Look Up- To Us

• The rhythm of the local train, lulled me to blissful unawareness. I was half asleep when I heard loud squeals. As I came to, I noticed a child with her mother had boarded the train and were sitting right opposite me. As the child ripped open the packet of chips and stuffed her mouth with junk, she kept chattering. Once she was done, her dress, hands and mouth all messy, she folded up the empty packet, dusted herself clean and promptly deposited the piece of garbage into her mother's purse. There's hope afterall.
  
• As I impatiently awaited my bus to show up at the bus stop, a long queue had snaked up to the end of nowhere. A bully next to me thought it of utmost importance to paint the concrete roads with his bright red beetle nut flavoured spit. Constantly, once, twice, thrice.. "Excuse me, why do you keep ruining our infrastructure? What pleasure do you derive from that?" I asked in Hindi. "How is it any of your business? How about you STFU and behave like a woman rather than questioning a man?" he responded in the most sexist, suggestive and offensive tone possible. All around, the young, the old and the middle aged gave him a piece of their mind, not raising their voice, letting their opinion out- ranging from cleanliness to respecting women to speaking respectfully to people to not ruining the country's image. There's hope afterall.
• When I see women of all age groups being groped in crowded places and teased publicly, I feel sad that none of them are able to or even want to raise their voice against it. It fills me with pride when I see women standing up for themselves as soon as they have been humiliated by their attackers, not sparing a single thought to "What will people think of me if I create a scene despite the fact that I've been wronged?" There's hope afterall.
• The week long apprehensions got the better of me. I couldn't think straight of what I was going to do, how I was going to bring up the subject and let it all out. I finally did it. I went up to my parents and said "I am joining kick boxing classes. It starts in two days." While my father gave me a "Good, it'll build your stamina!", my mother gave me a "Great! Good for your health and you learn some self defense. Have fun!" While I was left stunned at their response, my mind gave me a nudge toward There's hope afterall.
• When my uncles and aunts, distant and close are all up in my business with questions ranging from "When are you getting married?", "Are your parents looking for someone?", "How many kids do you want?", When do you want to settle down?", my grandmother shushes them up with a "She can do whatever she wants, don't annoy her with marriage questions now. That is for her to decide!" There's hope afterall.
• When I see the cleaning lady at my office everyday, toiling away so she can put her children through school, I feel proud. The feeling is inexplicable when at the end of every month, she comes to me with a shy smile and once I handover her pay cheque, her eyes shine at the prospect of signing her name on the register. There's hope afterall.

There's always hope- for a better life, for a better set of thoughts, for a better generation, for a better nation, for a better us, for a better person to look up to.

Together in Harmony, Maybe

Moving to a new city, starting a life on your own is fun, but hard. The only hope here is that you find tasks manageable than easy. Let's face it, if it is easy, it ain't right! When I found my house on Housing.com, having been raised in a chaotic environment, I found it to be eerily quiet. So, yours truly asked the kind (?) landlady for a roommate. I was hoping for a Monica, expecting a Rachel and was hoping against hope not to end up with a Joey!

The moment she walked in, tiny, petite, looking around curiously, my brain only produced a "Oh, shit, living with a stranger. Now what?"

Being the pessimistic cynic that I am, I noticed the cracks in this roommate-ship in the first few days. She had all the signs of my grandmother. Oh, the flooding memories of my childhood and teenage years! It all started when she opened her wardrobe door for the 16th time that hour, constantly rummaging for a pin or a comb or just to peer inside, I guess. It then extended to her taking her bucket out from under her bed, bathing and depositing the bucket back under her bed along with her toiletries. It then continued with her safely locking up her food in her cupboard and shrieking one day because the milk had spilled all over. All this alongside "Hey, could you please help me open this jar of jam?" to "Hey, could you please switch the gas stove on for me? I'm not able to do it." to "OH MY GOD! THAT DOG IS SO CLOSE TO US! HELP ME!" Need I say more?

Then again, it dawned on me- we are all here alone, trying to make the best of things because, let's face it, living alone is fun! Whether the nutty roommate is fun is a different question altogether.

It all started with me wishing her a highly enthusiastic "Happy Birthday!" Considering the high pitched tone was fooling no one and she had no plans on her birthday, I came back home from work with a hellish indulgence in the form of a dark chocolate pastry. Since I couldn't find birthday candles, I lit a matchstick as a makeshift candle and in the guffaws that followed, the matchstick burnt itself to the cake. This happened thrice. Once bitten, twice shy says who? Not bad for a anti-social creature (me, in case you were wondering) bonding with a fellow human being!

