Reliving Realities

Perhaps I was born at the right time or I was lucky enough to have stayed in 100% real places for most of my childhood holidays. Yes, my maternal grandparents stayed at the smallest of villages in North India, and I would look forward to spending my vacations there.

I was from Calcutta, a big city, with not much open spaces and though there are a lot many parks, they don't have trees with mangoes or litchis hanging on them!!

My grandparents lived in a sprawling if not very grand, house with a shed for cows and goats for milk. Some of my cousins and my sister sat around the milk giving cow and opened their mouths for the milkman who pulled at the udder and directed the flow towards them who relished the warm milk, much to my chagrin!! A coop full of cocks and hens for eggs and a back orchard for all kinds of trees from jackfruit, litchis, falsa, guava and not to forget the mango trees. Usually we were joined by other cousins for the vacations and we had a field time climbing on the trees of whichever fruit we wanted to eat and racing to the top to see who climbed the highest!

playing with the goat kid in the orchard.

During summer vacations the day started at the crack of dawn and the crowing of the cocks which seemed to go on crowing like an alarm bell refusing to stop. Grandpa wouldn't let us sleep and nudge all of us out of bed. We would straight away go into the orchard and start to play and climb and swing on branches which were low enough for us to sit. Sometimes we went beyond the orchard into the fields and trample on the sown soft earth (for which we would be admonished later on). I even ploughed the ground once and did the mud feel like velvety carpet? There is so much activity in the ploughing to sowing that each muscle is exercised and toned!

mango laden tree

I have to say that there are special ways to get to the highest ripe mango. Either risk your life and climb to the top without falling off or take this, a curved blade tied at the end of a long stick with which the mango is cut from its branch and it falls down. The third makes you quite a marksman, you aim at the mango and throw a stone to shake it off!! The mangoes ooze a fluid when it falls fresh from the tree, so we kept a bucketful of water and dropped those mangoes in it. When there was enough for everybody and the bucket was full, we would sit down to peel it and not with a knife but with a special peeler which was also 100% natural and made from a seashell. (wish I had one of them to show). The taste and smell of the mangoes is something I can never get even from the best alphonso mangoes!

There was a special guava tree. There was two things which made it special, first, it was our neighbours and secondly it had no seed!! Have you eaten a seedless guava? I have yet to buy one from the market. It was tasty as hell and we had to sneak and steal and run for our dear lives for the neighbour was a typical thief hater even if they were little children!!!

earthern stove

We only went back inside the house to eat our meals and get ready and be back in the orchard as soon as we finished. The house itself had small rooms and there was open space called aangan in the middle and a big kitchen beyond where women helpers came to assist in the cooking. Two or three of them would sit with a mill (hand grinder) to ground the wheat into flour. Curious that I was and wanting to try them all, I also tried my hands in grounding the wheat. Watching them change from grain to powder somehow seemed like magic to my young eyes. There was always two women grinding the spices together. And if you all think that the cooking was as easy as clicking a lighter on a gas stove then you have to get your imaginations to work again. There was an earthen kiln with 3 holes on top of different sizes. There was an opening in the front from where we stuffed the dried branches of fallen trees (this was yet again stored in a hut behind the house) which had to be fired with so much huffing and puffing till your lungs had all the exercises it needed in a day!! But it was fun and somehow the food cooked on it was the best and most delicious I have ever had in my entire life!!

handpump

There was no tap, only a hand pump. So, when I really had to rush to the toilet (and considering the amount of mangoes I ate, there was always a rush), pumping the water made the rush into a power rush and god helped if the only toilet was occupied. I had no option but to go to the fields and hide behind a tree and relieve myself!! Last year I had gone on a road trip with my kids there was a tyre puncture and we were not close to civilisation. I got the urge and I promptly went behind a tree with a bottle of mineral water and relieved myself. My kids were aghast!! Oh! they don't know what they have missed while growing up!

train just yonder the fields :)

Did I forget to mention the train tracks? Well, they were just beyond the fields and we laid 5 paise and 10 paise coins on the tracks and wait for the train to come. The train flattened the little aluminium coins and once I repeatedly put my 5 paise till it was absolutely flat as a blade and bigger than the old 20 paise. Interestingly we were quite small, with all of us not even teenagers, yet we were never stopped much and we could go and roam about the entire village. Playing hide and seek was never so much fun and I have even hidden inside the haystacks which is so perfect for this game. We had real mud to knead and make stuff out of it unlike the toxic clays of today! We made round balls and dried them in the sun and later used them as missiles to strike our cousins, which was so much fun!

