Life of a woman !1

 It’s the best time of the year , we have our own spring uprising , winter is still lingering and its clutches still hold sway just like Games of thrones. It’s as if we all are Westerosi . But , coming back to Punjab and the small village I live in , I had gone to attend one of the giant steps taken by our village panchayat . They had decided to attend for the first time to celebrate women’s day , progress in the hands of the change in vanguard of politics and everyone started to talk.

Women love to talk , we love to engage and exchange ideas and sometimes just take tips to make lives better for ourselves . Everyone started to reminisce about the times of bygone and one aunty who was an ex army officers wife started speaking about her times . As always she wanted to put across how modern she was and ahead of her times. 

It’s always been the case in Punjab , that people who joine the army were a tad bit more sophisticated and had more style , etiquette’s and panache than the rest of the plebeian folks. It had to do with the travelling and having an exposure and learning how the rest of the country lived. Auntyji , in her hey days wore sarees and that was unheard of girls from villages who came from patriarchal Jat Sikh , conservative and traditional families who traveled from point A to point b with no exposure . So , she was a newly wed in the early 60’s and wore sarees and was asked lovingly by her officer husband to wear a sleeveless blouse. 

The city of posting was Lucknow; the city of Nawabs, romance and shayarani and old world charm and grandeur . So , this small village girl to please her husband wore a saree and a sleeveless blouse to show off her lovely arms and her bangles . She went for a party and was coming back , when the Sahibji was informed the Biji has come from Punjab to live with them. And, lo all Chaos happened and she knew she was going to get a tongue lashing and a dressing down . Her husband told her to cover her arms with the French chiffon saree , but that didn’t help!

When she entered n front of her dragon of a mother in law , she was told in the highest form of sarcastic , rustic wit , that the tailor has made invisible sleeves. 

Life has changed from girls wearing sarees but keeping them selves covered and still being attractive and sensual . Now the idea is to bare all , twerk , post suggestive pictures and if you’re not showing some skin you’re not modern enough . 

Is display of flesh a sign of modernity and a benchmark of being novel , and being in vogue. Modernism means embracing the quality of present or recen times by being forward thinking . To change ones mindset, and not be regressive and be of present times. We as a country have repressed and regressed and freedom of our expression of women is being curtailed . It is frowned upon when women wear revealing clothes or western clothes as they can incite and inspire sexual feelings in men . Why the false promises of empowerment, when we have to fight even for representation in the largest democracy of the world? It’s unfolding in two months and lets see what happens. Women in our country remain seen but are unheard , an uprising is needed but then is rudely called as being feminist bra burners. It’s not that , we just want to be treated as a human . And, then a saree wearing , hijab covered , or a sleeveless shirt with shorts is free to do what she wants and the rest don’t have to stare or gawk at her.For me , I still wait for ache din , or maybe I can see from above up there in the heaven or hell depending where my friends are.

This is an old piece and In ever posted it or it just got lost as sometimes my thoughts go . After the uprising by Taliban’s and the over throw and the recent strike on freedom in Iran and the continuous killings , molestation , rapes and just non stop degradation that carries on . 

My maid had the best answer , she says newspapers are printed so we gareeb can wrap our roti in it , Baaki Sab Bikka huya hai ( everything else is sold ) . It’s true isn’t it?

Mother of All weddings

 The wedding season literally upon us , all the Chanda , Tara’s are smiling ,winking and all the auspicious dates have been lined up and I have the mother of all seasons , where from next week onwards I’m booked till post Christmas . It is just what they call it as a big fat Punjabi wedding scenario. The bigger , the better, the blinker , the shinier and the glitzier is better. Every season , we try to reinvent ourselves with bigger jewels, bling outfits , and more pictures to make memories for the instant likes knowing very well that more people will view the story than liking the post ! It’s just how we are , the voyeur in us is all out every season . 

From the invites, to snagging the best wedding invites , to the favours to the mithai to the clothes to booking the best make up artist , to the hair stylist , its a competition and blood has been shed to book them! Every season one designer becomes the favourite, and everyone makes a beeline for her or him to wear the it suit and the colours because how can one woman be ahead than the other . 

The colours are brighter than the rainbow or paler than water depending upon what is deemed as the trending colour  and men are flashy and coordinate with their turbans depending whether they are from Majha ,Malwa or Doaba ; distinct colours dominate ! They also sometimes seem stuffed in their suits , do men have corsets too? 

The problem comes for people like me who are misfits ,old and have neither a designer suit in ones name and nor is the hair golden grey . I think  Punjab has more golden hair than the Aryans of Germany . The designer bag to the designer clothes , to the shoes to the ordinary jutti all have become synonymous with style , elan and everything is tagged to have maximum exposure. Heaven forbid , you wear the same suit again its akin to committing social harakiri. 

Every wedding picture is uploaded only with a particular hashtag and that has to be unique and quirky . The ordinary and simple have no meaning anymore . Make up is to another level , one doesn’t simply get ready , one has a stylist and some one who will change the skin color and contour and highlight and sharpen or conceal any spot that might come because you might just like sitting in the sun like me or have age spots .

