The world that lives within me…

I wonder if it happens to a lot of people. Standing in front of the mirror and wondering about the person staring back at you. Who the hell is this and why is it mocking at me? A few seconds later you realize that it’s someone you know or used to know. YOU!!!

It often happens to me, when I start questioning why I am here. Is this really the present? Am I between time and space or am I the space in between the time or the time flowing in between the spaces? Is there a larger purpose to my being here? Is what I am doing really what I should be doing?

Most of the times these questions haunt me and make me question everything around me. And questions are important. When you question things, it shows you still feel…that it makes a difference…that you are still living. I suppose, most of us merely exist. 'Living life' is a forgotten concept. When was the last time you danced in the rain, or bunked the office, took your car and went for a long drive?

We are born free and yet as we keep growing up, we get more and more bound in chains.

Feeling that sense of life, when things matter is what makes being alive awesome. Why are we so afraid to be happy? Too often I have heard people say, ‘Don’t be so happy. Sorrow will follow’ or don’t celebrate just yet, things can still go wrong. Yes; so sorrow will follow and things will go wrong. But don’t let go of the moments that can make us feel alive, or moments that give us a sense of happiness, don't run away from those little things that make for a deliriously happy spirit…

So yes, I love my life. With all its ups and downs, with all its happiness and sadness, for all the people that have looked down on me and wished me to fail, for all the times when I felt hopeless or hopeful, for all the times that tested my resolve or made me weak and helpless…I wouldn’t have my life any other way!

There is a whole different world that lives within me…A world in which I instinctively know that no matter how much you do for people, it will never be enough. But don’t stop doing it anyway. A world where I know that every step I take will be full of hardships and heartaches but also that a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. So take that step. A world where I am a master of my own destiny…A world where I know I am and will always be “ME”

So feel the feelings and don’t give up on living!!!

In words of William W. Purkey….

“You've got to dance like there's nobody watching,
Love like you'll never be hurt,
Sing like there's nobody listening,
And live like it's heaven on earth

Going back to my roots…

The so called Himalayan Tsunami has already hit the beautiful state of Uttarakhand…My birth state…And the discussions and analysis of what should or shouldn’t have happened still occupies prime time on television. But I want people to remember that amidst all the tragedy, there is always hope of resurrection. The state and the people will rise up and soon!

When I was growing up, there was no state of Uttarakhand. It was all a ‘BIG’ state of UP. So automatically we were all ‘bhaiyas’. Tell anyone I am from Dehradoon and they would go ‘huh’?.Where is that? Tell them I am a Garhwali and the jaw would just drop. Things haven’t changed so much but I now tell them you know where Badrinath and Kedarnath are? Well! That’s my birthplace…

The state is called Dev Bhoomi and for a good reason too. It’s a land which consists of peaks and valleys, known since ancient times to be the abode of gods and goddesses and the source of the Ganges River.

I have travelled across the globe, visited so many cities and towns, but never had the chance to explore my own state. Very few realize that there is so much more to Uttarakhand than Badrinath, Kedarnath or Haridwar and Mussorie. Six months ago I took a 2 week vacation and decided it was time to pay my respects to my birth place.

My journeys took me to places breathtakingly beautiful. One of my aunt’s is a teacher in a village primary school near a place called Chakrata. It’s a small town about 100 odd kms from Dehradoon. This town is surrounded by little hill villages. For the first time I actually saw a village and its simplicity and their struggle for basic needs left me speechless.

The trip from Dehradoon to Chakrata was along a winding steep road with breathtaking views of the naked mountains. If the phrase ‘The journey is more important than the destination’ would ever mean anything, then it did for me on that road. And I wished the road would never end.

The town is an access-restricted military cantonment area and has restrictions on visiting foreigners. The Research & Analysis Wing, India’s intelligence service have their base in Chakrata. It is therefore a strategically important town. The area is known as Jaunsar - Bawar belonging to the Jaunsari tribe, which apparently trace their origin from the Pandavas.

