A page from - The Diary of an ordinary woman

A page from - The Diary of an ordinary woman

 

 

 

Sitting in front of my computer, I wondered what to write. Shall I write a horror story, a romantic one, an adventure story or something else. Haven’t written for long; ‘writer’s block’ maybe, but isn’t that for the famous authors! For people like me who write on and off it can just be termed as lacking a stimulating enough event, which propels me to pick up my laptop and start typing.

So, what motivated me to write today? The answer is- the  feeling of vacuum when one has not written for long. The inspiration, well…. just life!

The weather recently has been quite unpredictable. From unbearably hot days to cool pleasant ones. My mood too has been ranging from flaring hot anger to being happy and satisfied in my space. I am often advised by people around me that I should start working again, what with all the degrees I have safely stocked in my file and my son having flown from my nest to pursue university education. I have ample time to pursue whatever I want but the question that looms large is what to pursue? 

 

Teaching has always been my first love. Right from the time I finished my grade 10 exams, I started tutoring children, helping my friends with certain academic sections and pestering my cousins at times too. It wasn’t the only thing I loved to do but enjoy I certainly did. With passage of time, I kept screening out other career options and starting preparing myself for a career as an academician. When I taught students of varying ages ranging from grade 1 to students pursuing Masters degree, I felt elated. The sheer joy of interacting with my students gave me a high that could not be paralleled with anything else but as they say, all good things must end, and so did this passion for teaching. A career that had been extremely rewarding in terms of love that I earned from my students, turned into a bitter experience with the ever increasing commercialization of education. 

 

Teaching became increasingly restrictive, and projection became more prominent. The fun of conducting a class outdoors and letting a child’s imagination take wings, got hindered by the countless paperwork to show that things were being done better than the other schools. The constant pressure of multiple exams (so many pre-boards that leave me shuddering), the need to prove to parents that ‘something different’ was being done, countless activities, and then the humungous task of finishing the syllabus in whatever little time was left after the ‘parade’ was over, completely sucked out the joy of teaching. I hung up my boots and did not bother to look back. The only regret, I don’t get to see those overzealous bright faces every morning which brought happiness in my life. 

 

Currently I am enjoying my time as a homemaker. Of course, I am not an amazing one but I’m hanging in there. Whoever thought it was an easy job got it totally wrong. I would say, it is the most difficult one yet the most underrated. Unlike me, a home-maker’s day starts very early and ends after everyone in the house has retired for the day. As for me, I am enjoying a retired life currently. Doing things at my own will and pace. I am free to travel, explore and pursue hobbies that I didn’t have time for earlier (these thoughts make me so excited) but this phase is wonderful yet confusing at the same time. Wonderful because of this newfound freedom from routine and confusing because I start wondering if I am missing on something in life. I suppose we all encounter such moments at some point in life.

Looking for something which gives me joy and purpose yet does not bind me. Any ideas? Difficult eh!

So let us see what comes my way. Until then, I will enjoy life as it is and live every day with immense happiness because ye fursat ke pal har kisee ke naseeb mein nahi hotey, muqaddar wale hote hain wo loag, jinhe yu hee sochne ka mauka milta hai :-D

 

Mirchi ka achaar aur bachpan ki yaad!

 

2020 has been a roller coaster ride for people all over the world. Come the 18^th of December, and I will have completed total nine months in complete lock down! No going out anywhere and not letting anyone come home. No maid, no nothing. Wherein several people made babies during this period, I made loads and loads of delectable dishes :-D Ok, bad joke! Agreed, my sense of humor is not great!

So, one month into the lock down, when I resigned from my job, I thought I’ll pick up something soon. Maybe just part time, but then slowly the idea of being a complete homemaker got the better of me and I started enjoying tiny domestic accomplishments!

Today, I conquered another unexplored territory and that was making those mouth-watering pickles which are an Indian household’s indispensable food accompaniment, and immediately I was transported back to the days of my childhood when we would drool over the assortment of pickles that Maa used to make every season.

Summers meant various varieties of Mango pickles, Aam ka achaar, Heeng ka achaar, and Aam ki meethi chutney achaar. My sis was a lover of Aam ka achaar, so Maa had to ensure pickling at least 10kg of raw mangoes so that the supply could be maintained until the following summer. How can I forget those days, when the raw mangoes would be cut and then left to dry in the sun on flimsy cotton fabric! As, the entire neighbourhood slept in the warm sunny afternoon, we children would sneak upon those drying mangoes and eat up almost half of those tangy delights, much to the horror of the ladies who would realize that they had been deprived of their labour by some wayward children. Of course, we felt bad for them, but who would give up the fun we had pilfering those knick knacks!

