Doll House

The huge LCD screen is continuously on throughout the day and I feel throughout the night too! Only the people sitting in front of it change- sometimes there is a man, sometimes a woman and sometimes a young girl. All these are conjectures for I can see only the head from my balcony. The screen is so huge that I am able to realize that Simpsons is their favourite show! I call them the Simpson family.

Early in the morning she stands on her balcony in shorts and t shirt and does stretching exercise facing the sun. When I wake up and pull the curtains back, I see her on the tenth floor opposite me. I meet her on and off through the day.  During my post bath leisure time when I lounge on the bed with the newspaper, I see her on the stationary cycle working out. (Did I forget to tell that she has a lovely figure?) I can’t make out how old she is but I am sure she is no young girl (they never bother with exercise!). She is the Gym girl.

Sunday mornings, I see this couple have their tea on the narrow balcony with the morning sun playing gently on the ferns that enclose them in their own private space. The lady is obviously house- proud – lots of plants and decorative pottery items with a Bankura horse standing majestically on one side. They actually talk to each other! I have seen couples who go to Café coffee day on Sunday mornings having huge mugs of coffee and talking on their respective cell phones! They are the lovely twosome for me.

He comes out, wearing a towel, to pour water on the Tulsi plant and pray to the sun. The apartment is normally shrouded with curtains so I have no idea about the other inmates of the house. I refer to him as the Pujari.

 

The swinging chair is hardly ever occupied. The house is filled with servants- one comes to dry the clothes, one to polish the balcony railings, one to sweep and mop and so on. I have yet to meet the owner who I have christened “The swinger”.

These are my regular “friends”. They are a part of my daily life. I notice them as I go about my daily routine. I do not consciously ogle at them; they are like the birds in the sky, they are there so you see them. I miss them when they do not follow their routine! I notice them in the morning as I spend most of my time at the back of the house. My evenings are spent in the front and there are no interesting people in the front apartments. Though they are lighted and there are lots of activities – I am too caught up to have the time to notice them.

One evening as I was lying down on the bed and reading, I looked up at the apartments in front of me. Each house was lighted and the curtains were pulled back. I could see the furniture and the people clearly. They looked like dolls in a doll house.

As a child I used to love playing with dolls and make up stories about them, I even made them enact my tales. Here in front of me was a living breathing doll house!

I don’t have the inclination to make up stories any longer but sometimes I do conjecture about them when I talk with Mickey.

I wonder if I am guilty of “invasion of privacy” or even voyeurism. I wonder if God himself entertains himself by sitting and looking at each one of us living life. I wonder if each of the characters in my doll house would resent the fact that I have designated them as doll figures in my sphere of existence.

I know, I most probably will never meet them. In fact I do not want to do so, as reality is so very unromantic! But if I ever do so, I will (I know) pretend that I did not know of their existence. Sometimes we get so attached to the portraits that we have created that reality makes the paint crumble and the disappointment becomes unbearable.

Do not believe that I am advocating living in an imaginary world! What I am trying to say that the real world is reality and we have to live it. It is wonderful and stressful at the same time. It is good, once in a while to escape from this dimension and explore another one where life is perfect. This does not hurt another person but helps you to de-stress.

The world is very busy now. It is also a very lonely world. All are busy with their lives and have no time for others. (You hear of people being dead in the next-door apartment and no one knows of it till the newspaper and milk packets pile up outside the door!).

These little cameos go a long way in relieving the ennui of modern life and who knows how many lessons we may learn from them.

I wonder if anyone notices my activities through the day………….

 

Moving Account!

Resettling is sometimes the devil- packing while moving to a new place is great for throwing out unwanted stuff and wallowing in nostalgia! I always go through all our photo albums while packing my favourite books (I don’t let the packers touch them!). The pleasure of looking at the baby books and going down memory lane is a pleasure which I indulge in very rarely and this is one such time.

Coming back and resettling in Mumbai had its sweet and sour moments. It was lovely to walk out and eat all our own kind of food without debating over whether it would be good or not; It was great to be able to speak with everyone and be able to understand them; it is exciting to walk into a multiplex knowing you can see any movie you want to.

On the flip side – the crowd and the traffic drove me nuts; the garbage littered roads and the pungent smell of wet dung put me off from going for walks; the gastritis that I encountered after eating out!

One great lesson I learnt during this move was the importance of a refrigerator especially in this kind of weather. I was without one for fifteen days and the amount of food stuff I have rejected during this time is colossal! Oh! The relief and pleasure of setting it up the moment it was delivered at home.

