tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-328991792024-03-12T21:10:39.766-07:00Shree's ScribblesShreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11629598748594883729noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32899179.post-77874820646664535812007-08-31T03:00:00.000-07:002007-09-19T11:00:44.935-07:00Crossing Thirty Five ......<div align="justify">It has been quite a long time since my last post. The reason being, my having started working again. It's been two months and the last two months were spent in trying to get a grip of the new work and in settling down in the new set up. I have been thinking of writing for some time in the last two months but have not managed to do so, as mentally I have been so <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">pre-</span>occupied in learning the new job that trying to rein my thoughts would have been impossible.<br /></div><div align="justify">However the actual reason <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">I'm</span> back here though I have had to literally steal the time to, is because another birthday just went by and how could I not have a post to sum up all the celebrations in order to cross over to the other side of 35 as I just turned 36. This year unlike the last, I though I would celebrate my birthday with my closest family and with people to whom the day matters as much as it does to me. Having said that it was obvious who would be the first one on my guest list- Ma. About a month back I sent her the tickets to come to Chennai on the 17th of August so that she could not, not turn up. The day before she came, my sister reached, as she had managed to club a work assignment in Chennai for about the same time.<br /><br />I had decided that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Pondicherry</span> would be a good place to getaway over the weekend to celebrate my birthday as it is barely two hours from Chennai. The drive is so <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">beautiful</span>, as the road that is the East Coast Road, winds along the sea side all the way to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Pondicherry</span>. There is another reason I chose <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Pondicherry</span> and that is my sister and my-self had gone to boarding school in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Chandannagar</span>, another French colony <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">equi</span>-distant from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Kolkata</span> as <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Pondicherry</span> is to Chennai, on the banks of the river <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Hoogly</span>. The river strand and the strand road which our dormitories overlooked is much like the beach side in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Pondicherry</span>. The two towns are quite <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">similar</span> with their French style buildings and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">beautiful</span> river/sea side views. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">In fact</span> both have a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Duplei</span> house which are now museums and the arrangement of the buildings are identical.<br /><br />Mom and Dad came every birthday to meet us and bring us our birthday cake and goodies which we shared with our friends over tea time and distributed the sweets and chocolates to everyone in the refectory at breakfast time. Birthdays in those days were happy events which we spent with our friends but some how I would want to go home at the end of the day to spend the evening with my parents so the fact that I could not and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">in fact</span> not even go out of the school premises also made me sad and feel jailed in. I never liked, well that I should say is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">very</span> mildly put and an understatement as I actually detested boarding school and was a very sad child throughout. I was quiet , reserved and very shy. I still remember Sister Angelina once having a chat with my mother in the school field just <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">beside</span> the high/broad jump pit asking her to take me home and make me study as a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">day scholar</span> as she felt that I was too timid and staying with family would draw me out of my shell. Ma was not convinced or she might have had her reasons, as I remained in the boarding all of my school life.<br /><br />I am not sure till now who was more right Ma or Sister Angelina as it was only after school and college when I started living at home and working, that I actually came out of my shell and underwent a drastic change in my personality. Now I am better known as extroverted, friendly and the like but till I was out of my teens I used to be painfully shy and withdrawn. Honestly I had hated school and everything about it while I was there but as I passed out and moved on in life I started to think back fondly about life then, as I could now watch my life from the freedom of being out of what at that time I thought was prison. I hated being told when to wake up ,when to bathe, eat or sleep as <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">in spite</span> of being shy I was very independent since I was a kid and did not take well to being told to do anything. That is the case even now but conditioning from those days has lasted with me and I am an organized and disciplined person by and large.<br /><br />Life in boarding school made me strong, stronger than I could ever have been had I lived at home in addition to the discipline that is an inherent part now of who I am and able to handle so much capably. It is what I learnt in those days in the so called "prison" that has made me what I am today so after all I have to admit now more that 20 years after I left school that Ma was right to keep us there after all and not that I had not realized it earlier. I realized quite early, just about when I started working that what I had learnt there was much more than academics. There were so many skills I had acquired in my days there that has helped me both personally and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">professionally</span>. However Sister Angelina was not wrong either as till date I am a person who can sometimes feel lonely even in a crowd and still take time to open up to people or be demonstrative about my feelings or have a great dependence or closeness to family. Perhaps if my mother in law understood this about me she would know that my not so great affinity to her is nothing personal about her but just the way I am and would perhaps accept that she was not blessed with a daughter-in-law who could be a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">daughter</span> after all .<br /><br />Talking about school could fill pages but the choice of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">Pondicherry</span> as a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">place</span> to spend my birthday with my Ma and Sister had a totally nostalgic reason and I could actually picture my -self in the blue pleated skirts, white shirts and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">ribboned</span> plaits on the banks of the H<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">oogly</span> when we were taken on walks in straight files of two or three. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Pondichery</span> seemed like such a perfect place in addition to it being so close to Chennai to go with Ma as she has so many good memories of the time she spent on her <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">visits</span> to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">Chandannagar</span> over the 10 years that we studied there. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">In fact</span> our school, with its French roots also has a branch in P<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">ondicherry</span>.<br /><br />My husband was somehow very opposed to the idea of going to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">Pondicherry</span> then for some reason but I was adamant and had even decided that we were going with or without him.