A new beginning

And the deed is done.

For the last 7 years, my blog had been my identity. I never wanted to name my blog anything but my name. I was open to sharing my opinions with the world. I was never ashamed of what I wrote here and I was more than proud to share my blog with the rest of the world. I had been proud of being honest in my actions and deeds. I don't see why I should hide away and walk. But apparently, if you try standing alone, you will only be left alone. Walk with the crowd and you turn invisible.

And today, at this crossroad in my life, my blog , like me, has to be go anonymous. Inspite of all my big words and claims, I succumb to the pressure of the external society and let my thoughts go unheard and invisible. I hope a lot of world peace is achieved with this action of mine. Because if not, somebody is going to pay for this !

I am doing this only due to the unrelenting pressure on me from every side.Oh ! If only writing wasn't my first love, I wouldn't have hesitated even a second before deleting this blog out and going on with my life. Sadly this is the first and only love I have in this world. Giving it up would kill me more than having given up my life and future.

So to everyone who had read my blog as 'deepthi' so far.. I am just 'anonymous' moving forward. And if any of you happen to stumble across this new blog link, please post a comment on how you got here ! I would love to hear from you ;) !

And oh..so as a result, I am supposed to take down my photo too. Honestly I don't see what I have written here that has irked some part of this society so much, but to ensure continued sustainability and in the interest of common happiness, that deed is done too. My picture in blogspot comes down too.

Hopefully... a new beginning......

Edited note: May 26'th 2013 - The link is back again.I just couldn't resist it. I am no invisibilitycharm or anonymous. It's back to what it should be deepthirajagopal.blogspot.com and that's what it will be. If this causes world war 3..big deal !! All I can say is 'I don't care !

Dead or Divorced

I thought ‘Death’ meant the end of life as we know it. But apparently there is one more ‘D’ letter word which also technically denotes the end of life – ‘Divorce’.

            - Oh my god ! She is divorced and still on Facebook?

            -  Oh dear lord ! She is listening to music and raving about it?

            - She is still blogging?

            - She is still working and going out where people gather?

            - Why is she dressing up?

            - Why does she have a smile on her face?

This is just a sample of what comes your way if you are out of a marriage.

 Well, excuse me my dear ignorant human beings. But when someone gets a divorce, technically, they don’t slash off their eyes, ears or limbs. They pretty much still let us go out as the people we walked in. So I am still alive, breathing and very much capable of seeing, hearing, understanding and sometimes even participating in what goes on around me.

Just because my marriage didn't work out, don’t make me an outcast. I am still the same breathing walking talking person that I used to be. Probably a bit more wiser and maybe heartbroken too, but still the same person.

It takes two to make or break a marriage. Why is the girl always the scapegoat?

A 5 year old is raped, it’s the girl’s fault.

A marriage breaks, it’s the girl’s fault.

For heaven’s sake, give me a break ! 

If you cannot stand my updates on Facebook, get yourself knocked out of my list. I have absolutely no complaints. In fact I couldn't be more thankful !

I have a life and I have people who care for me and are worried about me and want to see me happy. I intend to live for them. It’s the least I can do.  I cannot live my life in a shell.

So, one marriage dint work out. For someone like me who believed that, to be married and settled is the ultimate aim in life, this was a huge eye opener. No. Life doesn't end with a marriage nor does it end with the termination of one. For people who find this concept preposterous, please feel free to borrow my shoes and walk in them. If you can get as far as I have, you have my respect and you have every right to judge me. But if you don’t, then shut your freaking mouth and stay away from me.

It is not easy being a single girl working away from family and dear ones. And now not possible all the more so, cause I don’t have a husband. Do you know what all goes into maintaining a home? Do you know how increasingly difficult it is to achieve all these despite being a girl? Do you even remotely understand how important and necessary it is for a girl to maintain her dignity and self respect and yet still have a social face and life? Do you know what it is like to be living a life where you are judged, scorned and looked down upon at every single day?

 If you have the answers to any of these questions, well then I guess you should have a fair idea of where I am coming from.

I am human.  Once was a mistake, but don’t judge me because of it. I will never regret or apologize for what happened. I will also never stand being taken for granted. I was never a feminist. Don’t make me one. 

I still believe there are a few good men out there and I respect them for the wonderful job they are doing in taking care of the women in their life. And yes, I envy those women too. I will be honest about it. But there is absolutely nothing I can do about it.

I have no idea what the message of this post of mine is. But it’s just a vent of my frustration at this point.

I just need the right to live, like every other regular girl on the face of this earth.. with a smile on my face and a tomorrow to look forward to.  Don’t come around ruining it for me. If you cannot help me, so be it. Don’t pull me down. Just let me be.

Declutter

You cant live in the past.

because no matter how tightly you hold on

...............its already gone !

The unframed frames

It's only going to sting a little bit and then its all good - said the doctor to me. I believed him. After all, I have always hated getting shots and every bit of consoling helps. But the doctor always lied to me. It stings not just a bit, but a lot. The sight of the blood oozing into the syringe dazes me and I am always left numb and throbbing.

The attorney also told me the same thing - it's going to hurt only a little bit, and it will all be over soon. He was lying too.

It's been so many days, weeks, months now. But the pain hasn't numbed at all. It's not the pain of what is lost. It's the fear of what's in store which hurts. The loneliness, the agony, the humiliation, the clarifications, the explanations - these are what hurts. The few good memories that were there are cast away by the misery which engulfs now.

I have been through this road before, a few years ago. When there was less at stake to lose and the hurt was probably lesser. But little did I know that it would catch up to me so very soon. The psych tells me to keep a journal to lessen my anxiety. My journal, which the world scrutinizes for every aspect of my life. Little does he know that it would only increase my anxiety more. But I decide to venture a risk nevertheless. After all, when all is lost, what's there to fear.

So now, I stand by to pick up the remnants of a life that never was and clear the debris away. The question is not 'Why'. It's 'Why me?'

As I smash the perfect frame which I had gifted myself to put in the perfect picture and watch it crumble to bits, I feel a relief I haven't felt in ages. Letting go was the easy and the wise part. Living on is the scary and difficult truth. It's not a 'You & Me', not a 'We' either. It's simply a plain 'I'.. today and tomorrow.


For the first time in my life, I hunt for a new motto to embrace.

'Smile like you have never cried
Fight like you have never lost
Love like you have never been hurt
Live like there's no tomorrow '..  easier said than done !

The elastic heart

For some weird reason, this had been a title stuck in my head for a very long time and I found it quite catchy. For the past couple of years,I have been toying with the idea of trying to come up with a nice post to go for it. And today I see the irony of it.

Elastic: As per the definition we are all familiar with, isn't it something which goes back to its original state even though it has been contracted, dilated or distorted? Well, Apparently not.


As 2 strangers we met
2 strangers we part.
Some journeys last a lifetime
Some take a lifetime away.
                                        - - - Deepthi

Dreams of the past

It was in the middle of the crowded platform that I first laid my eyes on him. For the first time again, after 10 long years.

Nothing about him had changed. He still wore his hair messy. His T-shirt was still as colorful as the 20 yr old used to wear. His smile still went all the way to his eyes.

I was amazed at how much I could still remember of him, of us, like it was all just yesterday. My heart still skipped a beat, even today.

We had been lovers...still are. We never broke up. We just broke apart.