 I forgot to say there was lots of insects and flies which came out in the dark and I especially couldn't no matter what sleep with them buzzing around me. So it came upon me to burn the dried cow dung which gave out thick smoke to ward the flies away.

rope bed

Could I have had a better relation with nature had I been to exotic locales each vacation? I think not, I cant say how much I miss those vacations. Although when I returned I was burnt black and my paternal uncles teased me for days on end that I lose my complexion whenever I come back from the village and that it was no fun to go. There is nobody who lives there and all maternal uncles have moved to cities and the house is almost beyond use. We cousins have plans to go back and relive some of our moments again with our kids to show them where we spent our vacations, but it hasn't materialised yet. Maybe some day I will.... I miss my village too much.


Pictures from here (mango tree), here (earthern stove), here (hand pump) and here (ropebed).

This post was written for The Kissan 100% real blogger contest at Indiblogger.

The real princess

As a girl, I was always dreaming of my prince.
There were many of them, in stories of Rapunzel, in the sleeping beauty, in the Snow White, in Cindrella.
However, there was one princess I was in love with.

She was as mentioned in the book, a real princess.
She had come knocking one day to the castle of the prince who was looking for a real princess. She announced as she came in very nonchalantly that she was a real princess. The queen decided to give her a test and made her a bed of almost 40 mattresses with a pea under the first few mattress. Sure enough the princess could not sleep the whole night and was black and blue all over.

I couldn't take my mind of her. I don't know why, but I had fallen in love with such a delicate creature. I was so tomboyish in my earlier years that even I felt my heart warming up to her. My mind and heart was in turmoil. Is that what a man likes in a woman? A delicate woman? A woman who is like an expensive porcelain? I don't know really, but if I was a real man, I think I would want such a creature to be my princess!

So I err, well, I decided that was what I was too. I flung my tomboyishness to the winds and now all I wanted was to be as sweet and delicate and pretty (she was so pretty in pictures) just like the real princess. I don't know if I became as delicate as her. All I know is to this day, my bed mattress can never be hard (even if doctors seem to suggest that a hard surface is better to sleep in) and the linen should be of the very fine material and very soft. I have conditioned my mind to think I am delicate and I can't sleep without a nice and cosy and soft and clean without even a dot of dirt bed!

Picture from here

To hell with heaven!

Whats in heaven for women anyways?
I have heard them saying.. heaven is full of overflowing rivers of milk, honey and wine!!
And of course hoooors and apsaras (beautiful women)!!

Now what do I get?
milk? I stopped drinking it even before my milk teeth fell!!
honey? a spoonful is ok, but rivers??
wine? tasted it and cant say it really turn me on!!
beautiful women?? eeeeks !! I am no lesbian!! (sorry to lesbians)

To top it all the men who make it to heaven, the dull slow and boring types?? Get the point?
Whats life(even after death) without someone interesting?

With no offense to Ram, because I am no Sita! I am in love with Ravan
I have tried I swear, but I have never identified with Sita ever.
And these serials nowadays depicting Sita in every daughter in law and a Kaykeyi in every mother in law, greatly pisses me off. Even the filmmakers seem to be smitten by Ravan and all top notch actors only want to do a Ravan. Can I help it if I am in love?

I have decided, heaven is not for me, so to hell with heaven!!

Picture from here

Loafer

My Sir called me a loafer and guess what?
I am one.

I remember when he arrived to teach me, I used to get terribly upset.
Seeing him at the door turned me off. The smarta.. that I was, I would pout and make a huge fuss about him coming at the wrong day and time. He usually had no fixed time to come and teach. If he wanted,he could even come on a Sunday.
Being a disciplinarian with regards to time management, (loafers are beeg time managers, they just know what they need time for) I had self banned studies on a Sunday. He on the other hand, made it a point to arrive on a Sunday, and No, he didn't come in the mornings, he usually came to spoil my evenings!! urrghh!
He would plead me to do just one problem and promised me he would go after I did it. Obviously he picked out the toughest which took me more than an hour to solve!!