Then came winters, my time of the year as Maa made my favourite Laal Mirch ka achaar!!! She also made Gajar, gobhi aur Shalgam mixed pickle and not to forget the succulent Nimbu ka achaar! We would stare greedily at the jars packed with those brightly coloured things inside, dipped in mustard oil, mixed with spices, laid out in rows under the bright winter sun. Our friends would be envious of us, as our Maa made the most varieties and the tastiest pickles according to them. We used to be ecstatic as we had those jars full of ‘Neighbour’s envy, Owner’s pride.’

Being brought up in the hills, we had a certain advantage as our school used to be visible from home. We stayed on the hill right opposite to the hill on which our school was, so Maa could see the students spilling on the school road during chhutti time. As soon as she spotted us from afar, she was light up the burner for rice to be cooked and by the time we got home, changed, and sat at the dining table, we would be served steaming rice, with dal, sabzi and our respective favourite pickles! Its strange how the simplest of meals can be so magical! No one in my memory has had the ability to deliver that taste which has settled on my taste buds over the years.

This magic of mom-made pickles continued even after I got married. I was dependent upon Maa for my regular supply of pickles. I just had to say the word, and the pickles would be made. However, this suffered a setback, when Maa started spending time abroad. Whenever she would be away in winters, I would miss my favourite and this annoyed me immensely.

So, this year, with loads of time in my hand, and a burning desire to replicate my Maa’s pickles, I went ahead and made my favourite Laal Mirch ka achaar and the winter staple, Gajar Gobhi and Shalgam ka achaar.

I don’t know whether I’ll be able to do justice to the taste or not, but I surely savoured every moment of making these pickles and was overjoyed to see Maa’s reaction when I showed them to her over a video call.

Besides teaching me so many other things, 2020 has added this one too to my list!

 

Lost innocence of festivals

 

The much-awaited Festival time is here. It’s that time of the year when everything seems joyful around. In India, there’s a festival every week and so you just get tired of the non-stop thing, but personally, I find Diwali to be the most magical one! There’s so much beauty and joy around, that the entire air has a festive vibe to it! What enamours me most is that the whole world seems to be illuminated and everyone has a smile on their face.

During my childhood, Diwali break for us would just be 3 days- Chhoti Diwali, Badi Diwali and Govardhan and right after that would be our final exams, usually within a week if we were unfortunate to have Diwali in November. However, the exam stress never dampened our festive spirits and we would wake up early to finish off some studying, (of course pretend to) before we got involved in the celebrations. Then, we would go up to Mom, ask her for large needles and thread and fervidly pick up marigold flowers from the garden and make garlands with it. God knows, how many flowers we butchered in the process and how many times we pricked our fingers, but eventually, the garlands made us gloat!

This would be followed by Rangoli making and I loved to make elaborate patterns. Of course, this rangoli love set in during teenage only. Prior to that, I would make the Kumaoni Aipan and ‘Laxmi ji ke paer.’ It was a belief that if you made tiny feet on the walkway leading to the temple inside home, Laxmi ji would definitely visit the house that night. Both these activities required me to be adroit as for the feet of Laxmi, I would soak ‘red geru’ in water and make a solution for the circular base on the floor and then I would soak rice and grind it to a paste for making the feet. This was the absolute traditional and preferred way of doing it, as one could just wipe it off after a few days and make fresh ones the following year. Later, I switched to making rangolis, for which I would ask my dad to bring sawdust, then dye it is various colours, spread it on newspapers to dry and finally make rangoli patterns with it.

There was an additional benefit of Diwali. Mom ensured that every Diwali and Holi, we wore absolutely new clothes. Since it used to be terribly cold on Diwali, the usual new clothes would be her famous hand-knitted sweaters. How we loved those and sported them fashionably or we thought so, as I still lack any sense of fashion!

In Kumaon, people make Laxmi ji with sugarcane every year. They make a frame of it, dress up the deity and finish off with a clay painted face. As children, we would visit all the neighbouring houses to have a look at their Laxmi and in the process, enjoy some sweets. ‘Singhal’ a spiral shaped fried savory used to be made in every household and so the target would be to hit that house first, which had the most tasteful ‘singhal.’

Being born in a Brahmin household, we had to bear with the enormously long, never ending pooja and were not allowed to touch the crackers before the pooja got over. The initial enthusiasm with which we sat at the pooja would gradually dissipate and we would start getting grumpy as the clock ticked by and we heard the increasing sounds of crackers outside. My favourite part of the pooja was a small ‘kullhad’ filled with kheel, a piece of mithai and the coins that were kept in it, that was given to us post the pooja.