The village almost did not have a motorable road. So we got off at one point and then climbed down a hill to reach the village. I found myself eagerly wanting to see the school. The climb down was fun. And as I turned around a bunch of 10-15 kids surrounded me and were looking at me as if I was from some different planet all together. They eagerly led me to their classroom which was as basic as you can think.

The village houses were so modest.
And it made me think how we crave for so many things and enjoy the coziness of our modern homes with all the high tech gadgets around us. For these people fending off the winter, looking after their live stock and keeping themselves warm is what a daily routine of life is all about.

From Chakrata we left the next day for a trip to Lakhamandal. I was very inquisitive to visit this place because in the Mahabharata, it has a very significant role. I can’t even begin to describe that journey. The road was almost non-existent. The turns and bends so much sharper. For miles, we didn’t run into another vehicle or saw people around. We passed several isolated houses…it was a scene straight out of an adventure movie and I just couldn’t imagine all those hundreds of years ago, people travelling to this place.

Lakhamandal is an ancient Hindu temple dedicated to lord Shiva. Lakhamandal gets its name from the two words: lakha (Lakh) meaning "many" and mandals meaning "temples" or "lingam". Plenty of artistic works were found in the excavations by the Archaeological Survey of India and it is now a heritage site.

The main attraction of this shrine is the graphite Lingam. It shines when wet and reflects its surroundings. Never have I seen such a wonder!

The local temple “pandit” asked us if we wanted to offer our prayers and opened the temple doors for us. It was a miniscule room with some more lingams. That place had some over 100 lingams which were unearthed during the excavations.

Twin statues of “Danav” and “Manav” are located beside the main shrine. The statues are its “dwarpals” (doormen). The belief is goes that when someone was dying or had just died, an appearance in front of these statues returns them briefly to life (to say goodbye to their family) before finally expiring.

One of the numerous sub plots of the Mahabharata contains the story which describes how Yudhishthira was a big Shiv bhakht and constructed this temple overnight with the help of his brother Bhim.

As I stood there soaking in all that I heard about the legends, it just made me feel so sure that a large of it could be true. I could feel the stones and the monuments shouting out to me about the history which was long forgotten. In the world of science and technology, faith and belief which have always been a corner stone of humanity is almost at a fag end of their life – most probably already lying next to the “dwarpals” awaiting the final journey. Wonder why is belief so hard nowadays?

After the temple visit, we headed to a cave called “Dhundhi Odaari”. In the local Jaunsari language, “Dhundi” or “Dhund” means misty or foggy and “odaar” or “odaari” means cave or hidden place. According to the legend, this temple and the adjoining area are believed to be where Duryodhana conspired to burn alive the Pandavas in the “Lakshyagriha” house, constructed with shellac.

Anyone who has read or watched the famous epic called Mahabharat, would remember the plot to burn the Pandavas alive. Since the Pandavas knew of the plot, a tunnel under their palace was constructed which opened out in a cave from where they fled. So there I was standing in front of this cave, thousands of years later bewildered and excited. As I stepped inside I could feel the images flash in front of me. As I moved further in, the darkness engulfed me. Ahead was a small entrance to a tunnel. Apparently the tunnel from this side is now blocked due to a landslide which occurred years ago. But standing at the entrance of the tunnel, it surely looked the legend was true. It bore the mark of history…And as I was standing there, I realized that now I am somehow a part of that history too. That the history may be forgotten but it will always live through…Somehow or the other!!!

We completed our journey and returned to Dehradoon and I had my heart in a flutter. I had some new perspectives in life….all the things we crave for in our homes, with which we define our success in life faded in comparison to the success of the Jaunsari people in living in their simple homes on those treacherous slopes. Their daily lives much more of a struggle than our journeys in air-conditioned vehicles to our haloed offices, and the villagers could still smile. And we?? Constantly complaining about how difficult life is – guess we humans can never be at peace; and if by some miracle we do find that peace within ourselves, then we know that we have truly succeeded.

So for all that my birthplace was and is, I hope it will continue to still be the place where the Gods continue to reside!!!

