5 Things That Make me Cry

 1. Memories (some hurt, some soothe and some can never be replicated again).

2. Demise of a specially loved one.

3. Being away from my parents.

4. A truly bliss filled moment.

5. Listening to my favorite songs by my dearest Dasettan. (Dr. K.J Yeshudas).

I've shared mine. Tell me yours.

A Book Review: Trust Me by Rajashree

For years now, I've been hooked to new Indian writers. As an avid reader, I am amazed by the variety and intensity of young Indian writing. The moment I spot a new writer's book, I am tempted to buy it because I love Indian writers and their stories. No two stories or novels are ever the same even when topics continue to revolve around family drama or coming-of-age situations.

Rajashree's debut novel Trust Me had me hooked from start to finish and not because 'trust me' in Polish means 'F..k you'! New knowledge from this book that was almost funny because the way the author presented this nugget of information. 

I completed the book greedily in a day. Of course, it is a romantic comedy about Paro, a protagonist who struggles to survive in Mumbai. She is no beauty but she has brains. She is on the 'healthier' side but she is tempted easily by tasty food though she always vows to go on a crash diet and slim down. She falls for a handsome man and is heartbroken when he cheats her and forces her to abort her baby. Her dreams of happy marriage turn to ashes. Bitter and angry, she is comforted by her boss, who takes her out to dinner and then makes a pass at her. It makes her feel worse that men see her in this way and she begins to hate and distrust all men. Her two staunch friends, Kavita and Saira, tell her from their own bitter affairs with men that 'all men are bastards' and they take comfort from this snippet of enlightenment.


What I enjoyed about the story was I could relate to it. I have known friends who've gone through similar situations. So many conversations between the protagonist and her friends sound very familiar to my ears. There's no serious literary treasure in this book but it is a sure entertainer that will make you smile, hope and cry with Paro. 


To make ends meet, she joins as an assistant in a Bollywood commercial flick. She is shocked how superstars behave to director Jumboji and to the producer. The larger-than-life image angers her but she works hard on the sets. She realizes that Mrignayani, the heroine, sleeps around to get plum roles. She realizes that actors can pick and choose actresses like books off a shelf. Relationships have no meaning in the make believe, tinsel world. And that is exactly why she tries hard to resist Rahul, a struggling actor who is poised for stardom. He woos her from day one but she thinks he is just another dumb actor trying his luck with a girl on the set. She continues pining for Karan, her first love. She gets to know Rahul well and they even agree to have an affair but slowly, her feelings towards him change. She feels softer towards him though her best friends advise her to stay away from actors. She learns the hard way again that men are bastards.


The rest is even more interesting to read. I loved the way it didn't get tragic or read like a sob story for Paro. Like many girls, she too learns to find joy and strength from within. She battles her emotions and finds happiness at last. The best thing was the way the author made it so entertaining and interesting for the reader, without using any jargon or preachy dialogues.


If I had to sum up this book in one word, I'd say "Fun"

Book Review: The Immigrant by Manju Kapur

A lot of readers have talked about Manju Kapur's novel, The Immigrant with mixed reactions. In fact, I have always loved her books, right from Difficult Daughters to Home. She is a brilliant yet down-to-earth writer who writes about an ordinary middle class Indian woman's life with a crystal clear narrative and insightful perception.

Indian Mothers Like to Believe Their Daughters are Virgins

The story of The Immigrant is set in the '70s and revolves around a 30 year old protagonist, Nina, who is unmarried and begins with her lonely life as a lecturer in Delhi's Miranda House college. Her mother, like most Indian mothers, lives to see her daughter settle into a happy, comfortable marriage. Again, like most Indian mothers, she believes her daughter is innocent, inexperienced in the ways of men and a sure virgin who will be a prize catch for a well-to-do, eligible bachelor.