He always spoiled my Sunday outing plans and I got pissed. He said I was a loafer to be wanting to go out each and every Sunday. He taught me till the day I gave my boards, and then he taught my brother.
Once while visiting my parents, I needed the car which my brother had taken with him as he was taking tuitions from Sir. I called my brother and asked him to get the car. Sir asked him what it was I wanted. When my brother said, didi wants the car, he said, she is still a Loafer!!! :O She must be needing the car to to go out and loaf around!!!!

hmm impressing impression!!

Picture from here

My lost time

I hate people who ask for a second and take mins and hours and sometimes days!

My good friend especially has no idea what 1 second is all about. Despite my regular efforts to ask him to change his seconds to hours, he still asks for one sec (whatever that means)!!

My husband is as silly as my friend or vice versa!!
He is somewhere miles away and when I ask him what time would he reach home. He always has one answer, 5 mins!

Earlier it was like hell waiting for that SINGLE ONE SECOND to pass, now I simply say Bye, as soon as I hear the dreaded one sec!
Same for my husband, Earlier I used to panic and get ready for him in just under 5 mins and wait for an hour for him to reach, sometimes he just came so late we had to cancel wherever we planned to go or do anything!!
Now, I simply don't expect him to come home in 5 mins or an hour. I simply start getting ready only when I hear the car horns at the gate. After all I can get ready in 5 mins flat, all those practice has not gone to waste!!

Picture from here

drive woman!

The other day while driving my husband lost control of his car. The road was a bit wet and slippery and we just about missed having an accident!!

My husband gave me an apologetic look and I smiled back and said, "its okay, you are allowed these mistakes!" As long as there was no accident or harm done, no need to change seats!!

Now I told him, if it was me who had been driving and skidded over, but not caused any harm, my husband would have immediately blamed the whole of women folks.. "oh you women don't know how to drive at all, which idiot gave you the license? blah blah blah!!
Stop the car right now and get off the driver's seat right now, all the time screaming and giving angry looks!!

It used to happen a lot when I started driving, people always jeered at me. Some policemen just stopped me even for no fault of mine. Taxi drivers yelled when they passed me. Once I got so instigated with another taxi driver because he made a remark as he passed me that I raced after him, overtook him and barked #$@#$#$@# back at him. I still remember the look he had on his face!!

Nobody gets away with me!!

That song is quite apt from the film "Ready, main karoon tho saala character dheela hai!" :P

Picture from here and here

Greedy unlimited!!

I was a greedy girl.. Always greedy for more.. and not just more, it had to be more than everyone else!!

During my childhood times, a Sunday escapade would mean either an outing to the Victoria maidan, Outram ghat or infrequently to eat at a south indian or chinese restaurant. Rarely did we go to the theatres. Movie going was such a hassle, booking tickets beforehand or pay in black, the amount often double the printed value.

I for one would never miss an opportunity to go out, unlike my sister who preferred to stay at home with our granny. I loved icecreams and when the icecream wala came I promptly had one for myself and gobbled it up even before my parents and sister had decided for themselves! Of course, I did this for a reason.. so that I culd have another and I did always have two because papa couldn't see me looking at him like a dog with its tongue hanging out while he ate his ice cream!!

The same goes for everything else in life.. Yeh dil maange more ( and not just more, more than the rest!! ) :P

Picture from here

daunting daughter!!

The other day my father in law was telling me that I should start to care for my daughter's looks
Make her wash her face as many times in a day and that will make her look fairer!

He insisted that only fair girls were likely to get a good groom for herself. I was listening to all this and said nothing. My daughter was right there and after he had finished with his sermons, she whispered to me, "mom, do people even "now" look for "fair" skin girls?

Cant say, if I got an answer to her question as well!!
Time will tell!!

Recently she has been asking me strange questions and giving me snappy answers, stirring inside me thoughts about my own childhood and was I as mature as she is at the same age??

A friend of mine who is a mother of 2 grown up daughters tells me that her daughters hate her to come online and on facebook, they tell her to act her age, go and pray and always remain in the service of God!!
She warns me to beware of my daughter who will soon be a grown up and hate my coming online and doing anything which is unconventional for a typical housewife!