When the fun filled college romance days got over, we each went our ways to make a place for ourselves in this big world. But we were still in the same town, under the same roof, living as one, until he went abroad for a long term assignment.  Little did we know that the long term was going to be 10 long years. We never said goodbye.

I know what his favorite food is. I know what he looks like waking up in the morning. I love his husky morning voice. I know how he likes his tea - black, 1 spoon sugar with a pinch of ginger in it.I know he doesn't like his ironed shirts to be folded. I know he doesn't throw his socks around.
I know...

The sound of the approaching train woke me up from my reverie and I turned to look at him once more. To make sure that it was indeed him, my first and only love.

He had heard my heartbeat. For the first time in 10 years our eyes met, ever so gingerly. But the flick of recognition in his eyes lasted only a fraction of a second.

We waited till the platform cleared from the crowd of the train which had just arrived.

With bated breath, I waited for him to make the first move. He did.

He walked towards me... with his 3 year old son holding onto his arms and his beautiful wife by his side.

'It's a big surprise running into you here. How are you? It's been so long'

I knew there was no going back, even if it only meant turning the time machine 10 years behind.With this realization dawning on me, I had only one response to offer to his friendly reintroduction.

'Pardon me, but do I know you? Have we met before?'

And that is how we broke up..10 years after we broke apart.

You & I

It's just a silver ring, I say.
Yes, but it's what you got me, he tells me.

Why don't you go out for a walk?
I rather spend that time here with you.

You look dumb with your hair so short.
But you hate my messy hair when I let it grow.

Why do you always want to hold my hands?
Because your's fit perfectly into mine.

Why can't you cook for a change?
Because you are the best cook I have ever seen.

You are a terrible kisser.
I have kissed only you.

Will you ever leave me and go?
Yes, If you find someone who can love you more than I do.

I have been talking only about you, Don't you want to ask me anything back?
I have also been talking only about you. All my replies have 'you' in it.

Why is it always a choice of either giving 'up' or giving 'in'?
Have you considered giving 'back'?

Just a day older..not so wiser !

This is probably the first post, I am not going to be putting up in my social networking site and shout out about. No harm in doing that, or so I thought. But then, apparently we are at an age where even disclaimers are never understood !

My writings are not always about me. Some of them are, some aren't. 

My writings aren't always true. Some may have happened, some may probably be the way I had hoped it would happen and some are probably what I hope will happen.  

But sharing these thoughts in an open forum made me the center of scrutiny in every aspect of my life. I want to spare myself that agony. I love writing, but I hate the fact that people use it to judge me.

Go on. Judge me if you so want to. I take the bliss in knowing that me and only me knows the truth (or hidden lies) in every word in my posts ! That is a good feeling and I don't mind enjoying it for a while.

And thus I embark onto today's post and my first one for this year. 

My inspiration for this post: Solitude! 

The only birthday I have spent in absolute solitude, confined to the 4 walls of my house. It's not that I dint try. I feel enlightened. It gave me a lot of 'Me' time.

If you ask me how I wanted this day to be. I would have loved to be woken up by  Hobbes barking and licking away my face. Be dragged out of bed by amma and make an early morning visit to the temple. Be swamped by flowers and gifts by near and loved ones. Cut a cake lighted up by 29 glowing candles. Blow them out with one swift gush of breath and pray out my heart's biggest wish. Have everyone sing out the 'Happy birthday' song. Go out for an outstanding dinner treat with my friends. Fun, laughter, teases, friendly punches. It would have been a day to remember, like all my other birthdays.

And how did this day turn to be..well that's a memory I take to the end.

I guess I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, hoping for the wrong people to do the right things or the right people to do... anything... maybe !

This is going to be a post I am going to regret when I wake up tomorrow morning.  But I am not letting this one come down. Certainly not one of my best work at all, but someday I can sit and think as to how much of what I wrote here was true or wasn't true ! Spending a birthday alone can crack anyone up I guess and a birthday spent with no cakes, flowers or gifts, well ... ... Happy birthday to me ! I just hope turning 30 wouldn't be so uneventful ! The last year I get to say 'In my twenties'..toast away !

It rained in my heart

Yet another day 

And more lies.

I believe you

And you are all smiles.

A fool in love

I am not.

Trust in love

is what I was taught.

You are happy

you fooled me again.

Just to keep you happy

I act the fool again.

Twelve minutes to Twelve

I am always in hurry. Today was no different either. Leaving for work on time in the mornings can be a huge challenge for me. And invariably it still means I end up at least 10 minutes late too. But today was destined to be different and I had no idea about that when I woke up.Oh! except maybe for the date 12.12.12, the last one of its kind in this century!

As was routine, while rushing out of the apartment, the lighted oil lamp is always the last thing which usually catches my attention and I end up running all the way back in just to put it out and then rush out again.

Well, if superstitions are to be believed, getting back in after leaving your house in the morning is considered to bring ill luck, which would mean that I am knowingly bringing in ill luck everyday. But I don't believe in that and so far I have had nothing to complain about how my days have ever been.

Like I said, today was no different. The door was just about to be shut and that's when I noticed the slight yellow glow still blinking in the otherwise dark room and I curse myself for forgetting it again and run back in. As was habit, I try to put it out with a swift flick of my palm.

Usually, one swift flick and its done. I don't bother to give a second look.I mumble a small apology to the entire bulk of gods seated there and run out grabbing my heavy bag. Today, however, the one swift flick resounded in a loud thud metallic sound and the next thing I know, I have a half broken lamp lying near my feet with the hot oil spilled in a random fashion on the floor below, the carpet and the wall next to it. The lamp has been put out, but this was not how I had intended it to.

My heart skipped a beat and something in my head kept on  saying 'this has to definitely mean something bad'. I was still late and I run out to get into my car. All the while on my drive to work, I expected to be run down by someone or something ! Reached work safe and sound.

So I guess the bad luck wasn't on me after all.  But I still had to be sure. I called up every single person in every corner of the world who held a place in my heart. For every missed call, my heart skipped a beat again. But when the text sound beeped in my mobile, I breathed in relief again. So that was not it either.

I checked my emails every half hour to make sure I was still employed. That was going good too.

I never usually disturb him while we are at work, but today I just had to make sure. So I kept calling him way too often and he was very patient about it too.

Finally when I did reach back home, I looked over and promised them a new lamp very soon and told them not to try any more new tricks this time ! I was pretty sure they got the idea. Relieved I hit the sack and slept like a baby.

The pang of hunger woke me up around 11:30 PM and I wake up not too happy that there's still half an hour left to go of this bad luck day. But I console myself. After-all what could possibly go wrong in just half an hour.

After fixing myself a nice quick dinner, I come to turn on my laptop.

1 unread email. From him. I wonder why he emails. Usually it's a call or a text. I open it.

Hi,

I hope you are not too surprised by this email. But I just dint have the courage to tell this to you on call. Hence the email. 

Well, the big news is I am getting married and yes, its not to you. I am sorry, but you know how it is. Family,age ,religion and social circle. I wish I had a better answer for you. She is very nice too. Dint get to spend too much time with her yet, but I have an entire lifetime to do that now. 

You are great too, but its just not us. I hope you understand.Thanks for everything.

Love,
X

And I look at the time, 12 minutes to 12 on 12/12/12, the last one of it's kind in this century.

