Memories that got lost

I feel terribly jealous when people talk about their childhoods and have extremely clear memories from when they were 4 or whatever. I hardly remember anything- except maybe blurry snippets of the faces of a few friends, what games we used to play (our entire lives didn't depend on the television even in the early 90s) and the few fights we had. Even when I think I do remember some small thing, it feels like a dream- very censored and hazy and sometimes I can't make out if I'm making it up or if it really happened!


I have one clear memory of a conversation with one of my neighbourhood friends, Shilpa (I don't remember her last name- the beauty of it is, at that age we didn't feel the need to find out). She told me that the sun was a star and I looked at her like she was total idiot. The sun is yellow, not shiny and too big to be a star, DUH. I had a good laugh at her expense. And eventually, obviously I wasn't the last one laughing.


But other than these small fragmented memories, I don't remember much- I don't remember what I spent my time doing. I don't remember what my thoughts were- I just remember wanting to grow up so I wouldn't have to take orders from grown ups anymore.


I keep trying to piece it up- ask my aunts or my grandparents what I used to be like (apparently either my parents didn't love me or the no-memory thing is in the genes, my parents remember nothing. My mother doesn't even remember what hour of the day I was born- How anyone can forget the exact time when something came kicking and screaming out of your body is a wonder to me). 


Anyway, so this is the synopsis of the report I have received from people who knew me from then: I was a well behaved child. I loved sweeping every corner of everyone's house (how life changes!). And I was the kind of child that didn't care much about dolls and toys. Sure, I had an imagination and used to tell stories or paint or write my own 'newspapers'. But mostly, I just constantly wanted company (not much has changed on that front).


I always insisted on a 'real doll'.


Just after I started playschool I told my parents that I noticed everyone at school had 'real baby dolls' (read siblings), and I definitely ought to have one too. My poor parents, having wanted only one child (and me being more than a handful) tried to pacify their 3 year old by giving her a room full toys, but I was a stubborn one, even then. I wouldn't be bribed- no, not me. I told them I would refuse to eat and cried till they assured me that a 'real doll' was on its way.


And that's how my sister was born- a fact I don't let her ever forget. Especially when I want her to do something for me- 'Remember you were born only because of me- you're indebted to me for life.' (of course this actually worked only till she was ten; after which she'd promptly ask me to get lost).


Thank god she's here and thank god she has a good memory because even when eventually I got bored of my new 'real doll' and wanted her away from me so I could play with other dolls my age, she hung around and pestered me. She has 'clear' memories and when I talk to her she helps me relive them now.


Mostly, I thank god because she's the best 'real doll' that anyone could've ever asked for- I can't imagine how dull my life would've been without her.

A new year and new butterflies in my tummy.

It's New Years' Eve and like every year, while everyone is celebrating, I find myself feeling uneasy and not as celebratory. First, it's the end of the festive season and this is depressing (the festive season is the only semblance of a summer-holiday type carefree time for us working class people; because no one wants to work and everyone is out on vacation). Second, and more importantly (read 'more scary') it's the beginning of a new chance, with a supposedly clean slate. 

'Cheers to a new year and another chance for us to get it right'-- Oprah (also borrowed from a friend's BLOG)

This makes me kind of anxious, because it means I have to make the effort to try to believe that everything could be new and nice for the following 365 days. 


The reality is, you'll still be broke if you're broke. Your grandpa will still be ill if he was ill. The government will still fuck you over--they always do. And all those other factors you can't change will still be the same-- whooping your arse every time you look away for even a second... I mean it is technically just one day after the last 365 days right? Not like you have a special date with a Genie on New Years' Eve who will grant you three of your most heartfelt desires/wishes.

What you can do is take control of your life and do things with a lot more determination and hardwork this year. This 'New Year' and 'new chances' thing, it's really just a made-up 'new slate'-- it's a switch in your mind that you can choose to turn on or off. It's still going to be you renegotiating the TNCs (Terms and Conditions) of your life with yourself and renewing your self-motivation deal with yourself. Nothing exciting about that. I could do that bang in the middle of the year in June or July instead of making mass resolutions with the rest of the world on 31st of December.

