Time- Hop Hop Hop

There are things that I want to write. 

I start composing a post in my head, and by the time I sit down, tackle the laziness, and open my blog page to finally write, I would have forgotten the issue that I wanted to write about. 

I have also forgotten the thrill that blogging use to bring to me, the friends that would comment and the long long discussions that have happened on this blog. 

Things have changed, people have changed and in the last three odd years, I too have changed. Whenever, I go see the memories on Facebook (yeah, you have that feature on facebook) or for that matter on Timehop (yeah, there is an app too for that!!), I wistfully smile, thinking about the past. The good times, the frustrations, and the future that I had imagined for myself. 

Is it the same? 

When I sit back and think about that, I believe that each of our actions mould the future that we will have. You can't really overthink about how things ought to happen. 

Because, when life happens, all your plans fall apart. 

You need some real magic to be able to stay on the track that you have in your mind imagined. And, twist of fate, like they call, is always a challenge to conquer. 

I can timehop into the past thanks to all the memories, but can't hop into the future, because each day is different than what you have imagined. Now and always! 

Tell Me your Dreams?

Dreams change.

From when you are young, to when you get older. 

I won't say wiser, because it is not that dreamers are not wise, it is just that, the dreamers don't care; about broken dreams of the past.

I remember that from a very very young age, I wanted to just get married [Yes, I am obsessed with marriage!!]. I used to often in my dream world and my fantasy land, dress up like a bride/ princess, with all the jing bang, and then wait for my prince charming. [Yes, the disney books and the indian alif lailas are also to be blamed for the way I behaved]. 

Then, as a teenager, I think my dream was only to have that proud moment with my Mom. [I was still obsessed with marriages but not of my own!] I was able to actually achieve that when my Xth standard board exams results came. 

And then during high school, my only only dream was to maybe have a bf, get my mom to agree to wax my arms and legs, to be able to wear nice sexy clothes (like all the fashionistas wore in my school); but most importantly, to have "that" set of friends, who would be there for life and to fit in. Typical high school misfit wishlist! [Now looking back, I should have just concentrated on my studies!]

College on the other hand was a major surprise. I fit right in. 

Oh, strike that off, I was the "Queen" in college. The topper, the charmer, I had an amazing boyfriend, and I was the most famous girl in college. BUT. 

[Yes there is always the but! And I am no saint!!]

But, I did not have the right internships, and even if I had the right internships, I did not have the right ideas to approach the firms for a pre placement offer; and at that point in time, that was my biggest dream. My Career. 

Things changed over the years, 5 years of law school later, while I was dreaming of getting a nice cushy corporate job, I had to get into litigation (that was the only thing that was available) and 8 months later, when there was a merger of sorts, and finally I was in the "Law Firm League". I have had the best time of my life while working that law firm.
I had the best boss, an exposure to the work that I really liked and most of all, the friends that I made. There were obviously some things that were not perfect, but then, it was a time, when I was content with the work that I was doing.
I practically had the whole career path and the life path chalked out.
And then I got married.

The marriage was probably the best thing that has happened to me, because, now, I have changed my dreams. I want to be able to make my family, and put time in to it, but at the same time due the constraints of living in a world where money is a bane and a boon, there are compromises that have to be made, and those are being made.
While I try to look for a work life balance, it is sad that the work bit of it is not working out.. the career dream is going nowhere and that is making me frustrated.

The illusions of life, often leave you wondering what are the dreams, and when will we ever get to fulfil them.. If we will ever get to fulfil them! 

Instructions to the Husband!

So this is what I want you to do,

Today when you come home,

Look in my eyes,

Deeply, to see my soul, my heart,

That craves for you;

Lean in to me,

Taste my lips, savour them,

A taste that you love,

Igniting a thousand throes,

Of passion in you, and,

In me;

Push me back, away from,

Your face, look at me,

Again,

Tracing your fingers,

On my face, committing to memory,

The face that you loved,

Love still;

With your thumb,

Rub off the black kohl,

The red lipstick,

Colour my face with your,

Passion;

Open my mane,

Freeing it from the bounds,

Of the hair tie, that holds them

Back,

Let them tumble down;

Now, peel off that dress,

Slowly,

Soaking in my skin, my limbs,

Not as beautiful as before,

But still yours,

Now and Forever;

And finally, love me,

Hold me, make us feel,

Like one,

Like the fire works,

In the night sky!