So this day was special and superstitions are true too...

Ex bashing

So now that the cat’s out of the bag, I have come to realize how curiosity indeed kills the cat. I lose count of the number of people who have approached me just to ask me what went wrong. And in most of them, I see the sadistic pleasure of hoping to hear the worst. So I purposefully avoid any explanations and keep the story to the bare minimum. Seeing their face fall flat down is my version of self-sadistic feeling.

And of all the zillion questions that have been thrown at me, the most obvious one is ofcourse as why there is no ‘ex-bashing’ in my blog. Why am I not playing any blame game and hurling abuses? Why this diplomacy?

 And today I break my silence on it. Here’s my answer to it.

There is no ex-bashing in any of my writings, because no matter what the current situation is, at one point of time in my life, this was the person I had chosen to spend the rest of my life with, to grow old with and to have a family with. And this decision was something I had taken when my mind was wide awake and not forced into. Clearly we had seen something then. A dream we hoped to turn into reality. How many times have we woken up from a dream and wished we hadn’t dreamt it? How many times have we tried to relive the same dreams in our minds in the hope that someday it might turn true?

Just because some dreams turned sour, it doesn’t make either one of us a bad person.

Life is all about realizing when to turn back, when to move on and when to just stop making excuses.

And thus one such day, I decided to stop making excuses, face the truth and live it up.

So next time you come probing with more questions in regard to my personal life, this link is where you will be auto redirected to. This is all that you need to know. After all…..it’s my life.

See Paris for me...

I turned back to give one last look at the magnificient lighted up Eiffel tower in front of me and I could feel the beauty of it spell bound me again. I was finding it hard to fight back and pull myself away from its overwhelming aura. My teary eyes made it impossible to keep looking at it for long.

I was here to live a dream. And it's now no longer in the bucket list. Time for me to drag my bags and head away.

I pulled out the faded crumpled paper and that was the last check in it. Last destination - crossed and complete. End of a lifetime's dream.

' So you promise to marry me ? '. The 18 year old me was excited and bubbly.

'Yes My dear. Absolutely'. He had replied.

'I want to tour the world. Do you promise to take me? I want to see Paris, Italy, sit in the gondola in Venice, ski in Switzerland, have waffles in Belgium, stuff myself with donuts and cheesecake from USA, pluck a maple leaf in Toronto and honeymoon in Seychelles. Can you do all this for me'?

At that age, these were what appealed to me about marriage.

Without the slightest hesitation, he promised me every single thing I wanted. A roof over my head, a hand to hold when we walked, a hug to cheer me up,a good night kiss every night, a house bustling with family and friends.. he promised me my every wish.

In return, I assured him to be the ideal wife, daughter-in-law and a mother anyone would be proud of.

And then we grew up.....

....Or maybe just he did.

Cause I still hung onto the promises made to me when I was 18.

At long last, when we did finally tie the knot, I waited for him to surprise me and start living the dream built over the years.

I waited for years for the Seychelles honeymoon he promised.

My extended hands were left unheld, until at last they decided to stay where they were to, by my side, hanging listless and unheld.

The good night kisses I blew out into the darkness remained haunting.

Paris, Italy and the gondola's in Venice remained cut-out's from magazines in my albums.

Now at 62, when I finally made it to my honeymoon, I refused to let my spirits die cause I was travelling alone and had lived alone. I had made it. So what if there was no husband to capture my photographs while I lived my every dream. The memories were imprinted in my memory for ever.

I wasnt a bride without a honeymoon. I was the bride who lived her honeymoon 34 years after her wedding.... by herself.

After all, somebody had to listen to my heart. She had whispered 'See paris for me...'

A walk past midnight

The unrelenting rain crashed on the car creating a bigger thunderous effect than it actually was. The FM was playing some random music which I could in no way relate to but was still finding solace in.

The cab was full.. with an assorted mix of people from different background, different lives but doing the same work. Now heading back to their warm homes after a hard day's work. I tried reading into their minds. Some looking forward to sharing the day's mishaps with the dear ones waiting back home. Or to just reach home and top off the day with a neat whisky or maybe to follow some random updates on facebook.. but every face did speak a plan. Some hope. Something to look forward. I avoided the mirror. I knew what was in store for me and I dint need a second look to affirm to it for me.

My colleague's phone buzzed. Ecstatic, she picks the phone and whispers 'Yes baby. Will be home in 20 minutes. yes I will text you'. I look at her. she studies my quizzical look for a minute and then explains to me as to how her husband gets worried each time she is out on the night shift. How he thinks the night time isnt safe for his perfect angel. I smile. She smiles too. She takes out her phone again and as promised, texts him of our cab's location.

I decided to be brave too and venture a risk. I take out my phone and compose a text. Nothing big. Just a small two letter word. A 'Hi'. I choose his number and click on send.

Crazy instinct I must admit, but it's been an action I always regret. Each time.Every single time. As soon as it has been done. This time was no different either. I should have known better than to have been stupid. Again.

I tried racking my brains to think of one person in this whole world who would be worried if I was to inform that I was out, at night, all by myself. Would it matter to you that I was out this late?

One sure bet was my parents. But then hey, I guess I have already given them enough headache as it is. The last thing I would want them to do is sit up late at night worrying about my return. But then it was definitely a consolation to know that there are still a few extended hands to fall back into.

But you know what I mean, dont you. That's not what I was talking about. That's not the concern I am concerned about here. Day after day, when I travel back in the wee hours and the entire world is silent and where there are worried husbands, love struck boyfriends or even a attempting to be a boyfriend calling up each and every single number in my cab, I cannot help but think, where did i go wrong?

Why is there a wrong notion that I am independent? Which aspect of me shouts out to people to leave me alone. Why do I not get to be someone's princess, someone's delicate angel, someone's hearing post who gets to hear sweet nothings whispered all day and all night long? I would love to cuddle and sleep. Spoon me all night long and put me to sleep. Sing a song in my ear and wake me up in the morning. Treat me to a bar of chocolate or a bunch of flowers. Surprise me with a gift. Take me out to a park or a beach or a movie or even to your friend's party. Share the space in my couch with me, watch a noon show on tv with me, share a few laughs with me..

The blaring honking of the car jerked me out of my dream world and I look around. Our cab's been hit. Talk about everything which can go wrong and apparently it does!

A very apologetic driver turns to us and tells us that we have to find our own means to get back. Out comes all mobile phones again. The frantic better halves are already on their way to pick up their dear ones and get them transported home... away in safety.

It's 2AM. I still sit by the pavement on the road and watch as each and every single one in the cab are received by welcoming extended arms. The last one to leave, looks back at me and questions very gingerly 'Are you sure there's absolutely no one to pick you up? We could have given you a lift, but we are headed the other way you know. Really sorry'.

I give her my most charming smile and tell her that its absolutely fine. She has no idea that I am already used to this. Used to this feeling of not having expectations, of not having the right to dream and of not having a tomorrow to look forward to.

Solitude is an infection. It's gotten to me and I know its not easy to get rid of. Bear it and move on. That's the remedy my shrink suggested.

I decided to do what I always do best. Make the worst choice and hope that its for the best. I start walking to my house. It's still raining and its still past 2AM, but I know there is no one up and awake waiting to hear of my safe arrival at an empty house with an empty bed.