<br />We that is Ma, Sister, hubby and my-self planned to leave at 8 am but finally made it by 9am .My brother-in-law was also supposed to come but could not make it due to an urgent meeting which had come up. On the way we also stopped at a nice resort MGM on the east coast road by the sea side for a buffet breakfast and spent some time there. On the entire drive my sister was adamant on having the AC on, while my husband would have preferred the sea breeze. While she listened to his CD’s of old Hindi film songs on the car music <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">system</span> seated in front to ensure she had total monopoly to the choice in songs. My husband sat behind with the ear phone of his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">ipod</span> place, listening to his "own" music. Ma and me however looked out at the view and chatted. I could not help wondering at my effort to have my closest family close to me for my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37">Birthday.</span></div><div align="justify"><span class="blsp-spelling-error"></span><br />We reached <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43">Pondicherry</span> by mid after noon and checked into this really nice heritage villa called Hotel-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44">du</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45">parc</span> which is located right <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46">infront</span> of the A<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47">uro</span> ville gift shop close to the beach, the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48">Aurobindo</span> ashram as well as the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49">Ganapati</span> temple. We had two adjacent and connecting rooms which was convenient as we left it opened and that made the whole room nice and big. Some time after reaching we decided to go on a drive around the city as Ma was not <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50">up to</span> walking and moreover it was a Saturday and she fasts on <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_51">Saturdays</span> since even before I was born so there was little energy that she had, trying to keep at her fasts at the age of 67.<br /><br /><br /><br />I was caught in between trying to do what my sister wanted to do, how my mother wanted to rest and my husband wanting to explore the town. In the e<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_52">vening</span> we all went for a stroll and though I was really tired, freshened up and went out to the hotel restaurant with my husband while my Sister called room service. Anyways I remember going to sleep <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_53">thankful</span> that the day ended peacefully and I was able not to displease either of them. The next day we had breakfast in the open rooftop <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_54">restaurant</span> which was very pretty and then went out to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_55">Aurobindo</span> Ashram and then later checked out and drove down to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_56">Auroville</span>. My sister wanted to go as she thought she may never get the opportunity again and my husband did not want to go as he knew there could be other trips when he would <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_57">visit</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_58">Auroville</span>. So again there I was in the middle of conflicting choices but I decided that we should go as it was my idea to bring Ma and Sis here so I would ensure that they did not miss anything as there is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_59">little</span> chance of Ma coming back here again.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_60">Auroville</span> was a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_61">beautiful</span> place and I just loved the quaintness of the village which is home to over 1600 people of numerous nationalities who were well occupied in various charitable jobs there and seemed so <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_62">peaceful</span>. I could not help thinking that some day I would love to live there too where the sole purpose of your living is to be of use to others instead of living life running after what you can get for your-self and never being satisfied with what you have. I wondered if that is what I wanted out of life having crossed over to the wrong side of 35, but wasn't it a little early in life to feel the desire to denounce life and live in an Ashram after all. Somehow whenever we go on a holiday I dont want to return home but we returned to Chennai by evening and my sister took the last flight back to Bangalore that night while Ma stayed on till after my birthday and I went back to work the next day to continue living a life I feel has not much meaning other than just a sheer existence.</div>Shreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11629598748594883729noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32899179.post-58196199620085215532007-06-30T09:28:00.000-07:002007-09-15T09:20:26.061-07:00Bangalore<div align="justify">Two days after my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Kolkata</span> trip my husband and myself went to Bangalore where my sister lives. While in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Kolkata</span> I had told her that I would visit her before I started working again but she insisted that we come right away as there were so many parties lined up on the four nights that we spent in Bangalore. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">The 6<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">th</span> of June was their third wedding anniversary so we decided to leave them alone for the day and reached Bangalore on the 7<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">th</span>. We took the morning <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Shatabdi</span> Express and their driver picked us up from the railway station and took us to her office on MG Road and having collected the keys to her apartment we went for lunch to this nice place on Cunningham road called Fresco which happened to be a favourite of my husband's, it was my first time and it was nice. I also liked this place "100ft" on 100ft road, Indira <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">nagar</span> which was quite <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">similar</span> in that both are boutique restaurants to which my sister had taken me on my last visit, and kept insisting on taking him there but gave in to his wish .</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Though we wanted to leave my sister and her husband to celebrate their anniversary by them-selves, they waited for us to come so that we could all go o<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">ut</span> to dinner together with some of their other friends as they were taking a seven day trip to the Maldives to celebrate their anniversary in a few days anyways. We went to their place after lunch and met up with them at the Windsor Manor poolside restaurant called The Afghan where they had reserved a table for 9pm. The food was good and the weather was excellent so it was a very pleasant evening. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">The next evening we went for this party at the Leela <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Kempenski</span> " which was a fashion show and launch of the new lines of some well known designers like <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Anamika</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Khanna</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Tarun</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Tahiliani</span> and "Kipling" bags. A close f<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">riend</span> of mine from my early work days who happened to be in Bangalore, and another close friend from college and her husband who are also settled in Bangalore joined us and overall we had a really good time. The evening after that we went to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">launch</span> party of a health club and spa and the event was organized by <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">FTV</span> and most of the people there were same as the night before.