GROWING UP!!! Part - III

When I was a little kid all I read was Enid Blytons and Nancy Drews. My school’s library would overflow with them. Whenever I would get angry at my parents I would sit in my room and think about ways to make them feel sorry for whatever crime they had just committed. It was stuff like going on a hunger strike or crying till my eyes had swollen or refusing to come out of the room.

None of these plans came to fruition ever L , because I love myself way too much. Also, I can’t cry for that long. I love to eat, especially when my mother is cooking. And she would make sure she made her-bests whenever I was angry so that I could never say a NO. J

So then I would plan on running away. I was never sure where I would go, to the neighbor’s house?!?! Well they had good chocolates. To my BFF’s house?!?! It would be the world’s longest slumber because the kids in Enid Blyton’s novels were planning to join a circus and while I liked animals then, I was told by Tahir that all opening jobs in the circus involved cleaning the **** and there was no way I was going to do that. K

So one day my parents finally went too far, I don’t remember now what they actually did but they probably refused to buy me a fairy frock or something equally heinous coz that’s what passes for mean and nasty around the Tonde household, and I decided it’s about time!!!

I took with me a torch for if it ever got dark, my sweatshirt, a book, saved pocket money of Rs. 20 and two bars of 5-star. I left one 5-star behind for my sister who had not done anything to piss me off in the last 3 days and thus deserved it. By the way I am a very generous person. J Thus burdened, I made it all the way across Sunita Market, within the sight of the main gates of Navy Nagar. I realized the only thing I was supposed to do was walk, but how long?!?!?

Reading so much of English Novels, the thing that came to my mind then was, every important scene in Pride and Prejudice involved Elizabeth and Darcy walking in some way, she finds out about his treachery while walking in the woods and returns home to tell him to go away, then they meet again while she’s walking around his estate, and finally the confession of  their feelings for each other happens when they’re on a walk. Together!!!

That’s just an example from the great works of romance :) think of anybody else you like, from Tolkien to Shakespeare to J.K.Rowling.  Englishmen and Englishwomen novelists will eventually arrive at a point in the story when nothing will do for them but to take a walk. Think over it!!

As for little Indian me, I made my way over to my favorite BPT gardens in one of the inner blocks of Colaba and settled myself with my book, ate my chocolates and went back home to be greeted with good-natured scolding and cries of relief.

Win… J

Winners don’t do different things, they do things differently!!!! ;)

GROWING UP!!! Part- II

Here’s what happens when your parents let you join a Book Club at the age 12. K

Stranger at the Club: What are you reading?
Child Heena: Gone with the Wind. Have you read this?
Stranger at the Club: What?!
Child Heena: I don’ understand all of it but I think it’s good. The drama is really out of this world. I think I’m addicted to it. In fact, I’m going to watch the movie.
Stranger at the Club: Stop it immediately or else you’ll lose your childish innocence soon!
Child Heena: L When I grow up, nobody’s going to tell me what I can read and what I cannot.

Teacher: What are you reading?
Child Heena: The Giant Book of Murder. It’s superb.
Teacher: What?!
Child Heena: See, it has sections for axe murderers, serial killers and prisoners. I am totally loving it for the information that I will introduce into my English school essays to blow out my competition!!
Teacher: Stop it now! Or you will grow up into a psychopath.
Child Heena: *groans* When I grow up, nobody will tell me what I can read

Preeti: What are you reading?
Teen Heena: The Wheel of Time. It is super splendid!
Preeti: What?!
Teen Heena: Yeah, I’m really “into” fantasy fiction! It’s like science fiction but better! There are parallel universes and alternate realities and magic and strange creatures and ..
Preeti: Stop!
Teen Heena: Why?
Preeti: It sounds stupid and I’ve never read any. Here, read “Mills and Boon” like everybody else.
Teen Heena: L When I grow up, nobody’s going to tell me what I can read and what I cannot.

Lynnet: What are you reading?
Present Day Heena: Young Adult fiction. It’s awesome.
Lynnet: What?!
Present Day Heena: I was too busy reading regular adult stuff when I was a kid but now I find that there’s a lot of Young Adult fiction that is really good. So now I’m catching up with it.
Lynnet: Thats awful, have some shame. You’re reading stuff meant for children.
Present Day Heena: L When I grow up…

Am I suppose to feel inferior about it? Or should I cover  The Hunger Games with a newspaper the way some women who read sexy romances on the train do? What about graphic novels? Are those ubercool? Or is everybody nosing at me for choosing to read a comic like a little baby?

