Introspection

               After a not so hectic but you could call it a busy day yesterday, I woke up today morning after a deep slumber. But there was chaos in mind somehow when I opened my eyes. What happens to the mind during night, when it sleeps or rather the body sleeps ? The mind must be like the mother who puts/orders her kids (organs) to sleep (slow down). The cells doing their activities slowly/rythmically, the brain cells included. O.k. but the point is why does the 'well slept mind' like a switch switched off or something for 6-8 hours, start buzzing with all the previous day's/months ? thoughts ? Ugh ! I just didn't want all that processing today morning especially after a  sound baby sleep. The thoughts, all randomly strewn were like the dancing figures in 'Tare zameen par'. What is a tranquil mind like I thought? The word tranquil is good, sort of soothing. Can the mind go 'word blank' ? 'thought blank' ? like an empty apartment, after each night and don an entirely different 'thought attire' that's new, fresh and moving, 'in the zone' ? Swami Vivekananda's peaceful face comes to the picture, meditating on the rock amidst the oceanly furore. Silence is delicious too. Utmost calm....like the few seconds halt between notes of music that creates the rhythm. 

                         At times I want to be like that, sitting on the rock, like him. But then his quest was different, for the whole mankind. Mine ? for myself ? How selfish ? And how puny ? A bigger quest, bigger the solution like what made him sit in between the three seas to meditate. Hmm ! here I am wanting a solution 'big/huge' like his, but do I want the same problems which he had ? I like Vivekananda. He was a regular guy like us i.e. had formal education, so thought like us mere mortals too. And his search was no different from ours. I wish we who share his homeland will be able to give to the west what he gave. The East is richer in things that the West doesn't have, never had. I have always felt the need to do in any minuscule way like what Vivekanand did. Am waiting...

Introspection

               After a not so hectic but you could call it a busy day yesterday, I woke up today morning after a deep slumber. But there was chaos in mind somehow when I opened my eyes. What happens to the mind during night, when it sleeps or rather the body sleeps ? The mind must be like the mother who puts/orders her kids (organs) to sleep (slow down). The cells doing their activities slowly/rythmically, the brain cells included. O.k. but the point is why does the 'well slept mind' like a switch switched off or something for 6-8 hours, start buzzing with all the previous day's/months ? thoughts ? Ugh ! I just didn't want all that processing today morning especially after a  sound baby sleep. The thoughts, all randomly strewn were like the dancing figures in 'Tare zameen par'. What is a tranquil mind like I thought? The word tranquil is good, sort of soothing. Can the mind go 'word blank' ? 'thought blank' ? like an empty apartment, after each night and don an entirely different 'thought attire' that's new, fresh and moving, 'in the zone' ? Swami Vivekananda's peaceful face comes to the picture, meditating on the rock amidst the oceanly furore. Silence is delicious too. Utmost calm....like the few seconds halt between notes of music that creates the rhythm. 

                         At times I want to be like that, sitting on the rock, like him. But then his quest was different, for the whole mankind. Mine ? for myself ? How selfish ? And how puny ? A bigger quest, bigger the solution like what made him sit in between the three seas to meditate. Hmm ! here I am wanting a solution 'big/huge' like his, but do I want the same problems which he had ? I like Vivekananda. He was a regular guy like us i.e. had formal education, so thought like us mere mortals too. And his search was no different from ours. I wish we who share his homeland will be able to give to the west what he gave. The East is richer in things that the West doesn't have, never had. I have always felt the need to do in any minuscule way like what Vivekanand did. Am waiting...

Zesty Forty

              Vibha had been sitting idle for a long time with the coffee in her hand, in the terrace adjoining her spacious bedroom, enjoying the early morning Nature Show. The birds these days made a pretty scene, with their summer calls amidst picking on the fruit or leaf or the tiny, slender stems they sat on. How could they balance themselves on that she always wondered. Once she also saw a monkey perched on top of the 'firs' ! She had immediately captured him in her movie-cam, enjoying each of his movements. Whoosh ! landed a wet turkey towel on her back.

                             What used to be irritating in the initial married years had now become a thing to get used to. Wet towels on the bed, clothes strewn on the bathroom floor, samples of hair in the wash basin etc. Uggh ! How could a man live like that not to mention the newspapers left at places where it had been read, she had thought the first few days she started living with her 'man'. He was an expert though in making her focus on 'other' important things cajoling her to enjoy life as it is implying at the same time 'don't u dare change me'. And she would give in to his demands at the moment only to get frustrated later in the day. Things had improved over the years with the wet towels landing on her than on the bed. It was fun and gave her the rare moments of  'apnapan' (closeness). She had a terrific married life albeit with little compromises which she thought was not much as compared to her friend Shital's. Even after her daughter arrived, he needed her the way same as before. What more would a woman want? Then one day her friend Shital had rung up to say she suddenly felt her life was revolving too much around her kids and she felt her talents getting rusted. She had an M.Phil in parasitology and immunology, was working as a teacher in one of the good schools in Bangalore only to quit when her second child was born. Not only that she felt that she wanted something else in life. Somewhere Vibha who had a satisfying career, felt the same too. Wasn't the advert apt saying 'Ye dil mange more'. Then she had told her friend she would get back to her. In fact both of them had searched 'Google doctor' to come up with terms like 'mid life crisis' etc etc. 

                      God ! they both thought 'Are we going the Western way?' They had discussed for long but no conversation matched the times they had lead as spinsters along with another friend Richa. Richa was married too but was in touch with her ex-boyfriend who she was going steady with but couldn't marry because his parents were against. How convenient they thought, she could have both the 'boyfriend' and a stable married life. Of late someone called Ram  had joined Vibha's office. He was very efficient and extremely good with people, was happily married too with two kids. After the initial set backs, they both found themselves enjoying each other's company but for some reasons hadn't been able to involve their families. What's wrong if two mature individuals are friends ? Vibha thought. Nothing. But her husband would always say a man and a woman could never be 'friends' for long. Physical intimacy was inevitable he said. How strange, she thought though she also agreed with him partly though. As a youngster while in college, she had male friends and very good ones with whom she shared a very healthy relationship, where nothing physical was felt. Why its perfectly possible to continue platonic relationship with the required limits set in, she had always thought.

                  Now since she knew the chemistry, she thought maybe Nikhil (her hubby) is right, but then she was beginning to share that 'perfect' friendship with Ram. And both knew each had his/her family though they talked about themselves more. There was the hitch. She found herself talking more about her to him and vice-versa. That had not happened for quite a while with Nikhil, busy they had been with their marital life. 'Never mind, let me have a good time at least' she had thought. Or is it the 'Forty factor'? she mused. What is with forty? Men (and women) getting naughty at forty ? What rubbish ! she had never believed in the 'age old truths'. She had mentioned to Shital, strangely she didn't feel guilty of getting closer to Ram at all, as she was committed to Niknil 100 %. Shital had cautioned her. One fine day she told Nikhil about Ram as she had always shared everything about her with him so far. Nikhil wanted to meet him and meet they all did at a party. She found Nikhil a bit confused that evening and when she asked him what was it, he had said 'Nothing'. 

                    Days passed with life going on as it is but she found Nikhil a bit different. She confronted him asking what was it that bothered him. He didn't tell her anything, instead took her out that evening and they didn't feel like coming back home, having spent the times like they did years before. It was then Nikhil told her, he was not comfortable initially with her sharing a friendship with Ram. And he had introspected and found the answer. You can live a committed life like marriage but events like these are like spices sprinkled which make it piquant.

