us like sunshine or air are there for us all the time. We don’t get up every morning and say “thank God there’s sun today” because we know that we can rely on it to come out each day.

Likewise, I don’t tell my parents/ family/ friends how much I love them all the time because they are my family and friends and they’d better be there!! I usually let my actions do most of the talking, a big hug, a tiny peck, its usually gestures and actions for me.. Probably am not a very vocal person and don’t express myself explicitly but I know that they know and I guess that’s what eventually matters..

Anyhow, its to each his own!!

Feeling good..

Winters always remind me of books, movies, everything larger than life, everything beautiful..

I drive down to work and often find myself imagining empty roads, good music and that beautiful white mist all around..Or when the work gets too hectic and life a little too confusing, I picture myself all curled up in a bean bag with a good book and hot tea..Walking down the road on a chilly morning with breeze on the face..thinking a zillion times before pouring that mug of water on my head..that hot water bottle on my feet..that accentuated smell of flowers in my room..

Winters do this to me..they rejuvenate me, make me happy about life and give me the strength to believe in the phrase: "All will be good"..

WINTERS..

Of wanting to end it on a happy note..

An end of another year,
..of memories, happiness and some regrets too..

A new begginning,
..hopefully to a great future!!

P.S: Happy New Year to all!! :)

Vanished..

They were disappearing one by one..
Till the last of them vanished..

A clue to give in..
A clue to not look back and be sad,
But cherish what there ever was..

And yet there is hope..