She has already told me on the sly that I should be more like her nani, (my mother)  the epitome of the sacrificing and ever genteeel  mothers of the 80's!!

bhaag shazia bhaag

One of these days, I will simply run away!
I have a deep desire to just leave everything, wipe my footprints and get lost.

The day my desire is backed by stronger emotions and ability to run away, I will.
The demon inside me is always instigating me to run away.

I am trying hard to control it, but I may lose one of these days.
Till then, my friends, enjoy or bear my presence!!

Thou You U

I was wondering today that when there were less machines and more work people had time to talk in leisure and they used less slang and more courtesies!!
Not only talk but spell with all proper spellings and use proper grammar!
This is true for all languages. Since I write in English the title is the hint as to what I am trying to say here.

Strange, all things look kinda mixed up and smaller and shorter, what with mixed languages like hinglish and urdu which is a mixture of persian and hindi.

People marrying cross country inter religion international!
In a way its good.. no more boundaries in future perhaps.
Maybe one day all languages will converge to form one language, like the new sms lang and internet emotes, youngsters have a knack of it.

Then we wont have war at least!! :)
As optimistic as I am, I started to write a post on degrading of languages and ended up seeing the brighter side of things!! Keeping myself surprised as usual. :)

Why don't I feel old?

I still feel like I am young.
My daughter is a constant reminder that I have grown old and I should act so.
I tell myself while I gaze into the mirror, " you are old now, so you better behave as one."

I thought of my parents when I was my daughter's age who has stepped into teenage, They looked so old to me, and I must be as old as them. But heck! why the damn don't I feel old?

As much as I loved my birthdays and wanted them to come twice or thrice in a year, now I really wish they came once in a leap year!
Its not that I hide my age like most women, but I genuinely don't want to grow up!

Each day steals away my time, my age, and leaves me helpless..
Its not that I am really scared of death though I wouldn't want to die yet!
But that doesn't mean I want to be very old and die.

Why cant people live their age while still at least looking young? I'd hate to look wrinkled and scary all the time feeling young inside. I think none of us never really grow up. Its only the physical aspect which grows old, the mind is forever young! No? :)

Chashme buddoor

When I was in class 10, I really studied like I never studied before, and I hoped that the long hours of strenuous exercise of staring into my books would earn me a cooool CHASHMA! (power glasses to show off my studious self) !!! :P
I complained of eye pain and imagined letters blurring and narrowed my eyes frequently to give myself the illusion that my eyes were definitely weakening now! I even strained my eyes by staring so much and rarely blinking that it brought tears to my eyes and reddened them.

My mom at last convinced that I wasn't pretending about my eyes, took me to the eye specialist.
The doctor checked my eyes and then put some drops in my eyes.
Soon, my vision blurred, and I couldn't see anything in front of me, and then I was secretly ecstatic.. wowowow i would be getting glasses now!!
What I did not know was that those drops was just to enlarge the pupils so that the doctor could have a better view of the insides of my eyes.

The doctor then checked my eyes and then made me wear several glasses and asked me to read letters big and the smallest on the wall!!
I rattled off the big letters and deliberately slowed down more than was necessary to read the fine print..but read them all almost effortlessly.
The doctor then pronounced my eyes as sharp as an eagle. He gave me no more drops and said that I should give breaks in between studies and wash eyes if it reddened, otherwise I was completely fit and fine!

I think I studied quite hard, meaning as hard as hard means to me. So then what did the others read so much that they looked so studious with their thick glasses! I still dont wear chashma though now I own one .25 powered glasses just to wear it sometimes to show how serious types I really am ! :P

Disclaimer: the title is the name of the film and it is only used for the sole purpose of getting more traffic.

Picture from here

Scribbling

As every other child, I loved scribbling.
No, not on paper, but on walls!!

When nobody was watching I would make a dash for the wall and start writing/drawing/scribbling..whatever!
But, I always got caught and punished each time.
Slowly I gave up the habit for fear of punishments. :(

But I didn't do it anymore didn't mean I didn't have the urges to do it anymore.
Once papa announced that the painters would be coming the next day and the house was going to get painted.
I instantly found my urges calling again!

I would scribble and scribble and scribble and this time since the walls was going to get painted, no one would even punish me. So I took out my crayons and wrote and drew and what not!
I knew it wasn't just me who loved doing it and so I called up my cousins who lived close by and invited them to the first ever of its kind scribble party. And were they delighted? Well, we all squealed and scribbled with all our might. Soon it became a kind of competition, about who scribbled best?