Then we would rush out and watch the entire town, glittering with lights and the beauty of the town, reflecting in the lake, which majestically stands right in the centre of the town. We weren’t much of cracker kids so barring a few of our own, we would stand outside and just gaze at the fireworks. That was the pleasure of Nainital that apart from rockets and sky fireworks, you could enjoy even a ‘charkhi or anaar’ at someone’s house on the opposite hill!

That is the memory that is still life-like and vivid in my mind.

When it comes to festivals, I have started experiencing anagapesis! What used to make me delirious earlier, I no longer enjoy. I do not intend to disparage the festival, but I get a feeling that everything has become so commercialized now, that the festivals, have lost their innocent charm!

It has all become an occasion of trying to out beat the other in terms of festival shopping, price of gifts, expensive clothing, store bought sweets and a total lack of passion!

Everywhere, there is a mad rush, people making a beeline in the malls, pathetic traffic snarls and of course to top it all, NCR experiences the most horrible time of the year, when pollution levels are at an all time peak due to stubble burning and then there are these bans on fireworks because of it.

The only thing I look forward to now, is meeting friends and family but that too is slowly diminishing, owing to the erratic schedules of people. I long for the time when the festival was simple and uncomplicated. There was just love and happiness all around. You did things because you felt like doing them, not because there was a pressing need to compete with your neighbour or do something to be able to catch up with the things people did on social media.

As they say that people move back to basics sooner or later, I hope the festivals too move back to their old charm!

 

Why I chose a Co-Educational School for my son...

 

Schooling is one of the most important aspects of a child’s life. It forms the foundation on which the building of a child’s entire life depends. No matter what goes on in life, your school will always remain in the picture, therefore one of the major challenges of parenthood is finding the right school for their child.

When we were expecting our son, one subject we discussed was about our son’s education. Both of us were prompt enough to say and agree that we wanted our son to study in a Co-Educational school. Though this is mostly the norm and there’s no big deal about it as such, but since both of us had studied in ‘All girls’ and ‘All boys’ schools respectively, we were not quite comfortable with the idea of sending our son to one such school.

Before you readers fulminate against the topic at hand here, I must clarify that there certainly isn’t anything seriously wrong with single-sex schools and I have quite enjoyed my time there yet I feel that there are some outshining advantages of co-ed schools. Owing to my first-hand schooling experience, I surely can point out some of these.

1.     When you study is a single-sex school, there is always a weird curiosity about the opposite sex. You do not know what kind of people they are, what goes on in their mind, what they do in their school and so its like enigma! You are always in that mystery zone. In a co-educational setup, you know what’s what!

 

2.     A cloud of anxiety looms large in the presence of people from the opposite sex. This is marked by hesitation and discomfort and the person is usually ill at ease whereas in a co-educational school, girls and boys do not care two bits about each other and are quite capable of completely ignoring the presence of the other.

 

3.     Simple events like an invitation from a neighbouring school for an exhibition or a play, become like a huge ‘How do I look’ event. Girls and boys behave as if this is their one and only chance at winning the attention of the other! The hype is overbearing and totally blown out of proportion. In a co-ed school, every day is such, and so the craziness is far less apparent.

 

4.     Since children are thrown together from the very beginning in a co-ed school, they understand the ground realities well and are ready to work together and also pitch against each other in a very healthy manner. No one goes on an ego trip which otherwise can be an issue if one is not attuned to these things.

 

5.     Growing up in a co-educational school, makes you understand the emotions of the opposite sex quite well, and this helps one is dealing with a lot of issues in life. Students become emotionally co-dependent and can help sort out many problems for each other.

 

6.     In a co-educational setup, you learn to mutually respect each other. There isn’t any extreme feeling and so the thought of discrimination doesn’t arise. You learn to peacefully co-habit.

 

7.     And finally, you have an exciting group of people around you for life who know you just too well and can give you fair professional advice if you’re not getting along well with your boss of the opposite sex; and even marital advise from the perspective of your spouse, thereby simplifying one’s life.

 

So even though, we had our share of uninhibited fun in our respective same-sex schools, we felt, it was important to provide our son with a different life, which started with sending him to a co-educational school. Of course, how much a child wishes to socialize with the opposite gender is still her/his prerogative but at least, the option is there!

 

 

 

Fear Psychosis - Don't let it get the better of you....

 

                                     

Corona has been talked about so much since January this year, that the very mention of this word, makes one recoil. Believe me when I say, I wouldn’t have touched this topic again, had it not been for the sudden demise of a friend’s cousin yesterday. This moved her so much that she wanted to communicate the ACTUAL reason to a large number of readers and what better medium, than writing a blog post about it.