And renegotiating a new self-motivation deal with myself makes me nervous. I can be a pretty hard bargainer. Hence the butterflies in my tummy.

All that said, I've still gone ahead and made some resolutions:

-Travel once a month or once in 45 days at least, even if it's a weekend getaway. (If I'm lucky maybe a trip to Australia in Aug)

-Lose a LOT of weight (the precise amount is not to be revealed!) and be Fit.

-Pick up at least two more hobbies (preferred options: Sewing and Photography)

-Brush up on French and finish learning Spanish (even if that means making random Spanish and French friends and forcing them to talk to me!)

-Save money and stop being in an eternal state of BBB- Broke Beyond Broke (even if that means making major life decisions)

-Write write write. And write some more.

Ok, that's all. Let's hope I can get these done. I'll make other smaller mental notes as we get on with the year.

Please 2011, if you can, please bless me and my life and give me what it takes to shine :) Thanks in advance!

That Big Step

I've suddenly found myself at that age where everywhere I look, someone is smiling at me, giving me a beautifully embossed card and saying, 'it'll be great if you can make it'. Yes, apparently almost everyone (of eligible age) that I know is getting married. Or aspiring to get hitched in the next few months. 

And 2010 is apparently The Year to take That Big Step. 

No seriously, I'm hounding my mother for saris and jewellery for weddings that are SO back to back that it's impossible to repeat clothes and not get noticed for it (and the facebook shared photos don't help!).

This is what I've been upto in the last three weeks.

-Getting salwaars and blouses stitched (gratefully my mother has an adequate inventory of beautiful saris) 

-Getting the blouses re-stitched because apparently my tailor sucks at his job

-Organising or being part of a great big bunch of loud girls at a bachelorette party (where I must mention, there were vuglar props and games, and we almost got kicked out of a club and got threatened to get arrested!)

-Doing a dance for mash-ups of Sheela Ki Jawaani and other Bolly songs that are driving people insane right now

-Drinking drinking drinking DRINKING. And then some more.

-Crying a little bit every time during each of the ceremonies (true story; why I'm so emo don't ask)

On that last note, I must tell you that this was a discovery for me about me- getting over-sentimental and crying happy tears at every wedding. This, from a girl, who till just a few years ago, staunchly believed that marriage is shit and that no ONE in their right minds should do it. I even had a very good, long, scripted debate prepared for every time someone asked me my opinion on the matter.

I still remember, just a couple of years ago, when I was living in the Other City, my mother called and mentioned it to me for the first time. 

'Baby, we should start collectiong saris for your wedding no?'

I had just entered my 20s and I was caught dumbfounded for a minute or ten.

'Are you mad ma?'

'No my darling. If we start collecting saris and jewellery and start saving up now, we can have a half decent wedding for you'

'Ma, you do know there has to be a member of the opposite sex who is willing to do this, right? I'm not seeing anyone right now.'

This is when she decided it was right moment to tell me about 'a very lovely boy' who someone had recommended.

Let me back track for a minute and tell you about my relationship with my parents. Very early in my teen years, I learned the trick to handling them/ training them.

Step 1: TELL them when you're doing something, don't ASK. Eg. I'm going for a drink with friends 

Step 2: Don't fuck up. Eg: Don't end up getting caught and spend the night in jail for drinking and driving

Step 3: Now that their trust and confidence in you has built up reasonably, repeat Step 1 and 2, but this time take it one level higher. Eg: Tell them you're moving in with your boyfriend. 

This way you have trained your parents to know that you are the master of your life and you are capable of living a decent life without their intervention. Slowly but surely, they will learn to let you go and let you fly.

Anyway, so as you can see, I have a great thing with my parents- I tell them what I want to do with my life, I do it right and they believe I'm not a fuck-up. When they disagree with me, they offer me advice, but if I convince them with logical reasons, they're okay with it (and it works both ways mind you- I let them convince me out of something if I'm sure it's not the right thing for me).