“The Boy in the Blue Shirt” - My entry for the Get Published contest

One can never really be prepared for the surprises life throws at you. It’s almost funny how things that you never thought possible just happen and you are left wondering, what hit you! At times you meet people whom you want to forget instantly like a bad dream. However when your paths cross again under different circumstances, you tend to realize that “Hey! There is something so special about…” This is what happened when she met him again ‘That Boy in the blue shirt’

In school they had common friends, moved in the same circles but were never friends. Actually it’s hard to explain what they were. She was the “Ms Popular”, always excelling in all she did. He was a charmer, a brat who was used to getting what he wanted without working too hard for it, a careless air about him at all times. Always ready to fight for anyone, with anyone, for any cause. Each was aware of the other but had nothing in common. Their paths never crossed till one incident brought them face to face in a head on fight. Both stood their grounds, friends chose sides and teachers had to mediate. They never spoke again, until a decade later when fate brought them together.

Siddhant Singh, now a young captain in the Indian Army, is as charming and carefree as he was in school. Aria Mathur a level-headed, smart and independent young woman believes in taking life seriously. One fateful evening their paths cross again, and they did not realize that, life would never be the same.

As the story unfolds, the two discover themselves and each other. In the age where mobile phones and emails were unheard of, the letters that they write to each other help them discover true friendship. Before the relationship moves to the next level, the Kargil conflict breaks out and Siddhant moves with his battalion to the front. Aria’s letters give him hope, an inspiration and the will to make it back alive. Aria realizes how deeply she feels for him but never truly admits that she is in love with “that boy in the blue shirt”, who made her cry in school. Siddhant is gravely injured in the war. Will the two now best friends confront their true feelings for each other? Will the letters that bound them in friendship also show them the path towards true love? This is a heart warming love story between two very distinct individuals who became the most unlikely of friends, but will that lay the foundation of an everlasting love.

What makes the story real

The story draws inspiration from the writer’s own experience of how two very different people forged a lasting relationship, despite a seemingly impossible distance to cover, threaded together with letters and thoughts which kept each of them focused on their own lives while they kept getting closer to each others.

 

This is my entry for the HarperCollins–IndiBlogger Get Published contest, which is run with inputs from Yashodhara Lal and HarperCollins India.

The long and short of life!!!

Relationships I feel are the hardest things to manage in life. Maybe, because it involves people and people have so many emotions, thoughts, preferences etc; each unique in their own way. I often thought of life as black & white. But as I grow older, I have realized the growing shadow area between black & white and how the grey area now seems to be the dominant one….Most often, the truth is right in front of us but then to most people, the truth is only what they are prepared to see.

We run away from confrontations because it’s probably easy to do that rather than confront the situation.

We all say ‘wish life was simple’ and I think it is. It’s ‘us’ that makes it complicated. Is it because we live in such a complicated world that simplicity is a long forgotten concept? People live with their egos closer to their heart than they let other emotions do…

A case in point is a dear friend who was seeing this lovely lady - A very successful, intelligent woman. They just kind of had a fight over some petty issue and each held to his/her ground. Both didn’t want to take the first step least it showed them as the weaker of the two or the one more desperate. Friends tried to patch things up but all in vain. And it made me think that compromising or adjusting has suddenly become all too tabooed. In the zest to hold your own, people are willing to let go of things and people that bring happiness and purpose in life. Wouldn’t it just be easier to let go off your ego?

Happiness is now a myth. Most of the people I see around find happiness in their misery. Blame it on life, on people around them, their fate, something they deserve etc. I see more and more people having such a myopic attitude towards life.

It’s important to live in the moment and make that moment livable too. If the moment in which we try to live is questioned on the how’s and whys and what ought to be or not, then it is probably better not to live in it at all.

A friendship they say is for keeps. Yet today how many of us have shoulders to lean on outside our immediate familial relationships? In a highly competitive and result oriented world, we seem to be drifting away from each other all the time. People are wary to get close. They want to maintain a distance. It’s not that the world is short of amiable individuals, but we surely have forgotten how to maintain positive camaraderie. In a mad rush to keep up with the fast changing pace of urban living, we fail to nurture and care for basic ties of love and warmth that binds us all together.

