Embracing the discomfort

My life swears to obey by the famous French saying, the only thing constant in life is change. Conquering the apprehensiveness, skepticism and anxiety that comes along with the nearing ‘change’ surely seems a task big enough to discourage many ‑ for others, growing and evolving is a message every second ticking away leaves in mind.

So, I made my mind to move ahead in my professional life having left behind a plethora of memories which were weaved, thread by thread, in the three years I had spent in my previous organization. I feel it’s absolutely correct that when there are no external forces to make you feel uncomfortable, you never feel the need to break the cocoon of comfort and step out. That’s why, along with change, one thing that I would happily embrace all my life would be ‘discomfort’. This feeling of uneasiness made me feel I am worth more and the belief paved my way to success and a more worthy life.

Stepping into the change and finally experiencing it have been two exciting phases in my recent life. I dare say that I am living the dream of millions—no matter how dearly I thank my God for this, it will still be less. Living every bit of my entrepreneurial role, I feel I am no less than a CEO of a big MNC. Thankfully, the atmosphere I got is conducive enough to write my success story without considering any punctuation marks. Did I say before that I am a real lucky bum; anyways, I don't mind tossing a flying kiss to sky again!

Lastly, the learning life has made me take back home is:

The person who risks nothing, does nothing, has nothing, is nothing, and becomes nothing. He may avoid suffering and sorrow, but he simply cannot learn and feel and change and grow and love and live.

Homecoming

I have grown up listening to numerous stories my mom has been telling me about the things she used to do, things she expected and things she never thought she would experience when my dad sadly stayed away for weeks or, sometimes, months while serving the nation. Marrying a defence personnel comes with a price tag, she feels, as she concedes that the distance, more than anything else, makes you go weak from inside, making you worry about the well being of the person besides not letting you concentrate on anything but the person. 

Frankly, I never took those stories too seriously; heck, I mostly listened to those seeing how excited my mom was to share all of her experiences with me. Amongst all the stories that she had to tell, letters was a common aspect that she used to focus on. Letters, according to her, took a week to reach the recipient and thus, left the sender guessing why and what she was talking about two weeks back when she would finally receive a response to the same.

My fiancé-to-be has just come back from England, a place where he feels his heart lies. While he was away for 1.5 months, I found myself right there, in the shoes of my mom, living all the stories she'd told me, as if they all were scripted considering me as the protagonist. The only difference here was the fact that it was way easier for me to communicate with him; thanks to the ICE age we dwell in.

This communication was one of the reasons why I feel I have visited London myself; my eyes, it looked, were roaming around with my body being very much sedentary. Now that he is back, his homecoming has brought a lot of reasons to jump around with joy and make merry—the GIFTS that I have been pampered with. I feel I have been adequately compensated for all the worry, anxiety, concern and most of all, well-wishes I had invested in him for all the time when he was away. 

Here is a glimpse of all his love wrapped in lovely gifts.

That's a jacket he's brought for my brother.

That's the kind of bag I'v always wanted to have.

Loads and loads of delicious chocolates :)

Soliloquy: Who cares anyway!

When the things that happen around have way more impact on the atmosphere within; when the perceptions, opinions, thoughts and interpretations all battle amongst themselves to have a stand; when the matters boiling over in mind seem too crazy to be spilt out; when the world looks like a crazy sphere and us the sanest mortals alive; when fluxing out what mind has to say becomes a necessity and identifying who will understand it perfectly seems too much of a task, speaking to oneself DOES help; soliloquy, in fact, then acts like a medicine, an elixir or a monitor who ensures that sanity is in place.

When seen being practiced in public, it looks absurd but soliloquy is something which we all do, at some point, at least once in a day. While walking on my way back home one evening, I saw this half-awake, heavily drugged person lying on the footpath loudly complaining about the system, talking to himself, completely oblivious to the people passing by him. Living alone, may be, in a noisy world has made him struggle too much for silence in his life. For once, I did not see anything funny in his behavior; he did not look as if he has lost it or if he is a daft. He looked normal, a person who did not have a live person to talk to or to bounce ideas off of.

I, in fact, love this concept, of talking to self. This practice brings along multiple benefits which goes like follows. Firstly, since I am not saying the trash (that comes to my mind way too often) in front of the person who it is about, I’m saving my ribs from being broken or my face being deformed. I happily stay insured and safe. Secondly, there will be no complex in self-accusation. I could build upon the feeling of being wrong, identify the factors that could have averted the trouble and the things I could possibly do in future to insure I do not make an ape of myself again. Thirdly, I could criticize, applaud, appreciate, make commitments, over-estimate and curse myself without having to take anything on my ego. Everything, anyway, remains at home, no?