Who wrote the most? Who drew the largest?
In short who made the wall most dirty?
Soon, the all the walls were full of crayon marks and we did not even leave the ceiling. We got up on stools and ladders and completed the job!

Phew! it was fun and that day all my urges were satiated!
The painters who came to paint the next day was horrified to find such walls and boy they had a tough time (a week approx) cleaning the walls and scraping off the crayon before they could paint it. :P

I still wish to have a scribbled wall which is never painted so that I can just look at the wall and go back in time!!
picture from here

I LOVE YOU

Somehow I hated movies where the heroine always succumbed to the hero's charms and fell for him lock stock and barrel. Sometimes the hero saved her from gangsters or an evil family member etc.
I was irritated by their behaviour. There are people who sometimes help during emergencies, it is done by anyone who would be present there.. but why the hell do you have to fall in love with that guy??

I wished there was a movie or a story where the heroine never says YES til the last scene! Phew!
The movie came and though it bombed at the box office, I loved it.
It was an Amir Madhuri starer called "Deewana Mujh Sa Nahin.

I have done the same, my love stories ended where and when they all proposed!
The moment, they said I love you, I lost all interest in them.
I don't know why? but I found no thrill and desire left to love back.
Come to think of it, the saying of I love you was the death knell of the relationship!

I still don't believe in love. More than love itself, I hate the proclaiming of it!
If you really loved, do you need to say it?
Isn't love a feeling to be felt? and not heard?

"If you love me, I will know it." Shazia


Picture from here

Stealing?

I was 6 when I first tried to steal.
It was in picturesque Kashmir, where I lost my moral virginity.
We were floating on the Dal Lake and along came another boat laden with silver jewellery and artifacts.
I took a payal (silver anklet) and was busy putting it around my ankle for fit and look. When I looked up, the boat shop had left us and apparently my parents had not wanted to buy anything.

I had mixed feelings.. Should I tell or just keep it?
For the moment I decided to keep it. After all, it was the shopkeepers mistake he didn't take his ware back when he turned his boat shop. I don't think papa or mommy would have bought it for me, in any case.
Maybe it was destined to be with me.

I kept thinking and justifying the reason for it to be with me.
Was I a thief now? Naah, I didn't deliberately steal it.

After a lot of inner turmoil, I finally gave in to my conscience. I tugged at my mom and held out my open palm with the payal in it. She was shocked and admonished me for keeping it with me all this while.. She immediately told papa and he instructed the boatman to start a search for the mobile boatshop.
Luckily we found him pretty fast and the payal was returned to him.

I have never forgotten this incident..somehow!!

Picture from here

Only look old.

Its so strange but we realize we are also getting older by comparing people of our age.
As long as we compare the actresses of the same age as us.. we think we are young by their standards... Aishwarya doesn't look 38.. No Ways.. and I am younger than her.

But, during my last visit to my parents place.. I met my old friends.. some friends I met after almost 17 years and God! have they grown old??!! I cant believe it.
Its been quite a catch up of what happened after we went our ways.. the ups and downs the struggles and smiles..

All these years my mind recollected only the image which was stored when I last met them.. and it was a much younger image than what I saw, when I met them last month.
But, in our hearts we might have never grown because we felt the same as we felt then..
Sure we are parents now.. but meeting with them revived childhood memories which was so refreshing, we felt we were kids again!

Friday prayers

My seven year old nephew is very God fearing and is ready before noon to offer his friday prayers.

Today being a friday, he had a special wish to ask from God!

He was seen earnestly praying and offering his salaat.

When I asked what was it he was asking Allah.

He replied, " Allah and Satan fought and Allah won. So Allah has locked Satan in the bathroom."
So he said he was asking Allah to please take out Satan from the bathroom and lock him elsewhere because it has become very difficult for him to go to the bathroom even during the daytime And he is so scared that Satan may hurt him inside the bathroom.

Amazing wishes of the kids!

Picture from here

Title

I still use my maiden name.
My father asked me if I would change my title to that of my husband's name after marriage.
I was very clear about it. I would never change surname and I gave a valid reason.

"Husbands can come and go but there will never be another father."