This move was a first of its kind in my life. First time Junu and I are living apart! Before moving from Alex we had to set up a small establishment for him. The packing had to be planned properly; some things would stay in Alex, most of it would be shipped to Mumbai. After a brief holiday we went back to Alex to live in “Junu’s House”. When you start living you start missing things! We found the salt cellar but its partner the pepper grinder was missing! The bed sheet was there but its pillow covers were missing!  There were dustbins galore in the tiny house (that meant we would have to go on a dustbin buying spree when we went to Mumbai!) The steel storage bins (the whole set!) had been left behind! All the tea strainers were also residing majestically in the tiny kitchen! (More buying in Mumbai)

Moving to Mumbai we were informed that our shipment was delayed (though the planning had been meticulously done so that it would arrive two days after we arrived!) but the best of plans do go awry and we moved into a partly furnished house and went on a buying spree. And did I indulge! I got colourful plates, dustbins, towels (again colourful!) bed sheets and all the cleaning implements that the maid would need and settled down.

The usual hiccups notwithstanding our roads were not too rough. I did sprain my ankle pretty badly; I did have loose motion and gastritis (after gorging on outside food!). Life goes on with its quota of small pebbles and large stones; flowers and petrichor; light and noise.

I do miss the view of the Mediterranean Sea from my house; I do miss some of the work that I did at Alex but I am more at peace here. The innate restlessness which had engulfed me has been replaced by a certain aim in life. The feeling of ennui and being in a limbo has been taken over by the numerous struggles of everyday existence in this big city. Every day there is a problem to solve and that I suppose is living life.

The newspaper headlines blare out the millions of negativity that surround us- murder, scams, accidents and natural calamities. Like all Indians, we learn to live with it and love it in spite of it. It is as if these snippets give us a sense of security that “the sky is blue and God is in his heaven and all is right with the world!” The main thing is you connect….

Some things never change, particularly the pigeon population that inhabit this city, seem to have multiplied like rabbits. This time around our balcony is netted so they can’t do much except fly against it and leave their feathers floating around! But the sudden flutter never ceases to startle me.

The weather has been kind. It’s been raining since we came, so it’s pleasant and cool. One young lady has settled down in school and another young lady is enjoying her vacation (sleeping late and staying awake late at night!). I have been driving around, each trip sprinkled with abuses at the roads, the auto drivers and the two wheelers who think the road is a race course!

It’s been good to get in touch with old friends and know that they are only a phone call away. It’s nice to get up to date with their lives. It’s been great to know that you belong (however flawed the system may be!)

I know that this is not a permanent move and I know we will move again (when and where I do not know) but this interim is a lovely breathing space and I appreciate it more than I ever have.

 

 

 

Proms and Farewells

Last minute stiches to alter your mum’s blouse to fit you; before that an extensive wardrobe searching (Mum’s)to zero in on a sari which you like; later searching for accessories and sandals to go with the final decision; arguments; counter arguments; agreeing; disagreeing… Doesn’t this remind you of at least two instances in your life? I am sure you got it- the school farewell parties after the tenth and twelfth grades in India!

The parties are still there- I see a lot of them on Facebook every year! I wonder though if they wear their mum’s saris, the blouses are so well fitted, I have a sneaking suspicion that the attire is bought specifically for the young lady in question! If a market research is done on these events, I wouldn’t be too surprised to find an extravagant amount of money being spent not only by the organizers but also by the honoured guests of the party.

The young gentlemen during our times used to beg, borrow or steal suits for these parties. The young bachelors working in Dad’s office were raided for suitable suits. Now days like the young ladies, the young men also get to buy new suits for such occasions. The advantage of having sons is that you spend less on accessories and the boys can reuse their suits. The girls of course cannot repeat the saris! Some of them donate it to their mums who make new blouses and wear them with élan!

There is a whole new story when you are outside India. There are no farewell parties’ only proms every year! Prom is short for promenade. I can see arguments in your eyes that the common meaning of promenade is a leisurely walk or a place where you go for such a walk. There are other meanings too and one of them is a ‘formal ball’ and this is what we are talking about.

Here of course no alteration of mum’s dress will do! So one goes on a shopping expedition to get a lovely new dress which will most probably never be worn again (can’t be passed on to mum either!). It should be satiny or lacy or silky- in short leaning towards the grandiose! Going through the current fashion statement it should be neither too long nor too short, the colour should be an in-colour and the accessories should not be loud but at the same time be a little funky. If you are lucky, you will get an approved dress in your third foray! You heave a sigh of relief but it is not the end.