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Since</span> my sister and her husband were leaving on their M<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">aldives</span> trip and since my close f<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">riend</span> from college also lives just a block away from my sisters we decided to stay another day at their place and were entertained to very good Bengali food as her mother happened to be there on one of her visists and she knew me for ages and my taste in food.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">We returned to Chennai early <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">monday</span> morning. Reaching Chennai from Bangalore is in many ways a shock, for one the heat strikes you hard on your face and so does the visibly vastly different culture.<br /></div><div align="justify"></div><p align="justify"><br /><br /></p><div align="justify"></div><p align="justify"><br /><br /></p><div align="justify"></div>Shreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11629598748594883729noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32899179.post-80490008466218175012007-06-18T04:10:00.000-07:002007-06-30T09:28:11.916-07:00Moving On<div align="justify">The fifteen days that I spent in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Kolkata</span> were very <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">eventful</span>. I made up for the lack of socialising for the last year in Chennai, as I hardly know anyone here yet. I met up with all my friends and relatives who still happen to live in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Kolkata</span> many of whom have also moved out like me . Most days I would be invited to lunch or dinner to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">someones</span> house and on certain days my friends even had get <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">together's</span> so that I could meet up with everyone without having to go meeting everyone individually. </div><p align="justify">My days enfolded like this..... I would go for a morning walk to the Central Park in Salt Lake or take a walk around my neighbourhood in Salt Lake. The first few days I went along with Ma but soon realised that walking at her pace would give me no real exercise as I badly needed it from the amount I had been eating since coming to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Kolkata</span>, what with all the invitations and everyone making my favourite dishes. </p><p align="justify">After the walk I would return home to the morning tea and newspaper reading at my favourite place either on the cane chair in the front balcony if the sun was not up too hot or at the head of our huge dining table so that I could spread the pages of the newspaper all out. Then when Ma returned from her walk I would have an elaborate breakfast as Ma was trying to revive my lost one time good looks as she would put it. </p><p align="justify">Then I would spend the morning chatting with Ma and once it was time for her to leave for work( she still looks after <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Baba's</span> Printing Press) I would get ready and go to catch up with my friends or whatever else I had to do and try and be back by 8 Pm by the time she returned. All dinner invitations I would take Ma along. I wanted to spend as much time as possible with her as once I left she would be alone again. </p><p align="justify">In addition to everything else I did in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">kolkata</span> I also happened to meet up with my ex-boyfriend and his wife. Now its not like I had not been in touch with them earlier. Strange as it may sound his wife actually had been calling me up lately in Chennai to take my advice on various factors of her new life that is her husband and her in-laws. He had <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">introduced</span> her to me over the telephone and somehow she seemed to have taken a liking to me and felt she could trust me enough to complain about him and ask my advice on how to deal with him and his folks. </p><div align="justify">We met up on a couple of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">occasions</span> and they even took me out to dinner at the restaurant "Tangerine" and we managed to have a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">wonderful</span> time though I have to admit it seemed strange at some points. His wife for one would go into total silence for a few seconds while I kept talking endlessly to fill in those silences. We ladies even shared a plate of lamb chops which they make excellently as well as had the same cocktails, two bloody <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Marys</span> each and she could not stop raving about my choice of restaurant and the food. I was surprised that they had not been there earlier considering it was such a favourite and it was the first restaurant I had taken my husband to on our trip to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">kolkata</span>.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Watching the two of them together was like looking at old photo albums, you look at each picture and remember the situations around the picture and smile at those thoughts as most of them would have happy memories attached to them. </div><div align="justify">Now isn't "moving on" all about <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">forgetting</span> the bad, remembering the good and being happy in the present. </div><p align="justify"><br /></p><div align="justify"></div>Shreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11629598748594883729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32899179.post-18272559778378464582007-06-06T06:40:00.000-07:002007-06-06T08:23:13.034-07:00Home Coming.....<div align="justify">I came back from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Kolkata</span> on the 4<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">th</span> of June, after a fifteen day stay which was absolutely relaxing, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">fruitful</span>, enjoyable and perfect. But isn't that how a trip back home to mama after a year of being married and taking on all the responsibilities of a new household is supposed to be.</div><div align="justify">I would love to recount the incidents of my visit but I will take it one at a time and start with the day I reached. </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">I landed in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Kolkata</span> Airport on the 21st of May at 6.30 Pm to a thundering sky and lashing rains. It seemed like the perfect welcome and respite from the immense heat of Chennai. I felt like even the Gods were blessing my visit or was it Dad showering his love from the heavens because it is there that he lives, in the heavens over <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">kolkata</span>. </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">I had asked Ma not to come to the Airport as the driver was on leave and so I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">proceeded</span> to take a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">pre</span>-paid cab home but not before nostalgically looking about the airport which once not so long ago used to be my second home. I was working with one of the premier airlines of today from 1995 to 2001 and looking after service quality knew every part or rather nook and corner of the airport like the back of my hand. Most of the staff of the airline except the loaders have changed but the airport authority staff as well as the guys in the snacks and coffee counters and the very loyal Indian airlines staff remain the same. </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">Most of these people still love me and consider me an integral part of the airport and flash me the most welcoming smile when I pass.The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">pre</span>-paid Taxi counter guys give me my token out of turn asking why I bother to queue. I stopped and said Hi to as many people as I came face to face with all of them asking me where I now was. Now wouldn't you call all of this a real home coming.