Fear psychosis is basically accompanied with anxiety and with so much happening in the world, most of us are living in the constant fear of something untoward happening to us. This paranoia has gripped some of us so terribly that we just cannot take our mind off it. I would be lying if I said, it does not bother me. It does; in fact, so much so, that since March, I have been literally been living under lockdown.

Thanks to the fact that online deliveries have made this period a smooth sail for people like me who do not need to leave home for work. This is basically a step to minimize the chances of contracting the virus, though still not completely negating it. You never know, how and when it takes us in its grip. But what happens when and if it actually does? Should it wreck me completely or should it just be like a roadblock?

Well, now I’ll come back to the point from where I started and that was about this friend’s cousin. All of 43 years, she contracted mild fever and a sore throat and visited the doctor. As any doctor nowadays would recommend, this doc too asked her to undergo a test for Covid. She gave her sample but the next 24 hours of waiting for the test result proved fatal for her as she let fear take over her. Fear is an understatement! She pondered, reflected, contemplated….kept dwelling on the thought of being detected positive with the virus to such an extent that she had a heart attack and immediately succumbed to it.

Imagine the plight of the distraught family members; her children, who will never again see their mother, and not because she died of Covid, but ‘fear psychosis’ got the better of her!

This post, my friends is just to tell you that we are living in uncertain times and we all know that. But maintaining our sanity at this time is tremendously important. The virus is strong but not so strong, so as to drive every person who gets infected, to her/his death bed. All those who follow the news would know that the mortality rate is just about 3%, which indicates that the remaining, will be able to recover and get back to their normal lives. One should be cautious but not paranoid and when I say this, I certainly don’t intend to let loose those people who are so bored of this concept of ‘taking precautions’ that they have decided to throw caution to the wind and venture out without masks, socialize and basically disrespect every warning!

While we certainly should not get paranoid to the extent that our lives are at the mercy of our thoughts, but we should also not take this lightly. Striking a balance is the need of the hour. Those who can stay at home, please do. Those who venture out, please maintain social distance, wear masks and sanitize.

Maintain sanity and good health people. We are all together in this.

RIP Swastika (not her real name). God give your family the strength to deal with this irreparable loss.

Will he ever even love me?

Shantanu and Surilee had been married for about two months. Theirs was an arranged marriage and even though they had spoken with each other over the phone several times during their courtship period, living together was an altogether different experience.

Since they both came from diametrically opposite backgrounds, most of their nights ended up in a tiff which left Surilee crying. Not that Shantanu did anything to hurt her intentionally, but the conversation somehow always ended in upsetting her. Of course, he went around the house doing nondescript things to help her and make her feel comfortable in the new setup, but his reserved attitude did not make him an expressive man and so Surilee always wondered whether he loved her enough.

On a lazy Sunday summer afternoon, when they were relaxing after a heavy meal, Shantanu’s phone rang. He had been idly fiddling with the remote, when Surilee handed over his phone to him. Shantanu perked up on hearing the voice at the other end and spoke over the phone in an animated manner. The conversation went on for about half an hour. Surilee looked at her husband with wonder! She had never seen him chatter like this. When Shantanu finally hung up the call, she couldn’t help, but walk up curiously to ask him who it was at the other end of the line?

 Shantanu excitedly told her that it was a long-lost childhood friend, Karan. They had spent the first fifteen years of their life together in a quaint neighborhood in Shillong and had been thick as brothers. However, Karan’s dad got transferred when they were in class 10, and the family had to leave for Gujarat. The teary separation was sealed with promises of weekly letters, which slowly turned into months, then years and finally the distance and passing time took its toll and the line of communication snapped!

Karan had finally managed to trace him today after about 20 years! Shantanu could just not contain his excitement. He had called up to invite them for his wedding. It was supposed to be a grand celebration at The Oberoi Udayvilas, Udaipur.

“Destination wedding!” shrieked Surilee with joy! She was a lover of exquisite architecture and this would be a perfect opportunity to explore the mystical town of Udaipur. Staying in the matchbox size apartments of Mumbai was never really her thing. She longed for large open spaces and this would be just the perfect getaway for her. The wedding was just a week away and so she quickly set down making the preparations. Since they had recently been married, there was no dearth of expensive clothing and accessories. It didn’t take her long to figure out that she needed to pack, nothing but the very best from her trousseau. For Shantanu, she picked up a sherwani and a tuxedo for the two events. She glowed on imagining how resplendent they would look in those outfits!