Marriage is an Eye Opener

Nina's life takes a significant turn when her marriage is arranged with Ananda, a slightly pompous NRI dentist who lives in Canada. You can feel sorry for him at times because he definitely suffers from several complexes which makes him behave the way he does.

Till they are engaged, he is trying to impress her like any normal guy. He takes her out for dinner, likes the fact that she seems traditional and untouched by any other men and feels satisfied with his choice.

The couple have a short honeymoon in the Oberoi Hotel which makes Nina and her mother marvel at how far they have come from a middle class life to something more high class. I can connect to these nuances because we see it all around us.

Loneliness Worsens After Marriage

The Indian bride in Canada is a phase where the butterfly begins to lose color. There is loneliness and a feeling of being uprooted from the place of origin and only a husband to talk with. We all know what that entails, don't we?

Well, Nina's married life feels lifeless to her from the moment she is in Canada. The reason you don't feel very sorry for her is because she hardly comes across as a caring, loving person you want to protect.

Is the new Indian Bride demanding too much and giving too little in marriage?

What I would have liked was a portrayal of Ananda that was more objective because whatever we read and draw our conclusions about him are based on Nina's perception. Although sexual anxiety is rarely delved into in such detail by Indian writers, The Immigrant does so in a forceful fashion that somehow disconnects the reader.

In fact, I felt sorry for Ananda because he was trying so hard to overcome his sexual limitations to impress his wife, Nina. She comes across as some one who sets high expectations for others and hardly makes the effort to be warm or considerate to anyonelse. There is not even a single dialogue or instance in the story where Nina makes an extra effort to be caring or loving to her husband.

Ananda has his flaws but he tries so hard to make her feel comfortable in Canada. Although her teaching degree is useless in Canada, he tries to find her a job so that she doesn't feel so lonely and moody all the time.  He is keen to have a child while she is very cold and calculating about everything.

When she makes changes in her life, she does it with a feeling of compulsion and revulsion to Ananda. When Ananda cooks for her, she does not appreciate the effort. When she is cooking, she feels it is something out of the world that needs accolades. She seems so determined to be indifferent to Ananda's efforts. Of course, he wants to show off but he is also trying hard to please her.

Also, I cannot understand why she does not see it as an opportunity to learn and experience things differently in a new place. Why should the author manifest the protagonist as some one who is so cynical about everything in life? I really have no clue.

Sex on the Sly

To me, the worst thing is that Nina justifies her affair with another man. She taunts Ananda for his illicit relationship but she discreetly continues her own without any guilt. She just doesn't want her husband to find out that she was unfaithful, so she covers her tracks well.

Of course, we are a very open society now or so I hear everywhere around me. Well, okay, fine, I won't jump to conclusions and go on to say she is a fallen woman but puhleeez, doesn't she have any emotions that a normal Indian woman has? Doesn't she want a happy life with her husband? Does she make an effort to even understand her husband or his family? Does she think of her old mother who is waiting to hear that she is expecting a baby? Does she care about anyone but herself?

If the author's purpose was to depict an insecure, lonely Indian woman's transition into an equally boring, lonely married life, she fails to convince me as a reader. I do not understand or appreciate that Nina finds true evolution by hating the man whom she agreed to marry and has sex with another man because she finds no pleasure or happiness with her husband.

Is an Indian woman's independence based on her freedom to cheat and be unfaithful to her spouse? Does this represent an Indian woman's quest for freedom of expression?

If it is, I am sad to know it. I would have preferred living without such openness. Tell me, what do you think? Do you have any real life stories, anecdotes or even books that explored these issues that you want to share with me?

I'd love to know.

Book Review Reccos
You may also read book reviews about Learning to Honor Death and Silver Bells.

Do you have a List? I don't!

The wise people in my life have always advised me to be organized and making lists is the best way to get started.

However, I don’t make lists and when I do, I lose them somewhere and end up spending more time and effort searching for it and finally, it leads me to tears.