Further, I could discuss my dreams, no matter how absurd they may sound, and the possible steps I would want to take in order to inch them closer without having to explain whys and hows. I would want to learn belly dancing, dress in a neon-colored bikini, sip the most expensive wine on a private beach, become a multi-billionaire in a perfectly legal way, buy a lottery ticket every weekend, adopt a cub and NOT explain the ‘why’ part to anyone on the planet.

Lastly, when I am talking to myself, I might appear kooky to everyone but never to myself. I know I am the sanest person around with sound sense of judgment and fine taste in all spheres. Case Closed!

 

Sharing the Anglo-Western dream

This topic has been boiling over in my mind since quite a few days now, not because I am inching closer to changing my relationship status but because this concept seems much more worthy and substantive now that I have grown up.

Back in teenage, when major share of time was spent watching good old bollywood movies, cribbing about oldies romancing and humming aloud cheesy romantic songs, I always wondered how a man could bend on his knees so as to propose his love, giving up his chauvinism, the feeling he is worthier.  No, not me, it was the society in which was I brought up which is to be blamed for my frame of mind for I seldom saw men giving up to a woman.

On my way to maturity in terms of age and everything else, I have felt the wind of change. The Anglo-Western concept of bending on knees in order to pop the age-old-yet-romantic question ‘Will you marry me’ is no longer an ego issue with the masculine breed. I feel a modern city girl, once at least, daydreams of being proposed that way—the man in her life bent on his knees, with a ring (the metal doesn’t matter; or it does? O_o) in his hand, putting in all the efforts possible so as to hear a YES.

There is another perspective from where things might not look that rosy and admirable. It’s when the person in front is not desirable; who is a chump whom the girl has been looking for ways to not encounter ever. If such an unwanted person proposes someone, denying the proposal becomes more so an awkward and embarrassing thing to do, for proposals in public inadvertently attract eyeballs and many awwwws from the people around. Being prompt and opting an affordably sensible way seldom comes handy. Firstly, saying ‘no’ might as well make things worse besides making a public show. The fact that the person who is proposing should better be prepared to hear a negative response never finds its way to reality. Combating conventional prejudice that if a man has accepted superiority of a woman and her decisions,  she will have to say ‘yes’ no matter what stops her from doing that is quite a tough job.

I hope the modern generation learns to listen a ‘no’ whenever they bend on their knees to pop the question.  Aping West, if is done in a manner that advances us, should never be a loathsome subject. After all, chucking user manual to try hands at something afresh might not always prove you a geek. Showing true sportsmanship possibly could!

Sleep all day. Party all night. Never grow old. Never die.

If a person says he does not like to party, chances are he hasn’t met crazy animals of his like. Partying might not always mean wearing as less /better as possible, boozing and hitting the floor, dancing like no one’s watching, saying what might look foolish otherwise, shouting at the top of one’s voices, gormandizing on great food, cribbing hearts out, crying, laughing or in short wasting time ‘living your life’. It might also mean the above lines paraphrased! 

On my way to growing up, I might have attended numerous parties, with families, friends, people I don’t know or rather don’t remember, and for a number of random reasons, one of which also includes my friend’s losing her iPhone 5—that calls for a party too! 

So now, all eyes are set on me, for I am going to play host to the most tantalizing, happening, wishful, legal, and, of course, most tasteful culinary adventure in the town,  MY PARTY where everyone but the ones I choose to invite are allowed to watch and sigh from either outside the gates or from terraces of their homes.

Here’s how the invitation card would look like:

Click to expand

The most pataakhedaar-dhamaakedaar event calls for an extra-special invite too. The location has to be our own home. The reason why I am choosing my home as the venue is because it will prove to be a nice place for overnight stay for guests who wouldn’t feel like going back home after an exhaustive evening. Another reason which should better be kept under the wraps is that by partying at my home, I will end up saving a lot on setting up a venue and thus, could spend much much more on good food.

Now, because the party seeks the guests to dress down and come in the attire of the place where they would want to settle having retired from work, it would be great fun to see everyone’s wishes so explicitly exhibited. 

