Thursday, March 22, 2012

chronicles of the misdemeanors of memsa'ab


CHRONICLES OF THE MISDEMEANORS OF MEMSA'AB

The paper boldly splashed headlines"LIMITED EDITION of sarees by HERMES' and that is exactly what she zeroed on. OMG ,WTF !!!! the day she missed her wake-up alarm for her morning training, and this is what had to be announced.This must have been the closely guarded top-secret project which had escaped her ears…hmmm.She pushed away the lightly bandaged eys laced with Bihaku the miracle regenerative eye cream from Japan which was known to stem the fine lines which were creeping in. Last night's party coupled with the amazing new concoctions and the essential me-time with hubby dear which was mandatory to keep everything smooth and on line in today's marriage .
Oh! Why did she have to wake up late , and on this day , she wondered calculated how many of her friends would have read this announcement? How many of them were speed- dialing to Pune ? And on top of that making the flight connection to Pune form Delhi? Blocked roads, people walking in solidarity with Anna , why couldn't they listen to the old man , as if rampant corruption would end , corruption of the mind needed to weeded via health , education. Dismissing these thoughts which had been her ideals but were now buried under layers of artifice, materialism she thought of her strategy .She needed to be ready , arrange everything and be not the first to enter the Ista Hotel but the third , fourth person. One needed to pace everything, slowly ,not be an eager beaver and jump like an overexcited teenager on hormones!
Wretched designers, as if the waiting for the BIRKIN wasn't torture enough and now the saree. Here she had just bought the new mIchael Kors collection for the coming winter and on top of that LFW had just finished . She had had to make her purchases there to keep face. But, she so needed the saree . How in the world was she going to justify it to Ajay? He, who did turn a blind eye over her shopping but this month was going to be the mother of all months! Well, a dinner , quality time, extra attention and being home for a few days would solve that.Suddenly the shift from size zero to a woman with curves had dramatically altered her wardrobe.. Musing over her boiled eggs, cherries( the right kind of red) she thought about the irony.You are born with the right kind of boobs which are perfect ( thanks to gravity) and then you make them disappear and look like a ironing board due to the dictates of fashion and then fashion the worst mistress of all demands you have a cleavage . the nicely tanned , smooth with a hint of coquetry and allure , not too deep , not too wide. No wonder the plastic surgeon's wife had all the colors of the Chanel bags!! She was in running with the Japanese woman over her obsession with Chanel.
First things first….She needed to think , plan and book the next flight out first flight in (FOFI) reverse order though! Her degree was being used not to plan , to strategize a takeover cunningly but to plan a shopping trip . Such was the twist of fate.
She called PJi ( Aka Pappu Singh) who was the biggest jugaadi in North India and told him what she wanted, the time frame . Calling the chappies to check on the running of the house and making the essential subtle changes she got around to planning her outfit for the power shopping spree today. The casual look,with the new white linen shirt with just the right carat diamnond earrings and a huge obscene emerald ring to balance and to make the statement. The latest outrageously bright colored bag from Miu-Miu and the soft shoes from Tory Burch , and she was ready to face the day.She so loved to plan her outfits meticulously to project the right image.
Memsaab, memsaab, Sunita shouted. Stop shouting, whats the matter? , she said. Sa'ab is trying to call you and he says you are not picking up your cell. Uff,
What did Ajay want? She speed dialed him and waited for him to take his call. He  picked up and told her in his monotone , speaking in fron tof his flunkies saying, ten people are coming over lunch . Get it done, with appropriate gifts etc.. Get the details from Pji. And the phone disconnected. She fumed , wondering what this was , just to be on the receiving end and to function as a glamour hostess filling in the conversations at the right moment. What a life? where did all the loving, asking or finding out about her plans go? Was she supposed to just drop off Mother Earth to be subservient and to comply? It irritated her made her angry but what was the course it just left her sad frustrated and in the end she just gave in for the larger picture as her mom called it.
Not letting her self wallow, she called trusty old Pji who was the real mistress of her marriage , one who was the conduit between her and Ajay and was the reason why it had all the cracks and fissures but was still glued together . Society, izzat  , family name all were such heavy weights that they actually stifled the marriage without letting it bloom or even letting it breath..
No way was she going to miss her Saree . The best and trusted excuse was a gynecologist appointment, everything was justified on the altar of a female problem. Smiling to herself she called the cook and gave him instructions  for a balanced meal complete with a gastronomical desert which was her signature .She ordered  corporate gifts from Archana who knew what she wanted , specifying the budget for silver coins embellished with the company name.
Informing Pji that she was going first to the doctors and then might go ahead with her programme . Dr. Simrita was an old family friend who would tear her apart at the slightest nuance but would climb over a mountain to see if she was well.She was the only true confidante' she had in this false overly bright society she belonged to. She called Simrita and told her what she planned to, and in return Sim gave her a lecture over her excessive spending and trying to fill in her time by excesses . Simrita, was saying,' You need to stop going on these astronomical shopping trips' there is no way Ajay will start noticing you fro the woman you are"You are just a trophy wife to him and its easy to pander to you by just paying the credit card bills.Stop this , nonsense. Do you think buying a limited shimited saree is going to make you more appealing to him? Someone who regiments time with you is not going to recognize you if start wearing sarees or end up naked infront of him!  Her tirade continued and she intervened and said , " please Sim , you are the only one, who can help me. And that was what it took.
She got ready , and boarded her flight where she was sitting next to this obnoxious looking obese oiled businessman who kept on trying to nudge into her space. The letch, wouldn't stop looking at her, did her shirt say, Look at me I'm available? She wondered why men had only one thing in mind, just sex and no finesse'.She turned her head to the other side and waited for the time to while away. 
When a sticky finger starting to touch her gently on one side she called the stewardess asking for a seat change . Hearing her adamant and forceful request she was sent to sitting two seats in the front.She moved forward looking forward to the next thirty minutes of quiet and solitude where she would gather her thoughts and also in solace question and face herself ( which she never admitted)

