Turning 41

I thought turning 40 was a milestone but somehow turning 41 has proven to a much bigger milestone than I thought it would be. I am surviving a pandemic but more importantly I am surviving myself, surviving my anxiety, my fears, my self-doubts, the thoughts in my head!

But should I discount off 2020? Should I write it off? No way Jose! Absolutely not! There’s so much I have learned from it, so there’s no way I am gonna write it off!

I have learned that although rules are meant to be broken, there are certain rules that need to be followed. Imagine if we did follow some rules diligently, we wouldn’t find ourselves in the mess we are in.

The adage “All that glitters is not gold” and “Empty vessels make the most noise” holds true when it comes to Social Media and news channels.

I have learned that the word “atmanirbhar” has more meaning to it, if you just read between the lines.

I have learned that distraction can be a very effective ploy if you want to draw attention away from the pain, draw attention away from things that really matter.

I have learned to just try and switch off and tune out the din around you, cause it’s just empty vessels making noise, which can be so far from the truth and doesn’t need to affect you. But then the operative word here is trying, doesn’t mean I have succeeded in doing it.

I have learned that people are motivated for their own selfish benefit, which is something very human (sadly), we just got to read between the lines and act accordingly.

I have learned that following a recipe is the easiest way of baking, and baking can be both stressful and therapeutic. And yes it can add to the digits that appear on your weighing scale.

I have learned you don’t need to go to the gym to burn calories. Just get a pair of dumbbells, some resistance bands and you can workout right from the comfort of your own home.

I have learned that you don’t need to got to a place of worship to pray. God is everywhere. Monuments are just symbols. 

I have had some wonderful moments with my mum. Whether it is bonding over baking or cooking together, whether it is reciting the rosary, or going to the market. I’ve managed to spend more time with her, fussing over her, talking with her, being protective of her, than I would. On the opposite end, I am sure she’s fed up of me as she doesn’t get to see her TV shows, and I am always worrying about her.

I have learned the importance of friends and colleagues (ok the only the good ones). It’s been months since you have met some of them, talked to some of them, and you sure do miss them.

I have learned that gifts that come from a place deep within are the best gifts you could receive, and you have family and loved ones who keep showing you that every time. Even a simple message means a lot.

I have learned to appreciate nature more, cause while we were in lockdown, nature blossomed.

But most importantly I’ve learned to Be Kind and empathetic. We all are in this together, and If we need to make it through, we need each other. We all have our crosses to bear. We all have our share of pain and sorrow, some maybe more than others. But we can make it through by sharing and caring. Nothing good can come from tearing others down and finger pointing and name calling. 

So in the end the biggest lesson that 2020 taught me is to Be Kind, Be Strong, Be Appreciative of what you have and all who you have in your life. Don’t take life for granted. You have just one life to live and have a whole lot of love to give.

The Photograph: A slice in time

I sat there, minding my business, trying to appear, even if I wasn’t quite busy as I looked, when my mumma handed me a photograph which she had come across during one of her many draw cleaning sessions.

As I stared at the photograph that she had given me, I tried to recollect the morning can’t time when it was taken, rummaging through the deep recesses of my mind. But then it wasn’t about the time when the photograph was taken. It was people who were in it , the ones staring back at me, who may or may not be smiling for the camera.

These were the people who I so loved and cherished, people to whom I credit who I am today. People who taught me so much about life, about love, about family. People who I would sadly never see again.

And yet they continued to live on in this photograph, immortalised on this piece of glossy paper. It was as if this photograph had carved out a slice in, a moment for all eternity.

And though the people in the photograph had long since passed on to a better place, they continued to live on, as they did, etched on the walls of mind.

So as I placed the photograph aside, I just smiled, cherishing the memory that the photograph had made, a slice of time captured for all eternity.

When a Song can save a LIFE!

He stumbled out of his car, at an ungodly hour, after driving aimlessly all night. He felt weary, his eyes teary, after trying to hold it together, inside. His heart felt heavy, but his pockets were empty, and his wallet as light as a weather. The only weight that he felt was the one on his head and the weight of the world in his shoulders.