Zesty Forty

              Vibha had been sitting idle for a long time with the coffee in her hand, in the terrace adjoining her spacious bedroom, enjoying the early morning Nature Show. The birds these days made a pretty scene, with their summer calls amidst picking on the fruit or leaf or the tiny, slender stems they sat on. How could they balance themselves on that she always wondered. Once she also saw a monkey perched on top of the 'firs' ! She had immediately captured him in her movie-cam, enjoying each of his movements. Whoosh ! landed a wet turkey towel on her back.

                             What used to be irritating in the initial married years had now become a thing to get used to. Wet towels on the bed, clothes strewn on the bathroom floor, samples of hair in the wash basin etc. Uggh ! How could a man live like that not to mention the newspapers left at places where it had been read, she had thought the first few days she started living with her 'man'. He was an expert though in making her focus on 'other' important things cajoling her to enjoy life as it is implying at the same time 'don't u dare change me'. And she would give in to his demands at the moment only to get frustrated later in the day. Things had improved over the years with the wet towels landing on her than on the bed. It was fun and gave her the rare moments of  'apnapan' (closeness). She had a terrific married life albeit with little compromises which she thought was not much as compared to her friend Shital's. Even after her daughter arrived, he needed her the way same as before. What more would a woman want? Then one day her friend Shital had rung up to say she suddenly felt her life was revolving too much around her kids and she felt her talents getting rusted. She had an M.Phil in parasitology and immunology, was working as a teacher in one of the good schools in Bangalore only to quit when her second child was born. Not only that she felt that she wanted something else in life. Somewhere Vibha who had a satisfying career, felt the same too. Wasn't the advert apt saying 'Ye dil mange more'. Then she had told her friend she would get back to her. In fact both of them had searched 'Google doctor' to come up with terms like 'mid life crisis' etc etc. 

                      God ! they both thought 'Are we going the Western way?' They had discussed for long but no conversation matched the times they had lead as spinsters along with another friend Richa. Richa was married too but was in touch with her ex-boyfriend who she was going steady with but couldn't marry because his parents were against. How convenient they thought, she could have both the 'boyfriend' and a stable married life. Of late someone called Ram  had joined Vibha's office. He was very efficient and extremely good with people, was happily married too with two kids. After the initial set backs, they both found themselves enjoying each other's company but for some reasons hadn't been able to involve their families. What's wrong if two mature individuals are friends ? Vibha thought. Nothing. But her husband would always say a man and a woman could never be 'friends' for long. Physical intimacy was inevitable he said. How strange, she thought though she also agreed with him partly though. As a youngster while in college, she had male friends and very good ones with whom she shared a very healthy relationship, where nothing physical was felt. Why its perfectly possible to continue platonic relationship with the required limits set in, she had always thought.

                  Now since she knew the chemistry, she thought maybe Nikhil (her hubby) is right, but then she was beginning to share that 'perfect' friendship with Ram. And both knew each had his/her family though they talked about themselves more. There was the hitch. She found herself talking more about her to him and vice-versa. That had not happened for quite a while with Nikhil, busy they had been with their marital life. 'Never mind, let me have a good time at least' she had thought. Or is it the 'Forty factor'? she mused. What is with forty? Men (and women) getting naughty at forty ? What rubbish ! she had never believed in the 'age old truths'. She had mentioned to Shital, strangely she didn't feel guilty of getting closer to Ram at all, as she was committed to Niknil 100 %. Shital had cautioned her. One fine day she told Nikhil about Ram as she had always shared everything about her with him so far. Nikhil wanted to meet him and meet they all did at a party. She found Nikhil a bit confused that evening and when she asked him what was it, he had said 'Nothing'. 

                    Days passed with life going on as it is but she found Nikhil a bit different. She confronted him asking what was it that bothered him. He didn't tell her anything, instead took her out that evening and they didn't feel like coming back home, having spent the times like they did years before. It was then Nikhil told her, he was not comfortable initially with her sharing a friendship with Ram. And he had introspected and found the answer. You can live a committed life like marriage but events like these are like spices sprinkled which make it piquant.

Tussle

With self...

God or higher power or intelligence...

is a tough lover...

He wants you to believe

he's with you

but tests at times

to know whether you really believe 

he's by your side

why ? I ask

its like pinching and then asking 

'did it hurt?'

I love to believe the lyrics of the song..(dostana)

Tu hai tho tedhi medhi rahen seedhey lagtey hai...

ulti pulti baten sachchey lagtey hai..

Jane kyu dil janta hai,

thu hai tho I'll b alright

And the one from Jumbo

...Dil mey rakhna thu faith, this world is a lovely place..

jab tak dil mey hai fight, everything's gonna b alright.

Walk I shall

Stumble I may

Get up everytime

 I have to...

I struggled to come out into the world

as much as my creator did

after sitting tied up for whole 9 months

Why do I forget that?

there'll always be strife

Between the first breath and the last...

Tussle

With self...

God or higher power or intelligence...

is a tough lover...

He wants you to believe

he's with you

but tests at times

to know whether you really believe 

he's by your side

why ? I ask

its like pinching and then asking 

'did it hurt?'

I love to believe the lyrics of the song..(dostana)

Tu hai tho tedhi medhi rahen seedhey lagtey hai...

ulti pulti baten sachchey lagtey hai..

Jane kyu dil janta hai,

thu hai tho I'll b alright

And the one from Jumbo

...Dil mey rakhna thu faith, this world is a lovely place..

jab tak dil mey hai fight, everything's gonna b alright.

Walk I shall

Stumble I may

Get up everytime

 I have to...

I struggled to come out into the world

as much as my creator did

after sitting tied up for whole 9 months

Why do I forget that?

there'll always be strife

Between the first breath and the last...

Meanderings

What am I holding back ?

I ask my life...

If there was a short cut...

to reach that side..

which would throw open a whole gush of-

cascade...

like I would flow...

You reach at times

you miss at some point

At times you are on a path

 side by side,

like the 'comma', it says that somethings go on

there's no destination...

there are milestones, travelers

one to show that journey is still on

the other to hold hands that say carry on.

Meanderings

What am I holding back ?

I ask my life...

If there was a short cut...

to reach that side..

which would throw open a whole gush of-

cascade...

like I would flow...

You reach at times

you miss at some point

At times you are on a path

 side by side,

like the 'comma', it says that somethings go on

there's no destination...

there are milestones, travelers

one to show that journey is still on

the other to hold hands that say carry on.

Why FB ? Why Blog ?

This one was the latest topic of the couple of arguements I regularly have with my 'sometimes ex-friend' and 'most times husband'. And also one of the reasons why I am not visiting FB. A rebel that I am, Shobha De gives me courage when she mentions in 'Spouse' about not wearing 'Salwar kurta at all because the 'husband' doesn't like her in that attire ! Wish there was a whole set of T.V. crew to record this debate that brought down every explanation on Earth, 'the Need to express' from my side and from 'Him' all the logical reasons of the potential harms of social networking sites, and how it was no different from writing on the 'Roadside Walls' where anyone and everyone could read. Now can you imagine guys 'kya beetee hogee mere dil pe yar' ? 