I wake up to the sound of an incoming text message next afternoon. 'Mobile was silent.Saw your text now'.......

A first proposal...

Will you marry me? Please..

I look down at the bright shining eyes looking at me with so much adoration that I felt my heart melt away and along with it, I could also feel all my worries just give way. The world seemed a much better place to live. Life looked beautiful again. I felt pretty again...But this was a question, I know I can never say 'Yes' to.

But yet again, looking down at that bright face with so much expectations on his earnest face, I just couldnt make myself speak out the much detested 'No'.

No, I dint want to be the first girl who has ever broken his heart. He would only remember me for that, for the rest of his life. The girl who rejected his first ever proposal. I might even scar him for life. He might never again be able to propose another girl.

But then, he's only 4 now ! He has got plenty of time left in his life to get back up on his feet and fall in love again.

And as for me, I am already 26 and this was the closest anyone had ever come to proposing me ! Oh dear.. was I in a dilema or what ! I burst out laughing and my youngest suitor again looked up at me in astonishment.

It's not like he was on the floor, propped on one knee with a ring in one hand and waiting for my answer. He popped the question to me while playing with his train set and he was still busy playing with it, unheedful of my answer to his question.

My curiousity entirely peaked, I ask him 'Okay. So tell me why do you want to marry me?'

Still playing, he replies 'I love the chocolate milk shake you make. I love the way you make the faces on my sandwich you know. All my friends are so jealous of my sandwiches.I dont let them touch it you know. And you buy me better clothes than mummy. Mummy doesnt know to spike my hair either'.

'Hmm..but I still do all that for you na, just like your mummy. Why do you want to marry me?' I probe the little mind again.

He looks up at me and speaks out with full honesty 'Mummy is already married to daddy na. But you are not married to anyone. Thats why I will marry you. So you be here with us full time ok'.

And I hug the little one so tight he screams to be let go and curses me for spoiling his well spiked hair ! And I still burst out laughing looking at my first ever little suitor, who so genuinely offered to be by my side for the rest of our lives.

Well, he is 6 years old now. Still a very very long way to go for him to get married. But the day he finds his beautiful princess and offers her his heart. I am going to swoop down and accuse him for not marrying me as he promised ! Until then, I bask in the glory of the most innocent marriage proposal I ever got !

Indian summer

'Hey..looks like you bought along the Indian summer with you to Ireland'.

Hearing the word 'Indian', I turn around and I see a friendly faced stranger smiling and walking towards me. I was on my way back after a weekly shopping spree and was enjoying a leisurely stroll in an entirely new neighborhood. He catches up to where I was standing and smiles again 'Lovely weather aint it..like I said..I believe you bought the Indian summer along with you'.

I smiled back at him and agreed wholeheartedly with his statement.
He: 'I am headed this way too.. Mind if I walk along?'
Me: 'Not at all !'

I had read a gazillion times on how people out here are very friendly and that I shouldn't be surprised if a total stranger approached for small talk. But I had decided to still keep my self defence mentality alert (years of living in India and I was automatically attuned to it). I had never really bothered to pay any heed to anyone or anything around me when I was outside. But today was a beautiful day. Lovely sunshine and a cool pleasant breeze, I had let my guard down and was totally enjoying the day. Hence I figured, I might as well enjoy a total stranger's conversation too. And so we walked.

He was from Ireland. An artist by profession. Not young but not too old either. We had walked for almost 20 minutes. He told me a lot about this country. It's culture, people, food. Told me about places I should visit.. not the regular ones updated in the tourist information links online..but of the hidden beauty of Ireland. He talked in length of the sceneries an artist's brush strokes had duplicated and framed. He quoted some lovely poems describing the beauty of both Ireland and India. In fact he even took me by surprise when he sang the first two lines of the Indian national anthem. While we waited for the pedestrian light to turn green, he unrolled his latest masterpiece and showed me the lovely scenery he was currently painting, along with the photo of the place he had captured to help in replicating it.

Nevertheless to say, it was the best walk ever. I had never realized how easy it was to start a conversation with an absolute stranger. He never asked my name. And neither did I. The entire conversation was about the history, the geography, the deep blue skies, food and almost everything under the sun, except for any details about the 2 individuals who was conversing.

When we reached the cross-points where we are to head off in different directions, he gives me one last statement 'Like 2 people who meet in a train or flight, our paths crossed too. Enjoyed the walk with a lovely lady by my side and if fated, may our paths cross again. Enjoy your stay in Ireland. May you find as much beauty in this lovely land as I did.'

With a 'cheers' we moved on, in different directions.

This day has definitely been one to remember. It's only been sundown since this and I don't even recall the stranger's smiling face. I am pretty sure I would not even recognize him even if our paths ever cross..nor would he recognize me. But the conversation and the wonderful words are imprinted in a tucked away corner of my memory. A day I experienced the little bout of friendliness which added a lot of color to my otherwise listless day. A day to remember.. the day an absolute stranger bought a lasting smile on my face for the day! Thank you stranger..whoever and wherever you are...!

Cheers !!

I phone..but not iPhone !

This post is in context with a conversation I had with a dear friend back home a couple of days ago. As an intro, this is how the conversation started

Call from my tesco mobile(Love the call rates to India on this one !) to her vodafone number in India: Ahh well maybe for added emphasis..from my nokia phone to her 'iPhone'.

Me: Heyyyy !!
She: Deeeeepss !! OMG..its you.. lovely to hear your voice!

And then a whole lot of nonsensical futile exchange of words... and then..

She: Oh god ! Deeps..please tell me you are not calling me from that battered old nokia phone of yours ! Please tell me you got yourself an iPhone, atleast now.

Now I was intrigued.

Me: Isnt it enough that I care enough to spend money and give you an ISD call... you want me to spend more money and call you from an iPhone? How does it matter?

She: aah..well forget it !
She gives me a proverb in malayalam..which I rather leave out untranslated here for the sake of my reputation.

She: But honestly, people go to UK, US or anywhere abroad and the first few things they do..upgrade their laptop and mobile phone..you know..get a mac and an iPhone...Sending you to Dublin is just a total waste! You havent even bought anything worthwhile..

And well..more accusations in this line of thinking came lashing out at me from her.

Me: Ok sister ! Now you just crossed the line..it takes a lot to get me pissed off and you just succeeded. I am hanging up now..

she: ok... so I will hear the rest of this in your blog ;)..I know you write about things you cannot actually tell people on their face...see ya love !

Omg.. She literally left me sitting there with the phone still in my ear.. she did know me too well. It took me a couple of days..but yes..she was right..here I am writing about it in my blog and to fill it in with my counter statements on it !

And yes.. I use my blog as a weapon to talk about things which I otherwise can never do face to face.

I am a very bad 'arguer'. I cannot come up with counter statements immediately. At best I need atleast a day to plan my statements! This has been very nicely made use of by all my friends and my dear and near ones for their benefit. But hey, its the drawback of being a capricorn.. I like an organized flow of thought and I hate to be unprepared !

Anyways moving on to the topic of interest here...
It's true..I havent got myself a new phone or a new laptop..and why should i? My nokia works just as fine as it did all the past few years..and my HP Lappy..well..let's just say its not exactly my best friend now...but it's still around to keep me sane enough.

And to be honest.. I am NOT a fan of the iPhone..why is it so hard for people to get it into their heads?