He had dreams, he had plans, ambitions he had, but somehow they all went wanting. There were so many things he wanted to do,  things to see, things to do, with a lot to achieve and prove. He had the drive and abilities to make them true. But he lacked a  Plan B, and the year turned into a deadly foe, that left him feeling hopeless and low. It had thrown a spanner in the work, poured water all over his plans and now he didn’t know what to do. He saw his world crumbling around him, threw threatening to bury it under its rubble. He felt the walls closing around him, such that it would squeeze the life from within

So he made his way to the bar, after wandering for hours, he had nowhere else to be. He needed to drown his sorrow for there was no tomorrow, or escaping the fears that threatened to consume him whole. But then the bar was closed, and though he knocked on the door, no one was opening it for him. So he peered throw the windows and stared at the bar, imagining the bartender pouring his drink. And then he saw the old piano and remembered the wise man who tickled the ivories, passing sage advice to patrons who needed it most with their drinks. So he began to sing to himself.

“Sing me a song, oh you Piano-man

Sing me a song tonight

I am cold and weary 

And life is so dreary 

How I wish I could end it all tonight!”

And low and behold, he heard the wise piano-man replied to his pleas!

“Son look around, 

There are many to be found 

Who are sailing in the same boat as you

If you make it through the stormy weather 

Life’s only going to get better

You’ve just got to stay afloat

Even grey clouds have a silver lining

So you just stay shining

You’ll find your pot of gold 

At the end of your rainbow 

Remember the harder you fall

The higher you will rise 

Rough time will makes a tougher you

You’re going to get stronger 

So hold on a bit longer 

You’ve just got to learn to adapt

So son don’t loose hope 

Just learn to stay float

Find it within you to withstand it all

You have it in you

A strength you never knew

That will help you rise when you fall

So stay a little stronger 

Hold on a bit longer

Just believe me you’ll sail through!!!”

And as he heard these words in head, he no longer felt dread, or the anxiety that threatened to choke his life. His heart filled with hope, and he now believed he could would survive. So he wiped off the tears, that now begun to show, he now had a renewed belief in life. He knew he could overcome whatever obstacles that would came and the lemons that life threw his way. He was hopeless no more!

So he sighed and sang to himself...

“Sing me a song Oh you Piano-man

Sing me a song tonight 

Cause I no longer feel lost

And I will fight back at all cost

Cause your song just saved my life!”

Here’s to us!

Though he tried to get back to the life he once knew, somehow he couldn’t get her off  his mind, and this was not something he wanted to do. He wanted to call her, to talk her, to hear her voice, still hoping to convince her. But his ego was hurt, and that kept him from calling her. 

He got so involved in his work that he didn’t quite get much time to do anything, and his work kept him busy most of the time. Finally when he got the time to call her, her number was not reachable. He was aware that the network connection on the island was quite bad. But then when he tried her again, after a couple of days, his call went directly to voice mail. Now he was worried about her. When he finally got the time to take a few days off, he returned back to the island. But she was not there. She had left her job at the cafe and no one knew where she had gone.

This made him furious, how could she do something like this to him, how could she be so cruel towards him. He wanted to scream and shout. But he refrained from doing any such thing, his old life was returning back to him and he was loosing all the spontaneity that he had discovered when he was around her.

He returned back to his life, pained, hurt and disappointed. He spend the next few days, next few weeks trying to locate her, even taking the help of professionals, but to no avail. It was like she vanished into thin air. He hadn’t asked about her past, so he knew little to none about it. He cursed himself for not knowing more about her.

Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, months to years. He got totally involved in his work, totally consumed in it, totally immersed in it. But every now and then he made the effort of trying to locate her. He tried to date, but no one matched to her, no one made him feel the way she made him feel. She was his standard of love. But most importantly his heart refused to let go of her, to let him forget her. So he was not able to bond with anyone. 

Then after almost over two decades, since he left the island, since he last saw her in person, he found a postcard lying on his desk. There was something vaguely familiar about it, he couldn’t put a finger on what it reminded him of. The handwriting seemed oddly familiar but one he hadn’t seen before. It was an invitation to visit the island. And then it struck where he had seen the picture before. This was the picture of their favourite place on their island, where there spent countless hours lazying away, making love. As he stared at the postcard he could hear his heart beat against his chest . Had she finally relented, and come to her senses. The writing didn’t quite look like that of hers, but when people change over the years, wouldn’t their handwriting do the same. 

He couldn’t contain his happiness, his excitement. He took days off, well that was not needed when you were running your own division. He quickly got a flight and a ferry to the island. When he finally stepped on the small dock of the island, he noted that even though things had changed, there was still something familiar about the island. He was so excited to see her after all this while.