If only I read much less and monitored the reactions of random strangers to my choice of reading more, I bet I’d have the answers to all those questions.

GROWING UP!!! Part- I

I am very strict when it comes to my own younger sis. Many a times she has to undergo the brunt of my conservatism. I admit, m fairly conservative when it comes to things like children and their upbringing. I don’t have any but this doesn’t stop me from having opinions. It’s the last remnant of my conservative childhood and I hang on to it, because nothing I’ve seen out there has really challenged it or made me even come close to changing my mind. :)

In my early teens, I wanted to get my eyes brows plucked the moment I saw a classmate sashay down the hall in her short skirt and that arched eye-look at age thirteen. I had the skirt, but I wanted those eyes courtesy eyebrow-plucking. Those clean face and big eyes that looked so very adult. :)

“I think m ready!!” I told my mom as she got her pedicure done at the salon. :)

“Girls are doing it very early these days” said the chinky lady who usually did hers. My mum looked at me and laughed and laughed. When she finally caught her breath, she said: “Chee!!!!” EOD. :(

I had graduated high school much before my mom would let me pluck anything at all. And when I got my eyebrows done for the first time at age eighteen for my cousin’s wedding, it was a family affair with one of my Kakis standing over the poor parlor assistant’s shoulder and whispering “Don’t cry, don’t cry!!!” as my eyes watered. :(

Of course, my mum being a good mother, we did have talks about personal grooming. From manicure to pedicures, cosmetics to accessories, the best part of growing up with a mom and hoards of aunts is that there’s no dearth of advice on anything, and everything from acne treatments to what is the correct way to apply an eye liner. :)

And we eventually talked about growing up – but the emphasis was always on hygiene, not sexuality. In our house, grooming wasn’t just about being attractive. Every summer my Ajji (my mom’s grand mom) would repeatedly remind me that good grooming is about having pride in oneself. You take care of yourself because you deserve it, not to impress other people.

“This is not the way for good girls to walk around the house before the evening lamp is lit” my Ajji would say “You should first wash your face, then powder, put on a kajal-bindi, comb and tie your hair neatly, change into freshly pressed clothes, and then come to the DEVARA to see the lamp. That’s what a gharachi-mulgi looks like”.

There was a time in my teens, when I totally refused to comb my hair, and become a Scary Spice (I totally adored Spice Girls), nobody pulled me down and forcibly combed my hair or oiled my hair, nor did anyone force me to change my style. At the time, I thought it a victory over the Establishment ;) Later I was quite puzzled because the Establishment at our home is quite capable of breaking the backs of ‘little guerrilla’ efforts like that. L

It took me years before I realized that part of the lesson my Ajji and mom were trying to teach me was that, self-worth is something only you can determine for yourself. If they’d forced me to look presentable according to their stringent standards, as they well could have at the time, it would only have appeased their sense of worth, their image of a family member, not mine.

They had let me be ME. More importantly they instilled the values of “self-confidence” much before the invention of such classes around my house. My Ajji is not with me today, but I miss her immensely. She never got down to bashing us up and making us understand. She always had her ways of making us learn life’s lessons. My poor-yet-to-be-born-kids, will have an Infantry-Drill with me around for sure ;)

To all the nice girls i know..

This is for that time when u left 40 urgent messages on his cell phone, and when you called him back he never answered.

 

This is also for that time you didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, you dragged yourself to a party where you knew nobody, the place was awful, and he flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for his ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.

 

The nice girls don’t often get credit where credit is due. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many guys are just illogical and manipulative .

 

Many of them claim they just want to date a nice girl, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, she’s too nice to date” or “she would be a good girlfriend but she’s not for me” or “she already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask her out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable women in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date female friends to sympathize and apologize for the women that are jerks.

 

There are definitely many guys who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice girls, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those guys, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

 

So, until those guys are found, I propose a toast to all the nice girls. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the grocery store, your party escorting services, your chauffering , your multi-tasking and your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless heroine, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.

 

 

My first love…..