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

connecting to GOD


Connecting to God

I don’t know how to name him or to put a finger or a pulse to this being, this spirit which guides us to a better person. I just know simply that I was so caught up in life and smug in thinking that I was controlling everything and everyone connected to my life. In short my ego was manifesting itself in every way possible. You know, when we keep on saying I know this, I can do this , Don’t worry listen to me , I have it under control. I was guilty to all these and more.
Then suddenly a little jolt which made me realize how fragile our existence is, how the threads of our lives are in the control of BIG BOSS , not to be confused by the actor who goes by this name or with a dear friend . I had forgotten my creator, my real self, the security blanket which I had and temporarily pushed it to a back burner thinking He knew it all. I had my reverence for Him, he had all my respect all the regard, so it did not matter if I did not take out time to remember Him? He knew, that’s what mattered. I was busy living life and living it to the full. I had no regrets, everything was well so all was good.
Well, wham my applecart was upset and then I realized how important it is to have the discipline to remember Him. It is an ongoing process and  is akin to breathing. And I had forgotten how to breathe .
Life goes on and will always go on, with me there or not. My existence or lack of it is not going to be a major shake up in God’s entity. But my bowing in front of this superior being, this enlightened being which makes all the world go makes a difference in my existence.
Connecting to God is something we all will do, at one point of our lives, and I hope it is in happiness and not in sorrow but take out time to connect with Him. Connecting does not mean getting an express Paath or asking a granthi to come and do the reading of the scriptures so that it is a formality. One thing is for sure you cannot hide or lie or buy your way out with this guy. He knows it all. I connected and breathe better so when do you start?

Note please :
Even starting with an app on the smart phone is a start and make time on the GOOGLE calendar , you’d be surprised how the day goes better.
People who don’t believe in Him ,well lets have a discussion.


Saturday, March 17, 2012

The eternal debate

This is not about Genesis. It's not even about whether who ate the Apple or didn't. It's been proven by the sales that eating the apple made for a killing in the tech industry and the other companies are still trying to catch up with funny sounding operating systems  . And not even coming close.
This is not even about casting my vote , whether I voted Akali, or Congress or for the hastily married SM. My vote was meaningful and we got what we deserved. This is not even lament on the budget , it's not an intelligent discussion on the rising prices or the car which is getting more expensive or the fact that movies are cheaper. This is a direct impetus for the nation to watch more and more Ra to the infinity , Krishh sequels ! In fact Salman , Shahrukh and Hrithik will never grow old.They have hit upon the never age recipe you see.
This is also not about one question which makes women squirm, their weight or the diet they should follow. I actually follow the worst diet possible , note to self ( eat healthy !) . Coffee, chocolates, simple yellow deal and with innumerable cravings is what i survive on. In short live life normally. I mean the minute we introduce stuff like bran ,oats only , no veggies, eat a digestive to our bodies, they start malfunctioning. I mean be desi , be kind to the body . She didn't come from the west so why make her suffer? Just go basic , folks and you will see the results. Trust me , she was born Indian so why make her suffer through the oats, bran , routine...
See , rambling again , my debate is something which plagues us all the time. We , the fairer sex , the women have to decide what to wear tomorrow?
I'm plagued by this decision. Hmm, what to wear and what not to wear? What color ? Go traditional , or modern, demure or loud sassy or sexy ? I wonder if one is allowed to use the word sexy any more after the furore created by the word couple of weeks. Still wondering , till tomorrow though . It 's my eternal debate.
KISS.