So you can understand my surprise when I heard my mother suggesting an arranged marriage meeting. I was wondering if I'd not been following the Train your Parents to Love Your Decisions rule book. Because you see, my folks know how I despise the thought of marriage, let alone a holy union arranged by the elders of the family. 

Despite my obvious bewilderment, she proceeded to tell me all about him. And believe it or not, the only thing I found interesting was the boy in question's MOTHER. Apparently she had been India's ambassador to several countries. My chaalu brain quickly started devising a quick strategy for befriending the wow mother (she sounded impressive, maybe she can help me with a cool job that allows me to travel too?), without ever meeting or talking to the son.

No brilliant plan came to mind, so I promptly asked my lovely mother to keep the lovely boy away from me. It was too early in my life to start having this argument. I didn't intend to ever get married. That's all.

....And then a few years later, I met Him (I refer to him on this blog as LOL- Love Of my Life).

And a month after I met him, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. I had never thought about when I die or how I aged until I met LOL. All of a sudden I found myself hoping I lived a long life because if this is how gorgeous life got when he was in it, I never wanted it to end.

Slowly I started thinking about what it might be like to publicly declare this aforementioned feeling. Because you see, I wanted to shout it from the mountains. I was in mad, mad in love. And it dawned on me that that was what a wedding was for.

And that's how my dear friends, I have come to become this girl that gets sentimental and cries at my friends' weddings. Apparently I've now warmed up to the concept. Hell, I even look forward to my own shaadi- the dress, the rings, the band-baaja, et al. :)

PS: Will you please please pray that I'll be allowed to have a beach wedding?

Is there a place called Heaven?

Is there a place called heaven?

The place of the good and the saints,

Where people float around

In halos and flowing spotless robes?

A kingdom where artificial light

Is unnecessary,

Where telephone connections

Are a joke?

A place where cable TV

Is really a huge window

Into the the world we live in,

With you and me playing the lead

On reality shows?

A place where souls rest in peace

And float about on clouds…

Or are there any clouds in heaven?

And what of hell then?

Are there people living

Amongst fire and hot coal?

Churning and burning

In the heat of the

Damned place…

Or is it a long lasting party there?

Dressed in the red and black theme

With horns as accessories,

And a drink in one hand?

And is there an in-between?

Filled with people

Whose souls are forever forgotten

Suffering the worst punishment prescribed…

These are questions

Asked several times

In a lifetime

And seldom answered.

And when that lifetime is over

Your bell has rung

Your questions are answered.

Finally.

At a time when the answers will seem

Absolutely meaningless.

An Ode to the Ex.

Remember Me?
The girl you played with?
Sometimes House
Sometimes Doctor-Doctor?

Remember Us?

That impulsive kiss

High up on that wooden branch

The day we climbed the Big Tree.

Remember Me?

You used to lie on my lap underneath a starry sky

Ask me questions about the world

That I didn't have the answers to.

Remember Us?

The way we grew up together

They way we left town for the big city

Three hundred rupees in our bags?

Remember Me?

I made my first omelette for you

Cut my finger 

Cried and wanted to go back home.

Remember Us?

You wiped my childish tears

And said we'd hold hands all our lives

And watch every sunset together.

Remember Me?

The tears on my face

Our painful embrace
When we realised it was over...

Remember Us?

Our dreams and your promises

Shattering into a thousand tiny fragments...

Halting as they fell.

Remember Me?

Now that you're walking past me

Across the road 

Not even glancing at me...

We were Us
Eleven years ago.

Remember Me?

Remember Us?

(Wannabe) 18 till die.

Recently I've been thinking about getting older and here are the top two likes and dislikes about it:

(I'm starting with Dislikes because that's what I'm leaning towards with the topic)

DISLIKES

1. You're getting older. There is not a whole lot to like about the concept. You're no longer in the media's 'young people' age bracket. Data collected from your demographic is no longer used to make Pepsi/ Levis ads; it is used to make ads for Real Estate/Cars/Diapers for your babies. 