When he arrived at the cafe he was greeted by this beautiful, striking girl, who must have been in her late teens or early twenties. She was dressed in loose flowing trousers and blouse. Although she seemed quite young there was something confident and sure about her. He continued to stare at her, as there was something vaguely familiar about her. She greeted him with a warm smile and then it struck him that staring at her eyes was like his eyes staring back at him. And then what she said took him by surprise.

She introduced herself as Mia, her daughter, his daughter. And then he recognised the striking resemblance of her in Mia, her features, her spirit, mixed with that of his. He couldn’t contain his happiness, he couldn’t contain his joy. He had a beautiful daughter. And then he felt this burning rage towards her. How could she be so cruel, how could she keep something so big from him. How could she deny a child the love of her father, how could she robe a man from the joy of fatherhood. He was furious. He wanted to see her immediately. Mia asked him if he would like to have anything, but all wanted to do was to confront her. So she took him to the place where they had lived previously. And when they reached there, she handed him an envelope and left him, as she had some errands to run but promised to meet him at the cafe.

He didn’t want to read the letter but still he sat down and opened it. As he read it tears welled up in his eyes. It was from her. It said that if he was reading this meant she had long since gone, passed over to the other side. In it she asked his forgiveness, but explained why she did what she did. A few days after he left, she discovered she was pregnant with Mia. And although she was tempted to call him to give him the good news, she restrained herself from doing this, cause once again she didn’t want him to do something for her, she didn’t want to be the reason for him giving up on his dreams. So she decided to bring up Mia on her own, but never lying to Mia about her father. But on hindsight, what she felt like she was sacrificing, was actually a very selfish act. She denied Mia of knowing father, a father’s love, she robbed him the joy and experience of fatherhood. For which she was terribly sorry, something that ate her from within. She went on state that Mia shared her father’s acumen for business and her mother’s spirit for adventure. Now she had gone she hoped he would care for her.

He read the letter a couple of time, and each time he read it he missed her even more. When Mia returned, he hugged her tightly, not wanting to let her go. And as he held on to her, tears streamed down his eyes. He looked her in the eyes, kissed on her forehead. He promised to make up for the years they had lost, the years they were not together. He had found her and there no way he was he letting go.  And they stood there holding on to each other with tears streaming down their eyes.

Few months after he had discovered that he had a beautiful daughter, he was sitting with his daughter in a beautiful cafe, one he knew her mother would love. She got admission to the best college, but every now and then they took father-daughter trips, spending as much time as they could with each other, making memories. And as they ate at the cafe, they tasted each other, the adventures they had and will have, cause life’s short and the world was large and they wanted to make as much memories as possible. So here’s to us!

All Good Things Come to an End

This was not the life he planned for himself, not the one he had envisioned for himself. This was hardly something he would do. But yet here he was. Never in a million years he would have envisioned himself in the situation he found himself in. 

He would have never met someone like her. Never in his life he had met anyone like her, and he knew he would never meet anyone quite like her. She was just someone else. She wasn’t someone he thought he  would feel drawn to, but still here he was. She had turned his whole world upside down, and yet he felt drawn to her. Like a moth drawn to the flame, and he couldn’t resist. This life was not part of his plan, but still here he was, living it, and it felt surreal.

He was over qualified to be a bartender, but still he had no knowledge or experience bar tending, unless you count mixing drinks in college bar tending. Even with all this, here he was, behind the bar, learning about things he sometimes wished he didn’t know. But it gave him an opportunity to earn a living, and you couldn’t live on love and fresh air alone.

His days were filled with love. He moved in with her, giving himself the opportunity of  spending more time together. When they were not working, they were exploring the city, and when they weren’t  exploring they were making love.

Life wasn’t perfect but it was wonderful. It surprised him at every turn, showing him how he was able to adapt to a situation he was never been in before, he had no clue about, but still was living it. But somehow he felt a yearning for the life he had left behind, for the sense of order, the sense of security he was used to. And somehow he let it show (though never intentionally,  when he spoke with her), though he tried to conceal it. Then one day he got a call from his old life  with an offer he couldn’t resist. But still he had to refuse it cause he was sure she wouldn’t give in. Still they were keen to get him onboard though he clearly told them that he wasn’t interested (which was a lie).