Oh baby,

Make me yours, own me,

All over again!!

Bombay 3.0

And it begins again!

The third year in the city of dreams was realised with some drama and a Party. We had just returned from a super awesome trip to Lakshadweep and Chirstmas and New Year were brought in with the retirement of the FIL. It was a chocobloc calendar of house guests and exhausting office politics. A deadly mix of in-laws from Calcutta, my dog and my parents! (One can only imagine the lengths that we had gone into to ensure that my baby doggie and my mom aren’t face to face! Dad met her and was pretty overwhelmed with her jumping capabilities!)

So in total Punjabi style, the Retirement Party preparations began. There was obviously a dance performance that was to happen, and with the Husband’s cousins and my own baby sister we prepared two songs in like less than 72 hours. There was a lot of food that was being cooked in the house, and I had no idea what was happening when and how! Eventually, on the day of Party after getting all the girls ready, I managed to get ready and be there on time (quite a feat for me!).

There were a lot of emotional speeches, and there was one “super drunk husband” speech, which I think is going to become a legendary running joke in the family. Oh, and in case you all were wondering, there was alcohol and a DJ at the party and you can conclude that the party was more Punjabi than Bengali!

Once the Party was over, all gifts opened and the guests seen off, the reality of what had happened came down to hit us hard. We had less than 2 months to hunt for a house, to move in and get settled. All the while struggling with the major set back on the career front.

The ex-I- Office had become a hell hole with the looming cloud of negativity. While, I had a set of my girls and some really great friends at office in general, the bosses were being bitches and honestly speaking all we could talk about the whole day was “how shitty was shetty today”. Of course, in all true honesty, Shetty did not like me, and that meant a fuck all appraisal with no real salary increment and the negative attitudes, it was but obvious that I shall be looking to change. And change I did, to a law firm called TLP.

All the law firms are in Nariman Point. And hence I am now in Nariman Point. We have moved houses towards the northern suburbs, and that means I am travelling three hours each day to and from work.

Really, what did I expect out of the third year in this city?

Considering that it is the city where dreams come true, I can with utmost confidence say that so far as the career related dreams go, I have been cheated. Thrice, now.

Okay, I am in the teetrhing period of the new job, but then, it seems that, instead opf growing, I am getting more confused with my career choices. My shrink had told me that there are no guarantees in this world, especially in the job world, and now with renewed hope that eventually dreams will be realised, I get up at 6 am and trudge to work!

So, the third year starts.

Celeberating being a Woman?

Disclaimer:

The thoughts below are that of the author and are not intended to defame anyone. This post has been written as a reaction to the current events, and being a woman, the author is angry and pained. If you are a sensitive reader, discretion is advised.

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As we come closer to this weekend, we are once more made to realize that we (read as women), are an important part of the society. We are beautiful. We are talented. We bear children. We are affectionate. We laugh. We take care of the family. We empathize.

Ironically, we are also raped, made victims of acid attacks, domestic abuse and unnecessary fatwas (from all regions/ religions/ casts and creeds) for being all of the above.

Congratulations, it is the International Women’s Day. And, you will be celebrated, for one whole day by the world, thanking you for all that you have and then, everything will become the same. Actually, it is the day to celebrate because of the corporate events, and because of the glorification of the values of the “west” (or so it is said), otherwise, for any other Indian woman, it is just another day.

It is just another day of rape, abuse and more fatwas.

An international director producer, decided, that in honour of the rape victims, and in honour of every woman who deserves her right on the body, and her freedom to express herself, by being herself,  she would make and release a documentary, where she has interviewed the rapists and has exposed what goes through their perverted minds as they force themselves upon helpless, sometime brave (like Nirbhaya) women.

And, the one man, who has shown no remorse is the rapist, Mukesh Singh, who while facing a death row (which unfortunately is in appeal) . He continues to blame that 23 year old girl, who was returning from a movie with a friend (who was a male). The Juvenile, a 17 year old so called “boy”, along with the six others decided that it is their “moral” duty to teach that girl who is out with a boy at 9 pm a lesson. So, they rape her. They maul her. And he says- That they raped her because they wanted to teach her a lesson, and they mauled her because she resisted and fought back.

And now that we know what he thinks, our own parliamentarians cannot face it. The cowards that they are, shielding themselves by providing reasons like “chowmien for rapes”, have banned this documentary from airing. I wonder, what scares them?