As if that's not depressing enough, you have to start thinking about money and investments-- and the dreaded word- SAVINGS (tum dum DUMMMMM...).

With everything you do, you have to 'think about your future' and find the right husband/wife, have the beautiful wedding and the gorgeous babies and then...? Well, you basically gotta continue to keep thinking about the  future. And there is nothing appealing about this 'thinking about the future' thing. 

Besides that, there is slower metabolism, greying hair, lots of wrinkles...nothing that tempts you to get older any time soon.

2. As you get older, your parents get older. If you thought they were insane during your teen years, wait till you find out what it's like when THEY get older. They're the insanes' insane. It can go one of two ways: 

a. They will act like they are actually 18, which means your life is spent begging them to stop fussing, eat right- no sweets please!, cross the road carefully...etc. OR

b. They will act as if they are twice their age. For example. If they're 60, they'll act as if they're actually 120 and have been ready to kick the bucket for the last 2 decades. One will often hear them make over-dramatic statements like, Oh, you know I'm so old now, My life is over, Sigh, sigh, sigh (so much sighing)...

In both cases, it's not pretty.

But either ways, the worst thing is the reality of it all- They ARE getting older. They WILL get sicker and whether you like or not, they WILL have to move on one day.

And whether they're childlike or acting senile, we still want them around. Most of us never want to deal with not having our parents around. I mean, they're the MOM and DAD.


Just for this...it makes me want to stop time...

Anyway, moving on...

LIKES

1.

OK, I give up. There are None.

I want, I want, I want. What I want.

They say the terribleness of the Terrible Teen Years mainly comes out of the enormous amount of peer pressure one is exposed to. I've always wondered that was about. While I might have (unknowingly) been the one to create the pressure, I certainty have had no trouble of my own whatsoever with peer pressure when I was teenager. I did what I wanted to, when I wanted to and how I wanted to. There was hardly a time I worried myself about whether I was 'doing well' or if I 'fit in'.

Until now.

Looks like I'm a late bloomer when it comes to this. Over the last year or so, peer pressure has slowly crept into my life and how! I seem to have worked myself into becoming a pressure cooker.

All of a sudden people my age are doing so many things that it feels like I should be doing them too...Someone is doing an MBA at Harvard, someone is buying a house, someone is studying Anthropology at LSE, someone is going to art school, someone is doing up their house, someone has a fancy job, someone is getting married, someone is having babies...All of a sudden I find myself wanting every one of these things 'someone' is doing. And I seem to want them all NOW. 

I find myself looking around me and aspiring for things I don't even have any need for! It's greedy. It's a waste of time. And it's surely a damn waste of mind space.

If only I could buy a house... If only I could earn X amount of money... If only I had the money or the time to do an MBA...I'd be SO set....

I get so caught up and stressed out about what I 'should be doing' that I find myself sometimes having crying spells or sleepless nights over it.

Then there is a moment of revelation (like right now!)... that moment when it feels like someone shook me out of a nightmare and I am now seeing things clearly... I don't even want to do an MBA damnit! I hate maths, stats and everything from that family. Since when did I start wishing for things in my life that I don't really actually want at all, much less need?

I'm much too young and life is far too short (always in retrospect, since youth seems to be lost on the young!) for me to be bound by what ifs and if onlys.

How does it matter where anyone else is going? It only matters where I want to go. Even if its just for now. What's the rush?

I might not know exactly what I want for my life. But I do know this-- I don't wan to get stressed out about whether I'm living the 'right way', about whether I'm making the 'right moves'. 

I want peace of mind.

I want balance in my life.

I want to travel lots, eat gorgeous food and meet strange people.

I want to speak a million languages.

I want an ocean of love and I want to love right back.

I want to read things that astonish me, I want to write things that astonish others.

I want to take my own time. I want to say my own 'ready, set, go!'

I want to be 80 and still be amazed when I see a rainbow.

I want Life to be a great movie that I just don't want to get to the end of.

Most importantly, I always want to remember who I am and what I want.