When he shared this with her, he was surprised that she told him that he should take him, cause that was something he wanted. She insisted he should take it. He was happy to hear this, but this was short lived cause no way she was getting off the island. In which case he was no mood of accepting the offer, though he wished she would relent.

They argued on this point, but still she was not willing to relent from her position though insisting he take the offer, arguing that this life was not his life, this was the life she wanted, he was adjusting just for her. Expecting to give up on his dreams would be selfish of her.

There was no winning an argument against her. He finally, relented and have in. He accepted the offer, and started to pack his bags and return to the life he had once lived. He could see the pain in her eyes as he packed, no matter how much she tried to mask it, no matter how much she tried to avoid him. As he boarded the ferry that would take him back to the main land, back to his old life, he still hoped she would change her mind and join him. Alas, no such thing happened, not even to the very last moment.

As the ferry left the dock, he kept staring at her till she was a mere speck in the horizon. Though this wasn’t the life he planned for, this was not the way he wanted to close the chapter of his life. So he stared in the direction of the island, in her direction. A tear welled up in his eyes, glistening in the evening sun as it made it way down his cheeks. Why did all good things have to come to an end!

The Sea Within

He stared at the vast sea that lay before him. The vast greyness, a reflection of the grey monsoon skies above. The roughness of the sea seemed to mirror the storms that raged in his head.

As he walked towards the sea he could feel the cold breeze on his face. He could taste the saltiness of the sea on his lips. As he looked ahead, at the distant horizon, he couldn’t tell where the sky ended and the sea began. It felt liked the two merged together. The gloomy, moodiness of the weather reflected the gloominess he felt inside.

The past few months had taken a toll on him, had taken a toll on his mind, had shaken his core. It felt like nature, ever so coolly but so cruelly, snapped its finger and almost half of the world (ok that seemed little too far fetched) got obliterated into thin air, like a superhero movie. Leaving in it’s path death and destruction and a broken heart.

He couldn’t shake of this fear, this feeling of anxiety, of an unseen enemy creeping up on him and taking over his very being. He tried hard to grapple with the constant news of death, people loosing their lively hood, people being afraid of getting infected (he was one of them), trying to cope with what seemed to be a new normal.

And though he tried hard to keep a positive outlook on life, he struggled with his sanity. The gloominess of the situation, with its icy finger, threatened to enslave his heart. The distant horizon felt like the vaccine to combat the enemy, still distant, and far from hands reach. Everywhere, chaos reined and no one, not even the ones in power had any clue what to do. They were all safely tucked away in their so called castles, making appearance only when needed, leaving the work of combatting the enemy to be done by the struggling subjects.

As he walked towards the sea, he wished the waves would carry him away, envelop him and take him away from this cruel struggling world. He wished to become one with it. 

But then he realised that there’s so much to live for, even in the present moment. All was not lost. Though hope and faith was only things on hand, it was sufficient to fuel him on. And there was love, the love that he had in his heart, the love that he wanted to meet, the ones who mattered most of all. He couldn’t give up, for the sake of the love he felt, he had to keep the hope and faith. A wiseman said help will always comes to the ones who never give up on hope.

So he took one last glance at the sea, and then walked back to where his friend awaited him, and they returned back on the road they taken, back to the life he had known.

The Rainbow Hue

Come June and the whole world seems to be rainbow hued. It’s like looking at life through rainbow tinted glasses. Everywhere you see, everything has something rainbow in it, has turned to a rainbow. Be it the logos, the make up and people’s dressing sense, everything seems so full of colours, everything seems to take a rainbow hue. And why not, after all it’s Pride month.

So by changing the colours of  DPs, logos, wearing Pride make up, is a way of showing support for the LGBTQ community. But the question that begs to be asked, is that enough? Is wearing the rainbow flag for 30 days of a month, enough support for a community? What happens to the rest of the 11 months, or the 335 days (336 because we are in a leap year)? Is this 30 days of change sufficient enough to show support? Is this tokenism sufficient enough? Let’s face it, this tokenism is not enough, it doesn’t quite say enough, at end of it all there may not be enough of actions, and actions speak louder than words.

So at the end of June, when once again change all the DPs and logos and it all goes back to the normal ways, ask yourself if you have done anything to make the change? Have you changed your outlook or do you go back to the stereotypes that has been engrained in your head? Have you done anything that would bring about a change? What did you do to dispense off the stereotypes or did you just add to it? What did you do the whole month of June, just celebrate and wish everyone a Happy Pride, and preen and pout? What happens when the party is over?