Before marriage, I never understood the value of time. My father always told me how important it is to make use of time and his formula was  'Time is God' but I didn't understand it. Of course, watching MTV and reading books and wandering out with friends is how I spent most of my time.

Now, I realize that if I had been more time-conscious, there is so much that I would love to do with my time. I have a lot of shortcomings as a person but I am very proud about the fact that I work very hard at everything that I do and I utilize my every hour of every day and extract the best out of it.

A normal day is when I just get very busy, going from task to task of what seems important, listening to my inner voice. I try and solve queries that come my way but it takes time and I don't realize that i have spent considerable time with X till its time to get back and focus on my deliverables.

There are meetings, updates, client communication and so many other little bullets that come my way during the day. Oh, I better not forget, I have to make routine calls to my home to check if my three year old has reached from playschool and whether he had a good day. There are times when I get paranoid if he is late. I imagine all kinds of terrible things happening to him on the way and then I just can't focus on my work till I have confirmed he is at home, safe and happy. There are times when there is a family member who is planning a visit so you need to make some calls and find out the time of arrival, things like that, or sometimes, you need to make a courtesy call to a family member who is hospitalized.

Busy as we are, we hardly get to meet relatives but the least we can do is to call and make sure things are ok and if not, offer moral support. In my case, all my relatives are in Kerala so I hardly get to meet them as often as I want to. 

Late evening, as soon as I am at home, I have endless chores to do that can't be listed. I have personal calls to make. I need to check if Adi's homework is due for the next day and whether he has done something about it. 

If not, I have to sit with him and help him complete it, which can take ages! We take sweet time to finish homework, you see, because there are endless questions to answer. I find it easier to answer questions from my team in office than from Adi. 

Well, we do lots of fun stuff too on the spur of the moment. Sometimes, I join him just like that to do some coloring. I like to give him feedback about his style too, not that I am a coloring expert, but i guess you get the drift. 

Other times, we read through his favorite Thumb Thumb Thambi Flower book which he loves me to read out over and over again, followed by the "What Shall I make?" book which we nicknamed as our 'chapati' book. The story is all about Neeraj's mom who kneads dough and he makes different shapes out of it like first a rope, then a snake, then rat and more deadly stuff like LION! The fun part is that I have to roar like a lion till my voice is about to break!

Tell me whether you have a list and how your normal day is spent. Do you want to schedule things differently? How prepared are you in case of an unexpected event? Would you like to talk about it?

Please do. At least, I can learn from it.

What's Your Favorite Cake?

Khan Market is one of my favorite places, not only because it is a place where stories can be plucked from people's conversations and mannerisms but this is an amazing hub for food lovers. You can find all types of food that is sure to appeal to your sense of taste.

Here is a yummy walnut cake from Sugar&Spice. From the moment you enter their store, you will find yourself bumping into either foreigners looking through different types of cheese (Belgian, French, Danish etc) or Indians who pretend to be just like the foreigners wearing those outrageously expensive 'phoren' perfumes and even sounding like them! God, when will we learn to respect being us, I really don't know, but I couldn't resist this walnut cake. It has a slightly nutty flavors and isn't all that sweet but if you like tasting exotic stuff, this one's for you so have it!

What's your favorite cake? Do you make it or buy it?


Tell me all about it.

Saree Woes 2

Our earlier discussion on Saree Woes really perked up my spirits. A big thanks to all of you for pepping me up.

Okay, here's the good news. There was an unexpected late night party that I had to attend in Gurgaon. To be honest, I haven't had the time or energy to attend any such parties after Adi was born. I was sure I wouldn't have the confidence to make conversation with the glitterati, let alone feel confident to carry off wearing a saree. This is one of those parties where you have to be dressed very formally.

Well, at the end of a working woman's day, you hardly feel ready to attend one of these parties looking like a moron, right? So, with very little preparation and very few hours left, I called on all the gods in Heaven to help me look a little younger and prettier since I don't have the magic to look young all on my own.