The cosmetics industry and the skin specialists have more arsenal ready than both the  Korean countries and can  and make you something else , you just have to shell out money ! Money makes the mare go . 

And , oh how can I forget , in the midst to get the perfect picture , there are so many takes , that one misses the actual events because the photographer is more strict and he keeps on  saying look here , please smile ! And I fail hopelessly at all this , I smile and take pictures for happiness and memory and not for the perfect angle or pose! One is supposed to thrust your pelvis at an angle , tip toe like a ballet dancer ( and we are Punjabis with hips that don’t lie ) and to angle and jut out . Growing up no one taught me that this was my right side or wrong side , I was just grateful to see as I am half blind! 

And you have to have the designer glasses to stare at people behind the dark lens and also sport a deadpan expression , have you ever seen a happy smiling picture ? Nope , just that expression akin to Morticia. All these are the rules of the Punjabi wedding ,where you arrive fashionably late , have a drink one hand , sample the wares and gossip about others , and make notes in one’s mind castle , and give the Shagun envelope where they keep on saying no but they will take it in the end.

It’s a saga with cuisines of all the world , all the wine and the liquor you can drink , with the cheese grazing table and all I crave is a good coffee amidst everyone talking about the new vegan diet ! The circus continues and we all take part in it wanting freedom but chained to the yoke .

The Speil Spell

 The spiel they sell us from ache din to badlaav aa gaya , to saving the girl child to giving the girl child an education. Teach a girl , you teach a family . I love how they write these deluded slogans and one liners to influence and to make sure we vote for the party so governments can be formed and public can be swayed . Every five years we get to choose our leaders who we think are going to deliver just like Moses and the Red Sea would part for us.  We just celebrated daughters day , I even talked about it , motivating every one but today I faced a peculiar problem . A young girl against all odds from a small village in Punjab ( Doaba) region finished her graduation in computer application . Her story is sad , tragic but she never gave up hope and against all odds her grandfather supported her and she finished her studies. To sustain herself financially she started teaching in the village school and now keep calm , and hold your horses, she gets paid Rs 500 each from two teachers every month and that further inspires her to start a business because she wants to make money .

From abject poverty , a desire to good and to be successful her competitive spirit is born , I don’t even know what to say . the system promises us everything , promises a silver lining , promises utopia and jobs . Where are the jobs ? Where is the change we are looking for ? Have we all gone myopic, that we don’t know reality?  I asked for help and a lot of the readers on a public page said that she should emigrate as there is no hope here . Some said she should join a multi national company or some-said that there were data entry operator jobs , or to join the sewa Kendra and she could make money .

Ive figured out what ails us , we are so far removed from reality in our Instagram , social media induced virtual life that we have forgotten that more than 60 recent of India”s population is rural and they do not have the knowledge, access to English , nor do they have any confidence to apply and compete with the rest . They are shy, insecure and not sure how to conduct themselves. They’re best bet is marriage. Ache din is that she as studied and has a degree that has no future now , and she would best be earning as much as a field labourer does.But , what has complicated matters is that now she has confidence and a little ego where she thinks she should earn more but she doesn’t and frustration sets in . 

How do they break the circle? In a time , where inflation is at its highest , jobs are scarce and the badlaav is limited to showcasing new and newer suits of the Cm’s wife and having a bigger entourage than the previous chief ministers . Why did the voters of Punjab be duped on a piped pipers tune of change ? Either way Rome is burning and the emperor is fiddling away a tune that isn’t new . 

My young girl will end up marrying and will bury her dreams and will end up doing business by haggling with the vegetable seller over the prices to , resurrect only when she has children of her own . This all seems far fetched , exaggerated but its not it’s how Jamtara and all others come to birth !  Despair , hunger and a desire to be better in a system that has abandoned them has given birth to the drugs epidemic . We need to save Punjab , not by mere words but by a responsible, collective and individual action .

Conversations With Biji 2

Every day I come across these quotes and lines by people , philosophers, poets and sometimes lines made by smart copy writers which do offer solace and make sense, they always do by the way , but to practice what we’re preaching is so difficult . I just remembered I can’t use any French words . 

When you walk into doors , tables and furnitures like I do , you get physically hurt , there is pain and more than often a bruise is left , a mark is there . And that fades with time and you get better and there is a mental check in your mind  where you don’t let it happen or as in my  case its still happening . I meet furniture , doors and just about anything . My poor knees are testament to it , they are creaking .

But , there is a side of us , that is hurt by others words ,actions and there is no way we can quantify them . I mean you can’t say oh I was hurt a kilo by her , or the betrayal cost me 5 tons or it took up space as much as my home. There isn’t any measure when we are hurt , betrayed or our trust is broken , there is undeniable pain . A mark that is invisible , just like the Death Eaters . 

However, the reaction to this , the getting angry , the planning of revenge , that is beyond pain , that is suffering . I don’t mean physical covert harm to the other here . We are not talking of MI5 here , or any other histrionics , I am talking about what goes in our mental frame work. We start with , I am in pain . I have been mistreated , I deserve more .