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">When the Taxi reached our gate our twenty year's old <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">watchman</span> whom we lovingly call <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Darwanji</span> came and took the bags from the car <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">dickey</span> and handing the taxi token to the driver as well as beaming a broad smile at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Darwanji</span> and asking how he was rushed upstairs to the second floor where Ma lives. She has let out the first two floors as it helps her <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">maintain</span> the house and provides some company in the huge house where she is all alone except for a full time maid. </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">Looking at Ma I was both happy as well as sad. Happy for the very obvious reason but sad because each time I see her lately she seems to have aged more. One reason being the sixty six years she has lived but more so from the loneliness and sadness of living in a house which just a year and more back was inhabited by the family she loved. My sister moved to Bangalore and got married three years or so back, then <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Baba</span> passed away about a year later and then I got married and left a year back.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">Often I wonder at life.....one has a family and all when one has the strength to live alone and believe me Ma is one of the strongest women I or rather the world has seen and then just when you need a family the most you ironically are left to deal with time alone. I was so happy to be home and happier that I would be staying for sometime. I quickly took a walk around the house to see whether everything was like the way I left it and believe me it was intact. Ma does not move a thing since we all left, not even the things she should, somehow all that makes things at home just the way they were even twenty years back and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">that's</span> what I love about the place. </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">The familiarity, security, warmth and the memories all frozen in time as if nothing had changed. Ma has not thrown away even the bed clothes and table cloth that were there a couple of years back when we all lived there, though they are immaculately taken care of. At the dining table I sat at my usual place at the head of the table which I had shifted to, the day Baba passed away so that the emptiness of that chair which Baba had occupied for years would not haunt me and Ma. </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">I still remember the moment when I sat on that seat after Baba's death, Ma looked at me with a strange look which I have not been unable to decipher till date. Was she relieved that it would not be empty after all or was she uspet that I had sat at his place. Somehow I could not bear to see the place vacant as it would constanly remind me of Baba's absence and that was the reason I had shifted there. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Our housekeeper</span> whom we call "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">mashi</span>" (<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">auntie</span>) <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">had</span> prepared an elaborate meal with so many items that I had to skip the rice and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">roti</span> to be able to taste them all. </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">I kept all my stuff in my room which had been mine ever since we moved into the house in 1987 and though I wanted to sleep there that night for old time's sake I slept with Ma on her side of the bed as she had since the night of Baba's death shifted to his side of the bed for the very same reason that I had taken Baba's place at the table. Somehow I could never get my-self to garland Baba's photographs at home or allow anyone to do so. All of Baba's photographs, even the portraits we had put up after he passed away were never ever garlanded. All the pictures stand till date like he were still alive and alive he is.....in our hearts and in our home. My mother says she feels his strong presence there and stongly believes that he wathces over her........ I am sure he does and its still feels like when we all lived there.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"> </div>Shreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11629598748594883729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32899179.post-86478711131319481592007-05-18T22:18:00.000-07:002007-05-19T00:48:44.062-07:00One Year Gone by - My first wedding anniversary<div align="justify">It has been so long since my last post that I thought of starting out again with a totally new look front page. The reason for my rather long absence being the multi-faceted happenings of my life. The first happening being that I quit my job in time for my first wedding anniversary so we could go for our so called honey moon as we have not had the time to take one.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><p align="justify">I should have taken a break much earlier or maybe just after I moved to Chennai after I got married. I really don't know how many of you careerists out there would think it was a wise decision, or would consider it suicidal to my 14 year career. On the job front things were not going the way I had wanted it to and the unhappiness with the current organization and responsibility added to my totally stressed out live, made me quit without sparing a thought to what it could do to my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">career</span>. No good advice or logic would have made any difference then. I still don't regret it . </p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">This break, I hope will rejuvenate my overwrought nerves, emotions and body and give me time to do some real soul searching about what it is that I really want from my life and how I plan to achieve it. I just felt that I could not go on any longer. I really wish I had not waited to reach such a state of absolute frustration. In the last one year and more, I have had all the impediments to a stress free life as one would see mentioned in various stress buster books.</p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">I had started a new life so to say, a new man (got married), ended a previous over six year relationship, a new city(totally different cultures), two new jobs -- the last handling various different responsibilities and products and much need for multi-tasking, added to that a new life style including the total adjustment to my sleeping, eating and every other habit. As if all <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">that</span> were not enough there was the added responsibility of turning my husbands bachelor pad into a home and keeping it too. I am still struggling with the new language and my maid and driver seem to have picked up more English than I have mastered Tamil in spite of my very diligent attempts at learning the same .</p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">I quit a good five days before my anniversary on the 20<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">th</span> of April so I could get some time to wrap up household responsibilities before we headed for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Munnar</span> which was the nearest getaway from Chennai and absolutely beautiful. We stayed at the High Range Club there and how I wished I could just settle down there somewhere among the mountains and never have to come back. I recall having mentioned to my husband a couple of times to just leave me there for some time by myself but the impracticality of the situation brought me back to Chennai and the heat once more. On the way to and from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Munnar</span> we also stopped over at Fort Cochin and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Alwaye</span> which were beautiful too. Overall it was a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">wonderful</span> trip. </p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">Two days after we returned, my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">in laws</span> came over for a fifteen day visit which was the first in our one year marriage. The mention of this situation to anyone newly married might conjure up very <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">stressful</span> thoughts and for me it is no different. Though they tried their best not to act like guests but pitched in to help me every way they could I was the one who was responsible to ensure that there was food on the table, all meals as well as clear up after my mother-in- laws insistence to cook( obviously it was some time since she had fed