                        How can I explain that inexplicable feeling ( a yummy one ) that I get when I blog or  connect, wall or no wall. The whole cyber world where words hang between the zillions of souls spread across, I am o.k. with that, not 'the Husband'. I told him I could keep track of my 'globe trotting bro' who is a regular on F.B. plus those far placed cousins in the U.S. whose lives I could take a peek into, with their kids and spouses and not only that I even 'met' 'his' wonderful  relatives on the world wide web yar. I even coaxed my two best pals residing in the country to open and a/c so that we could connect, in fact one is so busy with her two kids that I had to teach her how to open an a/c etc. , me very happy to guide of course. Then there are friends from the Insti where I work with whom I could even shoptalk. Oh! and not to mention the students whom I invited saying that using social networking sites can help improve their 'English' language. Man, I agree I at times tend to overlook the flip side when I start digging the positive side of something, as the positives seems to outweigh the negative ones like this feature about F.B. I saw in a recent issue of the Reader's Digest, one of my favourite magazines 'Face book users are Narcissists- a recent survey suggests'. O.k. so what I said. Yes I was getting addicted to this delicious thing, which actually started with my son teaching me to open an orkut account while he opened his own ! Once going through his profile, I did not like that he mentioned he was '18' years old ! And imagine a 13 year old being labelled 'sexy' ! And there I asked my VIIIth std son what that exactly meant ? Few days back we did have a session on the topic which's a part of the science curriculum. And he was like 'Mamma, I don't know, my friends must have labelled, you don't label yourself on orkut, cummon dummy'. The last word he started using for me ever since he saw 'Home Alone'. Well coming back, the tussle between 'us adults', let me shorten the story, resulted in one positive thing--The Friend resurfaced, telling me what it means to connect in the 'real sense'. Fine I said, but what about the writer in me boss? Oh ! he had a 'magnanimous answer' for that too which I thought was sweet but it had to wait. Till then I said I shall blog.

Why FB ? Why Blog ?

This one was the latest topic of the couple of arguements I regularly have with my 'sometimes ex-friend' and 'most times husband'. And also one of the reasons why I am not visiting FB. A rebel that I am, Shobha De gives me courage when she mentions in 'Spouse' about not wearing 'Salwar kurta at all because the 'husband' doesn't like her in that attire ! Wish there was a whole set of T.V. crew to record this debate that brought down every explanation on Earth, 'the Need to express' from my side and from 'Him' all the logical reasons of the potential harms of social networking sites, and how it was no different from writing on the 'Roadside Walls' where anyone and everyone could read. Now can you imagine guys 'kya beetee hogee mere dil pe yar' ? 

                        How can I explain that inexplicable feeling ( a yummy one ) that I get when I blog or  connect, wall or no wall. The whole cyber world where words hang between the zillions of souls spread across, I am o.k. with that, not 'the Husband'. I told him I could keep track of my 'globe trotting bro' who is a regular on F.B. plus those far placed cousins in the U.S. whose lives I could take a peek into, with their kids and spouses and not only that I even 'met' 'his' wonderful  relatives on the world wide web yar. I even coaxed my two best pals residing in the country to open and a/c so that we could connect, in fact one is so busy with her two kids that I had to teach her how to open an a/c etc. , me very happy to guide of course. Then there are friends from the Insti where I work with whom I could even shoptalk. Oh! and not to mention the students whom I invited saying that using social networking sites can help improve their 'English' language. Man, I agree I at times tend to overlook the flip side when I start digging the positive side of something, as the positives seems to outweigh the negative ones like this feature about F.B. I saw in a recent issue of the Reader's Digest, one of my favourite magazines 'Face book users are Narcissists- a recent survey suggests'. O.k. so what I said. Yes I was getting addicted to this delicious thing, which actually started with my son teaching me to open an orkut account while he opened his own ! Once going through his profile, I did not like that he mentioned he was '18' years old ! And imagine a 13 year old being labelled 'sexy' ! And there I asked my VIIIth std son what that exactly meant ? Few days back we did have a session on the topic which's a part of the science curriculum. And he was like 'Mamma, I don't know, my friends must have labelled, you don't label yourself on orkut, cummon dummy'. The last word he started using for me ever since he saw 'Home Alone'. Well coming back, the tussle between 'us adults', let me shorten the story, resulted in one positive thing--The Friend resurfaced, telling me what it means to connect in the 'real sense'. Fine I said, but what about the writer in me boss? Oh ! he had a 'magnanimous answer' for that too which I thought was sweet but it had to wait. Till then I said I shall blog.

Summer Camps

There is this endless list of summer camps coming in the daily Newspaper each trying to advertise something 'Fancy' something 'New'. While in the process of 'thinking' to put my son in one of them, memories of how we spent the vacation pop up. Summer to us in the '70s and '80s meant camping at home with  aunts and uncles/cousins either their home  or ours. We couldn't keep count of how time flew unlike now when parents have to think to keep their offsprings busy every hour, to make them 'productive' to let them do something 'constructive' and such sorts. Sometimes I think shouldn't we let our children 'do nothing' for few days in summer at least, i.e. leave them to decide how they want to spend a typical summer day at home apart from sleeping, eating and other routine work. Of  course I am talking about the children with a parent or grandparent at home. No television of course, that's the condition.  We as children used to get bored (there was no idiot box then) and the only way to ward off boredom was to read comics (my favourite was Mandrake and Phantom), Amar Chitra Katha or play for hours together with friends. For me it also meant an  escape to the terrace, watch variety of birds and trees, the changing moods of the sky etc. which prompted me to start writing about them. The changing of summer season to the Rainy was the most captivating one. The whiff of the just wet soil from the 1st showers of the Monsoon and  the thrill of the tiny droplets, watch grass sprout everywhere where there was none before, run bare feet on the muddy grounds, wonder at the umbrellas of greens on the once naked trees and many such things.

               But the most memorable ones are those spent with cousins and granny. Now the cousins are scattered all around the country and the globe but the bond still remains, and such that even if we meet after decades, irrespective of the lives we lead, we can bank on having a good time together. The relationship built during childhood are so strong that they make you feel 'rich' in your later years.  I don't know, being 'People Rich' has always made sense to me. The camps are good once in few years but its also good to enable children bond with their cousins and the extended family frequently as they now have the time to do so. 

        As for me, still unable to decide, whether to pack him off to his 'Nani's house' or to a 'Camp', I have involved my son to conduct 'activity class' which is being run by the Society's 'Ladies Club', along with his grandparents who are having a good time with the children as well. 

           

Summer Camps

There is this endless list of summer camps coming in the daily Newspaper each trying to advertise something 'Fancy' something 'New'. While in the process of 'thinking' to put my son in one of them, memories of how we spent the vacation pop up. Summer to us in the '70s and '80s meant camping at home with  aunts and uncles/cousins either their home  or ours. We couldn't keep count of how time flew unlike now when parents have to think to keep their offsprings busy every hour, to make them 'productive' to let them do something 'constructive' and such sorts. Sometimes I think shouldn't we let our children 'do nothing' for few days in summer at least, i.e. leave them to decide how they want to spend a typical summer day at home apart from sleeping, eating and other routine work. Of  course I am talking about the children with a parent or grandparent at home. No television of course, that's the condition.  We as children used to get bored (there was no idiot box then) and the only way to ward off boredom was to read comics (my favourite was Mandrake and Phantom), Amar Chitra Katha or play for hours together with friends. For me it also meant an  escape to the terrace, watch variety of birds and trees, the changing moods of the sky etc. which prompted me to start writing about them. The changing of summer season to the Rainy was the most captivating one. The whiff of the just wet soil from the 1st showers of the Monsoon and  the thrill of the tiny droplets, watch grass sprout everywhere where there was none before, run bare feet on the muddy grounds, wonder at the umbrellas of greens on the once naked trees and many such things.

               But the most memorable ones are those spent with cousins and granny. Now the cousins are scattered all around the country and the globe but the bond still remains, and such that even if we meet after decades, irrespective of the lives we lead, we can bank on having a good time together. The relationship built during childhood are so strong that they make you feel 'rich' in your later years.  I don't know, being 'People Rich' has always made sense to me. The camps are good once in few years but its also good to enable children bond with their cousins and the extended family frequently as they now have the time to do so. 