Although I was tempted to wear one of my awesome Kancheevaram treasures, I knew it would be very difficult to drape it without any help. And after the pep talk you all gave me, I was determined to accomplish it on my own.

So, I chose a very elegant silk saree - green colored - and it had lovely floral work on its pallu in shades of light green and white. No bling, no glitter but it is very chic. I managed to drape it pretty well because it was light, flowing silk and didn't weigh me down. I am not one of those women who look dazzling and pretty so I decided a little bit of effort is required to look good at a party like this. So, for the first time, I wore light green eye shadow on my lower eyelids, then put black kohl over it and same with the upper eyelid. It was done very lightly as my hands were really shaking with no confidence. The effect was pretty good.

A lovely gold necklace and two simple gold bangles were my only accessories. To complete the look, there was a simple ethnic gold and red colored bindi. Well, there was no time to admire myself as I had to rush to leave.

Mr. H (for husband) was looking very young and dashing. Dressed in a black suit, crisp white shirt and a very supercool tie with shades of black and navy blue, he looked like a dream come true and I wondered if people will call me 'Aunty' at the party!

So, together, we dashed to the party. When I reached there, I saw lots of beautifully dressed women. They all wore sarees and looked perfectly made up. I felt glad I had made the effort, too. I hoped no one would mind that I hadn't painted my toes. Well, I never like doing that so I didnt bother with it. Besides, I end up splattering most of the polish outside the nails!

At the party, some ladies wore lots of accessories and bling, glittering sarees. Strangely, I was comfortable with myself. I noticed that I felt good about the way I had dressed and that gave me a lot of confidence. I didn't need anyone to tell me I was glowing because I knew I really was.

There were soft drinks being served, goblets of red wine and white wine and an array of snacks that were being served by uniformed, smartly dressed bearers. The scent of expensive perfumes filled the air. Conversations hummed, softly, around us. 

It boosted my confidence that I got a lot of admiring glances and compliments.I have been walking around like a complete plain Jane for years now, not bothering to look or feel young when going out. Making that effort takes up time and I never have enough time on hand but for this party, I found time, made the effort and felt so good about staying confident and very ladylike in the saree.

And why ami stating this here?

Because I took the comments of each one of you with a lot of enthusiasm and seriousness, reflected on each and that really pepped me up to make that effort for myself.

I felt buoyed up by all of you and that reflected in my actions too.

Thank you, all, for helping me feel that yes, I can do it - I can be a lady:)

I Give Good Blog' Award

Thank you, Baba, for showing me love and bringing such light into my life as always.

A heartfelt thanks to Prerna for giving me this meaningful award. It feels so good to have it from such a wonderful writer like her. It means so much to me. Thank you, Prerna.

Let's roll the red carpet out for these four awesome bloggers to whom I pass on the 'I Give Good Blog' award.

Harsha

Grace

IceMan

Ramesh

Winners, keep working very hard with what you love doing through your blogs.  Winners, go ahead and display the award logos proudly on your blogs. Feel the pride and joy of having it and hey, don't forget to link me on it:)

And yes, before I forget, you've got to nominate four other blogs for this Award and pass the baton to them. So, what are you waiting for?

CELEBRATE!

Saree Woes

Diwali 2009 is the time when I made my millionth Sari Vow. Okay, it's crazy but the truth is I love wearing sarees. I've got an amazing collection of exquisite kancheevarams in my wardrobe. I treasure each one of them.

Here's my confession: The art of wearing a saree and most importantly, walking gracefully in it doesn't come to me. I admire generations of Indian women who have and continue to do this almost effortlessly. In typical South Indian mode, I make my woes clear below:

On the day of my marriage, I wore the saree and walked like a clumsy duck. I cringe every time I see the video. It embarrasses me that I can't carry it off gracefully. My god, lakhs of Indian women do it with such grace and why, oh why, God had to do this to me, is what I'm simply asking!