her son). Then there was the perpetual cynicism to my house-keeping and culinary skills. But overall I must pat myself on the back, for a totally calm and composed demeanor as I now had no job to get stressed out over so I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">remained</span> cool <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">in spite</span> of all incitement and thereby the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">visit</span> went off pretty peacefully except for the few instances of arguments between my mother in law and husband where he tried to ward off her cynicism. </p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">The break cannot obviously be a break without a trip back home to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Kolkata</span> and my mom where I can be royally pampered for a while and I do not need to worry about the day to day responsibilities of running a household. I am going to miss my husband but I keep telling myself that I have actually more than earned this "absolute break" at my mom's and of course I miss <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Kolkata</span> which if hubby had come along would be home even now <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">in spite</span> of being a year in Chennai. However the trip to K<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">olkata</span> is only a 10 day visit so I will be back to decide what to do next. </p>Shreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11629598748594883729noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32899179.post-1171468432129716562007-02-14T07:37:00.000-08:002007-05-18T11:08:09.124-07:00Love on V-Day<div align="justify">Today, the 14<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span> of February, being Valentines Day, there is no other topic that I would rather think or write of but the obvious: "love". This is one thing that I have been thinking of since morning. In all of my life of having looked for love, finding love, losing it and again finding it, I am not so sure I really know what it is.</div><p align="justify">It has some broad descriptions but to every one love is as different as it can get. Is love all about flowers, candles, chocolates and the usual? Is it the quiet, unspoken, understanding and empathy of the loved one? The constant proclamation of love verbally, the quiet and sustained love for a lifetime <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">in spite</span> of being jilted, first love, any one great love of your life, or what else?<br /></p><p align="justify">I have somehow been fortunate or maybe un<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">fortunate</span> to have experienced all of the above and yet am unable to summarise love and decide which of them I would wish for myself again.<br /></p><p align="justify">The day went by like most others. I woke up with a lot of anticipation, considering it was our first Valentine's Day together and for which I had cancelled an official trip to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Mumbai. I was expecting </span>some sign of romance from my husband to mark his acknowledgement of the day but there was none. No flowers, cards or gift.<br /></p><p align="justify">However, since I am the one with all the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">expectations,</span> I also kept up to my own expectations of myself by gift wrapping a bottle of the Polo Black perfume and keeping it just under his pillow just when I thought he was about to wake up, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">guarding</span> it to ensure it didn't fall off. My husband woke up, went to the washroom and found the gift which I was desperately trying to make him notice. On opening the wrapper he told me that my gift was due. I was disappointed but did not show it.<br /></p><p align="justify">Hubby went to office but I had taken the day off hoping we would do something so I spent the day anxiously waiting that he would have made reservations at a good restaurant or something and we would go out just after he returned. None of that happened either. When he got back he told me lets go somewhere after I have a drink or two like it was any other day and by the time we left home after his "one or two drinks" it was about 10.30.</p><p align="justify">I was all dressed up in a black and red <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Georgette</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Saree</span> so I suggested that we go to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Verandah</span> at the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Taj</span> Connemara where, I had <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">read </span>in the paper, there was a party of sorts. However, by the time we reached, the party was over and they were cleaning up. We had dinner in the dimly-lit coffee shop. While I sulked and tried to justify to hubby my reason for doing so, but obviously pride prevented me from mentioning how disappointed I was with the day.</p><p align="justify">A week later I did get my over due Valentine's gift in the form of a pretty pink skirt and a sleeveless gold top to match but the disappointment of not having romanced on Valentine's Day remains. I guess by next year, being the optimist that I am, I may forget today and once again wish a romantic day unfolds. Aren't these tiny hopes that life is all about?</p>Shreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11629598748594883729noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32899179.post-1169922285528230452007-01-27T09:33:00.000-08:002007-05-18T11:09:58.922-07:00Hitting rock bottom...<div align="justify">After having said what I had to in my previous post I now feel so much better and free from the sadness over <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Baba's</span> death which had once again gripped me since his death anniversary and my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">visit</span> to K<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">olkata</span>. Somehow the anger I felt at my husband too seems to have dissipated with the outpourings of my soul over the last post which was written while he was away.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"></div><p align="justify">By the time my husband returned I was calm and composed without a trace of the the tumultuous emotions I had been through shortly before his return except for the thickened and swollen eyelids from all the crying, which went unnoticed.</p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">Later in the evening we went out to the Leather Bar at the Park and with all the calm and poise that I could summon in the situation clinked my glass of Bailey's Irish creme with that of my husbands one time <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">stay over</span> girlfriend and one of his friends who I have known for a while now. </p><p align="justify">Incidentally this girlfriend, I discovered from one of the notes she had signed and left for him, to get her breakfast from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Murugan</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Idli</span> after he woke up, say about a year and a half back . </p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">Anyways as I started by saying that the anger I had been feeling was gone, so <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">in spite</span> of her efforts to make me see how familiar she was with him, I was at my coolest best.</p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">Writing your heart out is really therapeutic. I had heard about it but for the first time I realised how true it is. Overall I had a good evening which ended after dinner at the Park coffee shop by a futile attempt to shake our legs at the dance floor in Pasha the discotheque as the last number was playing even as we entered and the lights came on signalling the end of the evening.</p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">We came back home and after a good nights sleep went to work this morning with renewed vigour at life and much more love in my heart than I had felt in a while.</p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">I definitely needed to bounce back up as lately with everything going on in my life I had somehow touched rock bottom and the only way from there was up.