        As for me, still unable to decide, whether to pack him off to his 'Nani's house' or to a 'Camp', I have involved my son to conduct 'activity class' which is being run by the Society's 'Ladies Club', along with his grandparents who are having a good time with the children as well. 

           

Fountainhead

A well is its synonym

A vacuum-this's what the mind says

Yes, a well can be filled..

Void ? Space ?

Did anything exist here before ?

That's now emptied ?

If that is so

Then life's waiting...sure it will

Wandering thoughts, mysterious journeys

Known traveler

who for reasons known to him

halts.

The heart goes out for him

reason says stop!

So hitched I am

Life's new lesson

Am willing to take

 there's so much to learn

Fountainhead

A well is its synonym

A vacuum-this's what the mind says

Yes, a well can be filled..

Void ? Space ?

Did anything exist here before ?

That's now emptied ?

If that is so

Then life's waiting...sure it will

Wandering thoughts, mysterious journeys

Known traveler

who for reasons known to him

halts.

The heart goes out for him

reason says stop!

So hitched I am

Life's new lesson

Am willing to take

 there's so much to learn

At a cousin's wedding

Her P.G. exams over, she thought of chilling out all by herself because she was far away from her pals, one in Delhi and the other in Chennai. She had recently shifted to Bangalore, not knowing where to head, she thought of walking down the avenue. The tree cover was soothing in the Summer evening. Walking was her favourite activity. She could align her thoughts in the moods she wanted, think of things that mattered to her, or just watch the birds that made a guest appearance on the swaying branches. Funny, she would ignore the cows and dogs that were so much a part of Indian Roads (she wondered why their sight didn't arouse anything to write the way a parrot or even a sparrow did). Well off late she had started observing people too !

                            She reached home and got to know that she had to go for a Wedding reception. Her cousin had got married recently, and aunty needed help, her mother said. Fine ! may be she would find something/someone interesting there, she thought. The Brother-in-law spoke a lot with her which surprised her cousin because he hadn't spoken much to anyone so far. Well,' saali (Hindi word for wife's sister) effect I guess' she thought. The saali-jeeja relationship (husband and his wife's sis) was a favourite of many Hindi movies. She was experiencing it the first time. And she liked her Software Engineer Jeeja. He spoke sense i.e. asked interesting questions, different from what one usually asks on meeting a stranger-relative. The evening went off really well with all of them going out for chaat/pani puris/the famous Jalaram's kachori and ending with the K.C. Das Sweets on the Church street, one of  the few outlets in Bangalore's plush locality, serving unique Bengali savouries. The next day the Brother-in-law's cousins arrived. One of them was really a handsome material (her friend used 'material' too often ie husband material, boyfriend material etc.) Moderately fair, (couldn't place him in TDH category) a bit short or almost her height, sharp features including a well groomed moustache which she wouldn't call pencil sharp though. Good taste of clothes too, she observed and a neatly shaven face. Hmm ! so far so good. 'I hope he speaks something sensible/interesting at par with the personality he projected', she thought. Few guys whom she had met through cousins or friends in the past, she found were either interested in 'I shall include you too in my girlfriends list' kind of thing as if they were doing a favour or was it some indicator of their 'maleness' !! Some of them spoke too much, some aired their opinions like they owned the world or worse some even narrated 'their ex-girlfriend tales'. Not that she didn't like any one of them because she always tried to find something special in each of them as she thought that no human being is despicable. Each had something that had a meaning. But she hadn't been able to go that far to 'explore' any of them given the disciplined atmosphere at home and a vigilant mother.

               Coming back she found out that his name was Mayank. Unusual name and when she asked him its meaning, he told 'Moon'. All this time they all conversed in Hindi or English. Mayank was silent. Now that bothered her, for there was something in the 'silent male species' that attracted her. Never mind she told herself, as she had got used to such reactions from herself. Her cousin suggested they all go out for a movie in the evening. There was a Multiplex close by and they all could walk down chatting at leisure. So walk they did with usual banter when all of a sudden Mayank stopped when he heard her answer her Jeejaji in Kannada. And everyone looked at him questioningly. He was not at all ruffled and stood with ease looking at her which sent down the familiar shivers through her and the shameless heartbeats. Sometimes she didn't like all this happening, as she felt she was losing control of herself  or she was giving in. Well, Macho boy spoke at last,'Hey you know kannada?' Now what had that got to do with his sudden interest, she wondered. And on further knowing that she belonged to the same caste/creed/community or whatever, he was all the time besides her, though not boring. Well she thought about all the thoughts that run through a Man's mind before he selects someone for his 'wife' or ' wife material' ! Hmm ! if he is thinking that then its Good Bye, she decided because she just wasn't comfortable with 'my community/my religion/this's how its done etc etc'. She wasn't sure if he was thinking all that, but then her train of thoughts were always ready at the slightest input of stimulus. She found he was witty, good to be around with and a charming conversationalist. Was in the fourth year Diploma Printing Technology, had given a couple of Campus Interviews. Interesting she thought. 

                                     Then the Wedding Reception day arrived and she was put to the task of taking care of guests. Already she was looking after the Brother-in-law and party as is the custom in Indian Weddings ie of giving due importance to the groom and his relatives. the Bride's side has to serve them well. All the more reasons for Ravi to observe her, she found and she thought,'Ughh ! there he goes', perhaps thinking,'Looks after the people well, knows to cook, is educated.....' While she was escorting an elderly lady, he signalled her to come aside and she did. He told her he wasn't feeling well, now what's that she wondered. But he did look like he was going to have a severe bout of cold so she told him there was a medical store nearby. As expected he asked her to tag along. And he told her that she looked beautiful. Well there he goes, line no. 1. Then he said he liked her. O.K. line 2. What did she think about him? She told him he was 'interesting' that's all. A sort of secret closeness established that was not formal, was informal neither, a sort of man to woman 'talk'.They came back with the 'Cold n cough' medicines. The next day evening the brother-in-law and party had to leave and she found the 'Hero' sulking. Now that was a weakness with her. She had to ask any person whom she perceived as 'sad' the reason and she would try in her own way to help them deal with whatever they were up to. She had mellowed down after all these years and with few not so good experiences, still she thought she had a right to ask the Ravi guy. And Voila she did. Guess what, he just mumbles few sentences like 'It was nice here etc etc' and fishes out a Grand and offers it to her. She was taken aback as she had never experienced this kind. Well she asks what for? And he says for all the good time they spent together, he wanted to gift her something but the place being new and not having enough time to know her tastes, this made sense. She thought it sounded good, his words but something was wrong with the money part. And she told him she felt the same way and the moments they shared was a very good gift in itself and no thanks she just can't accept it. He somehow wasn't convinced (didn't I tell you in the previous short story, Men take time to get convinced, even from the female species whom they may be attracted to).  He offered it once again and when she declined, he went out of the house to her surprise. She went behind to be stopped by the 'Uncle' who asked what the matter was by the way and where was she going? The Great Indian Household that seeks answers from the girl species for any action they think is out of place. She mumbled some satisfactory answers and went out. The guy walking up and down the garden...and he was smoking ! Oh ! its that serious she thought. She had to go in as she was called. Finally departure time and all the proper words said and done, He and she bid adieu to each other through the expressions on the faces which only they could understand.

At a cousin's wedding

Her P.G. exams over, she thought of chilling out all by herself because she was far away from her pals, one in Delhi and the other in Chennai. She had recently shifted to Bangalore, not knowing where to head, she thought of walking down the avenue. The tree cover was soothing in the Summer evening. Walking was her favourite activity. She could align her thoughts in the moods she wanted, think of things that mattered to her, or just watch the birds that made a guest appearance on the swaying branches. Funny, she would ignore the cows and dogs that were so much a part of Indian Roads (she wondered why their sight didn't arouse anything to write the way a parrot or even a sparrow did). Well off late she had started observing people too !

