To mom, with love!

My first step, my first word, my first day at school, my first cycle ride… I remember nothing of these, but when she tells me about these with such fondness I can never express in words, it’s then I know that I can never love anybody as much as I love her. And I also then quite surely know that whatever happens she will never stop loving me.

It’s her arms I run to when everything seems so lost, it’s her advice I seek for when in doubt, it’s her comfort I crave for when in pain, it’s her presence I look for when I celebrate, and it’s simply her who comes first for all my firsts. It’s she who comes first to my mind when I am away from home and it’s her I see first when I am at home. When I scream and yell, it’s she who knows when to be quiet and she who knows when to tell me to shut up and sit quiet.

She knows when to hold me back and when to let go of me. She made me see the world through her eyes, tell the good from bad, teach humor and humility. Every prayer I say for myself I know is doubled because I know she prays for the same. With every birthday of mine, she beams and gushes, says I know you grow bigger and older, but you will always be my little child. And when there is only a single piece left of my favorite pie she says, I never quite enjoyed eating a pie.

She made me believe in fairy tales, not for the reason that they told us dragons exist but because she made me realize that dragons could be defeated. She taught me how to dream and work for those dreams, but she also taught me to dream without the condition for them to materialize, coz she said the joys of the world lies not in what exists but what we think can exist. Simply put, she taught me how to live!

I believe I don’t say this as often as I should, but I love you mom, and I will forever.

Hope, happiness and survivor-ship

Had written this way back in 2007.. just dug it out when I was searching for another piece and figured that sometimes all it takes to smile is a warm memory!

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When all hope seems lost, do you turn to the skies and pray with your heart, believing that the almighty will lead you through darkness, into a new dawn? I always believed in it, and always will do so. But at times you realize you dont have to look so far, for hope, happiness and survivor-ship, you realize are just round the corner. Crane your neck or break out of your thoughts and you might just realize that there is a story of survival almost everywhere.

I was out for lunch with a friend at one the pizza hut joints when my friend realized she had to rush as her mentor at Moto was waiting for her. Not wanting to dash off with my meal too, I hung back to eat peacefully and read my book (I was reading The Simoquin Prophecies and was in no hurry to finish it! A must read!), and being the perpetual slow-eater, was earning dirty looks from the waiter who was waiting to clear my table off. Wanting to order masala lemonade, I waited for another waiter to pass by, so that I wouldn’t have to lock horns with the grumpy one. Soon a young waitress swished past, and I almost screamed out for my lemonade, startling the poor girl! She took the order, dutifully recited their overused line “Your lemonade will be ready in 6 minutes” and vanished behind the counter. When she had returned with the drink, I was talking over the phone and was arguing about the pronunciation of penchant with someone, with me pronouncing it as pen-chant and the other one arguing that it was pahn-shahn. I hung up the phone as soon as the drink had arrived, not wanting to continue the call further, sensing that I was fighting a losing battle. The waitress was clearing the table and I gave her my customary colgate smile for the drink and continued with my book.

The girl was about to leave when I remembered I had to get a pizza for my intern-mates at Moto. I had no idea about non-veg pizzas and was forced to ask the waitress to suggest a good one. She suggested the day’s special, chicken supreme or something and again recited her customary “Your order will be ready in 14 minutes”. I was actually surprised by her impeccable English and found it a little odd that she was working in a fast-food place. She could have just as easily gotten into a BPO and would be earning a more handsome pay. When she had come back to clear off the plate, I complimented her, saying that she had very good English and told her she could try for a job at any call-center. I thought I was going to surprise her by my comments, but it turned out it was my chance to be surprised. She replied back saying she actually worked at a BPO and was working at the joint for some extra money. By now I was in a chatty mood and didn’t want to go without hearing the full story. I started my usual rapid-fire question round and understood that she was working to fund her education. She wanted to pursue masters in textile designing at NIFT, but hadn’t got the permission from her parents to get into that field, as according to them it wasn’t respectable enough! So she started working at the BPO, and without their knowledge also did some hours at the food joint. She was saving for a rainy day, she said, in case she clears the NIFT entrance and her parents refuse to fund her, she would go there by herself! I was rather surprised and impressed and told her how amazing it was, since here was a girl who had done her degree from some neighbourhood college and still had the confidence to pursue her dreams. And I thought you need to go to a college of repute to actually get that confidence! Silly me!

She said, “As long as you are fighting for it, it is fun. The moment you give in, all of that fun simply vanishes, leaving a constant drone in your head” and she disappeared behind her counter. She suddenly re-appeared and said "You actually do pronounce penchant as pahn-shahn" leaving a pleasantly surprised me! She had given me her number, asking me to let her know if there was some position in Moto for which she could apply to. I have since lost that number and even forgotten her face, but I can never forget that kick-ass attitude she had to fight for what she wanted. She was working two jobs and was even ready to oppose her parents, to actually do what she liked. Surely, Indian woman has come of age! Amen.

Pitter patter raindrops, I'm wet through!

There is something about the monsoons which makes it so special.. the first shower, the fragnance of earth when its soaked, people running helter skelter or just the raindrops falling on my head! Monsoon and winters definitely play a prominent role in our Indian lives.. what with all the romances in the hindi movies starting with the heroine soaked to the skin and the hero falling instantly for her, the wedding season rushes, the muffled voices due to mufflers and most of all the garam garam tomato soup (this is classic to my life ;) )

Monsoon brings back with it loads of memories, past and pleasant. Like the washing gushing into our house when we stayed in the cellar portion back when we were young, finding the school unexpectedly closed due to the buses not being able to make it through the whirlpools at the junctions, the blissful return journey home and ofcourse, the hot hot pakodis mom used to make, or simply looking out of my window during the tortuous 11th-12th class.

But the most amazing memories are those i have of monsoon and winters in my college. It took an year for me to adjust to the climate swings classic to the deserts.. i had heard of it, but you have to experience it to believe it completely. Summers were horrible, and so were peak winters, but monsoon and onset of winter was just bliss! Curling up under the four layered quilt setup, absolute laziness to get up and get started, the yummy hot french toast made by raju bhaiyaji, the early morning fog and us pedalling away covered from head to toe in layers and layers of clothing we could possibly find in our cupboards! Even the taliban can take a lesson from us about how best to cover every inch of your body! Monsoon magic is incomplete with the quintessential romance of couples.. the waiting room outside the hostel would be
brimming with couples cosying up. The fire chowkidaarji would lit up would be a milieu of people, with none willing to budge from there, lest the warmth would be lost and the moment too. And ohh yes, the hot chocolate at chimpoos!! Slurp slurp slurp we would go, with a chocolate disliker like me also relishing the taste.

Pilani truly was natures haven.. in all senses, there would be innumerable number of insects, weird looking ones, weird sounding ones, and weirdly biting ones! I had complained about it incessently to my mom about how that place was uninhabitable and how i was longing to come back to my well made room. Now looking back, i realize that its those same very things which bring a
smile on my face.

Well now i guess i am pretty convinced that monsoon makes you nostalgic... so i tried my best to recreate some of those moments.. so far all i could do was hang out in my balcony, plead mom into allowing me to put the chair outside and cosying up with a book and some garam chai. But deep in my heart, i know i can never bring the innocence of the magical land into my thick house.. so here cheers to the life like it was, and to the life that hopefully will be as great as that one!