Look how , the I becomes foremost , when we start talking to ourselves. The mental commentary that we are having in our mind glorifies the ego and it creeps in and we start to wallow in self pity . If you have been harmed , no doubt that what happened was wrong , but the way you react to the situation in your head makes it worse . Now you are suffering because you can’t stop thinking about it . We go back to the incident or moment again and again and self pity sets in . All those creepy clingy emotions of the past come forth and take dominance and because we are feeding the negativity , it becomes bigger . 

Here , is where one has to stop. Count your blessings , be positive , instead of glorifying our ego and aggravating and enhancing the pain.  I don’t wish to be sanctimonious or superior in anyway , trust me I get mad and feel the pain just as much as you do and maybe am a bigger softie than all of you combined . I cry at the drop of the hat . 

You always have a choice to look at things differently and to deal with it because what I have  learnt in these years is that only you and only you will walk in your shoes , and you get to live it . So choose , wisely . Pain comes from harm , but suffering is how we choose to deal with the pain . Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional.

A lot of times, people won’t choose you , or will feel youre not good enough or they will have some grudge against you , you can’t fix them , you change your reaction to them . This is my take and as always we can either use this or skip !

Ps : This gyaan has been sponsored by a perfect cup of Hazel nut coffee, post covid amnesia , and gray hair .

Whats in a name?

In this day and age where we live virtually and have our identities carved by the names that are given , the trend is to have small syllable names ,more exotic the better and the roots are Persian or Islamic and sometimes just plain funny . In olden times , our names used to be kept by a pandit or a Bhaiji and that too after an elaborate naming ceremony where the alphabet would be taken from a specific religious line that came in regards to the child . This is too old fashioned and archaic for the times today and has been discontinued or manipulated to keep a foot in both time ; old and new. However, my village is still stuck in the old ages where name are kept the ones they proudly display on the Aadhar card but there are parallel names that are the real identity. The names all have such interesting history behind them , a Bladder , Phunny , Lutta , Latan , Tunda , Dhunda , Nehri. Titu the vakeel, D C , bola 26.

In a world where we are label each other as being as fair or dark , thin or fat , names are kept on what they are , and they stick as glue . Bladder is a milkman , and the story goes when his mother was pregnant with him , she was sewing footballs , hence the name bladder for him . She was the fastest , quickest worker , and the name was in english. Phunny because , he was fun loving when he went to school , and he used to crack jokes , it’s a different story that he is now a poker faced old man in hi slate 70’s now. Lutta is our handyman , with green fingers and when he was born to Aziz the tractor driver everything was lost , hence lutt Gaya . 

Latan , was the biggest land allottee of the area , she had the largest piece of land to her name and was the terror of the district ! 

Tunda and Dunda became grand fathers but their names were because of the body deformities .. I cant even begin to tell you about the ladies. Each has a particular name that was synonymous to her because of her youth and her nature . DC , Nehri  are all names because of their quick wit and style of working.

In an age where we are worried about labels of being fat , ugly , dark or fair of tall or short or body shaming is done, these names are more realistic and grounded .I grew up reading Shakespeare and the cheesy lines boys would use trying to impress girls, ‘A rose by any other name would smell sweet “ . The reference is used to state that the names of things do not affect what they really are . We all strive for perfection and Romeo would still be the same if his name was any different . 

Today’s world we are all trying to be something else because of unreal standards set by a world that doesn’t exist and is computer generated , or is a fantasy algorithm.I’m surrounded and am also guilty sometimes where it is kinder to have a filter sometimes , as we all like to be fair , have a chiseled face or have the trendy name . We don’t make them simple anymore , the cultural shift has happened where we are choosing unique names to be individual , to be different , and to be non conformist . This is to carve an identity , to foresee or to hope that an unique sounding name would make for a better life in the future . Apparently , an increase in common names meant of that generation correlated to the lower unemployment rates on both national and state levels.

This shift ,transition will see names like Narinder , Jatinder and Balbir be replace d by Nitika , Kashvi and Nyra … who would you call for an interview ? The names to shock in the west area different story ! Till then , I hope my name aka Biji stays .and , would you date a Kiara or a Kavita ? 

 

Conversations with BIji

Conversations with Biji

Why the name Biji? I don’t know it just stuck when my classmates started calling me this , maybe because I am an old soul and love talking about old fashioned stuff ,like religion or spirituality or feel that the era gone by was better where we still valued ethics, morals , traditions and also maybe that I have this side where I value Babaji or God more than anything else.  I started talking first on Spotify and then on Instagram and reaching out to people has been a blessing since a year. 

We all are at crossroads trying to live in this mad paced world where we are trying to keep up appearances and are caught up with the pretentiousness of a world that is projected . The damage that is done to our psyche because of what a perfect man or a perfect woman should be or how we should be because of the image that is broadcasted on billboards , social media and is presented as a false outlook to life.

Everyday , our accounts because remember we are so attached to our phone that is a third arm , that we get images how we should be ; perfect skin , perfect ass , perfect body , perfect hair, and how we should fit into a perfect mood .