A number of expeditions will follow, to buy the shoes, accessories and other very essential items. This is more difficult than the main dress shopping because your idea of suitable will always clash with the young lady’s idea of ‘coolness’! Soon you will be so tired that you agree with anything anyone says and you drag yourself home with battle fatigue!

All mothers need to get together and exchange notes on this ordeal. The support system should be put up a month before the D-Day! Only then can they go through and survive this tempestuous time. There are some lucky ones who have very pliant children who agree to whatever mum says (the mums are either younger or more modern than the normal ones!)

We then wait for the day- the time to arrive at the prom is acceptable to most mums but the time of returning is always a topic of discussion. Your baby is all dressed up looking much more than the current age and they are happy! The makeup style has changed from our days so there will definitely be some sulks hidden in the preparation, once or twice the make-up is removed and reapplied and lo and behold you have a sophisticated young lady on hand. The feeling of pride jostles with anxiety when you see your baby looking all grown up. That’s what life is all about and you step back and let your little one take the stage.

The interminable wait begins after this and till your little chicken is back home you flutter about like the hen.

These little instances in life prepare you for the final farewell when they leave home and begin their new lives.

Who said being a parent is easy?

 

Jump to the Spring….

All the pavement gardens are in full bloom. The yellows, pinks, reds and green are sunbathing and nodding their heads in the warm sunshine. Everything looks gorgeous and fresh; I keep clicking them with my memory camera and store it in my brain.  Like Wordsworth, I will at my leisure retrieve them and enjoy them again and again.

Spring is here! It brings with it vitality and energy. The cold winter months had dried and shrivelled me. I have been watching “Spring” on the travel channel and wallowing in the beauty of wild flowers all over the world. The camera always makes everything beautiful and larger than life. If we were to walk in the jungles like the Anchor in the program does, we would never notice these wild flowers. They are so tiny! But because the camera pick up these frames and enlarges them, we notice the beauty of these wee flowers.

When we were children, we used to go for walks with Dad; we plucked various wild flowers and carefully pressed it between the pages of a small diary. Those diaries are gone but my memories of those outings are still fresh in my mind.  If I remember correctly, we went during spring or just after the rains. The freshness in the air and the smell of life around us made us feel energetic and full of joie de vivre.  The river- bank walks or following a trail in the mountain always made me appreciate the freedom of nature. The untamed wild scenery was so much more beautiful than the pretty hedges and the artificially created gardens in any city. You, anyway, never have the time to walk on the pavement gardens! Even if you do, you get nauseated with the honks of the cars, their poisonous fumes and people walking into you!

Demeter is decorating the Earth to welcome her daughter Persephone from Hades. She never makes a mistake, every year this happens and Demeter’s happiness infuses itself in the breeze and when the wind caresses the earth it infuses the self-same joy and we are treated to a riot of colours, scents and new experiences!

Every living being is busy now. The little ants are out, the bees are buzzing, and birds are in a hurry to line their nest. The shackles of winter have been opened and all of us are testing our freedom in our own personal manner.

It’s time now to pack the coats and woollens safely. (If I had my way I would never want winter again!) Once upon a time I used to love the winters but now as I get closer to the winter of my life, I hark back at spring and summer!

People are out in droves to partake of the warm see breeze in the evenings. The food, cold drinks and tea carts are all selling their wares. The deserted seaside walks are swarming with little children and their parents; the teenagers and the couples find exciting nooks and crannies on the concrete blocks that line the sea! 

The knotted mind which had become frozen is thawing out and before the summer sun can completely melt it out, it will roll in the warm hay of life and strive to find the best state of existence.

Spring is like an aromatherapy session; it straightens the unknotted mind and spreads it out in the warmth to rejuvenate it. The many connected neurons of the brain are sending messages to each other. They are refreshing the old connections and making new connections. It’s time to jump and gambol; to lie back and look at the stars; to dust the cobwebs; to live ….; to watch the children in their simple pleasures; to be free….

 

Nail Art and More

“Colour?” she asked

I nodded my head in the affirmative. Splaying my fingers to look at them properly, I waited for the basket of nail polish bottles to be brought before me.

I became addicted to pedicure and manicure in the four years that I spent in Mumbai. There of course it was a sacred ritual! Every sitting would take at least an hour to complete and I would come off feeling refreshed. In Alex, I still have not found a similar treatment! I do indulge myself in it once in a while and have till now come out feeling dissatisfied.

This girl was better than the others, she at least held me gently unlike others who would do an excuse of a manicure and everything would be over in ten minutes! I started thinking of how much I should give her as a tip.