It only got better with me trying to burn the house down. I am not exaggerating. I had some left over Chinese food and we have a century-or-so-old microwave in the house that takes up to 30 minutes to boil a glass of water. So, I set the microwave for ten minutes to reheat my leftover Chinese in a plastic container and off I went to watch my TV show. The sound that startled me after five minutes was some loud clunking. When I went outside, I was shocked beyond wits to see the house filled with smoke, a deep burning smell in every nook and corner and the plastic container inside the microwave on fire. Literally on fire. As I yelled out to my roommate, I got no response, I switched off the microwave and poured water all over it. She walked down the stairs calling my name and asking me what happened. The mess, explaining and the stink was followed by about two hours of non-stop laughing, sitting outside the house for fresh air and finally closing the day with a round of drinks and a rerun of Horrible Bosses.

I am the stubborn, usually non-adjusting kind. The kind that stays in one corner of the room where people enjoy mingling around. I don't like meeting new people, I don't like socializing, I don't like being 'out there'. Then again, like I said, away from home we are all here trying to make this work, one way or the other. Maybe a good laugh and someone to laugh with makes it easier? Maybe people aren't so bad after all? I may not have a best friend forever, the ultimate roommate or friend turned to family, we do have good stories to tell. This is the one thing that keeps me going.

Just maybe, it is the company that matters. The power of being #together.

Starting A New Life

Ever since the end of school,the one motive in life for me had been "to be on my own". No, I wasn't subject to tyranny at home, not at all! When eight years later the opportunity presented itself in the form of moving cities for a job opportunity, I jumped at the offer like the fox lunged at its sweet-looking-grapes on the tree!

Now, I have been moving since childhood considering my parents worked for the Government of India; so, in my head, having watched from the sidelines, looking at the way my parents handled everything with utmost efficiency, moving was easy! I was going to be proved wrong in so many different ways!

I moved to Bangalore from the hustle and bustle of Bombay. What I expected was a quaint little town, tucked away with amazing weather and fashionable tech-people-spotting everywhere. What I have realized since landing here is that Bangalore is not a quaint little town. On the other hand, it is a mega IT city which is bursting to its seams with all this overcrowding!

Who better to guide me in Bangalore as far as accommodation goes than Housing.com? Having scoured through a bunch of websites with no satisfactory results, yes, Facebook groups included, I landed on Housing.com and lo and behold, look at my options! The most positive side of things was that I could go through real estate listings that had been verified by the Housing.com team leaving me with just having to give a cursory glance at the property before shouting out a big yes!

I had an image of an evil landlord built in my head (I blame Bollywood movies)- you know, the ones that literally throw the tenants and their belongings out when they have defaulted in paying rent by a day. I was surprised to hear a decent, sweet sounding woman on the other end of the phone call. (So, Housing.com takes its verification seriously!) Lesson learned- don’t raise your kids on a diet of Bollywood movies.

Believe me when I say this, life is no F.R.I.E.N.D.S TV show when you live alone and start making friends in a new city. A Joey Tribbiani is not going to just move in next door and neither is your old school friend going to turn up and share a room with you. Real life is much more scary and plain and much less exciting. My bungalow is shared by four girls, yours truly included. We are indeed a motley crew! From the finicky, picky, petite girl from up North to the utterly messy, mature albeit fun girl from the East to a relatively regular girl from up North again to me- the girl who is always one step away from a disaster. Always. Lesson learned- don’t let your teenage self be fooled by watching American TV shows.

Living alone is not uber exciting or difficult. It is rather fun when you are expected to do all those things that you have only watched your family do from the sidelines. You discover yourself in ways you wouldn’t fathom while performing mundane tasks, you learn to take care of yourself and those around you, you learn to live and adjust with people who are so different from you that about 70% of the time, all you can think about is how nicely you’d prefer smacking them! But then all is good when chilled bottles of beer are clinked and worries are drowned away in the blissful fizz!

Thank you Housing.com, you helped me move one step closer to my dream! True story.

Let's watch you #StartANewLife

Still not convinced? Watch this:

 PS: Hey, Housing.com, I take my referral fees in cash only :D

Home Away From Home: Setting up a Home

I am the new employee whose parents dropped her off on her first day of work and even had a word with her reporting manager about the company and its business. I am the new employee whose mom told her boss and I quote “I am leaving her under your care now.”