</p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">Life is so much like diving .....you plunge deep, deep down and till you touch rock bottom you wonder how far its going to be and then in an instant you bounce back up all of a sudden . </p>Shreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11629598748594883729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32899179.post-1169809804979429562007-01-26T01:43:00.000-08:002007-05-18T08:25:14.811-07:00Home Is Where the Heart Is.......<div align="justify">Home is where the heart is .....but mine's at two places ........ Part here in Chennai with my Husband and part in Kolkata where my life had been till not so long back .The part in Chennai will go where my husband goes but the part in Kolkata will always remain. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">On the fourth of January my husband and my-self reached Kolkata to be with my family on the fifth which was my father's second death anniversary. This year in complete contrast to the last, we that is my mother, sister and my-self decided to go to the Kali temple at Dakhineswar to offer a puja for him, and so we could spend the day together in memory of him . </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Last year we had a pretty big ceremony and puja at home with a number of people invited to attend. This year we were accompanied by both our husbands and my fathers best friend more like his brother. In the temple we queued up for a long time at the end of which we were able to just hand over our basket of offerings for a second, to the priest and then as he returned it we had to leave, to make place for the next devotees. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">As we walked away from the shrine I felt a pang of immense guilt and sadness for the way we had just comemorated our huge loss, just two years back. This is not the way I had wanted to do it. I would have much preffered to have done a puja at home and invited people who knew, loved and respected my father, maybe for a meal after the puja so that I could keep him alive in their memories too maybe just a little bit as he was alive in mine . My husband who has never known my father was of the opinion that no one really cared so calling people over would be waste of their time and my brother-in-law who barely knew him as he died about six months after my sisters wedding too agreed to what my mother and sister proposed was the best way to remember Baba on his death day .</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">After the visist to the temple everyone proposed that we visit Chandannagar and other nearby places and our School which is less than an hours drive from Dakhineswar as we could spend the day together and also because we may not have the opportunity of doing so again as my sister and my-self now live in Bangalore and Chennai respectively.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Everyone was sad on the day and did what best they could do to quitely keep him in our memories but all of the things that we did made me angry somehow. I hate having Baba referred to as dead as to me he is very alive and I have never allowed his pictures at home to be garlanded as it reminds me that he is gone .I would have preferred to share the memory of my father with as many people who knew him in order to keep him alive and fresh in our memories. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">For the last six years I have come to Dakhineswar on the 21st of April to accompany one of my friends who had lost his father on the day as he came to offer puja early in the morning .</div><div align="justify">Through the drive we barely spoke as I knew those silent moments were for the memory of his father and I left him to spend those alone, though I was physically present, but always went along as I felt one needs a silent presence too in times of sorrow. In all those years inspite of my complete empathy with his situation I did not realise the extent of his pain till this year when I went to the very temple for the same reason though this time the pain I felt was mine. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">On the way back from Dakhineswar and Chandannagar my husband and others started planning what and where we would eat or see in kolkata for the next few days that we were there. All I could feel was more anger, sadness and hurt specially at my husband as what to me was the biggest loss of my life was just a duty for him which had been done and now we were free to enjoy the rest of our stay. Without a word of protest I joined in the discussion and plan of what we were to do the next day as I felt duty bound to see that my husband enjoyed his stay in kolkata as he fulfilled his by accompanying me to kolkata in the first place. </div><div align="justify">Ienjoyed my-self the next few days too but with a very heavy heart .I miss kolkata, I miss my Dad, I miss Ma, home and my friends and above all I miss my life there. Maybe if I do go back it will not be the same but those memeories of my life there will always be inviting me to return. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">I took my husband to some of the places that I loved and often hung out at. Walking up and down Park-Street in the chilled January evening with the Christmas and New year spirit still alive in the restaurants and shops and the aroma of the freshly baked cakes and pastries from Flury's in the nippy air, the live bands at Some Place Else in The Park and The Shisha bar on Camac Street and driving around Salt lake. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Often I wonder this thing called empathy is it really so lacking in the male gender or is it that they prefer it that way as "ignorance is bliss" and if they do not understand you or atleat if they pretend they don't they can safely have things their way and safely say "why didn't you tell me .......".</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">My memories of my father and kolkata are synonymous and that is the way it will always be so wherever I may go or be that will always be home for me. </div>Shreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11629598748594883729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32899179.post-1162143108274819102006-10-29T09:10:00.000-08:002006-12-13T05:30:32.326-08:00My TimeThere is one thing that I have learnt or rather discovered after years of working.You either enjoy what you do to the extent of giving up other things that you enjoy or else do not enjoy your work and find joy in other pursuits that interest you. I am saying this because I am currently enjoying what I am doing so when I leave work I am content just doing nothing. There was a time not so long back when I was not enjoying my work and I used to leave work or rather at work plan what I was going to do to relieve my-self of the monotony of my life. I used to either be planning an outing, it could be a movie, lunch or dinner, or pubbing. One thing that I enjoyed doing was thinking what to write in my blog that I started not so long back. Now things are different as I am contentedly tired at the end of the day so I am happy just coming home to the warmth and coziness of my home and the time spent with my husband.<br />As of now my husband is out of town or rather has gone to his home town so I thought of jotting a few lines so that there is a new post in my blog. For some time the fact that few or rather nearly no one read my posts made me sad but strangely today as I write this I feel good to be able to spend some time with my-self knowing that these lines will remain testimony to my thoughts without the intrusion of them by wondering what someone may think or not think.Shreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11629598748594883729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32899179.post-1159638375697168292006-09-30T10:07:00.000-07:002006-09-30T10:53:11.093-07:00Change....