I am very sure that this question has been unanswered or over-answered a lot many times to my pals whenever they tried to dig out the truth .. even after bribing me into eating ice creams or dinner/lunch promises at my favourite restro’s and also almost getting me MnBs i haven’t divulged the details. So i think now its time to do so.. to talk abt HIM… in the sense the one who’s always accompanied me to school, college, malls, ricks, buses, trains, long journeys, to Mt.Everest and Mt.Katao, and to every possible place i have been to is very difficult. He’s been the motivation when i was down, he was the humour when i wanted to laugh out loud, he was my strength when i wanted to quit, he was my knight in shining armour when i wanted to be loved, he was everything i ever needed jus packed all the beauties of life in my hand…it was the BOOKS that i read.

Trust me on this, I could have never been able to stand on feet ever had i not had my bestest and longest pals(read- BOOKS) of years with me. They stood with me through thick and thin. Come rain or sun, i always had him for my company. He never for once said what i never wanted to hear. Even at the most odd hours when i wanted to hear him he would simply let me read him.

The association started when PD would dog-ear few books and give it to me to read so that i become more creative in writing. Obviously i am still nowhere near her but then i believe i have started putting in my ideas clearly. I would read at Strand bookstall or pick up books from the ever so famous churchgate bylanes  to satiate my hunger. Finally i came across the Amar-ki-dukaan(as famously called by Meds) which had superb collection of all sorts of books. I would take almost 4-5 of them with me and finish off in jus a day or two.

My train pals would wonder how I would finish it but then I was in LoVe.. and Thank God for that.
How can i forget Sam who met me coz of Books.. while i was searching for an ultimate chicklit we both picked up the same book and hence started the well kept secret of my life.. The Book Club of Ladies.. I was happy back then.. like minded ladies getting together for book reading sessions.. its was fantabulous.. I then realised that i had a feminist streak in me when we would end up discussing a lot of hot topic prevalent then.. i met smita the lady with a golden arm.. she only knew how to give others/society.. i worked with her for few NGO projects and then helped her create a course material for the under privileged.. it was one of the best days of my life to do something without anyone ever knowing what i was upto.. prolly even i dinno what i was doing then, but today when i look back i feel nice that i could meet people so intellectual i could only dream of coz of HIM.. so back to him.. its jus a small boring blog to thank HIM.. for the life i had, i have and i will have, for almost everything.. and i hope no one replaces HIM..


“A book is the only place in which you can examine a fragile thought without breaking it, or explore an explosive idea without the fear that it will go off in your face.  It is one of the few havens remaining where a man’s mind can get both provocation and privacy.”
Edward P. Morgan

Things women do say about guys and aren’t afraid to say it….

1. Whenever possible, please try to say whatever you have to say after the movie.

2. The next time you and your buddies joke about armed women in combat, take a poll to see which of you successfully aim at the toilet bowl.

3. If the truth hurts, ask us those ego-sensitive questions on your payday.

4. Please don’t drive when you’re not driving.

5. The next time you joke about female drivers, research the number of accidents caused by rubbernecking at miniskirts.

6. If only women gossip, how do you and your buddies keep track of “who’s easy?”

7. Stop telling us that most male actors are gay: WE DON’T CARE!

8. Start parting and combing your hair to one side early in life: You’ll never see the island coming.

9. Your contributions to your child should go above and beyond that chromosome you unselfishly sacrificed.

10. Eye contact is best established above our shoulder level.

11. You can tell us that we are beautiful even without ogling other women.

12. Anything we said 6 or 8 months ago is inadmissible in an argument. All comments become null and void after 7 days.

13. No don’t cut your hair. Ever.

14. If you ask a question you don’t want an answer to, expect an answer you don’t want to hear.

15. Don’t ask me what I’m thinking about unless you are prepared to discuss

16. Foreign films are best left to foreigners.

17. If you don’t allow us to wear Victoria’s Secret, don’t expect us to act like “Kyunki saas bhi kabhi bahu thi”  bahus. Period.

18. Consider Shopping a mini-vacation. We need it, just like you do.


***Men are like bike helmets. Handy in an emergency, but otherwise they just look silly.***

A WALK TO REMEMBER..

The woods were lovely dark and deep. Walking slowly beside her, in the damp mud road, was her husband whom she barely knew. He was very relaxed, happily watching a group of kids play at a distance. Her “mehndi” was still dark and smelling fresh, reminding of the excitements and tension 2 days back. “It cant work this way mom… please stop this”, she kept telling her mother till the last moment,who wouldnt listen but carry on with beautifying her. She had been crying all night and her make-up had to be patched up twice or thrice to hide her awkwardly swollen face.