Is there any reason for my brain not to face palm at this? 

Now, I am not the type who throws a fit at being escorted by my parents to school, college, first day of my internship and now my first day of work. Who cares? As long as they are not pinning a handkerchief to my pinafore, making my shoes shine so well that the water bottle hanging on my neck gets reflected in it and adjusting my Spiderman back pack, I am cool with it! But even to my ears, the ‘care of’ to my boss sounded something an emotional, drama loving mom would say.

After such a delightful, eyeball catching entry on my first day of work, wherein I was happily six hours late (or as my friend says "Pehle din pe aukaat dikha diya tune"), my parents, with me in tow, went apartment hunting. After having endured the relentless, ear drum bursting, lung cancer giving effects of the cities of Bombay and Thane, Bangalore, in my head, looked like that beautiful, perfect cousin whom your mom always looks at with admiration and then gives you that look which silently screams “Meh!”

Independent houses dotting the streets and very few apartment buildings is something I may never get used to. Apartments/ flats make good economic sense. More human dwellings in comparatively less space. Cattle class all the way! Just give your monthly maintenance cheque and your utilities are magically taken care of. Independent house owners seem to love running from pillar to post to get stuff done. Jolly! 

Another weird notion that I find unsettling is the friendliness in a neighbourhood. Something that goes against my every sense of being. The concept I am totally alien to. Back home, we would barely acknowledge a neighbour with a smile despite living in the same building, on the same floor for eight odd years. If you come across a person from your building, you avoid eye contact, appear to be busy on your phone (while you and I both know that you are randomly scrolling through your Whatsapp list, judging your friends' display pictures) and try to scurry away before having to forcefully act civil with them. Once that catastrophe has passed you coochikoo with a cute stray and try to communicate with him/ her in Dog. And philosophers say humans don't make sense. Pch!

The concept of paying guest accommodation here, like everything else, is commercialized. They call a broom cupboard a bedroom. Bombay townies will vouch for this- a town area servant quarter is more spacious and cozy than the PG accommodation here. You get a cot with a thin mattress, used bed sheet, a thin pillow (hopefully the past user didn't have dandruff/ lies) and voila! You have what they call a living space. I suppose the broom cupboard bedroom is supposed to give you an idea of the worst case scenario- if you take wrong decisions, you may end up in jail, and this is how jails are. LOL. Just kidding. You may be slightly more comfortable behind bars.

We will make the bedroom look as shabby and unwelcoming as possible that you will not even think of entertaining "guests" here. 

The best part of so called accommodations are the deadlines. Some of them had deadlines of 9:30 pm. Essentially, I'll be paying them to run my life while I enjoy their complimentary jail food. And I will be calling this my home. One PG for women went a step further and added a note on their main gate which read "Ladies who are late will be allowed entry only if they are dropped off in a company car." Because we don't use cabs or rickshaws or have colleagues/ friends drop us off in their vehicle when we are running late. That just sends a wrong message. Besides, if women come home late in non-company cars, they have no morals. So, don't allow them entry and keep them standing outside in the oh-so-safe-in-the-middle-of-the-night environment. Makes sense, no?

By Facebook's grace, we found comparatively normal landlords (not a PG), liked what they offered and took it. 

Now, love your mom to infinity because she will not judge when you are standing in the supermarket, looking like a fool and not having an inkling as to what all you need to set yourself up in a new place. While you stand there dumbstruck and completely useless, be assured that she'll pull out a nice shopping list and start ticking things off. Something which makes you go "Oh shit! This is how things magically appeared back home?" 

Eventually, in your temporary home you realize that the maid is only going to wash your clothes and hang them to dry. The dry-clothes-fairy is not going to get them back from the balcony. Oh, your wardrobe is not sprinkled with fairy dust to arrange itself properly.

When you live with housemates, there are adjustments that will be demanded. For example, you need to be totally okay with a stranger's lingerie drying in the balcony right beside yours, have a shoe lying around in the kitchen, loud noises around the house that make you think "What is that noise? What can possibly make all that noise?", a stranger running around the house wearing a helmet and by far the worst- looking at the aforementioned strangers in their night clothes. That is one moment where I feel like clicking their picture and sending them to my mom saying "Here's proof that people dress way worse than I do when home. You cannot say that I dress like an urchin at home."