Another glorious aspect of my party—the food—would be a perfect concoction of the best of north, west, south and east, so that all the guests could foresee their retirement days and imagine themselves having the best of what their dreamland could offer. All the parts of the meal, be it starters, main course, desserts or drinks will showcase what our country is popularly known for. Since hard drinks are common to all the states, that clause will be kept open and the best of booze will be made available.

So now, the stage is all set. We know where we have to go and how we have to look like, what we would be gormandizing on and what is there to gulp down and look pie-eyed. The only thing left is to design an agenda. The agenda which would clearly say, Sleep all day. Party all night. Never grow old. Never die. ♥

7 PM: Meet and greet our clan. No kisses-in-the-air allowed—it has to show on *cheeks* if at all it has to happen.

7:30 PM:  Let’s dive into chitchatting and see where all of us want to settle and why.  Why everyone feels life after retirement would be better than now. Time to let the cat out of the bag!

8:30: Starters are up-for-grabs *only till the stock lasts*

8:45: Dance floor is open to be rocked and rolled. Get the best out of you today.

9:30 – 11:00: Pamper your taste buds with the best delicacies out there.  

11:00: Cards, carom, PlayStation, dance floor, gossips, show-off, food, everything is available if you wish to be further pleased!  

12:00: Head home or to the bed. The best of the dreams are waiting for you to close your eyes.

Anyway, no one looks back on their life and remembers the nights they got plenty of sleep. I hope all my guests remember the pleasant experience plenty of spare time and reason to celebrate brings along!

I remember a saying which makes me want to revel even more, if life is a waste of time and time is a waste of life, then let’s get wasted and have the time of our lives.

This blog is an entry to the contest ‘My Gourmet Party’ happening on Indiblogger.com. Know more at http://shopping.kitchensofindia.com/ and see what best Kitchens of India could offer you. 

Sans the better half

The pain of losing someone close, close enough to quickly forget the loss, is what has engaged my mind all this while. My maternal grandmother (Nani) left for her heavenly abode on 6th of this month. The news was something which we knew was going to float, keeping in view her bad health, but was something which we were never, not at all, prepared to hear.

Writing this blog, as if putting a spell on me, has made me weep silently. Having seen her for a lifetime, I can determinedly say that some part of her is alive in me, and of course, in the people who had met her too frequently to call her an acquaintance. A true sweetheart, she shall stay irreplaceable in my mind; nor do I intend to ever let her memories go off it.  

In all the ceremonies which had to happen post she cashed in her chips, I saw a lot of relatives, who I had seldom seen before, coming, crying, sympathizing, condoling and leaving for their homes—as if doing some formality. I saw distant relatives explaining why the death should not be cried over much, as she was really ill, has left flourishing family behind, had seen three healthy generations or was just old enough to live anymore. I also saw people joining in just to catch up with other relatives and to exchange numbers. This really broke my heart.

 

Despite the overfriendly mannerism of our sweet relatives, I see a person who has been, undoubtedly, affected the most because of what happened to my Nani, my maternal grandfather (Nana)—the man who had spent more than 55 years of his life with this lady. Honestly speaking, I had never seen my Nana publicly cuddling my Nani or showing his affection in any manner out in the sun. For the best part of my life, I believed that my Nana doesn’t love her at all. My mindset, how amazingly, got changed in just four days!

Their bond has been a very queer, yet an interesting one. My Nana has been chronically dependent on my Nani, right from the time when he got married to her, for all the things you could think of. My Nani was literally his right hand. When old age approached both of them, they had this cute way of expressing love to each other, by just being there. One’s aura always helped the other get over any disease, big or small, without much fight.

I could say that they never loved each other, I never saw my Nana running extra mile for my Nani, doing anything which could make her smile, but I now see that the love that they shared was above earthly matters of pleasing or appeasing. The presence of one was love to the other. The feeling that the togetherness will defeat all the problems defined their love. Old age hasn’t been easy on anyone, but standing with a big bat to fight them out together was love to my grandparents. I remember my Nana complaining to me that Nani doesn’t bother to have all her checkups done on time and my Nani saying, ‘Inki mat sun, inko kuch pata nahi hota’…
 

 
Now, standing at this point in his life, I see my Nana the loneliest person on this planet. Fighting with old age alone will be looking heck a big task. I see their love now, more evidently. I see him looking at her bed and losing to some thought process. I see his eyes, as if waiting for some miracle. I see my Nana crying his guts out, giving up to the fact that death defeats all. There’s no big bat to fight this away. I salute their love which was there, invisible to all of us. The love was in togetherness, the love is in the aura.