For my Std 12th Social, all the girls dressed up in their finest sarees. I think they all looked as if they had stepped out of an ad because they looked so beautiful. And well, i hate remembering, but since confessions are all about remembering. Those years, I was the original tomboy of sorts, mentally. I hated anything girlish, especially those feminine lehengas, salwar kameezes with flowing dupattas. I hated being caged into such clothes that made me feel when I look into the mirror: Who's that? Not me! Puhleez!

I wore an ugly, dull, henna green salwar kameez that was several sizes too big and loose for me. I think I looked like the female version of Shrek! Oh, just thinking about it brings tears to my eyes. The worst part was when the supercool, beautiful beauties cooed, "Oh, poor you, what happened? Why are you dressed like this?"

I spared them my story. Who wanted to hear it anyway that I am not interested in getting doled up? I smiled and that didnt convince anybody so they reached a conclusion that I must be from a very poor family background and so I couldnt afford to buy a saree or even borrow! Its nearly funny, when you think of it, the change over the years, I mean.

My sister is younger to me by six years. Right from her primary school, she knew how to drape the saree beautifully. She does it in less than five minutes while I struggle and end up in all kinds of crazy, horribly draped layers with bits of the saree falling out from here and there!

I've stopped working on my saree draping plan, so many beauty parlors are willing to do it as there are more and more terrible saree drapers like me, as if that can be any consolation! Everytime I want to wear a saree, I think about the draping mess and the walking difficulty and just give up by wearing the usual.

This weekend, a very close friend had come over. She wore a lovely black saree. It looked very traditional. The print had flowers on it, the type that belongs to another era and looks simple yet very classy. I loved it. For three hours, I had this discussion with her about my saree vow. I want to wear all my sarees but I've lost the confidence.
She really is a great friend. She pepped me up, told me it was the same for her but she kept trying, trying and then, one fine day, got really good with it. Now, she doesn't need any help and can drape her saree in like three minutes! Well, its ambitious for me to hope to do that anytime soon but I've vowed to get started. Let me start, fail, learn from it and try again.
Any suggestions?

"Parents are Love"

A few days of color, love and pampering, that's what October 2009 has been for me. In this city where dreams die and lose color, my parents brought all of it back. Seeing life through their eyes brings joy because they are so full of love and wisdom. All their life, they have believed in the goodness of people and that feeling of God and goodness have come more powerfully into my life again. Sometimes, you need those very solid ties to remind you of your dreams and focus again on making them come true. We hardly value the time we had with our parents or the sacrifices they have made for us when we live with them. At that time, we are so keen to break the rules and rebel or just lead our life to the brink of adventure, danger or rebellion, that power to say 'No' but now when we become independent, all we want to do is go back and be with them.




I had a wonderful time with my parents. We had endless conversations about everything under the sun. We ate at home and went outdoors too. The colorful pic below was taken at Raj Dhani, a very well known restaurant that is famous for traditional Gujarati dishes. Located in the very busy, happening mall called the Great India Place, Noida, this is the fantastic spread we helped ourselves to.

People say, "God is Love" and I agree. I just want to add to that by saying, "Parents are LOVE."

Those of you who love their parents, do visit Mrs.A and share a word of solace and strength with her. As a daughter who feels torn by her mother's condition, Mrs. A needs our prayers and good thoughts to make her feel better. 

Today is a good day to do something compassionate for not just our parents but all parents in the world who've made their mark of love stand out through their children. We could offer something as simple yet invaluable like a word of love, a kind thought and much more. What matters is to carry forward what our parents have always given us from their lives: LOVE

Diwali 2009

When I first came to Delhi, I was frightened by the Diwali celebrations that I saw. Fire crackers are not something I enjoy. I think it pollutes the environment. I have seen documentaries on how fire crackers are made in India. Truly, it is shocking how this popular festival product is actually the result of thankless hours of work and terrible living conditions suffered by child laborers in different parts of the country. Every time I see the crowds that hover around stalls that sell fire crackers, I feel something inside my heart burst with pain.