Companies may change their logos to include the rainbow flag but their actions don’t say much. Though do put into action what they say in words. They flood your timelines with good looking models, many posing as couples, that’s nowhere close to representing the community, but only fuels the anxiety of those who are already very body conscious. But their action speaks very little of inclusivity of a community that’s normally marginalised, that has been the butt of every joke, often bullied. So where are those images of real people from the community?

Throughout the month you’ll be flooded with coming out of stories and stories of fight for acceptance. But once the month is gone, these voices die down, and there’s hardly a platform given to these voice. They need to be heard, they need to be accepted, and not just at Pride month, not just for tokenism. They need to be allowed to be who they are, we all need to be who we are.

So it’s time that we learn to be more inclusive, it’s time we be more kinder and sensitive to those around, to ourselves. It’s time we allow ourselves to be who we are, our true selves, and do the same for others. It’s time we support love, not just a day, not just a month, but for all the days of our lives. It’s time we let our actions speak louder than the words coming out of the bigots, to show this is natural, to show that this is normal, to help affect a change, a change in the way we think, behave, perceive a community, and as a community. Cause at the end of the day this love, and as Lin Manuel Miranda said “Love is Love is Love is Love”!

Un-Mask!

“Come in

Why don’t you take a seat

And while you are seated 

Why don’t you take off that mask

No not the one that you wear for the pandemic 

On second thoughts, please take that one off too

But the one you wear for others to see

I know you wear one 

Let it slide off your face 

Let me see the real you 

You may hide from the world your scars

The stains of the tears you’ve cried

The pain, the marks, the wrinkles that have been left by time

But your eyes betray you

For they are seen even you have it on

And they speak volumes without uttering a single word

Why do wear a mask?

Why do you deceive?

Why do you put an outward show?

When inside you are someone different? 

Someone totally torn

Why do you hide behind that mask?

Are you ashamed of who you are?

Are you afraid of people and their judgemental eye?

People will judge 

As long as they have a tongue

And envy in their mind and heart!

Are you afraid they will never accept you

For who you are

But then don’t you live for yourself and not for them

So just be yourself 

Be true to yourself 

This is the least you can do for yourself 

And now please take off that mask

And dey in on fire, and with it burn all the others that you wear

Scatters their ashes in the wind 

Let it take them faraway from you 

The only mask you need

Is the one that protects you from the pandemic 

So destroy them all!”

Said he while looking at himself in the mirror!

Dance with My Father

We have all seen a mother cradling her child in her arms, and we have numerous images of the same. But there are also tender moments that a father shares with his child, though not quite rare, are not usually shown, or rarely seen. A father holding his little one in his arms and dancing with it can be a very tender and precious moment. It’s in these moments that a beautiful bond is created between a father and his child.

Many have been blessed to experience these moments but few are able to recollect the same, cause let’s face it, when was the last time you remembered anything when you were an infant. And then there are some fathers who miss out on these moments, for whatever reasons it may be. After all they are working hard for the money. These moments once gone can never be gotten back again, like a missed opportunity to creat a memory that will never return.

Girls are lucky in this case, they get to experience these moments through out their lives, after all they are their Daddy’s little girl and he’s their favourite dance partner. And not to forget the “Father-Daughter Dance”. As boys we are not quite that lucky to have these moments throughout our lives. Let’s face it we normally shy away, or avoid dancing with our very own mothers, let alone dance with our fathers.

So in the end many of us end up loosing the opportunity of sharing these precious moments, or even reliving these moments, cause we don’t quite have any recollection of the same. And when we no longer have the opportunity, we are left wanting, left wondering, what it would it be like to Dance with my Father again!