Don't get me wrong.. I love steve jobs..I adore the man ! And I love the iPad (Missed it twice in a lucky draw so far!) and the iPod..but I just don't like the iPhone! I mean..why would I pay so much to buy a phone and then pay more to get the apps I want to use..and then sit and configure it all by my own? And to top it all..no in-built radio???? That's like the all time low for me..!

Ya..tell me to use itunes and set up my playlist..but hey no thanks..I don't like to decide my playlist..I like to enjoy the random playlist chosen by some random person in some random location ! I love the element of surprise in it.. I literally jump with glee..if my favourite song is played on the radio..and I practically frown and pout if it's something I hate.. I love this enactment. Call me silly..call me old school..but this are few things in my day which I love to do. I don't want to ruin it by going all mechanical and setting up the playlist..I don't want to know that the next one to be played is my favourite song..it takes out the fun.

When I was in europe last year..I loved the french radio. I had no clue about the songs or the lyrics..but I simply loved it. And I am not even sure if it was french either..all i knew was..it definitely wasnt english and I loved it. I could never track the favourite songs in that because I had no idea how to search for it in google..and I know that if ever I hear those songs again, I will definitely jump high in joy!

oh..and getting back on track.. yes so I am not fond of the iPhone.But I love the games on it. was hooked onto the ninja fruit slash for a very long time and angry birds. In fact, one time in a shopping mall in bangalore, they had the angry birds set up in the kids section to play. Well, I went ahead and threw the bird so far and so high up, I just missed the perfume section by a fraction! That was the end of my angry birds ..

I am sentimental about my phone and my gadgets. I cannot discard them just cause something new has come up.If they are working just fine and serves my purpose, I rather stick on to it. I loved my nokia 1101 which I used in college. It was and still is my favourite ! Even when all of my friends graduated to camera phones, I held on to it for 4 years..until a fall from the 5'th floor made my lil phone breathe it's last :( !

And even if I do change my phone ever, it's definitely not going to be a iPhone. I want a 3D phone!

But moving on, if you my friend have a problem in me giving you a call from my battered old nokia, I suggest you get yourself a phone id installed instead of a caller id and pick calls only from your favourite phones !

And ps: I know you are reading this..so the foot note is..Yes I am still royally pissed at you.You know all the relevant dates. Keep the flowers and gifts coming and maybe I will consider forgiving you :P ! And thanks for the inspiration..you gave me something different to write about !

Colors

In the mood for a bit of color today..changed the blog layout ;) ! Been all white and drab for a long long time.. now I want to get a feeling of the lovely colors around ! Spring is in full bloom..and so is my blog !
Happy to be alive !

Conversations

Well well.. Looks like I am on a roll ! Totally absorbed into the poetic mood today. My last one for the day today :) !

Every conversation needs words
But you entwined ours 
with just fleeting glances distorts.


My persuasion in full eagerness
desperately I yearned for your tenderness.
I knew better than to wait for it
But a small part of me still believed in it.


I waited for the day to come
When the depth of my words are no longer numb.
But like every other promise 
this too was just, yet another sacrifice.


A look, a touch
these I miss much.
Your Silence is deafening
when my heart is wrenching.


I plucked a silence from you
I plucked a silence from me
And I entwined it into a conversation of sorts.
But you still gave me fleeting glances distorts
and every conversation needs words.

Sleepless in Dublin !

On a normal weekday, I struggle to wake up in time to even make it to my bus at 8:15AM for work. Come weekend and I am wide awake by freaking 5:30AM! Totally bugged with this unfortunate turn of events and since I have nothing better to do so early in the morning, I have decided to vent this out in my blog.

Oh dear lord, its going to be one long long saturday and just when I thought I could atleast sleep the day off!

I guess my post title should be 'Sleep less' on weekdays and 'Sleepless' on weekends ! Wish there was some gadget in blogspot where I can set this to change based on the day !

Moving on, that's another fact I am loving about this place. Its so much fun to just stay huddled in the blanket. The weather is always so cold ! Every morning, waking up is like taking a dip into an icy cold frozen pond. I test the air around by just keeping a toe outside the blanket to see how cold it really is and then gradually let myself out of the cozy comforts of the warm duvet and make a dash to get dressed for work !

In my every day phone conversations with my mom, she tells me how very hot it is back in India.. I never have the heart to tell her I am literally freezing away here. This is probably the first May in my entire lifetime that I am spending huddled up and in a sweater literally the entire day. Had I been back home like every other May's in the past, I would be walking around with a big bottle of frozen water, trying to find some spot where the breeze is just mildly hot and praying for ways to keep the sun away atleast for an hour. Now I realize how unrelenting the summers in India really are. The blazing sun, the tiring heat, the hot hot hot winds and to top it all, no water and electricity supply !

My last few summers in Bangalore were terrible. Invariably we were always out of water every 3 months in the peak of summer. Waiting for those big tankers with their water supply was like a torture. Those truck drivers assumed the role of rain gods and oh god so were their prices (It was sky high) !

The heights of this torture session is when the electricity board authorities decide to taunt us by turning off the power exactly at mid afternoon. There have been days when we have even walked down to the offices and pleaded to the authorities to turn the power back on but to no avail. Its always some issue with some line in some far off place which has burnt down and needs to be replaced. What I never understood was why does the line burn off exactly at 2PM every single weekend !

All said and done, after surviving so many summers in India, it's fun to experience a new kind of summer here. A summer with water supply, power supply and temperatures in single digits !

Have I told this before here? I am in love.... with Dublin.

Europe had always been my dream destination. And this place is exactly how I had dreamed it to be. Quaint, green and so very pleasant. Just taking a walk around is so reassuring. I had been on a long walk around my office yesterday and I just couldn't make myself turn back and walk. It's what a hill station back home would be like ! No high rise glass buildings to obstruct the view of the sky. No shade of green in the trees are alike..it's like an artist's painting of what god wanted a beautiful view to be like.. Just perfect !

Yes, its true I miss the chaos back home but I love the peace here too. And all this say without even going on a single sightseeing tour here. I have been here almost 2 months and till date, I haven't visited a single place other than my office, despite the fact that one of most famous landmark here, the St.Patrick Church is right at my doorstep and with all the other major attractions being just a small walking distance apart ! I had made a huge list of all the places I wanted to see here in Dublin, the top rated being 'Glendalough', the lovely location where P.S I Love You was shot. But I guess all that will have to wait. And ya, I know this post is a stark contrast to my previous one below. But I guess 2 months is long enough time for anyone to get over homesickness and I am back on track !

Right now, I need sleep !!! It's a weekend for heavens sake and I just cannot be staying up so wide awake !
I just know that all this lost sleep in going to swoop down on me on a monday morning, when even the extra 5 minutes I shut my eyes turns out to be 2 long hours ! And since I am so bugged this particular morning, I do not choose a picture to go along with this post, unlike my every other post ! Hmph...weekend..humbug !

Take my life away

I know the day is no good when I wake up in the morning and not have you around to tell me - Hey gorgeous..have a lovely day!
I know I don't feel beautiful 

The day doesn't feel beautiful either
Loving you takes my life

But when I look into your eyes, I know you are worth it.

The lady in the orange vest

Back again..with much more to share. Please tread along only if you have the time.