<div align="justify">I have been gone for quite sometime, nearly a month and so much has happened in the time that I have been away. For one, I changed my job and have taken up an assignment which is challenging and very time consuming. Though I love the challenge and the opportunity it will give me to enhance my skills and put the ones I have honed over a period of time to test, it gives me little time to day dream and write. However once I have settled down and all the stress related to the change are in control I would be able to get back to being here more often. </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">The word "change" to me is always associated with stress. The change may be positive or negative but it always induces a whole gamut of emotions from joy to despair in me. Though I am a person who takes alot of risks in life and thereby am always undergoing so many changes I hate "change". </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">My friends always tell me that my life is one long melodrama which they love to hear stories about it has alot of stress thrown in for equal measure. I hate monotony as it causes boredom but also hate change .Quite contradictory and confused one might think me to be but we humans however brave, adventourous we may be do not really adapt to change easily and I am no exception. </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">How many of us for all our adventourous streak would want to use a different tooth paste every morning or for that matter would want to even swap between our regular morning tea or coffee.</div><div align="justify">We crave the comfort and security of our habits. To me change is something that I plunge into hoping that if I hold my breath for a while, I will surface and can then swim across comfortably.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Those of us who swim or dive can relate to it and even though we may be adept at both, a new swimming pool would certainly give us a slight shiver up our spine though sometimes we do not even notice it. </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">However change is the only thing that is eternal and the more we practise adaptation the easier it gets. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div>Shreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11629598748594883729noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32899179.post-1156617909806964552006-08-26T11:10:00.000-07:002006-09-04T23:16:20.900-07:00Birthdays... Past and Present<div align="justify">I am really sentimental about birthdays whether it is mine or that of those close to me and belie ve that it is a very special day and needs to be treated like wise. Since my sister and myself were born and every year there after, Ma and Baba always celebrated our birthdays.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><p align="justify">Both of us went to boarding school where Birthdays are celebrated with ones friends, classmates and the teachers, one wanted to invite, amidst cake cutting, and the tea time party in the refectory(dining hall) where your friends were also allowed to decorate the place with baloons and streamers and off course it was Ma and Baba who either came before tea time with the cake and the goodies or else had them delivered if they had visited earlier in the day. </p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify">Post boarding school, birthdays were celebrated in the Delhi university campus as a hostler in restaurants or Nirula's in Kamlanagar (which were the most popular joints in those days in addition to the Wimpy's) when Pizza Hut and McDonald's and others of today had not yet set up shop in India. The ceremonial cake cutting with other grub was co-course there at the hostel dining hall .</p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify">After college I worked in my home town Kolkata as by then I had a choice of where I wanted to be as till then it was always Ma's decision as to which was the best place for my sister and me. Baba's sometimes quiet and at other times vocal dissent were met with, either silent or vocal assent of a convent, boarding school upbringing from Ma. I resented it, till lately I have begun to realise the exposure and the disciplined life style in addition to all the extra curricular activitiesyou are compelled to participate in as a boarder does enhance your personality and improves your skills which greatly help in your career. </p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify">Since the beginning of our (my sisters and mine ) working life we either had Birthday bashes with friends at home or outside but Ma and Baba never ever forgot to celebrate it in the traditional Bengali way of a puja and blessings with <em>diya, mala, dhaan, dubba and payesh </em>(garland, wheat grain, very fresh grass and rice pudding or kheer) which was served in a silver platter and Ma and Ba blessed us and fed us a spoonfool of the <em>payesh</em> and then we finished it our-selves. Till we started school as kids too this was the way Birthdays were celebrated and of-course there was always the Birthday dress.</p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify">In later years this was in addition to a cake-cutting or even wine, champagne and vodka and dinner celebrations we had with friends either at home or at pubs. Ma and Baba through all these years never forgot the Birtday gifts either, though for the last few years they gave us money to buy our-selves what we liked and this was given in cheque first thing in the morning of our Birthdays. This was Ma's idea of hoping that we may save it instead of actually blowing it up as we already spent what we ourselves earned anyways.</p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify">On the morning of my thirty-fifth birthday a couple of days back, I awoke with mixed feelings of joy (I love celebrations ), remorse (at turning a year older and finally reaching the much dreaded descent to life's end), hope (that the second and best part of life was just beggining) and expectation (of what the day ahead and the year to come held in store for me ).<br /><br />I decided to celebrate my birtday differently this year and since this has been in many ways the beggining of a new life for me I decided to start the day with a visit to the nearest Balaji temple(T. Nagar) dressed in a saree, very fondly courired to me by my new Ma, my mother-in-law. </p><p align="justify">This was followed by a very typical south Indian breakfast at the popular Ratna Cafe of idli, vada and filter coffee as if just to celebrate my new life in Chennai. Then procceeding to office where again I celebrated by cutting a cake which was organised by office and then ended the day in a popular Chennai pub, a Spanish Tavern called Zara which even on a Wednesday was packed to full with at least 3-4 tables celebrating birthdays and of course I did not forget to change into an outfit suiting the evening picked up by my husband.</p><p align="justify">I do not know what turn life will take and maybe there may come a time when I stop celebrating my birthday as I will probably have many more occasions to celebrate but the fond memory of the thirty five birthdays I have spent will be enough to last a lifetime. </p>Shreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11629598748594883729noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32899179.post-1156269890951442842006-08-22T10:59:00.000-07:002007-05-18T11:34:29.268-07:00You Gain Some, Lose Some<div align="justify">My earliest memories of childhood are that of life in the Delhi university campus as a four year old. My mother was a physical education lecturer in one of the premium campus colleges and we lived in a an apartment very close to the college. We, that is my mother, sister and me. Baba lived in Kolkata where he ran a printing press.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"></div><p align="justify">My parents had had an arranged marriage and were yet to work out a convenient post-marriage life. Baba could not move to Delhi as his business was just settling in and the prospects looked positive. In due time they decided that Ma would move to Kolkata but that did not happen till I was five. We went to Kolkata for the summer vacations and Baba came to Delhi for puja holidays. Perhaps this arrangement left an impact in my mind which led me to relocate to Chennai -- where my husband lives -- immediately after marraige.</p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">I quit my job and took up another with which though I am not very happy, but it allows me to have a job as well as be with my husband. I do not really blame my mother for not moving immediately. She did not have the means to, as Baba's business could well do with the extra income her work brought in in the initial years. Moreover both my parents did not have their parents or a support system like me and my husband have, one which we can fall back on in case of a financial emergency.</p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">Ma finally gave up a job she enjoyed and the place she was so comfortable in, when I turned five, when Baba's business could afford it, and took up a lecturer's job in Calcutta University, which I know she never really enjoyed though she never ever mentioned it or was compensated like her previous job but from where she retired at the age of sixty as principal of the college. I have seen numerous long distance marriages and the children in-between other than my own childhood and they are not very happy ones.