A Melody can save a LIFE

He stumbled out of his car

And into the bar

After he had been driving all night

He was grateful to see the bar light

Cause he hadn’t any hope or anywhere to go that night

So he walked to the barman

And asked him for a tonic and gin

And then sat at the bar

Trying to drown the sorrow within

The bar was empty, except for a piano man

Who was tickling the ivories by himself

So he walked towards the piano man  while nursing his tonic and gin

He stared at him for while and then said these words to him

He said sing me a song oh you piano man

Sing me a melody tonight

I am old, cold and no where to go

And maybe your melody will give me a reason to fight

My life’s bubble been burst

But I thirst for love and it hurts

I feel all alone and lonely in my life 

So I  want to put an end to this strife

So sing me melody and help to save a life

Now the piano man looked at him from his perch 

And gave him a warm smile

He nodded his way and continued to play 

A melody that would save his life 

He sang sir if I could be so bold 

But you don’t look so old 

And i see no reasons to give up on life

We have all to face strife

It just all part of life

So take deep breath and don’t regret You’re doing quite nice

Clear your mind of the doubts that’s blocking you

Clear your mind of all negative thoughts

Spend time with your family and friends

Don’t  hold your pain within 

And talk when it’s begins to overwhelm 

So raise your glass 

And toast life till it last

And I’ll sing you a melody for life 

So he raised his glass

Toasted the life he had tasked

And drank his tonic and gin

As the the piano man played him a melody 

He tipped his hat to him

He paid for his drink

And left with a grin

With renewed faith within

As he stepped out of the bar that night

Humming the melody that saved his life!

Make you feel my LOVE

When the rain is blowing in your face

And the whole world is on your case

I could offer you a warm embrace

To make you feel my love

When the evening shadows and the stars appear

And there is no one there to dry your tears

Oh, I hold you for a million years

To make you feel my love

When you feel the world crumbling around you

And you don’t what you need to do

Just call me I’ll be there for you 

To make you feel my love

You don’t have to bear that pain alone

You don’t have to let it fester within your soul

You can talk to me when you feel lonely and alone

Just to make you feel my love

The storm is raging on the rolling sea

And on the highway of regret

The winds of change are blowing you off your feet

But I’ll hold on to you never let you get wet

You don’t have to travel alone

Or bear the burden of your cross on your own

I’ll be there to comfort and hold you

Just to feel my love

Just to feel my love!

When Words are more Deadlier than the Sword

A man who was visiting a small town in the States, saw a vicious dog attack a young boy. He quickly grabbed the animal and throttled it with his bare hand. A local journalist who happened witness the incident, came and congratulated the man, and told him that the headlines the next day would say “Brave Local Man Saves Child by Killing Vicious Animal”. However the gentleman told the journalist that he was not a local but only visiting a friend in town. So the journalist told him that the headline would then be like this “Patriotic American Saves Child by Killing Dog.” Once again the man corrected him that he was not an American, and was from Pakistan. In that case, said the journalist in a huff, the headlines would be “Pakistani Kills Family Pet!”

A few days back there was a headline stating that a pregnant elephant was killed after it was fed pineapple filled with crackers. The immediate reaction to the headline was that of disgust and disdaine. How could someone do something so heinous to such a gentle creature and it’s unborn child? Had we lost all our senses that made us humane? How cruel  and sadistic could one get?

And slowly and surely social media was flooded with messages and images of the elephant, and how we failed the poor creature and have lost all our humanity in the process. Some of these illustrations were indeed heartbreaking. The who’s who of social media, including the celebrities, politicians and sportspersons, posted pics and condolences and expressed their disgust of the act. Even the veg section of society accused the non veg section of society on the hypocrisy of their support and condolences, since they consumed meat (not quite sure of the logic here).

So you had all this reaction to these headlines and messages that seemed to floating around social media. However, when you peeled away this initial information you realise that there’s more to the story than just the headlines. The elephant wasn’t fed the pineapple but accidentally ate the pineapples that were not meant for it. This was a way (not a legal one though) used by farmers to keep wild boars from destroying their crops. So this was not a case of a heinous prank but a classic case of man v/a wild and man encroaching the animal territory, a constant struggle for survival. The poor animal mistakenly and fatally got caught within this battle.

Words are indeed mightier than the sword. They have the power to motivate, to inspire, to captivate, to move mountains. But at the same time it can be more deadlier than the sword. It can be used to manipulate, misinterpret and mislead and can even be a source of tension. The case in point being the initial headlines resulted in a condemnation of the act and an outpouring of emotions based on words that were factually inaccurate. The incident indeed had taken place but not in the way the words made it to be. And then there was also an added communal angle about where the incident occurred, which once again was factually incorrect. Even the date when it occurred was incorrect.

All this shows that it’s so easy manipulate our emotions with the help of mere words. We are willing to jump to conclusion based on our interpretation of these words, which is more than willing to manipulate and mislead us.