As an introduction, the first thing I did when I logged into my blogger link was to update my profile and change the location from Bangalore,India to Dublin, Ireland. I will be shameless and admit it in an open forum that I have always dreamed/wished of doing such a change and this post is all about it.

'You see that lady in the orange vest there? You can collect it from her'. I turn in the direction of the pointed finger and true, I do see the lady in the orange vest. Propped with my laptop bag on my shoulder, I scurry towards here and request her for the immigration form for flight EY-67 from Bangalore to Abudhabi. Armed with the form in one hand, I turn around frantically every 2 steps, to wave to my family standing outside the departure gate. My parents,my aunty..I was leaving behind everything I loved and owned and moving to something I dint know yet.

Once done with all the formalities, I am at gate 13 and find a seat for myself. I still have a good 1 and half hour to kill before my flight boards. I look around the airport. It's jam packed and overhead I see huge banners on SAP. My heart swells with pride. I am a part of that wonderful family. And almost immediately, my joy deflates. I am leaving behind something far more precious.

On a normal flight, I enjoy the take off. I love to feel the sudden speed and the lightness when it actually takes off. But this time I was too engulfed in my own thoughts to even realize the take off or the landing.

'Farewell to deepthi...lets assemble now'. A few days ago, when this mail came to my inbox, I felt a sudden lump. We all assembled in a small conf room and while stories were shared and laughter broke out, I tried my best to keep a straight face. This was my home away from home. I stayed in bangalore for over 4 years and this had been my home. Most of the people in the room werent just my colleagues, they were family. And I was leaving all this behind.

And that is how I got on the flight to Abudhabi, which is a transit to my final destination Dublin, Ireland. As the distance between the travel date and the offer date grew less, my emotions went from being that of excitement to worry. So much so that, by the time I was on the connecting flight from Abudhabi to Dublin, I was a total nervous wreck and in tears. To make up for this sick behavior, I pretended to read from the 'P.S. I love you' book. It was a 8.30 hour flight of which I refused every meal which was offered. Ultimately, my fellow traveller, a local Irish guy was sympathetic and offered me the following comment 'You know maybe you shouldn't try to read the book after all.. it is a very sad story. Try the movie, atleast you can make it through'.

Anyways, all the hurdles later, I arrived at Dublin. I had been thorough numerous updates on FB where most of my friends had been away on onsite travel for longer duration. Were they all cranky as I was? No,certainly dint look so. They had happy updates to put on FB. They had lovely photos to share on FB. Here I am sulking and cribbing. The last straw in my journey was when I was waiting in Queue for the immigration clearance at Dublin and I noticed an indian girl standing a lil ahead of me.She came back and joined me in the queue. Turns out she was here for a week and was all excited and bubbly. She asks me 'So when is your return flight back? Mine's for next saturday'. I tell her I have no return ticket. The look of bewilderment on her face was totally worth it :)!

Anyways, to cut a long story short, I was a sad picture of total dejection by the time I walked in to the service apartment which was set for me. I walked out in the chilly evening in a unknown place with no directions, no contacts whatsoever looking for a local sim connection as my international roaming dint work and my laptop refused to turn on !. Finally after walking for hours and getting lost among drunken youngsters (yeah..I reached here on the St.Patrick day parade and the entire city was flowing with alcohol), I somehow got back in one piece pretty late at night all by myself! That part I am definitely proud of.. I handled myself well there ;)!

But the next bit, I am not so proud of... I called my parents and howled my heart out, my dad hasnt slept the entire week since. He wakes up at 1:30 AM post midnight to call me up and make sure I got home safe from work. My mom waits for me to call in the morning.

I freaked out my poor brother who was in turn freaked out by my dad for my howling! Basically, by the end of the night, I had every member in my family up and about worrying about me.

I moped around in the house for the entire day and night. The only one person I knew in this town was another colleague of mine who had travelled here earlier and he was in China and I had no idea. His number was not reachable either. Had I not met the one Indian couple who lived in the same building the next morning, I probably would have been back home in the next flight ! But destiny had different plans..and here I am..one week later, still in the same city.

It's beautiful. Every evening, I walk by the liffey river and take in its wonderful beauty. The weather is amazing. A casual stroll does wonders. I shop for the craziest things. And now I am busy looking for a house to move into. A house where I hope to have new memories to share, a new life to remember. I still miss my family like crazy, my parents, my friends and pretty much everyone else...and everything back home..but I am also learning to fall in love with a new place..

But I have a new found respect to all you onsiters out there..who made such a transition look so easy in FB. I literally went through a spectrum of every possible human emotion in just 4 days and I am still not stable, but atleast I know I can survive. Added below is  picture of the lovely river I stroll by most evenings.

Wheels of Time

After tweaking around with the layout and the design of the blog, I realized I should finally get down to doing what I should be doing with the blog - Write! It's been so long since I have penned my thoughts here, that today, when I missed talking to my inner voice, I felt the urge to get back to my blog and so here I am ... back again and with so much to write. I wish I knew how and where to start. With so many topics to address, I am going to let my organizational skills take over, so here goes:

a) First of all, I have been going through all the posts here and I noticed quite a few new comments on most posts I haven't trespassed in ages. I am extremely apologetic for not having replied to these posts. It's very rude on my part, for not appreciating/replying to people who actually took time out to read and comment here. I express my heartfelt sincere apologies in this public forum.

b) And now, as I write this, I am once again shouting out my glee to be married to my best friend :)! He was the first person who introduced me to the wonderful world of writing. Nine years ago, in an online chat window he tells me 'Type to me 5 things about you' and now many many chat windows,letters,emails and text messages later,he tells me 'Type to me ONLY 5 things about you' ! Well my darling, you are the one who got me started on writing..so bear with it..for the rest of our lives :) !

c) Aah and now to really move onto my favourite area of the post..

After a prolonged stay in kerala, I am headed back to bangalore to resume my life as the software engineer in the IT world. Due to lack of energy, I had decided to move on in luxury and booked myself into Indigo for an expensive, lesser travel time option to bangalore. My pre travel mood was foul as I was quite homesick in leaving after being pampered at home for close to a month. On boarding the flight, I noticed an elderly couple in the adjacent seat.

After the flight take off, the steward came forward with the food and beverages. When asked if they would prefer tea or coffee, the couple happily ordered for 2 cups of coffee. When after being served the coffee, they were told to pay up the amount of 120 INR, I could see the shocked look on the aunty's face and the bewilderment on the uncle's face. I could fathom that they hadnt expected to be charged for it. Once the payment was cleared and the steward moved on, the aunty rebuked her husband in the usual wifey tone 'I thought you said they serve everything free of cost! 120 rs for 2 cups of coffee..I could've served you coffee for 1 month in that cost!' and the uncle very sweetly replied 'Yes! but you would be drinking the coffee on land and not in the air'. At this very sweet statement, I couldn't help but smile. This was the ice breaker for us to start on the introductions. The aunty very sweetly turned to me and admitted that they had no clue the coffee would be charged. One topic led to another and this is how it was (in malayalam):

Aunty: So you work in bangalore?
Me: Yes aunty
Aunty: Are you married?
Me: Yes aunty. And my husband is currently working in Kerala.
Aunty: So you came home to visit your parents?
Me: Yes, was with my parents and in-laws home.