Shantanu applied for a four-days leave and they boarded the flight from Mumbai to Udaipur airport. Upon arrival, they were greeted by the Oberoi staff who escorted them to the hotel in a swanky BMW car. Surilee absorbed the sights and sounds of the city, as the driver drove nonchalantly down the roads to the hotel.

Once they reached the hotel, Surilee suppressed a squeal of delight. She was embarrassed at her own reaction, but Shantanu just looked at her indulgently. They were soon greeted by Karan and his family and the love and warmth they bestowed upon the couple, made Surilee feel completely pampered. Shantanu had Karan had a lot to catch up on and so Surilee decided to just take some time to rest. She retired to her suite and boudoir. The place made her feel no less than a princess. She took a nice long shower and then slept for an hour before lunch. The evening was set for the cocktail, for which she had a stunning evening gown to match up with her husband’s tux. The arrangements, the décor, the lighting – everything was like a dream for her. They enjoyed the evening and the event wrapped up almost in the wee hours of the following day. Tired of dancing all night in those crazy high heels for hours and hours together, Surilee was so exhausted that she slept almost up to lunch time. Thereafter, there were some ceremonies which they all attended with merriment and laughter. As they ended, Surilee took Shantanu for a stroll in the magnificent gardens of the property and stayed there till the sun started setting.

It was late evening and the wedding ceremony was to start in two hours. She walked back to her room, while Shantanu went on to check whether his friend Karan the groom, needed any help. As Surilee unpacked the sherwani, she realized it had crumpled up. “Oops”, she let out a scream. She had forgotten to give it to the laundry guy. There wasn’t any time left now, so she herself had to do it. As she sat down to iron the sherwani, she got a call from her sister who wanted to know all the details about everything. Surilee soon forgot about the sherwani as she chatted on with her sister, providing all the intricate details of the event. It was only when she smelt something burning, did she break from her reverie. “Oh my God! What the hell did I do?” Surilee could not believe what she had just done! The sherwani had now a large gaping hole right on the front panel of it. She had successfully managed to burn the outfit. Tears ran down her face and she was shaking with anger at herself and fear for what she had just done.

“What have I done? What will Shantanu wear at the wedding now? I’m such an idiot, I haven’t even brought any backup outfit. Will he ever even love me?” A volley of unpleasant thoughts clouded her mind and she was howling when the doorknob moved, and Shantanu entered. Ashamed of her callous attitude, she could not gather the courage to look up at him and continued wailing. Worried, he asked her what the matter was, but she mumbled something incoherently and just pointed out in the direction of the ironing board.

Shantanu was taken aback when he saw what lay in front of him, however he recovered from his moment of shock when he saw that Surilee was almost breaking down. He walked up to her and lovingly held her in his arms. She looked up at him and through the tear-stained face, said to him, “You’ll hate me forever for this. How could I have been so stupid?” and then again let out a loud cry. Shantanu’s heart was breaking to see his wife crying like this. He cupped up her face in his palms, kissed her gently on the forehead and said, “Our life has only just started together, and we still have a long way to go. We will both make many mistakes through this journey but what we need to know is that we will always be together in whatever we do. This is no big deal. Its just a piece of clothing. I can always get another one but what I cannot bear to see is you, all teary eyed. I’ll wear my Tux again, or maybe just any other shirt. As it is, when my gorgeous wife is by my side, I’ll be invisible in whatever finery I wear, so why bother!”

Hearing this, Surilee smiled through her tears. She held him tightly for a very long time. It was in that moment that she realized how truly and deeply he loved her.

The Captivating Moon

 

                                             The Captivating Moon

What is it about the moon that is so captivating?

Is it because we have been attuned into believing that it is an ethereal object full of mysticism? 

Or do we find it naturally enchanting?

 

Looking out of my window on a moonlit night,

I can see the silver streak of moonlight gliding onto the earthly greens with all its might.

Making everything appear truly magical,

The aura of the moon is so enchanting that it bewitches me even though its purely cyclical!

 

Companion to countless people around the world,

To the lonely kid who is up studying late,

To the awkward one who cannot muster the courage to say,

To lovers sharing a beautiful moment,

To lonely souls pining for love and attachment,

To those whose loved ones have departed;

And to those, whose life is as bad as if it never even really started!

 

Coming back to its beauty as we all clearly notice,

The poets and writers have done it true justice

Such is the magnanimity of the moon,

That its grandeur can never spell doom.

Even though it does not have its own light,

Yet it has kindled that ray of hope in the hearts of so many downright!

 

For me, it connects me to my love faraway at sea

Even though the time zone might differ

Yet I believe he will always look at it with glee

For I look at it here and give it a coy smile

Imagining it going all the way to whisper to my man

How much it means to me that he is mine!