She came back with the basket and broke into a flood of Arabic. I looked at her questioningly. She took out three colours and showed them to me I thought she wanted me to choose and I asked her to show me the basket. Another flood of Arabic and plenty of gesticulations and I helplessly nodded my head. Her face was lit up with a huge smile and I surrendered my nails to her. I was a little apprehensive but I didn’t want to disappoint her. Worst comes to worst I would go home and remove it…

Just before she started, an irate customer came and started complaining about her nails. The poor girl tried to pacify her. Even the owner of the parlour came into the fray and said they would do it again but the customer threw harsh sounding words at her and walked off. The poor girl was in tears while she tried to explain to her boss. All this while I looked at my nails and wondered what would be my fate!

She went in and came back in a calmer mood and smiled a teary smile at me and took my hand gently in hers and began on her masterpiece. She bent her head and put the base coat…. I was still anxious about the fact that it may not suit my fingers. I looked here and there but my eyes would get riveted at what she was doing. A pale pearly pink colour followed and I thought that was it and waved my fingers about to dry them. She started on my toes with the same process and I was quite happy with the colour and relaxed. She took my hand again and using white and red colours made pretty flowers on them. It looked awesome. I started watching how she was doing them and felt it was quite easy and I was convinced I could do them at home!

I was thrilled with what she had done and gave her a large tip and told her boss that she had done a great job. It was wonderful to see the smile on everyone’s face.

I showed off the nail art to everyone at home pretending that I had done it myself! (I was quite sure I could do it myself and I was a little embarrassed that I did this without knowing about it!)

Soon it was time to refresh my nails. I removed the now fading nail art and went searching for different nail art on the internet! There were plenty and there were directions on how to do them. Putting all instructions together with my memory, I sat down to begin my art.

Alas! I tried at least ten times it never came right. The left hand would be ok but the right hand would be a mess; sometimes the thumb picture would be good but the ring finger would be a blotch.  Nobody could accuse me for not trying! The whole bottle of nail polish remover got over so I had to stop trying. With a heavy heart I just put a normal colour sans the art and kept quiet. The pound of cotton I wasted would have paid for the art in the parlour. Anyway I had to get rid of all the signs of my crime as it was already three thirty- time for the brat to come home. I didn’t want to be laughed at.

I was so frustrated that I bought myself a nail art kit. But still it never looked as good as the one the girl had done! (I wasted many hours, remover and cotton again!)

I learnt a few lessons- never lie; never think art is easy it just looks easy! Appreciate others effort honestly- it not only gives the receiver happiness it gives you happiness too. Happiness is precious; even a small smile is worth its weight in gold! Here is my confession and I feel loads lighter laughing at myself.

One advice, try nail art, it really is an amazing extension of miniature painting!

 

Heavy versus feather light

I was a trifle irritated as my usual treadmill at the gym was being used by someone! As a practice I am not usually very selfish but when I saw a very skinny middle-aged woman using “My” equipment I felt all tied up in knots. I mean why such an underweight character should need to use weight loss equipment was beyond my comprehension. I felt frustrated by just looking at her! If you had looked at me through the magic mirror you wouldn’t have been surprised to see my skin colour as green. Of course I pretended to myself that it was not jealousy but the fact that my routine was filled with obstacles of the ‘stick’ kind.

 

I took the treadmill next to it and grimaced to myself. She gave me a smile (which strangers in the gym do) but did I smile back? No I just twitched my lips for an excuse of a smile! The whole of half an hour I kept peeping at her. I had never felt more obese and bloated in my whole life. We could see each other in the huge mirror in front of us. Needless to say it was one of my worst walks……All the negative emotions like jealousy, envy, anger and irritations were taking turns to occupy my mind. It wasn’t fair, here I had a good reason to be on the treadmill and I didn’t get my favourite one and there was one person who didn’t need to but was wasting her time and mine by walking at a slow pace beside me!

 

Though in the following days she did not use my treadmill, I still did not like her. God was trying to emphasize my obesity by letting her loiter around me! She even went to the sauna which I hadn’t even tried. I wanted to ask her why she was torturing her poor body through all these activities. She looked like an unstrung bean. I learnt to control my negative emotions and continued my activities and ignored her. (Though I wished she would change her timings!)