                            She reached home and got to know that she had to go for a Wedding reception. Her cousin had got married recently, and aunty needed help, her mother said. Fine ! may be she would find something/someone interesting there, she thought. The Brother-in-law spoke a lot with her which surprised her cousin because he hadn't spoken much to anyone so far. Well,' saali (Hindi word for wife's sister) effect I guess' she thought. The saali-jeeja relationship (husband and his wife's sis) was a favourite of many Hindi movies. She was experiencing it the first time. And she liked her Software Engineer Jeeja. He spoke sense i.e. asked interesting questions, different from what one usually asks on meeting a stranger-relative. The evening went off really well with all of them going out for chaat/pani puris/the famous Jalaram's kachori and ending with the K.C. Das Sweets on the Church street, one of  the few outlets in Bangalore's plush locality, serving unique Bengali savouries. The next day the Brother-in-law's cousins arrived. One of them was really a handsome material (her friend used 'material' too often ie husband material, boyfriend material etc.) Moderately fair, (couldn't place him in TDH category) a bit short or almost her height, sharp features including a well groomed moustache which she wouldn't call pencil sharp though. Good taste of clothes too, she observed and a neatly shaven face. Hmm ! so far so good. 'I hope he speaks something sensible/interesting at par with the personality he projected', she thought. Few guys whom she had met through cousins or friends in the past, she found were either interested in 'I shall include you too in my girlfriends list' kind of thing as if they were doing a favour or was it some indicator of their 'maleness' !! Some of them spoke too much, some aired their opinions like they owned the world or worse some even narrated 'their ex-girlfriend tales'. Not that she didn't like any one of them because she always tried to find something special in each of them as she thought that no human being is despicable. Each had something that had a meaning. But she hadn't been able to go that far to 'explore' any of them given the disciplined atmosphere at home and a vigilant mother.

               Coming back she found out that his name was Mayank. Unusual name and when she asked him its meaning, he told 'Moon'. All this time they all conversed in Hindi or English. Mayank was silent. Now that bothered her, for there was something in the 'silent male species' that attracted her. Never mind she told herself, as she had got used to such reactions from herself. Her cousin suggested they all go out for a movie in the evening. There was a Multiplex close by and they all could walk down chatting at leisure. So walk they did with usual banter when all of a sudden Mayank stopped when he heard her answer her Jeejaji in Kannada. And everyone looked at him questioningly. He was not at all ruffled and stood with ease looking at her which sent down the familiar shivers through her and the shameless heartbeats. Sometimes she didn't like all this happening, as she felt she was losing control of herself  or she was giving in. Well, Macho boy spoke at last,'Hey you know kannada?' Now what had that got to do with his sudden interest, she wondered. And on further knowing that she belonged to the same caste/creed/community or whatever, he was all the time besides her, though not boring. Well she thought about all the thoughts that run through a Man's mind before he selects someone for his 'wife' or ' wife material' ! Hmm ! if he is thinking that then its Good Bye, she decided because she just wasn't comfortable with 'my community/my religion/this's how its done etc etc'. She wasn't sure if he was thinking all that, but then her train of thoughts were always ready at the slightest input of stimulus. She found he was witty, good to be around with and a charming conversationalist. Was in the fourth year Diploma Printing Technology, had given a couple of Campus Interviews. Interesting she thought. 

                                     Then the Wedding Reception day arrived and she was put to the task of taking care of guests. Already she was looking after the Brother-in-law and party as is the custom in Indian Weddings ie of giving due importance to the groom and his relatives. the Bride's side has to serve them well. All the more reasons for Ravi to observe her, she found and she thought,'Ughh ! there he goes', perhaps thinking,'Looks after the people well, knows to cook, is educated.....' While she was escorting an elderly lady, he signalled her to come aside and she did. He told her he wasn't feeling well, now what's that she wondered. But he did look like he was going to have a severe bout of cold so she told him there was a medical store nearby. As expected he asked her to tag along. And he told her that she looked beautiful. Well there he goes, line no. 1. Then he said he liked her. O.K. line 2. What did she think about him? She told him he was 'interesting' that's all. A sort of secret closeness established that was not formal, was informal neither, a sort of man to woman 'talk'.They came back with the 'Cold n cough' medicines. The next day evening the brother-in-law and party had to leave and she found the 'Hero' sulking. Now that was a weakness with her. She had to ask any person whom she perceived as 'sad' the reason and she would try in her own way to help them deal with whatever they were up to. She had mellowed down after all these years and with few not so good experiences, still she thought she had a right to ask the Ravi guy. And Voila she did. Guess what, he just mumbles few sentences like 'It was nice here etc etc' and fishes out a Grand and offers it to her. She was taken aback as she had never experienced this kind. Well she asks what for? And he says for all the good time they spent together, he wanted to gift her something but the place being new and not having enough time to know her tastes, this made sense. She thought it sounded good, his words but something was wrong with the money part. And she told him she felt the same way and the moments they shared was a very good gift in itself and no thanks she just can't accept it. He somehow wasn't convinced (didn't I tell you in the previous short story, Men take time to get convinced, even from the female species whom they may be attracted to).  He offered it once again and when she declined, he went out of the house to her surprise. She went behind to be stopped by the 'Uncle' who asked what the matter was by the way and where was she going? The Great Indian Household that seeks answers from the girl species for any action they think is out of place. She mumbled some satisfactory answers and went out. The guy walking up and down the garden...and he was smoking ! Oh ! its that serious she thought. She had to go in as she was called. Finally departure time and all the proper words said and done, He and she bid adieu to each other through the expressions on the faces which only they could understand.

Darkness of the sky

How can the pristine blue sky go dark at night?

The Moon beams on...

And the white cloudy blanket spreads before the eyes...

The blues are visible though...

peeping thru' the mass

I want to take in the sensational azure

All of it...

Night ! Unveil...

Let me wear...the Lapis lazuli...

And the tiara of stars...

'n' walk on my toes verily...

Darkness of the sky

How can the pristine blue sky go dark at night?

The Moon beams on...

And the white cloudy blanket spreads before the eyes...

The blues are visible though...

peeping thru' the mass

I want to take in the sensational azure

All of it...

Night ! Unveil...

Let me wear...the Lapis lazuli...

And the tiara of stars...

'n' walk on my toes verily...

First lesson...contd

What was it with boys and alcohol, she had asked Ray and how he would always know about them? Like she would learn eventually about the 'MEN' species, he never answered certain questions and would get away with a mysterious smile which said,'Men's secret lady', which irritated her. Why did men behave like they knew everything around them ? Yup ! she agreed, given the protected environment she was brought up in, like other girls in Indian society, the worldly knowledge had to be limited. Somehow she wanted to try the forbidden part of her life. 

        Now he was in his 3rd year Engineering, not a topper but sharp, always the peacemaker in the group, would resolve conflicts, enjoyed novels, Western Music etc. She had heard, he had a girlfriend too. Somehow this knowledge made her feel light i.e. she would think 'Good. Affair ka jhanjhat nahee hoga (Don't have to get involved with him).'  So she found she could talk to him for hours and he always seemed interested. She didn't know that he was a great listener too. He just had to ask,'What's the matter Ann ?' And she would go on and on.