Everyday our life demands a lot from us, be it relationships, job, responsibilities etc. I am not saying that we should ignore those we do not like. I am simply saying - to myself, if no one else - to keep the bigger picture in mind. Things or people that do not matter, need not demand and get our valuable time. Don’t sweat on irrelevant stuff. It’s not worth it. But those that do matter, make sure you treasure them. A good relationship today is not one that just lasts but one that coexists with self-respect, individuality and allows your need to grow.

The days are long but life is surely short…So in the long and short of life, don’t forget to LIVE LIFE!!!!

The elusive “Makaan” – “Yeh hai Bombay meri jaan”

The song from the movie Gharaonda ‘Do Deewane Shahar Mein Raat Mein Yaa Dopahar Mein”; somehow resonates the way life has been for me for the past few months. It has been an uphill task to help a friend find accommodation in Mumbai. My friend was looking for a place closer to his office so as to save on the grueling travel time and the mounting transportation expenses (the taxi and auto fares in Mumbai have touched the roof). He had a fixed budget (though I persuaded him to increase which he did so very reluctantly J). Born and bought up in Mumbai, I spent 20 years staying in accommodation provided by the company where my father worked and then we purchased our own house. So I wasn’t sure about how to look for a rented place.

The search started on the internet. makan.com, 99acres.com, indiaproperties.com, magicbricks.com, quikr.com and the list goes on. It took about two days just to search the net and narrow down the choices. We needed a furnished flat within the budget which was proving a difficult combination. To top it, my friend is a bachelor. It’s surprising how many societies and owners refuse to let flats out to single people. In a city like Mumbai, where so many people come from other cities for further studies and jobs, single persons can’t find a decent roof over their heads.

Anyway after making a list of a few agents, taking down the house details, on a sunny Sunday afternoon I set out for the recce. The area we shortlisted was Prabhadevi, in the heart of South Mumbai. Our school was in the same vicinity so I was quite familiar with the area. A thin lanky fellow walked up to me and introduced himself as the property agent I had spoken to on the phone. He was 5ft nothing and looked no more than 15 years old. And I thought to myself what a great start this seems…Phew!!! All the buildings in that area are older than 30 years and there are no elevators. I went up and down some four buildings and saw about 6 flats but something was amiss in each. One which was fully furnished and well done up, but was 4k more than the budget. The other was so unclean; I wondered how people treat houses just because it’s rented and doesn’t belong to them. I almost finished half the bottle of sanitizer once I got out of that house.

I also realised that there is a huge difference in the details mentioned on the net and how the houses actually were. They say semi-furnished and all that is there is a lonely cupboard. Fully furnished in some cases meant only a lousy mattress, cupboard and a desk…

The first trip was a total waste. I had exhausted the first list. This meant going through the net again and searching for some more. This went on for the next 2 weeks, and all the property agents in that area knew me by name. I became the most sought after client.

From Prabhadevi to Worli to Lower Parel to Mahalakshmi, I must have visited at least 15-20 flats. Finally after doing the whole circle, I came across the same flat that I had seen on the first day but didn’t quite like. The owner agreed to rent it out in the budget we had and agreed to provide the flat with all the necessities.

So on a Friday evening, all excited to finally close this deal we met with the flat owner with a line of brokers tagging along. We seemed to hit it off well with the owner and after inspecting the house; we handed over a list of things we wanted rectified in the flat. When it came to discussion on the money matters, the owner demanded all rent payment in cash. Wow! That came as a surprise because I had told the agent that all payment will be by cheque. We negotiated hard with him but he refused to budge. It was such a dampener and I couldn’t believe that this was happening. It meant going through the same ordeal of looking again which I just couldn’t handle. All guns blazing, we couldn’t manage to change his mind.

Downright pissed, but not ready to give in so easily I started all over again. But nothing seemed to be working. Meanwhile my friend had got an ultimatum from his current owner to vacate the flat he was staying in. He was angry and frustrated and I was tired and disheartened. Is it really so hard to find a decent roof over your head in this city???

Somehow I don’t know why but my intuition kept telling me that I should try for that house again. I called the property agent and requested him to try again. Gave him some pep talk about how only he can handle it etcJ. It took a few days and many phone calls and going back and forth…the owner finally agreed to all terms and conditions and my friend moved in a few days later. Mission accomplished!!!