The household will generally be either all male or all female. Never a mix of the two. Additionally, one more unspoken rule is "no opposite sex in the house" which feels like going back to school- "Girls and boys should not talk or mingle. Girls and boys should not sit together. The best punishment is making the child sit in between two children of the opposite sex."For the overtly adventurous kind, this may be your chance to break the rules, live life on the wilder side, play sneakoscope games and what have you!

All in all, living alone, especially for the first time, is never foolproof. Be your dumbest, lose your ego, venture into everything without any expectations, be safe and you will come out of this bruised and slightly less foolish. Maybe.

Home Away from Home

From being a girl of 10 or 11 whose parents used the "I'll make you live in a hostel" threat to reprimand her to being a girl of 15 or 16 who wanted to live in a hostel (which rebellious teen doesn't?) to a grown up (maturity is questionable) of 23 who is finally moving out of her parents' chatrachaya (as my friend so eloquently put it) (meaning protection or shelter).

It has been a roller coaster of decisions, reality checks, permissions and emotions.

This Bombay Bumpkin is making her way to another city.

I will be writing about:

1. How not to screw up when you ain't with mommy and daddy 
2. How to grow up (haha)
3. How to cook maggi 
4. How to make sure you don't screw up so bad that your parents pester you to "come back home for good" before you are ready
5. Other misc items related to"Just how not to screw up"

The fact that I don't know what is in store for me gets me scared, excited and uncertain all at once.

I hope to document it all. Maybe it will help someone somewhere sometime; just maybe.

Senitmental Fragility

This made me wonder. To give you an idea:

 Are your `Hindu' sentiments hurt by Aamir Khan's take on godmen and gods in the new Bollywood movie PK? Or by Ram Gopal Varma's queries regarding Lord Ganesha? Don't worry, the Hindu Legal Cell will address your concerns. Launched six months ago by more than 100 lawyers across India, this organisation will tackle any perceived insults against the faith, besides fighting for “Hindu human rights“.

Initially, I was in denial. Then I tried to make sense of it. I seem to have failed. 

The article in the Economic Times goes on to state the following:

“Our religion is under threat, and in India, in the name of secularism, everyone wants to protect other religions, except Hinduism,“ said Prashant Patel, a 27-year-old graduate in management and law from Delhi who's the organisation's secretary. “In India, there are some people who talk against Indian culture and get away in the name of free speech,“ he said. “But free speech should be used to talk good things and not hurt others' sentiments,“ Patel said.

Note how there is a mention of free speech. How poignantly put!

After successfully tackling trivial economic issues like poverty, corruption, illiteracy, women's safety, hunger, housing, infrastructure, water, other environmental issues, et cetera we finally seem to have taken a turn for the better. Focus on greater development and make India an economic power. Focus on protection and development of religion and take legal action against people talking smack about Indian culture, Hinduism,  and the so-called force fed faith in Gods and Godmen.

Shame on Indians. Talking about the Indian culture in myriad ways and destroying its sanctity. You have a differing opinion? How dare you? Did you not know that there is no room for independent thought?

Shame on Indians. Making movies like PK & OMG. Is it so difficult to produce item numbers and mindless Bollywood masala movies? That is what Indian culture is all about.

Shame on Indians. Watching, liking and enjoying movies like PK & OMG. What audacity! Who said your choice even mattered? It is an Indian family's birthright where everyone from grandparents to infants enjoy Munni & Sheela.

Shame on Indians. Voicing their opinions against Gods and their men. Follow them. Blindly. Now.

Shame on Indians. Using their fundamental rights in such blatantly normal ways. You live in a democracy. You have free speech. It doesn't mean you can stand against what is considered 'acceptable behaviour'.

No, no. We need to put an end to this. We need to stop this apocalypse before it takes over the country. We need to stop people from having a rational and logical thought process. They need to adhere to norms. How hard is it, really? We have been doing it for generations. We can do it for generations more!

Ram Puniyani, a leading political commentator and member of the All India Secular Forum, finds the emergence of organisations such as the Hindu Legal Cell a worrying trend amid the coming to power of the BJP-led Narendra Modi government. “This lawyers' organisation is a step in the same direction--to harass those opposing blind faith. Those promoting rational thought will be targeted and this will subtly promote Hindu religiosity.“

Rational thought? Hahaha. Even our education system doesn't have any room for this. Why should religion?