          The days they didn't meet, she felt vacant, as if something was missing. She had few friends and two best ones. With the two best friends, she was herself, their thoughts matched and what was interesting was there was little 'girl' talks. The three hung out together very often in the library or in the City centre after the college hours. Yes they did talk about the guys that interested them. The two waited everyday to hear her encounters with Ray. Well and the day Ray turned up, she would literally fight with him demanding an explanation. How naive she was, she didn't know. Unknown to herself she was getting involved with him. Then the inevitable happened. She moved to another city to join another course. Hostel life, a new beginning. He passed out his Engineering. They often had arguements over 'Love Marriages'. She didn't believe in them and he did strongly. Marriage somehow didn't interest her, and she thought focusing on career made sense. She had seen her parent's married life and that was o.k. but not worth investing whole life on. The 'miss him' factor remained though. Vassu, her best friend asked her to wait, not to reveal her feelings to him. He will speak out if he feels and can't keep to himself anymore, she said. And she obeyed. An opportunity to submit a paper for a thesis preceeding M.Phil program at Oxford appeared in the college bulletin. She started getting ready for that. She told Vassu, may be he is going steady with his girlfriend. Strange but she felt he was interested in her. It was then she asked one of her friends in the group they shared, who was older and experienced, was going steady with a boy, how can a girl know if a boy is interested in her, rather how can she be sure of it. And 'didi' said,'Look into his eyes. They will tell you.' Well she thought what was new? She had always looked into his eyes and talked and it made sense didn't it? How else does one talk, she pondered. He also looked at her umpteen times while talking and she hadn't found his gaze scrutinising like the other guys did ! Yeah ! It comes naturally to girls, distinguishing a dirty look from a decent one, a teasing look from a mean one. Back to the topic, she couldn't make head or tail of the 'eyes' factor. But yes she had felt some strange feeling that made her feel they were bound by an invisible force, between them when they stood together and talked, something which she felt they shared. What was it she had wanted to know but finding no answer, she just enjoyed it. It was like he knew it too as she did. Only they didn't talk about it. 

               Finally it happened. He told her he wanted to meet her alone to discuss something important. Meet they did. He told her he had never experienced like this before, had promised himself wouldn't get involved with a friend's sister because of something that had happened in the past. But he couldn't concentrate on anything he said and he found it impossible to go ahead in life without sorting this out. He wanted to marry her. She didn't want marriage. What's wrong if they were friends forever. He said there can never be a friendship between a boy and a girl and a long one at that. She believed in the opposite. She strongly believed a platonic relationship was possible. And she was bold enough to declare it to the world if needed. He didn't agree at all. Men, she thought, were difficult to convince. Again why did she feel he knew something more and he sounded right too. O. K. she said. 

First lesson...contd

What was it with boys and alcohol, she had asked Ray and how he would always know about them? Like she would learn eventually about the 'MEN' species, he never answered certain questions and would get away with a mysterious smile which said,'Men's secret lady', which irritated her. Why did men behave like they knew everything around them ? Yup ! she agreed, given the protected environment she was brought up in, like other girls in Indian society, the worldly knowledge had to be limited. Somehow she wanted to try the forbidden part of her life. 

        Now he was in his 3rd year Engineering, not a topper but sharp, always the peacemaker in the group, would resolve conflicts, enjoyed novels, Western Music etc. She had heard, he had a girlfriend too. Somehow this knowledge made her feel light i.e. she would think 'Good. Affair ka jhanjhat nahee hoga (Don't have to get involved with him).'  So she found she could talk to him for hours and he always seemed interested. She didn't know that he was a great listener too. He just had to ask,'What's the matter Ann ?' And she would go on and on.

          The days they didn't meet, she felt vacant, as if something was missing. She had few friends and two best ones. With the two best friends, she was herself, their thoughts matched and what was interesting was there was little 'girl' talks. The three hung out together very often in the library or in the City centre after the college hours. Yes they did talk about the guys that interested them. The two waited everyday to hear her encounters with Ray. Well and the day Ray turned up, she would literally fight with him demanding an explanation. How naive she was, she didn't know. Unknown to herself she was getting involved with him. Then the inevitable happened. She moved to another city to join another course. Hostel life, a new beginning. He passed out his Engineering. They often had arguements over 'Love Marriages'. She didn't believe in them and he did strongly. Marriage somehow didn't interest her, and she thought focusing on career made sense. She had seen her parent's married life and that was o.k. but not worth investing whole life on. The 'miss him' factor remained though. Vassu, her best friend asked her to wait, not to reveal her feelings to him. He will speak out if he feels and can't keep to himself anymore, she said. And she obeyed. An opportunity to submit a paper for a thesis preceeding M.Phil program at Oxford appeared in the college bulletin. She started getting ready for that. She told Vassu, may be he is going steady with his girlfriend. Strange but she felt he was interested in her. It was then she asked one of her friends in the group they shared, who was older and experienced, was going steady with a boy, how can a girl know if a boy is interested in her, rather how can she be sure of it. And 'didi' said,'Look into his eyes. They will tell you.' Well she thought what was new? She had always looked into his eyes and talked and it made sense didn't it? How else does one talk, she pondered. He also looked at her umpteen times while talking and she hadn't found his gaze scrutinising like the other guys did ! Yeah ! It comes naturally to girls, distinguishing a dirty look from a decent one, a teasing look from a mean one. Back to the topic, she couldn't make head or tail of the 'eyes' factor. But yes she had felt some strange feeling that made her feel they were bound by an invisible force, between them when they stood together and talked, something which she felt they shared. What was it she had wanted to know but finding no answer, she just enjoyed it. It was like he knew it too as she did. Only they didn't talk about it. 

               Finally it happened. He told her he wanted to meet her alone to discuss something important. Meet they did. He told her he had never experienced like this before, had promised himself wouldn't get involved with a friend's sister because of something that had happened in the past. But he couldn't concentrate on anything he said and he found it impossible to go ahead in life without sorting this out. He wanted to marry her. She didn't want marriage. What's wrong if they were friends forever. He said there can never be a friendship between a boy and a girl and a long one at that. She believed in the opposite. She strongly believed a platonic relationship was possible. And she was bold enough to declare it to the world if needed. He didn't agree at all. Men, she thought, were difficult to convince. Again why did she feel he knew something more and he sounded right too. O. K. she said. 

First lesson on boys

She laid down on the swing, a half read book on her  side, closed her eyes, one leg dangling carelessly and one resting up. This was her favourite 'job'. The to and fro motions of the swing melted into her being. Life was soothing this way, like it would never stop, like her thoughts.  It gave her a feeling of being on a never ending journey. 

              And then she thought of him. Why was she attracted to him? She had never related to any of the boys in her class, in fact she didn't find them interesting at all and never bothered to find out if they were interested in her. She was the topper and wanted a match no less than herself. But after Neeta joined, everything had changed. Neeta-full of life, unlike herself who was drowned in books and study (of course no one knew she devoured romantic stories the most apart from physics or chemistry or biology and of course anything Shakespear-ean). She liked helping people but few reciprocated the feeling with which she thought for them except Neeta of course who startled her by mirroring some part of herself, showing her the warmth which no one had done before. And it was then she understood for the first time that she was attractive too. Thanks for Neeta's lesson on boys and 'the ways they looked'. Once Neeta had remarked,'Look how Shashikant is staring at you !' She said,'What rubbish ?' But then she had stealthily noticed that tall and fair Shashikant really looked at her. Oh! but he was a last bencher, okay in studies but popular by all means. How well Neeta and he clicked, the way they spoke easily with each other with no hang ups. Slowly she had come out of her cocoon and learnt the different ways to beat her shyness as she desperately wanted to be a part of the man-woman world. 