Why are we never told that we are fine the way we are? We are given sermons to be just the way we are ; but with such a white lie and a rider that we should fit into the mould that society , our parents , spouse, siblings , friends want us to be. Try showing a spine , try telling them no , try telling them you wont do this or try telling them that you want your space, you are most likely to be told you’re difficult , stubborn , egotistical ,or are having your periods or having pms or are frigid. 

They have all terms for us , but none will try to understand you. It’s like you know that advertisement where they are trying to sell stocks and shares but a small line says at the bottom : subject to market conditions . 

The market conditions is what we are facing, many times I am considered ancient , old and not fashionable because I don’t drink , my favorite poison is coffee or water . I wear clothes that are me ,  a salwar suit and a chunni that isn’t taken in the right way . My hair isn’t streaked or all over r the place or isn’t cut Ina way that is flattering its tighter than a hangman’s noose and then the pressures to have a perfect skin. 

How about we start admitting t ourselves that its ok to be not ok? It’s ok to be just the way you are, all shades of chai and coffee and we make the best mix.

As a young child , boys and girls unknowingly , subconsciously hear about their color, they hear about the nose , the hair and that permeates into their minds and they start believing that if they were a certain color or had straighter hair they would be liked , loved. Appreciated more.

Isn’t that the universal dilemma ? We all want universal approval because that is what we all desire and need ; a certain shabaashi to  cater to all  , to be the cynosure of every eye . Even people who say no they don’t run after this , have a reverse psychology at  play .

Our mind forever wants to be appreciated , and the physical aspect is the easiest way . Here the mad race to be perfect comes in , sardar men cut their hair because they aren’t fashionable or physically appealing  to women , hence they would cut their hair but tie the turban because it looks more royal! The beard is trimmed in certain way , we all stand guilty of this ,  I am merely speaking it aloud.

Next time , you comment on someone remember the damage your negative comment can do .

We all want this quick 21 day result oriented life where we can get a newer body , tighter skin , perfect everything . A short cut to everything but this all takes work , hard work.Being born takes 9 months so what is the hurry in this change, be kinder to yourself is my mantra .No one is going to be kind, no one is going to give you the place , no one is going to bother . Just re affirm , tell yourself its ok if you’re abit over weight you’ve born the ravages of time , you’ve given birth , nurtured a baby , don’t be  in a rush . This is for women as society is more cruel , unforgiving to us , heaven forbid you don’t wish to color your hair , or have some extra fat .. why is the onus on us ? Don’t men wish to be healthy or is it acceptable to have a beer gut and a paunch just because?

Please get up in the morning and hug yourself tight , be kind to yourself , tell yourself , repeat that you’re perfect in the way you are , and you’ve got all this figured out and if the game plan eludes you , lets try that tomorrow . There isn’t a rush , a deadline , we all have our different paths , some achieve it early some 5 years  later , some don’t . It’s ok , you know what bothers one the most , its the voice in the head . The one that creeps in , nudges , disturbs and makes you question everything and makes you doubt yourself . It’s like in the darkest of the hours , or the wee hours of the morning it will nudge and start whispering in your ear , and then we start to lose our confidence . You will say you’re confident and you’ve got it all figured but sometimes being smug is also the downfall .  Many a times, a false bravado, makes us want to cover up everything because facing what we really feel is peeling away to many layers and its better to just have the perfect exterior .

Trust me , if its last thing you’d read here , its ok to share , to voice the small doubt or the mountains you’re carrying alone. That is why the word Biji came by and when we talk and talk aloud we must tings get better .

Part 2 tomorrow.. 

 

The Case of the ordinary glasses

    It all started with choosing a pair of glasses that would aid my increasing age and decreasing eyesight . I’m literally blind as a bat and can’t save my life if I don’t wear them and with this intense heat and sultry weather they just keep on sliding down . I have a weird nose as some say , thankfully its never been broken and if it had I would have been able to lodge the glasses there .  So , I’m looking for the perfect pair which doesn’t need to be blended to fit !

I went to the stores , fancy one where they make you download the app and everything is paper free and is OTP generated .  They even serve coffee to save the soul when you’re getting frustrated waiting for your turn. All the salesman walk around with their gadgets , and make you virtually check how your face would be with the glasses on . 

This all was so so new, I wanted the comfort of my old guy who make you try all the glasses. Here , you can look but don’t touch and they take out the frames slowly and slowly just like the ache din that are coming .

And, then they confuse simple village folk like me with their fancy schmancy terms , like the type of lens that one should use , it should be light , plastic , non breakable, UV resistant , blue light resistant , wouldn’t fog , and the brand . Coupled with this , its the designer frame , and heaven forbid you might say that you need a simple steel fram e, the old fashioned kinds with those little pads to stick to your nose ..

Trust me , he looked as if I was as old as the dinosaurs and didn’t belong to this era . I was dressed in the wrong clothes , and was asking for the wrong glasses and wanted a discount .

This age , this time , its de rigeour to just walk in , buy the designer glass frames and the fancy lenses and swipe the card and walk off with a message on your phone . Asking for a simple frame , with glasses that stay up where they are supposed to and also to haggle is a no -no . You’re frowned up as if you’re the goblin from Gringott’s and a mix of Gulati Sundi!