</p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">Often in life one has to choose between two "happinessess" and that is what I did. I chose togetherness, love and a prospective happy married life to happiness in the job. Sometimes when I feel unhappy with my job I just remind my-self that you lose some to gain some and what I have gained is the love and company of my husband who happens to be cooking dinner as I write this as he wanted to cook for us, today being the eve of my birthday. </p>Shreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11629598748594883729noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32899179.post-1155829149019822982006-08-17T08:37:00.000-07:002006-08-17T09:14:23.173-07:00Getting Married<div align="justify">Marriage is that major event in my life for which my parents so devotedly and dutifully planned and prepared -- financially and mentally -- ever since I turned 21. All the planning I went through with them did not equip and prepare me for the complete change my life underwent when it finally happened -- at 34.</div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify">Before proceeding to tell the story of the years that preceded this rather late wedding I would like to narrate in short the situation which led to this surprise that I sprung on my friends, sister and Ma. Baba having passed away a year earlier with the acute sadness of a father who is unable to have his one and truest wish come true... He had been living a borrowed life since the last six years with one heart attack after another and then two strokes following that. But he hung on for really long and then gave up one morning to a fatal stoke. </div><div align="justify"><br /> </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">The happiness I felt at my marriage could not compare to the sadness and guilt I felt at the absence of Baba who, I felt, should have waited a year more as I completed the final rites of his first death anniversary -- just three months before my wedding. However the fact that Baba could witness my younger sister's wedding a year before he passed away gave me some consolation. </div><div align="justify"><br /> </div><div align="justify">My delayed marriage can in part be attributed to my stubbornness and optimism to get married only for love and nothing, but nothing else. This led to a few disastrous relationships one after the other. Sometimes the next relationship started to instantly override the pain of the previous break up, and at other times, after the old baggage had been done away with for long. But it was always with the renewed hope for finding love. </div><div align="justify"><br /> </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">My parents, all this time, looked out for and introduced me to numerous eligible bachelors. They also waited for me to announce the wedding to one of my current beaus. Neither of them happened, much to their despair. Optimism and faith do pay off even though they try your patience immensely. Mine did when I finally met my would-be husband. During my conversations with him before I met him, I realised that some of the things I had been looking for since as a girl were coming true. </div><div align="justify"><br /> </div><div align="justify">Just when you think that you cannot carry on any more and you are tired and ready to quit your search for happiness or whatever it is that will lead you to happiness, take just a step further and you will definitely find your rainbow or your answer and that is what happened to me. After my father passed away the relationship that I was in for the last five to six years began to feel like a burden as I felt there must be God's will in my not having been married or else Baba would not have quit trying to stay alive. </div><div align="justify"><br /> </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Added to this was the thought that all along one of the reasons for wanting to get married was to make Baba happy and now that reason was not there too. When one of my friends and Ma told me that Baba left to be able to find the right guy for me so I must not give up the thought of settling down or else Baba's soul would not rest in peace. </div><div align="justify"><br /> </div><div align="justify">So here I was again taking that final step when all I wanted to do was just duck my hide under cover and weep at how unfair life is. I did what I had never imagined I would ever do... that is allow one of my cousins register me on an Internet marriage site and can you believe it, that is where and how I finally met my husband and my search came full circle as I found what I was looking for in him . And believe me when I say that just because I married someone I met on a marriage site ours was far far away from an arranged marriage. </div><div align="justify"><br /> </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">We first exchanged a few mails and then spoke over the phone for six to seven hours a day for the next fifteen days after which I agreed to come from Kolkata to Chennai and even before we met we knew we would get married and two days after I came we were looking out for a registrar to get us married much to the astonishment of our families and one of his friends even called the whole thing "very bizarre". </div><div align="justify"><br /> </div><div align="justify">Sometimes you look for something all your life and then you find it suddenly in a short time. Its the search and all the mistakes that you have made though your search, that make you the person you are that help in sustaining your marriage. After all its being able to sustain a marriage that is the end and not just the act or event of getting married.</div><div align="justify"><br />Thereby the end justifies the means and makes the means worth the while.</div>Shreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11629598748594883729noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32899179.post-1155828991919372632006-08-17T08:28:00.000-07:002006-08-17T09:15:26.503-07:00The Beginning<div align="justify">This really is the beginning of not just my story and this blog but in every respect the beginning of a new life.... </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"></div><p align="justify">I got married this April and moved to Chennai where my husband lives, after half a lifetime of living in Kolkata where I was born, brought up and spent some of the best years of my life. The last six months have turned my life totally around with such amazing speed that I am as yet reeling from its impact and trying to catch my breath.</p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify">I am in a new city whose language and culture I am yet to understand, with a new job and of course "marital life" with a person whom I know since two months before we got married. I do not really have anything to complain about as I am married to a great guy who not only loves me but is also caring and cool.<br /></p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify">I have even managed to get a better than decent job right away but change is change and however good change is it is not easy to embrace it without wanting to rush back to the comfort of your old life. So though on the one hand I am happy, I wake up every now and then in the morning imagining that I am in the comfort of my old bed wishing I could just laze around and have Ma take care of everything -- right up to organising my lunchbox for work and the maid placing breakfast on the table which I often, hardly found the time to eat. But those days are now part of nostalgia, and the only way to relive them is to write about them.</p><p align="justify">It is through my husband that I got to know about blogs: he is an inveterate blogger and I read his posts regularly. Today, with his help, I have managed to create this blog. After school and college, I have been mostly out of writing, though I read when I manage the time, and it feels great to write again -- it helps you capture your thoughts which otherwise would just pass you by -- as life does -- and maybe sometimes be forgotten forever or at best never be thought of again.<br /></p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify">I am sure to be here often. This is just the beginning of my jottings.</p>Shreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11629598748594883729noreply@blogger.com1