                      Shashikant was a history after all these years, there had been so many she found who 'looked' at her. Strange unless you are aware of something, it does not exist at all. And once you are aware, it is the only thing that exists ! There had been so many pairs of eyes that she shuddered to look at, the heart beating faster everytime she did. Then he came along. He was unassuming. Calm, a serene look on his face, he also looked shy but she found out he wasn't. Boys can be so deceptive she thought. He wasn't dashing but showed his cave-man protective spirit when  once they all were hanging out together one late evening. A drunkard had asked her address of one Mr. Saxena, of all the people standing there. And she had just begun to reply when she felt the man coming closer to her. In one startling second, Ray had sprung upon him and shoved him off. She was taken unawares. But she had loved every moment of it thereafter when he had almost shouted at her for being so stupid to answer a drunk ! Then there was the New Year party dance which she had danced with him in the moonlight. Two lads (neighbours) had come in un-invited asking for her, saying they wanted to wish her 'Happy New Year'. There he was, once again springing at the door, telling them something which made them exit with the same speed with which they had entered. She didn't like this time, as she thought it was bad man ners to send Neighbours away. He had made fun teasing her about the 'high spirited' neighbours. 

to be contd

First lesson on boys

She laid down on the swing, a half read book on her  side, closed her eyes, one leg dangling carelessly and one resting up. This was her favourite 'job'. The to and fro motions of the swing melted into her being. Life was soothing this way, like it would never stop, like her thoughts.  It gave her a feeling of being on a never ending journey. 

              And then she thought of him. Why was she attracted to him? She had never related to any of the boys in her class, in fact she didn't find them interesting at all and never bothered to find out if they were interested in her. She was the topper and wanted a match no less than herself. But after Neeta joined, everything had changed. Neeta-full of life, unlike herself who was drowned in books and study (of course no one knew she devoured romantic stories the most apart from physics or chemistry or biology and of course anything Shakespear-ean). She liked helping people but few reciprocated the feeling with which she thought for them except Neeta of course who startled her by mirroring some part of herself, showing her the warmth which no one had done before. And it was then she understood for the first time that she was attractive too. Thanks for Neeta's lesson on boys and 'the ways they looked'. Once Neeta had remarked,'Look how Shashikant is staring at you !' She said,'What rubbish ?' But then she had stealthily noticed that tall and fair Shashikant really looked at her. Oh! but he was a last bencher, okay in studies but popular by all means. How well Neeta and he clicked, the way they spoke easily with each other with no hang ups. Slowly she had come out of her cocoon and learnt the different ways to beat her shyness as she desperately wanted to be a part of the man-woman world. 

                      Shashikant was a history after all these years, there had been so many she found who 'looked' at her. Strange unless you are aware of something, it does not exist at all. And once you are aware, it is the only thing that exists ! There had been so many pairs of eyes that she shuddered to look at, the heart beating faster everytime she did. Then he came along. He was unassuming. Calm, a serene look on his face, he also looked shy but she found out he wasn't. Boys can be so deceptive she thought. He wasn't dashing but showed his cave-man protective spirit when  once they all were hanging out together one late evening. A drunkard had asked her address of one Mr. Saxena, of all the people standing there. And she had just begun to reply when she felt the man coming closer to her. In one startling second, Ray had sprung upon him and shoved him off. She was taken unawares. But she had loved every moment of it thereafter when he had almost shouted at her for being so stupid to answer a drunk ! Then there was the New Year party dance which she had danced with him in the moonlight. Two lads (neighbours) had come in un-invited asking for her, saying they wanted to wish her 'Happy New Year'. There he was, once again springing at the door, telling them something which made them exit with the same speed with which they had entered. She didn't like this time, as she thought it was bad man ners to send Neighbours away. He had made fun teasing her about the 'high spirited' neighbours. 

to be contd

Unbounded

There she was, once again caught up in a train of thoughts that seemed to end nowhere in particular. Sometimes that was o.k. with her, not arriving anywhere. Just the idea of thinking would do the trick...of making her content/may be happy at least for the few moments she had the feeling, which the thoughts conveyed. Then she would wake up startled to see the world around her, not the way she wanted or imagined though. Well life was going on o.k. not much to complain but still she wanted to think she belonged somewhere else. Where? and What for? Questions which she always asked herself when she would be in a contemplative mood.

        Moody, yes that's what she was known as. Some people told her that she 'beh jatee hai' (gets lost in imagination). What's wrong she would ask them ? It gave her happiness, delusive though. Should everything be stark REAL ? What if she didn't like the real world sometimes and would prefer an imaginative world ? She loved the various acts Nature put up in front of her eyes daily. She also loved the attention she got wherever she went, the college, the work place, the family events etc. At times she thought she should have been a dancer. What a way to express ! Self fulfilling ! You didn't need someone to make you feel special and all that. Once she had nagged her husband about this. As a child, she would want her dad or someone in the house to wish her 'Happy Birthday' the moment she got up ! As it was un-Indian way of wishing in a Hindu household where one went to temple on birthday or an 'arti' was done, that which she wanted never happened. Once she had expressed this to her dad and he had reprimanded her not to mimic the 'west'. Blowing candles, cutting cakes was British culture. Why can't people do what one wants? She would think forever and ever. A rebel ? Yes she was, but having brought up in a close knit and a very loving family, she adjusted to the societal roles of daughter, sister, wife, mother etc. But she loved the Friend role a lot.  That was what excited her, made life thrilling. She wanted friendship in all her relationships each of which had a name. The moment a relationship gets a name, it get limited by the shoulds/shouldnt's, she mused.  Why can't life be a joy ride of emancipated spirits ? She got up again with a question in her mind.

Unbounded

There she was, once again caught up in a train of thoughts that seemed to end nowhere in particular. Sometimes that was o.k. with her, not arriving anywhere. Just the idea of thinking would do the trick...of making her content/may be happy at least for the few moments she had the feeling, which the thoughts conveyed. Then she would wake up startled to see the world around her, not the way she wanted or imagined though. Well life was going on o.k. not much to complain but still she wanted to think she belonged somewhere else. Where? and What for? Questions which she always asked herself when she would be in a contemplative mood.

        Moody, yes that's what she was known as. Some people told her that she 'beh jatee hai' (gets lost in imagination). What's wrong she would ask them ? It gave her happiness, delusive though. Should everything be stark REAL ? What if she didn't like the real world sometimes and would prefer an imaginative world ? She loved the various acts Nature put up in front of her eyes daily. She also loved the attention she got wherever she went, the college, the work place, the family events etc. At times she thought she should have been a dancer. What a way to express ! Self fulfilling ! You didn't need someone to make you feel special and all that. Once she had nagged her husband about this. As a child, she would want her dad or someone in the house to wish her 'Happy Birthday' the moment she got up ! As it was un-Indian way of wishing in a Hindu household where one went to temple on birthday or an 'arti' was done, that which she wanted never happened. Once she had expressed this to her dad and he had reprimanded her not to mimic the 'west'. Blowing candles, cutting cakes was British culture. Why can't people do what one wants? She would think forever and ever. A rebel ? Yes she was, but having brought up in a close knit and a very loving family, she adjusted to the societal roles of daughter, sister, wife, mother etc. But she loved the Friend role a lot.  That was what excited her, made life thrilling. She wanted friendship in all her relationships each of which had a name. The moment a relationship gets a name, it get limited by the shoulds/shouldnt's, she mused.  Why can't life be a joy ride of emancipated spirits ? She got up again with a question in her mind.

Who is a true Maharashtrian ?