Anyway, let me come back to my story. Diwali, as I understood initially, is celebrated with lights. I found the festival a little too loud because where I was working at the time, it was more of a corporate affair. You had lots of gifts that had to be planned, bought and packed. It was about showing off who could give what, at times. In case you didn't have money to pay more to your domestic help, you can bet that your neighbors would know about it and let you know in a very mocking way that they know about it. Why should they be concerned is a question I will not ask as curiosity about neighbors and what they are upto is a virtue in India with a lot of people.

Over the years, I have become used to Diwali. In fact, I have learned to appreciate the good things associated with the festival. It is a season when people, despite crazy work schedules, find a way to meet their relatives and loved ones and gift them with sweets and things.

During my first Diwali in Delhi, I remember going to many shops, yearning to buy something with my hard earned money for my husband. Nothing seemed good enough because I was so overwhelmed to be married and working, a combination that had seemed rare when I first began my life's new journey. In its own way, Diwali is that time of the year when you want some light in your life, literally, before the bleak days of winter make its presence felt.

Looking back, I realize that only my first Diwali experience was a little dampening because it was a culture shock and the firecrackers really scared me. The following years, I had enjoyed Diwali. In 2005, I celebrated Diwali in Shirdi. It was one of my most unforgettable trips. It happened a day after a series of bomb blasts had taken place in Delhi. Everyone advised us not to travel by train from Delhi as there was so much panic about national security and safety of the public. At the time, I was six months pregnant with Adi. That morning, the railway station was deserted. Except for the two of us and some vendors, there was no one at the station that morning. I am mentioning this because it is typically one of the most crowded railway stations on normal days!

Our trip to Shirdi was so wonderful. We talked about everything under the sun for hours and hours. My hubby showed me around Shirdi. The hotels were all booked, the place itself was so crowded that we gave up hope of finding somewhere to stay in.

We found a place that was away from the huge crowds, very peaceful and had ambience too. We spent most of our time in the Shirdi Samadhi mandir and Dwarkamai, the mosque. What I loved was praying in the mosque. I saw people, Hindus and Muslims, offering their prayers in that mosque. On Diwali, despite the terrible rush around the place, I sat on the floor for hours, pressed between many devotees, yet totally at peace as I sat in the mosque and ate Prasad and prayed for my baby. I felt tears gather in my eyes as I saw people light diyas around the mosque and the temple. I felt so fortunate to be there in Shirdi. Everywhere we moved, there was light, not just in the diyas but in the eyes and hearts of those who were gathered there.

This year, Diwali 2009 as I am calling it, turned out to be very special. Early morning, God gave me an opportunity to do a pooja and light the lamp of love in the hearts of others. That is the best thing I have done in a long, long time.
Also, after a gap of three long years, my parents came to spend Diwali with me. Words fail me because the memory of lighting diyas with them, watching them shop for lights and decorate my home with it, and gift me with so much besides their love, it is all so hard to describe.

Just a few days back, I bumped into one of my neighbors. Stylish mom, a little bit of a show off but definitely an attractive one, she told me that she decided to spend her Diwali with her parents as she felt they were alone and it didn’t seem fair that she always spent Diwali with her in-laws. What struck me was her words, “For a change, I want to make my parents feel loved.” It touched me that for a change, she was not boasting about her latest watch or jeans or about a new country she had sailed to but about something that meant the whole world to her because I could see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice. Sometimes, it takes a festival of lights to bring alive that sparkle and fervor in each of us.

I think that is what makes Diwali truly special for a lot of families in India. It is when a lot of parents feel loved by their children and relatives. It is when a lot of children think about pampering their parents. It is about looking back and not forgetting the roots that brought you where you are now.

I wish you a very Happy, Prosperous and Love Filled Diwali.

Before you leave, tell me about your favorite Diwali and why.