So before we decide to condemn, let’s get our facts straight. Let’s not be mislead by mere words, cause social media and WhatsApp universities are willingly waiting to twist words and manipulate and mislead our emotions, and we like fools fall for it time and time again. So we need to be careful on how we react, cause words can indeed be more deadlier than the sword.

Indian Crabs

I remember this story that we were told as kids (damn now days I seem to be remembering a lot of things that have happened in the past, looks like quarantine has got me reminiscing on the past). The story was that of Indian crabs. For those who haven’t heard of this anecdote (a short amusing or interesting story about a real incident or person) here it is.

In a popular CRAB market, there was a store which housed all the crabs of the world. There were baskets of each country in the world lying there full of live crabs. The baskets of each country were covered from the top except that of one country "India". The basket full of Indian crabs was uncovered from the top. This perplexed a visitor who asked the owner why only the Indian basket was left open from the top and that of every other country was closed from the top. 

The owner replied: “It’s simple. If we left the baskets of other countries open, all the crabs would climb to the top and walk out. However with the Indian crabs it is never so as every time an Indian crab tries to climb up the container, another crab pulls it down and therefore none of the Indian crabs are able to leave the container!!

Sadly, in the current pandemic scenario this holds true. Rather than working together to find a way to combat the virus, the political parties have been trying to pull each other down, squabbling and complaining like little kids. Rather than bridging the political divide and coming together to work as one they are more hell bent on bringing each other down, trying their best to destabilise each other and add to chaos that’s already there. You can be critical of each other, but for once work with each other for the benefit of the people who elected you and not for your political agendas.

We don’t need clapping, or banging of plates, lightning of diyas, or showering of petals. These are for social media, they are not going to do anything fruitful. And the financial package, sadly, would never reach the ones who need it. We need a leadership, which sadly is mostly missing and mostly appears to either assign some new tasks or extend lockdowns. Celebs and social influencers are either quarantined in their farmhouses, busy posting pics of new tricks they have picked while on lockdown and will only make appearance when it suits them.

We need to stand united if we need to make it out of this situation and come out alive we need to work together, especially our political parties. After all united we stand, divided we fall. Now that’s a thought for another write up!

.. doing the things you LOVE!

“Doing what you’re LOVE is where the Happiness lives!”

This was something that I got to experience this Sunday evening. Even it was just mere 30 minutes, those 30 minutes provided me happiness and contentment that I so longed for,  I so missed. In those 30 minutes I was able to put behind me all my cares, my worries my fears, my doubts, and live in that moment. It brought me calm and joy that just made want to reside in those moments. And though 30 minutes may seem little but it gave me energy that can take me through days.

And although I may have not been certified to take a session, and so I called it a knowledge sharing session, it felt so good, felt so right, felt fulfilling and joyous. It combined the things I loved to do, and what more could I ask for. Seeing all those names pop up got me all excited, made me forget all my nervousness, helped calm me down and just be my joyous self.

I’ll admit I had doubts about my ability to share what I’ve leaned, cause I am no expert, just a student learning to dance. But thanks to the encouragement of my friends Shivam, and Risha and Salome (who also helped me put together the session), and the go ahead of Conrad, I was able to find it in me to do something like that. And not to forget the support, help and tips of my buddy Tanya, who came to my rescue with the stand and Bluetooth speakers. Besides how can I say no when Sangy ma’am asks!

In the end it was all worth it. It was worth dressing up and being ready on a Sunday evening, with now where to go. It was all worth it because I got to spend time with all my running buddies, albeit virtually. So seeing those names made me feel as if they were with me in the room, and that made me relax, that calmed me down, and made me want to give it my best, but most importantly, it allowed me to be me.

So when I hugged my phone in a virtual hug I felt I was not just hugging them, I was hugging myself, telling myself as I told them that we will make it through. And in those moments I found pure joy, cause I managed to do the things I loved the most!

Fugiyas... Celebrating Life!

I’ve always had these during celebrations, be it weddings, birthdays, christening, communions, and other important occasions, and sometimes, even after church on Sundays. Being brought up in a predominately East Indian neighbourhood, fugiyas was always a part of celebrating life. 

Making these little delight brought back the warmth of the memories of those celebrations, and the aunties and nanas who prepared them. So making fugiyas was in a way celebrating life, reliving those memories, honouring all the nanas and aunties I love and miss so much. In these troublesome times these memories are the soothing balm that helps to calm down a troubled mind, proving indeed why cooking is therapeutic.