When I went after the weekend to the gym, I could hear the rumble of the machines outside the door. I sighed and opened the door expecting to see Ms. Beans…. but to my surprise she wasn’t there instead Ms. Pumpkin was there! (Thankfully not on ‘My’ machine!). She was almost three times my size and her complexion was orange like a pumpkin. (Hence my christening her with that name!) What a day it was. “Look at me”, I said to myself, “I am so slim”

 

I felt positively upbeat and smiled at her but I got paid back with my own coin, she grimaced at me!

 

“Huh!” I said to myself, “I won’t waste my smiles on someone who doesn’t appreciated it”

 

I was now all positive, I walked at a faster pace not feeling in the least tired. I even hummed along as the calories-used piled up faster and faster. In short, I was in seventh heaven! I did some extra workouts and still hung around trying the other machines.

 

One week of feeling good! I looked forward to my workouts every day. I saw my co walker trying weights and other machines in the gym and I had started toying with the idea of following suit… maybe next week, I said to myself.

 

The next week Ms. Beans was back! So was Ms. Pumpkin! They were both on the treadmill but not on mine! I felt as if the balloon of happiness had been pricked. Later I wondered why. I was in equilibrium now with both of them beside me I did not touch either the zenith or the nadir! I was where I should be in between!

 

Both it seemed were best friends; chattering away with each other nineteen to a dozen; smiling at each other and talking excitedly; they were having a gala time. They smiled at me, an open hearted one and I reluctantly smiled back. True happiness is infectious. I felt at peace, although I wasn’t actually flying, I was walking with light steps and God in his own way put me in my place. I learnt a lesson that deep depression and ecstasy were temporary emotions. Truth alone triumphs and is permanent.

 

 

 

Dictatorial Mind!

The weather has been rather tiring this winter. My plants and I have suffered the most. The plants get dry (the soil) very soon because of the wind but it’s so cold that I feel sorry giving them water! All of them look a little shrivelled up but they are fighting a winning battle against their recently turned foe “the weather.” My mind has taken a great thrashing in the boxing ring of survival (Hence my calls for help in my last blog write up!)

The sun has been annoyed with me and is punishing me for all my complaints against him during summer! I have learnt a lesson (a common one “too much of anything is bad”!) The other day when the sun had deigned to come out, we were all in the field. I loved it- I refused to wear a cap or dark glasses- I just soaked it up like a parched desert (forgive my mixed-up metaphors!) The green looked brighter; the water clearer; the people all around me wonderful and the world was shining with happiness and joy.

Today has been a good day so far. There is a spring in my step and my befuddled mind has cleared up considerably as against the foggy sky of Alexandria!

As I waited for the lift, I felt something tapping at my feet like a rap on the door. Surprised I looked down to see my old friend the potato. He looked a little battle scarred but nonetheless still firm and handsome with plenty of eyes all over him!

“Hi!” I said happily

 

Without a word of greeting he plunged in to criticize me behaviour.

“Where were you all these days? Don’t come out to visit me at all! In fact on Friday you went for a walk with your husband and you didn’t even look at me!” all these were fired at me rapidly.

Without waiting for a reply he continued, “You know how difficult it is for me to leave my bed and family and come to meet you!”

“I hid in the corner in case someone picked me and threw me in the dustbin and that would have been my end!” he continued grumpily

There was no point in arguing with him. I just picked him up carefully and walked out towards his bed….

“I have been very down and I didn’t feel like coming out at all. Everything was just the opposite of today!”

“You mean it was hot and sunny …. What I wouldn’t do for such days” he said longingly

“No! No! I didn’t mean the weather I meant my mind” I tried to explain

“Pooh!” he said irritated, “the problem with you humans is you give too much importance to your mind! Look at the other species; we don’t have any problems with our minds! Mind is just an overrated engine with plenty of buttons to be pushed. All you need is to push the right button and everything is hunky dory!

 

How could I explain to my friend that human life is much more complex than theirs and the number of buttons are so many it sometimes takes a whole lifetime to discern and choose the right ones.

Promising to be a more sociable person I laid him down on his bed and covered him with warm mud so that the fog and mist swirling around would miss him and leave him in peace.

As I walked back home, I wondered if Pots was right. Do we really give too much importance to our mind and allow it to rule our lives like a dictator?

A quarter of the world is fighting for democratic rights; shouldn’t I too fight and get my democracy back? After all I have a heart and a soul and a body; shouldn’t they have a fighting chance to rule me?

The mind has had fun with me. Tossing me to and fro between despair and hopelessness but has left me to pick up my pieces and glue myself together again. It has been a tyrant but maybe it has lost a battle for I am out of the pit.

Whatever be the verdict today I know I have been pulled up from my lightless pit only through the help of my family and friends. I have at last realized the value of society….