 Though haven't seen 'Me shivaji raje bhosle boltoy', this question plagues 'me' who was born in Mysore, to Tamil Iyengar parents  whose forefathers had migrated to Karnataka years back from Tamilnadu. Now my parents spent their marital life in Bhilai then in Madhya Pradesh which was a township housing people from almost all states of India and  who worked for the mammoth Bhilai Steel Plant. I grew up in an environment where people connected as Bhilaians irrespective of the languages they spoke or the religion they followed. As for my identity I didn't fit either into the Tamilian category or the Kannadigas for that matter. My parents were members of the 'Kannada Sangha' where I heard people speak 'English' especially the peer group thus appearing hypocrites. The 'Tamil samaj' where I had to go with dad once or twice, didn't appeal either because the uncles wore white 'Panche' and the aunties appeared too much 'God & Pooja' prone more out of fear than the customs and the kids had white 'Namam' (white ash lines on forehead). The friends I interacted with were mostly Central and North Indians especially Punjabi's And I thought in Hindi, I mean I used to think in Hindi and later only in English. I wanted to marry a Punjabi because I thought they were 'Bindaas' (at least those in Bhilai were) but ended up befriending a boy who matched the mind and who cared for the psyche enough to contemplate a life to spend with. He was a Maharashtrian, a community  I had never been exposed to.

Back to the question 'Who then is a true Maharashtrian?' My folks (in-laws) also from Bhilai, were cosmopolitan, never imposed anything 'Marathi' on me except that the food I was taught to cook was Maharashtrian, which was o.k. to the palette, me not being too fussy about eating. Beginning married life in Pune, a place I had always liked as a child when we stayed during summers with my aunt in the Defence colony, made me fall in love with it all the more and I geared up to become 'a Maharashtrian' by choice as I liked the customs/traditions which were similar to those I was exposed to at home but  which had never interested then but now with the role of a wife/daughter-in-law etc. made sense. Wonder how certain phases of life ties one down, putting the wilder side at bay. Life had other plans and we shifted to Gujarat and with that all my plans of being a 'Maharashtrian' was gone. For once again I landed amidst people from various states. Nevertheless I followed Ganesh puja, Gudi Padwa and Satyanarayan puja on rakhi purnima and whatever I could read and understand from 'Sampurna Chaturmas' the Marathi book that talks about the festivals and the likes in Maharashtra for, the Mom-in-law had told me to look after the house, the kid and the husband, which she felt was the true religion when I asked her the festivals/pujas she wanted me to do in an year. They all communicate with me in Hindi and in Marathi amongst themselves. So I don't speak Marathi with them though have started now in Pune, with the maid, the auto driver etc. Am I a Maharashtrian ? Legally yes but I don't feel like one as I don't feel like a Tamilian or a Kannadiga either for that matter. The brother-in-law once remarked 'Identity crisis' and I used to feel that way too but not anymore. After having studied in Madhya Pradesh, worked in Karnataka, stayed in Gujarat for 13 full years and now in Maharashtra, I feel an Indian, and a proud one at that. I just cannot stand 'navu kannadigaru' (we are kannadigas) or 'amhee Marathi' ( we are marathis) or anything of such sort as I feel its only the weak who need to shout to be heard. The strong work, do something and make their presence known.  Shivaji had to do it, erect formidable forts, shout slogans in order to create the spirit to fight and hoist flags so that he could oust the British. Why do we need to do that now? The president is a Maharashtrian.  Did she land up the post because she hailed from Maharashtra? I have this debate in the classrooms I teach and I salute the passion writ on Marathi faces, only wish they who need to proclaim their Marathiness in their own state go out and live in some other states for sometime and redirect their passion to something worthwhile. Will some one be a true Marathi then if they

1.  Speak Marathi.

2.  Cook/eat Marathi food.

3. Follow Maharashtrian festivals/beliefs about religion.

4. Read and write Marathi.

5. Live in Maharashtra.

6. Shout current slogans

7. Abhor people from other states

8. Earn in Maharashtra, not send money to their parents residing in other states (Is the

     President doing it I wonder)

Can someone answer?

Who is a true Maharashtrian ?

 Though haven't seen 'Me shivaji raje bhosle boltoy', this question plagues 'me' who was born in Mysore, to Tamil Iyengar parents  whose forefathers had migrated to Karnataka years back from Tamilnadu. Now my parents spent their marital life in Bhilai then in Madhya Pradesh which was a township housing people from almost all states of India and  who worked for the mammoth Bhilai Steel Plant. I grew up in an environment where people connected as Bhilaians irrespective of the languages they spoke or the religion they followed. As for my identity I didn't fit either into the Tamilian category or the Kannadigas for that matter. My parents were members of the 'Kannada Sangha' where I heard people speak 'English' especially the peer group thus appearing hypocrites. The 'Tamil samaj' where I had to go with dad once or twice, didn't appeal either because the uncles wore white 'Panche' and the aunties appeared too much 'God & Pooja' prone more out of fear than the customs and the kids had white 'Namam' (white ash lines on forehead). The friends I interacted with were mostly Central and North Indians especially Punjabi's And I thought in Hindi, I mean I used to think in Hindi and later only in English. I wanted to marry a Punjabi because I thought they were 'Bindaas' (at least those in Bhilai were) but ended up befriending a boy who matched the mind and who cared for the psyche enough to contemplate a life to spend with. He was a Maharashtrian, a community  I had never been exposed to.

Back to the question 'Who then is a true Maharashtrian?' My folks (in-laws) also from Bhilai, were cosmopolitan, never imposed anything 'Marathi' on me except that the food I was taught to cook was Maharashtrian, which was o.k. to the palette, me not being too fussy about eating. Beginning married life in Pune, a place I had always liked as a child when we stayed during summers with my aunt in the Defence colony, made me fall in love with it all the more and I geared up to become 'a Maharashtrian' by choice as I liked the customs/traditions which were similar to those I was exposed to at home but  which had never interested then but now with the role of a wife/daughter-in-law etc. made sense. Wonder how certain phases of life ties one down, putting the wilder side at bay. Life had other plans and we shifted to Gujarat and with that all my plans of being a 'Maharashtrian' was gone. For once again I landed amidst people from various states. Nevertheless I followed Ganesh puja, Gudi Padwa and Satyanarayan puja on rakhi purnima and whatever I could read and understand from 'Sampurna Chaturmas' the Marathi book that talks about the festivals and the likes in Maharashtra for, the Mom-in-law had told me to look after the house, the kid and the husband, which she felt was the true religion when I asked her the festivals/pujas she wanted me to do in an year. They all communicate with me in Hindi and in Marathi amongst themselves. So I don't speak Marathi with them though have started now in Pune, with the maid, the auto driver etc. Am I a Maharashtrian ? Legally yes but I don't feel like one as I don't feel like a Tamilian or a Kannadiga either for that matter. The brother-in-law once remarked 'Identity crisis' and I used to feel that way too but not anymore. After having studied in Madhya Pradesh, worked in Karnataka, stayed in Gujarat for 13 full years and now in Maharashtra, I feel an Indian, and a proud one at that. I just cannot stand 'navu kannadigaru' (we are kannadigas) or 'amhee Marathi' ( we are marathis) or anything of such sort as I feel its only the weak who need to shout to be heard. The strong work, do something and make their presence known.  Shivaji had to do it, erect formidable forts, shout slogans in order to create the spirit to fight and hoist flags so that he could oust the British. Why do we need to do that now? The president is a Maharashtrian.  Did she land up the post because she hailed from Maharashtra? I have this debate in the classrooms I teach and I salute the passion writ on Marathi faces, only wish they who need to proclaim their Marathiness in their own state go out and live in some other states for sometime and redirect their passion to something worthwhile. Will some one be a true Marathi then if they

1.  Speak Marathi.

2.  Cook/eat Marathi food.

3. Follow Maharashtrian festivals/beliefs about religion.

4. Read and write Marathi.

5. Live in Maharashtra.

6. Shout current slogans

7. Abhor people from other states

8. Earn in Maharashtra, not send money to their parents residing in other states (Is the

     President doing it I wonder)

Can someone answer?