And the icing on the cake is if you ask for cheap glasses . No , no they don’t do them anymore, however my membership would enable free service, discounts and referrals . Do these even count? I wonder where the older shops and Uncleji’s have gone where they had pictures of Rajesh Khanna , Vinod Khanna , Parveen Babi , Zeenat Aman looking all glamorous in their glasses and one wanted to be like them ! Now , the chiseled torsos , picture perfect hair  and the contoured skin speaks of artificial beauty that suffices for an Instagram tag ! 

My woes are simple , I need glasses that stay put ( alas I have no Hermoine here ) and also the ones that don’t fog up instantly when I wear a mask .. the troubles of old age have started and I still have to write about my aching joints and stubborn grey hair!

The tiny changes and me

 I  am al l for reading  as you  know, I can read just about anything apart from horror !And , have stayed away from  self  help books or inspirational ones , I think it was hubris and ego that I felt I knew it   all but as the old adage , pride hath a fall. I thought I knew everything and sanctimoniously could explain these books. I always assumed that there would be a misfortune and man /woman would emerge victorious after struggles and overcoming all suffering . 

Then one fine day , I came across a story on Instagram and I read the lines and went and tracked the author . And , I did what every person does on the planet , I started following the author , and signed up for his free newsletter . It was easy and i started reading it and following it all . The book , Atomic Habits written by James Clear , which is about how tiny changes , lead to remarkable results . It is the tiny minuscule changes in our routine , our mindset , our outlook that we can make changes in our life . He clearly says the 1 % change is required . It is a fascinating book and is easy to read and follow . What appealed to me is that we can train our mind to become better , it all starts with one change . One more page , five more minutes of work , two more push ups , walking 200 steps more , all focus to becoming better , and these results don’t show overnight but over time he writes and illustrates how the improvement is .

Why did I change ? What made me react to this book more than others ? I call this karmic , all things that happen in our lives are aligned to occur at a certain time , which is predestined in lien with the higher consciousness . It sounds contradictory , that I advocate these changes and also submit to Him , but He also says that as beings we have to constantly strive to be better and also be productive . .

If there is one thing I would add to this book is , to take a pen and paper , write your thoughts down , make lists , don’t procrastinate over this , now is the moment , visualising the goal makes it seem closer and then achieving it by changing oneself step by step leads to the reform .

I always shy away from writing ,and have a million open tabs in my mind where I am writing and making up stories but I seldom pen them down , always deferring myself with unnecessary scrolling or something which is always more important ; it could be dusting too ! 

But since I read this , I promised myself two articles a week , and hence the first one is dedicated to this book , how the tiny things lead to transformation . Maybe , one day the Hogwarts letter might come because I might be wizard worthy .

Sandook

 It’s been sitting in the verandah for years and years and we decided to renovate and refurbish it to its former glory . In 1902 , a father lovingly commissioned the huge wooden cupboard for his daughter as befitting his status and to ensure that his daughters prestige and rutaba be maintained in her marital home. As was the custom in those days , the sandook was brought in to the verandah and all her clothes, her Khes her dhurries and all that she had carried with her put out for the in-laws family to see and approve. Then the village headman / the most influential man of the village would approve by picking up the dhurrie and folding it to signal his assent! 

This was a matter of great respect and would cement the newly weds position in the house. I wish the sandook had ears and could talk and would be just out of Harry Potters magical  Diagon Alley so that I could be transported to that era and also the history that it had witnessed . This two storey cupboard with brass inlay and the shelves put strategically so she could place her clothes is a marvel. It has the topmost floor with arches and tiles , maybe it had mirrors , maybe they had put bevelled glass ! I wonder what all the father had given to his daughter who must have lived a happy long life ( this is the hopeless romantic in me ) .. as patriarchy demands we have to provide for the daughter and now the demands have gone up more and more , instead of progressing  we have regressed even more .

We don’t value her but we value what she brings . A century more later , we still gift / give / or subtly give to our daughters so that she is cared for and looked after in her husbands home , a father a hundred plus years ago gave a cupboard as part of her dowry and it rests now rests with us , guaranteed to outlive me. The cupboard has been witness to her tears , her laughter and happiness and sorrow . 

Chapter 2 - Jalebis

 Eid was just around the corner the entire current of the village had changed , suddenly there were more bangle wallahas, mithai shops , and hawkers selling chunriyas of such bright colors and some were so light as if just a drop of red ink had gone in to the duppatta making it a light blush pink , and one that she had her heart was on as bright as Roohafzah red . Sheela , wanted the sheesha kinari chunnni with the tight fitting gharara for Eid Day , and she would wear the fake silver baliyan to match . She had her bangles lined up and when Ammaji was dressed , she was free for the day , to roam around , loiter the streets with her friends .ah , what bliss ! 

Arey Kalmuhi , kahan ho ? Ammaji was shouting , waking her out of her day dream and reverie of being lost .She knew something must have been misplaced or something was missing out of her precious cupboard. Aa gayi , ji , she ran to the room ,passing the Pir sahibs room and she saw that he was shouting at Chota Sahib . This was more interesting than going to Ammaji and listening to what she wanted. Why have you given the money without my knowledge ? They will never vote for us , if they can be bought with money they’re loyalty lies with money and they can just switch . How could you sink all the money from the sale of land to them? How did you not even ask me once? He roared , shouting , fuming and he had spittle coming out of his mouth , she knew better to loiter here . 