After a few thoughtful moments:
Aunty: We are going to see our grand daughter. Our son's daughter. she is 6 months old now. They had the delivery from bangalore itself since our son could not take time off from his work. My daughter in law's parents were there for the past 6 months to help them. Now they are going to look after their second daughter who just delivered, so our son is flying us out to help with the baby.

I try to read her face to understand the emotion she is trying to express so that I could offer an approproate reaction to her statement. My 2 options for a response were 'wow' - if my study of her face revealed happiness at the above statement or just an 'Oh' if it dint.

Before I could offer a reply, the uncle who was a silent spectator to our conversation until then, pitched in 'I hope our neighbours look after the cows properly. And my plants, I hope kannan remembers to water them every day. You closed the attic windows, dint you?' The aunty gives a silent nod.

Both of them go silent again.

To avoid an awkward silence, I ask them where they live in Trivandrum.

Aunty: you might not know, we dont live in the city. We live in the outskirts, near parassala.
I admit I am not very familiar with the place.

Aunty: It's not like the city. You see, uncle loves gardening so we have a huge garden around the place. We even have a few farm animals. Our day's are spent more outside the house than inside.It's going to be a big change for us you know. This is the first time we are even travelling outside kerala. Our son speaks very good english, so we wont have a problem in bangalore na mole? Both of us dont speak english you see. Anyways, I don't think we have to go out anywhere. Both of them go for work in the morning, so we will be with the baby only. In today's world, not enough we bring up our children, we also have to bring up our grandchildren alle mole..

I offer a smile. As there really was nothing more I could offer to her conversation, she smiled and settled herself for a nap.

She had set my thinking cells ON. I glance at her hands resting on the side. They arent well manicured or dainty. They were coarse and tarnished. They spoke volumes of the number of the times she had spent cutting,scrubbing,cleaning and mopping. They were the hands of a devoted hard working mother. They arent spared even in old age. They are prepared for more scrubbing and cleaning and cutting.

When it's time for the children to take up parenting their parents, here they are..travelling miles to take up the role of parenting again. I do not judge the son here or any other sons or daughters. I just feel an overwhelming sense of sadness in realizing what a selfish generation we have turned out to be. It's always about our jobs, our career, our children, our home. While we dont want to close down our cramped little apartment even for a day, we expect our parents to shut down their entire lives (their house, their pets, their friends) and travel down to start a new life at our place.

I am no different. I am expecting my parents to travel down and come be with me. I am no saint but I am no daughter either.. I know I will also be just another mother who wants nothing but the best for her daughter/son even if it means having my parents give up everything and come to start a new future for my kid!

Well, this arrangement has its positive side too. Like every coin, this too has it's 2 faces. However at the moment, when I see the elderly couple trying to adjust to the new relocation, my thoughts are more oriented towards the not-so-positive facts of life.

Footnote: With my recitation of each day's events, my husband has judged it best for me to be sleeping during travel. He claims I intrude on other people's privacy by observing too much and posting it on my blog! I don't think that's true. All my writings have been very generic. I take no names. However just to be safe, here's my disclaimer: Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely a coincidence and not intentional

Inked for life

Of the many crazy things I know I am sure to do in my life, a Tattoo was probably the last thing in the list. No, I guess it was not even there in the list . And how it turned out to be among the first few I actually did is still a mystery to me.

But now, over a year later since I got inked for life, I am ready to write about it :) ! [The final step was when my parents actually admired it.. though they have forbidden me from getting any more !]

In fact until a few years ago, I had no clue about the whole idea of tattooing. And even when I did come to know about it, I dint really find anything captivating about it, definitely not for me.. a person who till date creates a huge drama in a hospital if the doctor refers me for a blood test !

When nichu walked in one fine day and proudly displayed her first tattoo..I remember how aks and myself yelled out at her.
And in less than 4 months I was on my way to get my first tattoo done :)

Going back to the transition in these 4 months, I guess it was more of my craving to do something different, out of the ordinary. [This explanantion dint hold good while explaining to my mom as to why I got the tattoo done ;)]

Come to think of it..I never really had any reason for getting it done. It was an instinctive impulse and the only remorse I had was for the amount it costed me !

Nevertheless, the reactions of the kids in my hostel in complimenting me on being a 'cool didi ' ;) with the tattoo or the way I have managed to inspire the next generation in my family [who by the way have allowed to title me to be the first person in the tattoo genre ;) ] is more than reason enough for my tattoo adventure ! And I am proudly admiring my new addition ! :) Now all I need to complete the look is a few pairs of rugged clothes and a mexican desert and I am good to go... to flaunt my new look !

Ps: If any of you wish to get a tattoo done, I would recommend darkarts studio in bangalore. They do some of the most amazing designs I have ever seen, comparable to the miami ink and LA ink ones !

Was it me who changed you....?

She looked at the colorful portrait in her hands. The smile on her parents face in the picture spoke volumes on their happiness at welcoming her, their daughter, into the small family. She was 6 months old when it was taken.

They named her 'Diya'.. the light of their lives.

Now, five and half years later, she cannot remember a single day when she saw the smile on her parents face. The only happiness and joy she ever saw was all plastered on the multiple portraits and framed pictures which lined the walls in the house. The people who lived in the house did not reflect it on their faces.

Today, when she realized it has been a long time since she saw her dada, out of curiosity, she asked her mamma about him. And she always got the same reply from her. 'We need our space baby'.

Her 6 year old mind could not fathom what that meant. After all, it was a huge spacious house they lived in. It had so many rooms that even she dint know the count of it. Moreover, she was always ready to clear out her nursery room of all her toys if her dada would like to have that 'space'. Anything to have him in the house.

Without giving her a chance to ask any more questions, her mamma walked out.

She went back to browsing the album in her hand. Her parents in their wedding attire. Her parents on their world tour. Her parents at family gatherings. Her parents out on picnics with their friends. They were so radiant with the glow of their new life together.

From the day she could remember, while family members ogled at other little children, admiring them and telling them how cute they were...the only whispers she heard around her was about how sorry everyone was and what was to happen to her. She dint understand it then and she couldn’t understand it now either.

Her dada had come to see her, a long time ago. She had dressed up in her most prettiest dress and had packed all her new toys in her school bag to show him. When she finally saw him, she could barely manage to run into his outstretched arms. So excited was she on seeing him that she could hardly contain her blabbering. Finally, when she had calmed down enough she heard him say about how she would always be his first princess, and about how things were different and something about moving on and many other things of which she could understand nothing. But she dint want to disappoint her father. After all, if he was telling her all this he expected her to understand it. So she obediently nodded her head and intently listened to every word he uttered. She caught only one word from his talks - 'Drivers'.

On reaching back, when she was telling her mamma about the visit, she asked her what dada meant by saying that mom and him are getting drivers. Mom's eyes misted up. But she was busy comprehending the meaning in her own little imagination that she had failed to notice it. Probably they are getting new cars.

'Tomorrow is a big day' mamma told her.

She had heard something about the drivers being final tomorrow.

Early morning the next day, she went with her granny and mamma.

Dada was standing in one corner of the corridor. Mamma and dada walked in. She stayed out with her granny. She dint like the vibes she got in the place. Her heart told her something is not right.

Mamma walks out of the room right into granny's arms, gives her a tight hug and heaves a sigh and says it’s over and that he dint even request for the custody rights.

Little Diya turns to look for her dada. He walks out walks towards the opposite side. He holds the hands of the other 6 year old girl who was standing there and starts walking out without even giving her a look.