Is it the fact, that finally, a part of the masses will know the truth. That finally, we know what they think. And not just them, but what the male mentality is. Yes, I am generalizing. But, I can’t help it. There are people (yes, including the men; including Nirbhaya’s friend who tried hard to protect her, but is left with scars of that night, for the rest of his life), who stand up. But, then there are others, the ones who are downtrodden, for whom women abuse is a way of life (for both the victim and the abuser), they need to know. They need to be mobilized. But their own leaders, the very people, who should tell them the truth, talk about “boys will be boys and they make mistakes”. They will make laws curbing the freedom to eat what you like (yeah, the beef ban) but they will not make changes to the juvenile justice act. They will ban the real thoughts, for fear of repercussions, but will not encourage enlightenment and education. Because an enlightened society would never bear a ban on food they like and eat, and would not bear a ban on knowing the deepest thoughts of the pervert who decided that being a f*C*#@g bus driver was not enough but being moral police was more important.

The saddest part of the whole “ban the rapists interview” charade is that it is being led by a group of women members of the Rajya Sabha, being led by Madam Jaya Bachchan of the party whose superemo believes in shielding these perverts.

The basic irony of our society is that a woman will always judge the other woman. And, it is a woman, who leads the way for shaming another woman. Maybe, that is why, we the women of India, can never break the shackles of the society around our ankles. Divide and rule worked for the British to rule us for 200 years.

Women, are just few far apart, endangered by other sex specie, who will write her own downfall, because she judges the girl who walks out of a bar at 12 in night with a cigarette in her hand.

Charity begins at home. Women, unite. Stop judging, start fighting. Then the change will begin.

 

       

Being true to yourself

I read the following lines some where:
"Being true to yourself is such a lie. Everyone has a short term self and a long term self. And if one is true to their short term self, then their long term self slowly decays. "

So, can I be true to myself? Can I answer the very question that is the core of everyone 's being.
So, of you ask me," Are you happy? " ; would I be able to without a  second thought say, Yes.

I doubt. My happiness has become a jumble of complicated situations that I can't seem to answer.
If there was a single solution to all the problems. If there was one little thing that I could change, and all would be back one track, Life would become much less complicated and happiness would come easy.
But if there was a single point solutions to all the life's problems then that would make it easy peasy. And that really is not the grand plan of the universe.

So, how do I answer the most coveted question ever?
Should I explain the situation that I am in...? Maybe that would make it comparatively easier to gauge as to what is tugging my heart strings.
Or Maybe I should analyse a little more.. Or maybe I should just stop analysing anything at all.

I do know something though, that every time I look in the mirror, I hardly find myself there any more.
Some bits are there, but hardly do I find that girl with that spunk, with the dreams to conquer the world. Each if the bits are going.. One by one.
I look in my eyes and I lie to my own self. I point out the girl who was there. And smugly get going.

But the heart tugs. Yet again.

The proof, of me being not me is, that I am silently crying in the office bathroom as I write this only to go out and get working again.

Yes, being true to yourself is a lie.

Stuck in traffic

I am in Delhi for another whirlwind of a weekend, wherein the moment I blink it will get over and I will be back k to Mumbai.
This has become a weird routine, I land in Delhi more dejected than excited because I know that I will have to go back.
The weird thing being that I want to go back to my husband. To my dog and even though arguably it's not our house, still the four walls which currently are home. Then a week 10 days follow when I am still home hungover and as soon as life is slightly normal it's time to come back here again.
This time and the rest of the planned trips this year involve the husband (but not the dog, sadly) and it is fun.
Sometimes I wonder what if had we been in Delhi then would we have saved the travel expenses for at least the trips here? But knowing us, we would have spent it travelling elsewhere but then that would have been travelling delight for us.
Sometimes I wonder what would happen if we move outside the country.. I will probably die of longing for coming back home of seeing my parents and my dadi ma. Of missed family functions and birds, deaths and weddings.
And then when the husband tries to take a concrete step towards this moving.. I dissuade him, wondering if our adventure of staying away has already ended.. And it is time to find feet on the ground.
I am swinging between the idea of having an international stint where I can let go, cook for the husband actually take care of the house maybe have a kid also there and he can be a national of that country and the idea of biting the dust to familiarity of everyday life.
Funny thing is that I was not that adventurous when I was unmarried.
Marriage does have its weird side effects.