kich kich


Kichh Kichh

I am not a Sunidhi Chauhan , a Begum Akhtar or even close to the shadow of the shadow of the Nightingale of India but my voice is decent , passable and apparently sounds good to some people. But this common affliction of a sore throat has me stumped and it wheezes, splutters, and now sounds like a fog-horn croaking away its melody.
The remedies range from adrak chai , to a hot toddy, to amla grated mixed with honey and lemon. A hot peppery dadi ma nuskha where peppers are mixed with almonds and raisins and is made into small balls and chewed. Trust me, the sheer hotness of the concoction is making me glow with a natural red tinting my cheeks to perfection .The glaziness in my eyes is not due to my secret swinging of a brandy here and there or the smelling of the poppies dotting my garden but a perpetual intoxication with the numerous downing of cough syrups.
The pharmaceutical industry, makes a killing every year , every month , every second selling these bottles which just knock you down temporarily giving you a buzz for the moment but kich kich remains the same. You know, that irritating feeling , in the back of the throat , gets drowned by the syrup but just never goes .
I have notes from people who say a hot toddy works wonder, done that so am a bit wobbly , ate and slept with rotis, just gained inches with that one! My next bet is the Gol –gappa stall in the midst of model Town … well bhaiyaji here I come .

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Lost in Translation


Lost in translation
A social obligation, one I wanted to avoid brought forth a discussion and a chance to listen to one of the finest discussions I have heard on morality and the declining standards in Punjab. I went to this obscure village, off the beaten path to attend a Shagun, which I thought would be the same, sit in the shamiana and then see the customary traditions taking place. Was, I in for a surprise! In front of the gathering, a saintly person sat on the dais and started speaking in chaste simple Punjabi. My first reaction was that, Oh I was in for a long boring sermon and it was going to be a run- of the mill katha (discourse of the verses from the holy book).
Well this cynical jaded person was in for the best refreshing talk ever had. Babaji (the saintly person ), talked in detail ; over an hour of the declining moral standards of Punjab. He lamented over the falling moral views of the people. In fact, he says as the people have forgotten what was written in the scriptures , the times dictated , the raags to be read that the complete dis-regard and the moral degradation and corruption has led to the rise in divorce, killing of girls is rampant.
The angle which he highlighted appealed to me; he says that the time given was before 12 in the afternoon, a time which is pure the time given in the SGGS but now the time of marriage vows is as late as 4 pm. Incidentally that is time for the reading of the scriptures for someone’s death /demise.
How do we expect the union to be blessed, if it is not at the time stated? Hindus, always read the holy vows at the time stated and that is their auspicious time. Why are we after the materialistic pomp and show and have forgotten the times as set by our Gurus? Right now, the population of Punjab is in a mindless frenzy of show where everyone tries to out do the other by bigger marriage palaces, ostentatious display of jewels, wealth, senseless display of food, flowers and might. A union of two souls is sacred. Now, we  don’t give that importance or the time as dictated by the almighty but the whims of the pomp , band wallah, the caterers or worse the orchesterated wedding planner who decides what time the grand entry should be made!
His view-point also covered the rising silent unabated killing of the girl –child. An ordinary man gives all he can to marry off his daughter, what ever he can afford, or possibly mortgage to give his princess the marriage of her dreams but such is the trend that the boy-side will ask for the moon or the one thing which has not been given. He highlights a common homily of the town of Maalpur (a progressive town of Doaba) where a man a married his daughter and gave her every thing in her dowry, the wedding festivities carried on for four days. Maalpur is a town which geographically has a lot of ‘choes’ and when the wedding procession was going back , the bullock cart got stuck in the mud , so the father inlaw remarked that the girl –wallahs should have atleast given a shovel…
Hearing this the girls father said , it would have been better to have kill the girl when she was born rather than face this day .
One word captures , Punjab sad.
This according to him was the numero one decision why girls are being killed unabashedly . When girls were married off in earlier times, the father gave his turban to the the boy side; a sign of izzat, and his honor which he was giving to the groom , and his family . Now it is not about the girl, the human behind the name but how much is exchanged when the ‘milni’ is done. It is all about the clothes, the expensive shawls, the blankets, the gold so exchanged. How are we putting a monetary value on something so precious as life?
 His discourse lamented over the total disregard of the teachings left by the Gurus. Should’nt we have been the dispeller of the dark ages with the advancement of civilization; instead we have thrown ourselves back into a dark deep abyss where light cannot reach ever.
Punjab , currently tops with the highest inequal ratio between sexes and is not far behind the discrimination and harassment of women. Where has all the talk of Shakti , primordial force of life and the land where great saints, pirs once walked gone , a poor reflection of the golden age?
Has the translation been lost by the so –called keepers of religion? Religion remains the same it , is the keepers who are defiling it.