Ammaji , kya hua ? Where are my keys? I can’t find them , I need to take out my Jewelry and take out money for eidi . She started looking at the usual places where she hid them , under the mattress, behind the dressing table , behind the picture , but she could not find them . The keys weren’t anywhere , she was worried and she asked again Ammaji , did you give them to sahib ? Or did you keep them at a new place . She knew she must have hidden them at a new place so no one could take out he big bundle of money that had been given by bade sahib yesterday just to be sitributed for Eid. Ammaji in all her finery still dressed up as the matriarch of a the royal family , in her beautiful handspun light as air , a dull gold with a wire of pink and bootis all over , that she wore with a voluminous Farshi gharara , and her gold earrings with a huge necklace that had twinkiling rubies winking in the light ! Her kohl lined eyes , paan stained lips and her strategic juda that seemed to be half done half made . Her clothes were made by her Masterji who seemed to be surviving only for her and her clothes , it seemed he would not take the next breath . Masterji was from the Raj times and had made for the Gori mem’s , the fitting and the cloth , he would go into raptures talking about it . He was her absolute favorite and he would stitch her clothes with invisible stitching and the Kiran for Eid .

She wanted the keys to make bundles and put them into envelopes and just count them again . 

It also contained her favourite jewels , and the remnants of the Jewelry given to her by the OG , her husband who ruled everything before things changed with a sudden heart attack. Well that thought was for another time , but she needed to find the keys . Find the keys, and hurry up . Sheela started looking everywhere and she could not find it , she even went to the bathroom and thought of going to the kitchen and ask Chotu and other maids. But , no one dared do this , it was the impossible. She knew no one would dare do this as it was sacred , and everyone was afraid of the dark room where any culprit was taken to confess his or her crimes. A lot of people never lived upto own their crimes but she was scared now. A lot of times the keys were misplaced but were always found and now they weren’t anywhere and she had a sinking feeling that they would try to pin it on her . 

Venus is calling

 It’s tough being a woman , everyone wants us to have all these characteristics , rolled into one , imagine one hot body and the men have all these checklists for just one of us . We are currently in the 21st century , on the cusp of being obliterated just by a pandemic or by global warming which we still do not want to take seriously but we are still worried about whether the girl is fair or dark or is wheatish in colour . Men are more worried about getting married to virgins but still want to be in relationships to be cool . So the ones you marry are from Mars or the ones you are dating are from mars ? Venus has such a problem.

I have come to know over a period of time , when they meet they are worried more about whether you drink , the right answer being yes . They also ask questions like do you speak Punjabi ( for NRI girls ) , will you turn into a non vegetarian after marriage ?

Do you wear make up ,can you do housework ? You will have to wear clothes which Mama makes , or go to the tailor where she goes. It’s bizarre, men become proprietorial , patriarchal as if its their right just because they were born with the right set of genitalia . You can’t just work , because I say so , you can’t wear this because I say so .

How , when what happens to men when they are in a relationship or are planning to get married ? They want tall girls, why ? Because , she can clean the fans? Or this would help in betting taller babies !

How did we go back in time? Why are we not valuing women for their achievements ? They be educated , smart , beautiful , sassy , confident , pretty ! When a girl offends or talks her mind , she is outspoken, when she is upset , she is Pmsing even if she isn’t ! They want girls with an Emma Watson figure , a Kylie Jenner figure , who is good at deen (religion ) , who is a doctor too, can cook 800 different meals, with no ex boy friend.

And , they have all these requests from us , but what are you bringing to the table? Yes ,we live in a society where everything is skewed , differences are stark , and more than often the pressures to be a perfect housewife , mixed with a siren at night juggling a job and the kids , in laws and also not have any mood swings,  plus being a fat cash cow bringing in dowry . This is a rant inspired by increasing frustrations faced by young women when they face the marriage mart , its like as we are dealing with cattle , and you know funny enough the female species are preferred there because of the milk they give..

Irony is that we are hailed as the mother of all kings , the giver of life , sustainer , and the mother of all beings but to prove ourselves again and again and to be perfect because of a set of standards set by some one centuries ago or artificially boosted by the marketing conglomerates to enhance and sell products . I know this isn’t going to end , it will still be an ugly sore , and will carry on but today a mother sent her daughter to me , to study in the evening classes and her name was Beauty . She’s enrolled in the village government school . That’s the confidence I want for the future !

Jalebis

 It all started with jalebis. They ones Ghasiya Ram made, sometimes so thin and crispy laden with sweetness and other days they were thick bulbous dripping with sugar syrup as if it would soak away all the sadness and saltiness of the world. The jalebis were her one weakness, coming back from work , she saw the rehri everyday . Ghasiya Ram parked it next to the entrance of the railway station . It was seductive to the least , the sweetness was the call of the freedom to run away and escape the zamindari’s roving eye . Ammaji was her mistress and she knew that she would never let her go or let her lead a life . She wanted to be free , marry someone of her choice , not the ugly , wispy standby driver she was pawning her off to .