Once again mumma became my Sous Chef, though she was a bit hesitant of me taking a stab at making these. But in the end she relented to my silly persistence. So while I tried to master the art of getting the perfect fugiyas (trying desperately not to get chatka from the oil due to the water on the fingers, a technique which you used to make then). The first few were had odd shapes, but then they say “practice makes perfect”, so I channelled all the aunties and nanas, slowly and steadily mastering the technique, getting the hang of making, the still not quite perfect, fugiyas. 

Well how did they taste, you may ask. Firstly, it was edible (phew, now that’s a relief), so yeah to me! They didn’t quite taste like the ones I remember and cherished having, but then these were not bad either, and tasted good. So not bad for my first attempt. In a way making these proved to be therapeutic, just what life would have prescribed.

So in the end, this little side dish brought back memories and helped relive them, and in its own way brought about a celebration of life!

Chiquitita

 She sat on her childhood bed, staring at the picture of a girl who was smiling back at her. The smile seemed oddly reassuring but it masked the pain behind the smile, just a facade. Oh how she wished she could travel back in time and warn her about what was in store for her, maybe then things would be different. Maybe she could guide her to a better and brighter future instead of going through the things she had gone through.

From her adolescence days she knew she was different. She was not like the other girls. She didn’t like doing the so called girlie things. Because of this she was always treated like an outsider, but then she didn’t much care about it. Her father didn’t find anything wrong with this but her mother constantly nagged her about it. Other than this they were supportive of her and always believed in the right balance of studies and extra curricular activities. But some how they still didn’t get her. 

So she found herself battling to come to terms with her true identity. Confusion and awkwardness reigned through her formative years. And when she finally managed to come to terms with her identity her parents couldn’t handle it. They feared of what society would say, of all the gossip, their standing. Not once did they consider her and what she was going through. Her mother blamed her father for being liberal with her and letting her do what she wanted to do, and her father blamed her mother for failing to see the signs despite being a woman herself.

She tried to block them out of her head, but their constant quarrels and bickering always occupied her head. It pushed her into a dark corner, a dark and lonely place, on the brink of a total breakdown. When she couldn’t take it any longer, she tried to put an end to it all. This sent her parents into a greater panic. They starting searching for marriage proposal for her, getting her married off to the one they thought was suitable and would bring some sense and sanity to her.

Marriage was something new to her, something she never thought about, something she didn’t want. But then she resigned to her faith and tried to settle in the ebb and flow of her new life. Like everything else, he showed his true colour once the honeymoon period was done. He often forced himself on her, when she refused his advances, calling it his right and her duty, leaving her physically and mentally abused, leaving her scarred and bruised. She tried to confide this in her parents but they just brushed it aside saying there would be chinks that would need to be fixed.

And then she discovered she was pregnant. She wanted to have an abortion cause she couldn’t get herself to bring another life into her dark and scary world. But her in laws and her husband would have none of it. The abuse became even more unbearable.

Finally she found the strength to take a stand and walk out of the life of pain that she was in. She initially stayed with a friend who was supportive of her, and also because she was not sure if her parents would ever take her back.

But life had other things in store for her. It finally took a turn for the best. One day, when her mother visited, she saw the scars on her body. That day they both had a breakdown, and in the flow of their tears their relationship thawed. In the flow of their tears and in that warm embrace they resolved to stand by each other.

She returned to her childhood with her mother, to even more tears of happiness. From that day on her parents made a promise to stand by her, no matter what, and they did. She knew it was difficult for them, as it was for her, with all the gossips and all the side way glances and whispers that would stop the minute they were seen. She knew it was difficult for them to accept and understand the situation but she could see the effort they were putting in and she was appreciative of it and was  happy to have them by her side, along with her friend. 

Together they were able to set her free from a toxic marriage, her rock through the turmoil. And when the baby came their joy knew no end. They became doting, gushing grandparents. Their acceptance influenced others who slowly began to accept and understand her. She was finally able to find her feet and live the life she wanted.

And so she found her self sitting on her childhood bed, staring at a pic from when she was little. She was on the cusp of something she had been through before but only this it was of her own will and her choice. She put the picture back in the frame and placed it at her beside. She sighed and eagerly waited for daybreak, the day she would marry the woman of her dreams.