It was too late now. She had to get married “NOW” to the guy. The guy whom she had seen once and talked thrice. The guy about whom she knew nothing at all but for his name and work. Everything happened in a hurry and everything was over before she could breathe again… here was she with this guy, all alone in this hill station… how can anybody send their daughter such a long distance with a stranger???

“Hey look at that….!!!” he shouted in excitement. She shrugged and looked where his finger pointed… Bright colored balloons dotted the sky. Children were jumping in joy and he seemed to be completely absorbed into it… colors are always exciting… but not now. She was not with her friends, not with her team mates, not even with her parents. This was not a 3 day tour or team building trip. This was her life and she has been forced to start off with this person.

Loneliness and discomfort with this stranger was sickening. She looked at him in wonder. Does he even realize that he has married me? Does he understand that he has to love me, protect me, care for me, a new girl, a stranger, all his life?

The marriage morning started like a daylight nightmare for her. The first time in life she felt she should have fallen in love and then married somebody. Some man who she would have felt more comfortable with, someone whom she could call by name and introduce to friends, someone whom she could trust. But marriage morning was obviously not the time to think all this. Her parents would never have said “no” if she had declared that she was in love. But she was not emotionally attached to anybody she met,especially guys.

She was very friendly,playing,teasing, but never had second thoughts for any man around her. That brought the entire responsibility of looking for a groom on her parents’ shoulders. Her parents had a very bad time with this entire process. They started their groom search with unending “&” operation. The concatenation of  ”Horoscope matching” & “Decent family” & “Good looking” & “Good pay” & ”same cast” & so on… that always gave 0 output. Now after all that 8 months hunt,they were not ready to hear her “ifs” and “buts” for this ’good guy’. She had explained to her father. She does not feel anything for this person. He is nothing more to me than any other software professional. Like list of names she sees in the chat rooms. Distant and usual…Her father asked her to talk to him and even meet him and discuss their likes and dislikes.

That meeting started like the induction programme self introduction and ended like a 3 hour seminar.She was waiting to get away from that place.”So did you talk to him?”. “Yes”. “Was he polite and decent”. “Yes”. “Oh he got that special flavoured tri-color icecream…!!!”. OK. All her family and relatives discussed… She was given the chance to “understand her life partner” and that they have understood each other “well” and she is ready for the marriage now.

All arrangements geared up and it was 24 days after her first meeting that she was getting married to her man… perfect match as everybody else described. Marriage hall was full with excited people, kids got the chance to play, ladies got the chance to wear the silk saree. The smell of rose and jasmine filled the hall. Different poses for the photographer and atrificial smiles for the videos. The moment he had tied the sacred thread was unexplainable vaccum in the head. It was over. She was his wife. Accepted by the society and law. Her proud parents were relaxed. This was their duty they had been planning to fulfill since she was born. All this crowd will fade away, leaving her to explore her new world…

He pulled her hand gently to sit on the stone bench. The bench was wet and the chillness was indeed enjoyable. “So what are you thinking about?”… that was an unexpected ball. Should she reply? Should she be silent? She remembered the two hour presentation she had taken last month. Bold and confident, she kept answering all the queries with a broad smile. Now she remained silent. “Do you know honey… I was not for this marriage too…”  Oh my God… what did i hear??? Did HE tell that or did i think aloud? What does he mean? Didn’t he like me? Was he forced into this? He must have noticed the quizzical look on my face…with a gentle smile he continued… “I wanted to look for a girl myself, buy her everything, care for her, argue with her, laugh and cry with her, then get married to her… Anything otherwise would be a drama. Traditional drama!! and i was not for it anytime. But my love for my work and also my stress would not give me time and mind to search that girl…When your parents talked to me 2 weeks before our marriage, about your fear of getting married, to a stranger, i could completely understand your mind. I could see myself in you and that was the moment i decided i will marry you. There was no time to prove myself to you, make you trust me, everything happened in a hurry. But there was this entire life before me, to please you, to love you, to make you trust me. This is no less than what i had dreamt, the girl i was waiting for, is you.

Now tell me… will you love me???”  Tears came down her cheek. Her parents had done more than their duty. They had found her the perfect guy. Thank you Mom!!! Thank you Dad!!! His question remained unanswered yet both knew the answer…