Diya turns to look at her mother who is already on her way out with her granny.

Stranded in the middle, she heard someone whisper that those 2 are now on their way to start to a new life.

No one realized that a third life had just ended......

No bindi...no Hindu...

It has indeed been a very long time since i penned something here..or rather blogged here.But then,what with a very non cooperative laptop (we simply cant seem to agree on our common working hours) and a matching lazy attitude to go with it..lets just say i cudnt make it to my blogspot page.However, it dosent mean there is a shortage of topics to blog about..there is plenty happening around which will be updated shortly..but as of now..my inspiration for this renewal of my online time is one particular incident which happened 2 days ago. And for most of you who know me...my reasons for blogging are either frustration,boredom or anger. Well this time, the category is the third..pure plain boiling mad rage..and you ask me why? well here goes why.....

A friend of mine.. after being tired of staying in a dingy hostel room with three other roommates finally decides she wants her own personal space and decided to venture out on a hunt to find herself a single room/studio apartment. Since i was well aware of the hardships in this 'treasure' hunt [I had gone through the same when i was trying to relocate after nichu moved to London :(, believe me..its horrible..especially for an unmarried working girl !! i finally settled down for a hostel for college girls !], i tried my best to persuade her to give up this fruitless activity. The end result of such house hunts are always some lucky autodrivers..who make a fortune after the numrous trips to different ends of the town.

Well..all that said and done.. and she with her persistant behaviour, hunts down probable houses. Last friday, i get a call from her saying that she has found a house with a single room available..but unfortunately..as she would be late in leaving office on that day, she wanted me to go and check it out. Reluctant as i was, i finally heeded and went off to inspect this so called house straight after work.

Its a quiet lane with houses which are attached to each other and with all weird shaped gates and with 'waves'[Kolam] on the roads. I stop in front of the house with the number mentioned in her sms to me.A small girl, around 8 to 9 years of age is sitting on the steps and trying to weave something out of the few flowers and leaves strewn around her.I stop short of the gate and i ask in plain pure english

'Is this Mr.Brihaspati's house?' [From my experience in banglore,Kids learn to speak very good english at a very young age!]
She stares at me. I hastily think i am mistaken and i rephrase my question in what i assume is proper kannda.
'Brihaspati mane ya ithu?'

She is on the verge of bursting into tears and while i look around frantically..she lets out a heart wrenching yelp which sounds something like 'apppaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa' and runs into the dark interiors of the house.
As i stand wondering what next, out comes a middle aged man in his white dhoti and a white baniyan and asks a very brisk 'What?'.
I move forward in an attempt to open the gates and tell him about my arrival here, when he abruptly moves forwards laying a protective hand on the latch of the gates.I look up at him and tell him that i happened to hear about a vacancy of a single room in the first floor and that i am here to see the place.

If looks could kill, i am sure i would have been burnt to ashes by the piercing glare he was giving. He was staring at me and i could feel his stares burn the centre of my forehead. While i am trying to comprehend the situation, he shouts out
'No muslims..only hindus...go go...shoo shoo'.
And i turn and look around half expecting to see a cow or some other four legged animal probably wearing something which resembles the 'burkha' worn by muslims.
I was pretty sure he is shooing some animal away..
and he still continues his shooing gestures repeating 'no muslims no muslims'.

It took me a while to realise that it was me he was shooing away....and by then it was too late..the wooden door had already been slam shut on my face and the figure which rudely shooed me away was safely protected behind it.
I stand bewilderd and shocked not realising what struck me.
And then it hit me..the constant glare at my forehead and his assumption that i was a muslim... i had no Bindi on my forehead.
Yes,I dont keep bindi's. If you ask me it's a big effort. For starters,it dint take me long to realise that my skin is allergic to whatever the glue that is used to stick the colorful paper onto my forehead.So i tried my hand at the liquid paint stuff. And this became an even more nightmarish experiment,because by mid day my face would look like some amteur artist tried making a art work which went haywire.The paint would have been smeared all over my face and i would end up looking more ridiculous than ever..so my stints with bindi's are very limited and done only on days when i know i can afford to be very very careful with the little colored paint on my forehead.

But i never realised that the absence of that one small dot could make a difference in getting a roof above my head or being shooed away like a wild animal!

Why? why does appearances and accesories have to make a person?
I wear toe rings and i love wearing them because i think they are cool and look nice..and umpteen times i have been asked where my husband is or which company he works for? Initially it never struck me why i was being posed with such questions? I simply presumed probably they are just taking a wild guess from my age..but its only later i realised that it was the one small ring on my toe which made all the difference. And from that day i resolved never to have it removed !!
I know plenty of married women who dont wear a toe ring or sindoor.. they are never asked questions..so why ask questions when its worn? If the absence dosent matter...then why should its presence matter????
Why does accesories make a religion? Isnt religion a person's comfort and not something which is imposed?

I repeat..i am not religious...i am just spiritual [copyright - shiff].
As long as its god you are calling,what difference does anything else make?
Sorry folks..no offence here.This incident has deeply shaken me up and hurt would be an understatement.

Sadly, as i stay dumbstruck in the lane and give one last look at the door which was rudely slammed onto my face, i see the small face of the girl peeping out through a window by the side and i think....

There's the person who will be slamming the door shut on my children's face too..............it never ends..its just passed on from one generation to the next......

And he still runs for the kite.................

well..this one's actually a continuation to one of my older posts 'Princess'.If you have already read that,you would be well aware of my obsession with regard to the topic on the followers of prophet mohammed.
'Princess' was the second book which managed to stir the tear glands in me.The first being 'A thousand splendid suns'.Like i always claimed,this Khalid Hosseini book has a very special place in my heart. Despite having the book in my ownership for over 2 months,i refrained from reading it till the minute i landed at the airport for my first journey to the Arab land.Then i plunged headlong into it and reading it while actually sitting amidst sweet scent of 'athar' and aabha clad women gave a very special meaning to the book.
And now a new addition to this list - The kite runner.
There are very few books which i have started and not finished, one being fountainhead, another - Godfather (unfortunately i saw the movie first and cudnt make myself read through the entire book !) and the third - the kite runner. Though the reason for this being entirely different. At the point where Amir meets Rahim in pakistan to talk about the bygone years,my eyes always welled up and i dint want to know what came of Hassan. Twice i tried and both times, i stopped reading at this point.
Yesterday evening after a very heated argument with Aks on my obsession in this regard, i was fully determined and sat down with the book at 10 PM. The same words, the same pomegranate tree..everything in the book was the same untill i got to their reunion. And i dint stop, despite the choking sensation ..i dint stop till i came to the last statement in the book, five minutes ago.
As every other book in this genre, this one has also taken away a part of me. A part of me which i had been obsessed with for as long as i can remember.
I am not religious, i am just spiritual.And such books always leave me lost.I fail to see the purpose,the message or maybe it's just that i dont want to see the purpose or the message. All i feel is a choking sensation draining the air out of me.
With each word i read in the book, my life's biggest dream just keeps making its purpose more and more clear to me. For those of you who know about it,No - its not the beauty or mystery which bades me for it.. but it's the lack of all these.

For you,a thousand times over................................

Ps: In a totally disoriented state of mind and yes, long weekends can be a drag if not spent at home ! :(