Sheela was the young maid ,beautiful ,comely figure , 18 year old with a long long plait that hit her bottom every time she walked , she was just about everything from the safai wali , organiser, cleaner of everything , polisher of the silver , masseuse , to the chai wali humming to some obnoxious hindi movie song , but also helping herself to the tidbits of supari from the paandaan! Her fascination was the silver kajal stick of Ammaji that was carved with a peacock feather … it was what she wanted to own but .. there was always a but in her dreams and reality.

Chaudhary Hasan Khan , the biggest landowner of the district , ruled over his family and servants with an iron fist . He was also the Pir designate , the political nominee and also the largest employee of labourers in this part of Bihar . They were closer to Nepal than to rest of the India and everyone slipped there for contraband stuff .

Her father was one of the couriers who went to and fro , sometimes for Baby’s noodles and sometimes the T-shirt’s which Chotu sahib wore ! It was a strange world . Chaudhary Sahib wore pristine kurta pajamas with twinkling buttons ,some said they were diamonds , some said they were pukhraaj but they shone like anything. His kurta pajama , whiter than white was made by Rafiq Masterji who was a tailor from the British times and was of an age which no one could tell but his pauncha was the broad one unlike the narrow mori favored by the young set and by his younger brother . 

It was a household with a lot of undercurrents , and everyone wanted to be the king . It seemed as if all were fighting to be closest to Chaudhary Sahib , to be the heir apparent and control the purse strings .A strange imbalance had occurred , the older employees loyal to the older guard were faithful to Pir Sahib , and knew the Gaddi would carry on under him following the tenets of religion , maryada and izzat ;  a growing portion wanted the younger more debonair Chaudhary who promised freedom and looser cash handouts and also the forbidden alcohol!

Emojicon

 We ‘re a sad generation , with happy pictures , time bound to our apple watches and fitbits timing and tracking our steps with no joy to walking anymore , capturing with our lenses to post the morning but worried about the tan , rushing to drink the lemon water with a dish of honey to miraculously dissolve the fat that stuck stubbornly just like Dobby . The joy of drinking ones tea gets marred with less milk , counting calories in the biscuit intake or the rusk that had been the staple of Indian since time immemorial. One again rushes to tackle the day again bound to the screen fiddling for news , absorbing the blue light , dealing with news over Whatsapp , some true , some fake and the endless scrolling to the reels and tiktok laughing away ones sorrow or sadness or disappointment and some like me connect with ones children via FaceTime . 

We are prisoners to our phones, chained to them with an invisible umbilical chord , without any parole.  But , sometimes , we get carried away with all the scrolling spewing hate , being rigid and divisive, spewing venom dividing on basis of religion . If technology has given us umpteen benefits ,we should also remember the dark dark times of Hitler, Stalin and Lenin and all the dictators who spilled so much blood that earth is permanently red there . A ghostly whisper still carries forward the pain and anguish ..

How is that instead of learning from this pandemic and it’s fatal repercussions we are all back to the sam e, we all just needed to be human and act human . Man is at its dangerous place in history , either we survive or perish at this brink where climate change has altered us , and our insensitive mannerisms are so marked that we want to kill first and ask later just cause the person is dark or practises a faith different than others . I write away , punching on a keyboard hoping to reach all of you , my faceless readers set apart virtually . 

And here , our plant doctor ( an illiterate man who has green fingers and can resurrect anything ) can just by the mere turn of the wind and the position of the sky forecast everything . 

We have forgotten to be one with nature but instead will download an app. To just be calm ! As , Sema said ,tussi ulajh Gaye ho and that hit hard . A generation that is now afraid of showing its true emotions but hides behind an emoji because its safer . I hope one day we can go reclaim the easier, simpler , calmer life minus the humdrum of an app or a so called reminder on our Apple Watch that tells me go walk or climb the stairs as I have been inactive ! Nerds who read this , maybe this is the next start up , how to unwind and relax minus an app telling me not to  .

An eye opener

 A chance visit to the biggest eye hospital in the region opened my eyes again!I was sitting in the office waiting for my turn , where a young girl was sitting on the patient’s chair and had just finished her eye examination. Her query was for a lasik operation whereas her spectacles would be removed and she would be cosmetically more appealing to society. Her aged father got up from the sofa next to mine and said in chaste simple punjabi that Doc Saab , I want her glasses to be removed because she has to get married and he didn’t want any problem . He wanted to make sure that her lenses would help and if the number would never come back. 

The pleading and the voice of the father stuck a chord in my heart and as I write this  I am forced to face the sordidness of the society . He wanted to know how soon she could resume work , how soon she could give her exams  and whether getting a foreign made one or an Indian lens would be better. How many fathers face this ? A society that is still so hellbent on dividing us by labels and categorising us on basis of color , looks , height , lenses and believe it on the structure of our noses or our necks! Truly an animal’s mart .