The next step for the organisation will be to expand its base in other parts of India and encourage people to file cases against any issue that impacts them.

Industrial development? Development of the service sector? B*tch, please!

On a serious note, instead of focussing on Modi's Japan model for development of the nation, we seem to be on the path to recreating a certain East Asian country's ruthless dictatorship.

I am interested in what you have to say. Leave a comment below or e-mail me.

You may find the article here: http://epaperbeta.timesofindia.com/Article.aspx?eid=31818&articlexml=After-Ghar-Wapsi-a-Ghar-to-Protect-Hindu-29122014001078

The Mills & Boons Reverie

I read my first Mills & Boons when I was sitting jobless at a client's place (audit is by far the most boring field of work) and I asked a friend to forward me an e-book. Till date I've read about 10-15 Mills & Boons books (yes, I know, I know), here's what all of them are about:

1.    Tall, dark and handsome men: Yes, the ones that don't exist. Okay, fine. They do exist. But, they’re already taken. They do not exist for us mere mortals. And here in India, we mostly find short, stout, dark and not handsome men who leer at us. Mostly. Oh, well.

2.    Well built men vs. tiny and frail girl: I am neither tiny nor frail. I can kick some serious ass! And, well built? Bitch, please! Why do you think the terms "paunch" and "beer belly" exist? Fairy tale portrayal, WHY!?

3.    Very big man: I need to add a *nudge nudge wink wink* here. You know. The girl has never seen such a huge man. Then again, her fear is replaced by how turned on she is and at the end of the day, they fit perfectly well. You know. Yeah, okay.

4.   Stone wall, zero EQ: The male protagonist is always surrounded by a stone wall, emotionally. He has had some bad experience or the other as a child that has left him emotionally stunted. He has built a strong wall around his emotions and feelings, never lets them show and yes, the female protagonist breaks the wall and he gets all mushy, emotional and gets in touch with his feelings. The man will always, always be beautiful, rough and broken. We aren't talking about broken shards of Venetian glass. No. The woman will fix him (it seems to be her single motive). Wouldn’t going to a shrink be easier? Think about it.

5.   Growl, growl, ROAR: Whenever the guy is turned on, he growls. I am not joking! I have noticed this in every sex scene that was elucidated. Sorry, how tactless of me. Love making scenes. The woman sucks in her breath, he growls. The woman moans, he growls. The woman smiles, he growls. The woman hugs him, he growls. A trip to the zoo would be easier!

6.    Damsel-in-distress and knight-in-shining-armour syndrome: Yes. She is always in need of help. Yes, he is always there to save her. They fall in love and have a happily ever after. Don't we all? It must be so difficult to come up with a plot line showing exactly that. No more, no less.
Oh, a few more pointers for the perfectly concocted M&B- the damsel is usually in financial distress. The only solution? Marriage; A loveless marriage. Duh! Guy demands sex. Girl refuses. Girl falls for his undeniably sexy charms. *Gasp* Guy has amazing control over his sexual appetite and restraint (because, obviously, the girl said no and he should honour her wishes, duh). They end up having sex anyway because they are beautiful, hot, sexy people and what do two beautiful, hot and sexy people do? Yep.

7.   Wealthy magnate: The male protagonist is never a-struggling-anything. He used to be. Not anymore. He only struggles with his non-existent EQ. He is always a wealthy magnate, has more money than well, a lot of money, has real estate all over the world, has an amazing business, is always in the middle of some business negotiation or the other, is always ruthless in those negotiations (the girl injects some emotions here to balance out the ruthlessness; and because she has to do something other than sit pretty all the time) and is just the perfectly tactless multi-millionaire.

8.   Marriage and kids: So, the guy is emotionally stunted. The girl fixes him. He wants to marry her. He wants her to have several of his children. Several. Girl is shocked to her wits that he is willing to commit. And kids? Several of them? $%%&%&, sure! It is not like the girl gets annoyed with the "several" part because she has to pop them out. They get married. Girl with a shy smile tells him “I’m glad you are talking about babies; I am pregnant!”
Because every girl's reaction, once she knows she's pregnant is unbelievable happiness coursing through her veins. And of course the guy is super duper happy that his girl's knocked up because his legacy will remain. I mean, come on, did you honestly expect anything less? People don't just freak out and try to run away from reality, especially when it is pregnancy. That has mediocrity written all over it!

Mills & Boons 101.
You are most welcome!