During my entire search, it become evident to me that housing apartheid exists so blatantly in this city. Every broker asked me a plethora of questions on the proposed tenants’ marital status, caste, eating preferences etc. It was funny because we were not talking about security concerns and that should be the top priority in renting out a house. Not whether I am a veg or a non-veg.

Many localities in Mumbai (and I think it will be true for other cities as well) have unwritten codes of barring people based on religion, vegetarianism, marital status etc etc.

I couldn’t agree more when I hear people say, in Mumbai city you can find yourself “roti” and “kapada” but only lucky ones get the “makaan” too! A big fight for every inch of available space and only the persistent win!!!!

The dreams my father had for me…

My father…what can I write about him. One of the most complicated but also the most genuine and honest man I have ever seen. Eldest of 6 siblings, he was a total rebel right from the start. And I am my father’s daughter in every sense. I have always been rebellious and have found it difficult to confine myself to the suffocation of rules, especially the ones whose reasons for existence couldn’t be explained by anyone, least of all the makers themselves. My father always inspired a resolve to challenge the norms and to never accept things just because they are supposed to be that way.

My father raised me and treated me like a boy. Not because he wanted one and had two daughters instead but because he wanted me to be the rough & tough kind, who could brave any storm. He taught me how to box since he was a professional boxer himself. He helped me develop the strength and wanted to make sure that when and if such a time comes, I not only defend myself but also knock down the one on the wrong sideJ

I learnt to play chess with him. Though, I could never beat him in this game it taught me to be patient, make my move only when I was ready and taught me the skills of anticipating an opponent’s move. Basically, it shaped my thinking and helped me to become a strategist of sorts.

He was an ardent reader. He had this huge collection of books…all classics…Though our house was small and the books took a lot of space but my father never gave away even one. He was the reason I took to reading at a very young age. But it was only when I started college that I was given access to the treasure that he had collected over the years. To this date, the treasure is safe with me. Sometimes when I miss him a lot, I just open one of the books and read it and I can sense his presence in those books.

It appeared in the conventional sense that my father had been a tad unsuccessful in most of his endeavors. But he didn’t fail in his honesty to himself and the fact that he never blamed ‘someone’ or the ‘system’ for his failures. He took full responsibility for his actions and for the outcome. This in itself was an inspiration for me...

I remember once having this conversation with him when I told him that he needs to find his zeal back and fight even harder. He just smiled and said that “You will make it big in life and then I will know I have succeeded”.

Like my father, I went through an intense struggle as a young lady, trying to find my foot in the door, defining who or what I am and where is that I want to be. The one promise that my father took from me was, ‘Make sure where I failed, you will succeed, and succeed calmly, strategically, using the panache and persuasiveness that I have taught you and on your own merit’.

So with that promise in my heart, I set sail on my journey. But even before I could start, I lost my father. A sudden illness and he left us. A big void was left in my heart. I couldn’t even get enough time to mourn his loss because I had to look after my family, I had to suddenly become “him” and I wasn’t ready yet.

The strength however came from the fact that maybe he went away knowing very well that he had instilled in me the necessary will and confidence to shape up my life in ways that he wanted me. From there on, my father’s failed attempt to set things right became my life’s objective. My father’s dreams forged my dreams, and through a kind of sacramental experience after his death, my father’s struggle became my inheritance…

All through my life I have carried a single image of my father, one that I had sometimes rebelled against but had never questioned, one that I now try and take as my own. An image of uncompromising honesty and the will to rise above the occasion with your head held high. In all of the ups and downs, that image has always helped me stay afloat and reach the shore.

So here I am, almost a decade after his passing hoping that I have proven every bit a daughter to my father and hoping that I have fulfilled every dream that he had for me. So dad, wherever you are and I know you are watching me…I hope you are as proud of me as I am proud to be your daughter. You taught me how to have the courage to keep standing tall no matter what…Your life and the way you lived it has been and will continue to be my beacon. It’s only because of you that I am what I am. And no matter how far I go in life and how successful I get, I will always be my father’s daughter!!!