Of course going by the same reason, what if my mom married someone else? Wouldn't I have another father?
Was I right in giving such an answer? What made me think my parents had no right to marry again while I thought I had all the rights to do the same?

Strange what we think of others and what we can think of ourselves!!

Picture from here

Scared and Shy

Last week, my broker buzzed me.

He asked me why wasn't I trading. (I used to be that fool in wall street who thought that one had to trade everyday.) Well, I learnt the hard way, and when I learn a lesson, I am particular not to learn it again.
So, I told him, I am in the learning stage and my baby is giving me good company right now.
He insisted that I still trade in small quantities. So I blurted out the bitter truth. I told him, I was scared to touch stocks now. He wouldn't believe it. He said," You and scared, I don't believe this!"

Now was that a compliment?

Next there was a call from a friend, who was a friend of uh hmm a close friend.
Well, he said that the close friend would like to reconnect and he gave me his mobile number.
I said that I could no longer talk to him, and both of us are married and this was wrong.
He was insistent and said that, its okay, just get updated and have a casual talk.
And then I had to tell him the truth, I told him I was shy and I couldn't do that.
Guess what? he wouldn't believe it. He said, " You and shy, I don't believe this!!"

Now what was that again?

Picture from here

What does real beauty mean to you?

Big eyes.

Slim figure.
Fair and tall
Nice smile
That is real beauty?


As a child, fairy tales enchanted me and I looked forward to my prince charming. But Prince Charming would not settle for a vain and naughty girl, so I studied the princesses the prince liked.. and made them my ideal. There was a story of “The princess and the pea.” This story had a real princess who was very beautiful and so so delicate that even 20 mattresses couldn't stop the pea underneath them to bother the princess.

That for me was real beauty..

In my own house, the princess took the shape of my very beautiful mommy, she has a heart of gold, not so delicate with all the housework and taking care of us, a little tough but beautiful to my eyes.
When I was in standard 1 and I got to make sentences for the word “beautiful,” I always wrote.. “ my mommy is so beautiful!”

That was real beauty to me.

As I grew older and stepping into the threshold of teenage, and more exposed to the world, I discovered films and the heroines who looked really beautiful and I wished I was like any of them! Wished I had the smile of Madhuri, the figure of Zeenat, the spontaneity of Juhi and so on.
That for me was real beauty.

Then I got married and on my wedding day, I thought I really looked nice.. and splendid with all eyes only for me and people fussing over me all the time..I felt on top of the world and so happy!

That for me was real beauty.

My first born was a girl and I asked everyone,“have you seen a more cuter baby than mine?” I was ecstatic, and so happy I could make such a beautiful baby.

My babies are my real beauty.

Being a very hyper and a moody girl, I had some turbulent times, during the beginning of marriage. Times when I thought I should give it all up, but thank god my husband never listened to me when I said, “ leave me alone!” he never left me!

That for me was real beauty.

I have a few nice friends, they sometimes unknowingly make my day, by sharing with me their thoughts. Men and women who take me as I am and bring on cheer to me and boost my morale.
That for me is real beauty!


I find that intelligence and gentle behavior is the necessary ingredient for real beauty. While beauty is important to a woman, strength of character makes a man more attractive.
A woman who is pretty but not sweet natured is a turn off, just like an expensive thing which can be bought only because of conspicuous demand, but apart from show off, it has no intrinsic value to it.
If you are beautiful, you have a passport, but if you don't behave well, you don't get visa to visit.


It is intelligence which gives tact to your actions and reactions. But intelligence without sweetness is also a turn off. Its like a machine who works only with logic and no human feelings. Only logic will drain you of life.
If you have beauty and intelligence, you can be an apple pad or any machine, but not human!


As time passes, I grow older and wiser, the meaning of real beauty metamorphosed from an external to an internal one. Sure the outside beauty is very appealing to the eyes, but our other senses want more.
"A thing of beauty is joy forever." by John Keats. How do you get joy? Joy should not be only for you. Give and get joy!
It is a combination of outer physical and inner mental beauty which can only be really beautiful.
I must mention that, the inner beauty in the long run outweighs the importance of physical beauty which in any case fades away.

Real beauty is one where all senses unify and say together, along with the heart and mind.. 
that is real beauty!

Readers can read more at http://realbeauty.yahoo.com/