The father kept on talking to the doctor as if the magic wand or the operation would improve her chances of marriage and he looked for reassurance and guidance . Just because he was the father to a daughter it seems he had to go through this . How many fathers of sons ask their boys /men to go through this operation ? Do they even ever consider this operation? I don’t even know why I am writing this , or why I am revisiting this again and again . I so want to hold the fathers hand and tell him his daughter is more than this , and is more valuable than all this . He doesn’t need to measure her from this , but our society values women to be perfect and and to be an arm candy , she needs to be presentable ( whoever coined this word is an idiot ) . We worry about superficial things and sound very sanctimonious and make statements but when it comes to our own self , we have double standards . The groom can be beenga tedha but heaven forbid about the girl . 

 I wish , yesterday I had reassured the father but am guilty as the rest our society.

Modern Love in Punjab

 Love is the biggest paradox of all times of our lives . It’s Valentines in a day and I wonder about the exchange of gifts , balloons and presents to each other . When I was growing up , if a kissing scene came or there was a hint of love the birds would start twittering , or two buds would kiss each other ! Also , what we kept handy was the remote , suddenly the channel would change or one of us would get a hint with humph from our father or uncle and we would hurry up and  twist the knob!

It’s no wonder we are still grappling with ever increasing population and one of the highest consumption of condoms but we still have no knowledge of sex ! Valentine cards are sold at an all time high , red roses , strawberries coated with chocolate , presents which can be from the mundane to the exotic depending upon your pocket or even beyond it .  I was in the market and it’s as a sight for my village eyes and one could see the materialistic fervour and the marketing gimmick to sell an utopian dream , imagine you could only love or declare your love if you had given a teddy .

This year , I seriously followed the promise , teddy , hug , promise , kiss day and I was wondering how we ( women ) put ourselves out for a morsel of affection or approval ! How about if we just gave ourselves these without the time line or the stress and pressure of the dates ?

I found the best ones here , they were dual purpose love balloons, one was proclaiming my love and on the other side was the political party symbol!  One could be the love charger and also remind one of the political affiliation ! In the last political election , we had a couple that was divided over the parties they support but strangely now their shop is selling the balloons with different party symbols and trying to make a quick buck buts when I asked about their love they said it was evergreen but sharam karo no one talks about it !

Apparently , now life’s pace has changed and as the netas changed their parties so does the youth change the partners and the biggest change is that we have accepted all this as well sab chalta hai .. Now , no one shies away when a kissing scene comes nor do the birds coo , the flowers don’t kiss nor do the pigeons come , all there is a rating to check you. 

I’m all for love , Cupid and the roses and even good governance but this crass commercialisation has put me off! Imagine getting a ballon and on the other side it says vote for …

The Sorting Hat

 The sorting hat in Punjab 

I am transported to the great hall in Hogwarts with a bit of Punjabi swear words , ok a lot of them ! The current scenario is such that we have so many candidates crossing parties and barriers as if the philosophers stone lies with the other party . All of us are perplexed. Everyday one of them stands up , from Akali Dal , Congress , Lok Congress Party , AAP , SSM , all the acronyms in the alphabet have been used now and the ballot paper seems to have run out of space now . This is a situation that not even the finest author can get it self out , be it Agatha Christie or Jk Rowling . Imagine a situation where every politician is trying to sell his or her idea to save Punjab. 

 As a Punjabi , I am wondering whether why we need saving and from what ? Why do we need to be given money to lure us to vote? Every time , you want to make us vulnerable or susceptible to being dependent on a card that a said party has given ! Why aren’t these my rights? Isn’t this my Haq? 

I need , deserve and demand good health, better infrastructure , a balanced education system , and an economy where  I am not crippled . Why are these given as lure bait ? Are we the hunted?

Even in the magical forest , unicorns weren’t hunted , and we are precious too . And it was forbidden and dark too . This is what we foray into , a dark path . 

Punjab is at a cusp of ruin or greatness after fighting a valiant war on the borders of Delhi. Why is it convenient to be called a terrorist , a Khalistani when it suits the powers to be , but are hailed as a saviour during covid pandemic ? Yes we are emotional fools that’s why the maximum deaths at the border or any skirmish around the country after 1947 are Punjabis. 

But to prove ones nationality or allegiance is what pains me .

Also , how do leaders who are not even Punjabis come and make tall statements to save Punjab? When a turban is wrapped , so does great responsibility come forth . You couldn’t even pay your municipal corporation employees salary and then cried foul to the central government. Let’s not get int mud slinging , and the covid pandemic was too horrible or devastating to make a statement, so why don’t you concentrate on your state and its dismal state of affairs and abysmal pollution ? 

Leave Punjab to us .I would really want and wish and pray that magic unfolds and there is light int he darkest hour so that the zameer that is sort of missing in our leaders comes out and we all work honestly and conscientiously for a better Punjab . In the meanwhile I am also throwing in my candidature as Neeti Aloo wali ( no relation to the shutteranwala ) .  An open appeal to all , when we all are wise and have the acumen to crack the exams , IELTs , build careers abroad , stay back give this mitti a chance . And please , we ruined the system , no Martian came from universe , so the onus lies with us . 

Sincerely yours ,

Ravneet Sangha 

A mother waiting to go to Hogwarts .