The Perfect Marriage...huh!!!

A lot of my married male friends often tell me that there is no such thing as a “perfect marriage” or a “perfect couple”. After a few years all marriages become a routine - an adjustment of sorts. Most of my female friends though actually believe that they have a perfect marriage. At least that’s what they brag about.

I am sure, enough has already been written about this topic and I don’t want to add to the questions. In my humble way, I will try to attempt to unravel this mystery.

In the early days it was simple. You got married, had kids, worked the land, and stayed married whether you could stand each other or not. Our parents were taught by their parents to stick it-there was no other way. This was passed down through the generations. I grew up thinking that marriage is for keeps. But all around me, I now see how this concept of permanency in marriage is diminishing.  I think husbands and wives are now more independent of each other. The dependency levels are going down and consequently so are the levels of patience and commitment.

Marriage obviously requires 100% commitment. But that doesn’t mean that both partners need to give 50% all the time. Sometimes the ratio may change and be 30-70 or 60-40. It doesn’t really matter who gives how much, as long as it still accounts for 100%. If you start questioning how much each is contributing, you are surely heading for disaster.  It is not a contest, it is a relationship. This basic fact seems to remain unnoticed by most modern couples.

The problem arises when you start guessing what the other thinks or will say or react in a particular situation because you know them so well. That’s where you go wrong. You start assuming and your reactions are often based on these assumptions. You do start to know your spouse to a great extent, but with individual expression becoming the norm, it is futile to try and second guess each others’ thoughts. It will only emphasize a feeling of being taken for granted, which in any case can spell the death knell for any relationship. 

Most of the love marriages start of as friendships and then turn romantic and then marriage is the next gradual step. In all this process, most couples stop being friends to one another. The so called bedrock of friendship that laid the foundation to their relationship goes missing. So, your hubby wants to spend the night with his buddies watching a game of football or cricket. Why can’t the wives give that freedom to their hubbies? Didn’t they do this in early days when you were friends?

Often I have seen hubbies ridicule their wives behind their backs among friends. They obviously think this is funny and it’s ok to do so. But is this really “cool”? Isn’t it better to actually discuss what troubles you have with each other, than bicker behind the scenes and let the resentment build?

Marriage, like any other aspect of human existence, also goes through phases. The key is to identify the phase and then change to adjust to that phase. If you expect things to always remain the same, you will be severely disappointed, often irreparably so.

Obviously there is no magic mantra on a successful perfect marriage. But it may help to keep in mind some salient issues. A marriage is not a job and it doesn’t come with set of instructions or a menu card. But there is definitely some amount of assembly that is required. With the high level of stress and the fight for getting the necessary time & space, a modern-day marriage can be as tough as getting a vehicle assembled. You need precision and teamwork, in this case a team of two. A tried and tested formula is to look for reasons to do things together. Pick up a sport that you both enjoy and play together. Wash the car together, or do housework together-anything that both enjoy doing, or learn to enjoy together. Also, talk to each other, it is as simple. Just say what is in your mind and fight over it if need be, but communicate, for heaven’s sake.

In most relationships, the failure is often the collapse of the communication bridge. We just stop talking and listening. The conversations become less about each other and more about the kids and rest of the stuff. Other things are important but you can’t lose yourself on the way.

Even though you know it and have said it a thousand times, never stop saying "I love you". Keep the romance alive - send flowers sometimes (not just on birthdays and anniversaries) just to let them know you are important. Call them during the day, take your spouse for dinner (just the 2 of you), take short romantic holidays (minus the kids). And don’t think this is only for the young couples, or the newly married ones. The older the marriage, the more work is requiredJ

Another golden rule - never sleep over a fight. If you have an argument, just make sure you resolve it before going to bed. Even a small argument if not resolved in time can lead to major disaster. Kiss and make upJJ

To sum it all up, marriage like every other relationship will never be perfect on its own. It needs a lot of hard work, dedication and above all, patience. In words of George Washington, “Consider marriage as the most interesting event of one's life, the foundation of happiness or misery”. The choice of happiness or misery is our own!!!