I am a great one for concepts, ideas and theories. They tickle my mind, stretch my imagination, get me excited… Most times they are theories I read about in some book. At other times I come across them when I am doing some research for a client on the ‘Net. Then of course, like-minded friends tell me about something wow and I google the subject to learn more.
There’s the ‘Parallel Lifetimes’ theory that I read in Dean Koontz’ “From the corner of my eye” – truly mind blowing stuff which got me to check out quantum physics. Then there’s the ‘Butterfly Effect’ that made me rush to the Video Library and pick up a movie of the same name. Richard Bach’s ‘One’ about how all of us are actually ‘one’ is fascinating too.
One of the earliest theories that caught my imagination was something I read in “The Magnificent Obsession”. This was before Satellite TV, before the Internet, before Google. Yes, we did live (and quite happily, I may add) in those ancient days! Well, the book in question was a prescribed text when I was doing my graduation in English Literature in Chennai. Written by Lloyd C Douglas and first published in 1929, the book was not available anywhere. Some of my more studious classmates and I searched high and low and finally found a small library that had just one copy. The Library was being run by a book-loving family in Besant Nagar and we borrowed the book to read it in turns. I have forgotten the storyline, the characters, the ending. But what I do remember is one thought “If you knock on the door long enough, it will open”. Simple but it got me thinking. It meant if you want something badly enough you are sure to get it. A related concept would be that if you want something badly enough, the whole universe conspires to give it to you. I have put this theory to the test many times and it has rarely failed me. My marriage to Sunil – against all odds – is probably a good example. There were times when Sunil and I being together seemed well nigh impossible. Yet I had these three words written and framed, a talisman I kept close at all times: “Someday. Somewhere. Somehow”.
I had almost forgotten my ‘Magnificent Obsession Theory’, when Ranjana recently mentioned it in a mail to Anu. Thinking about it I once again reminded of how we were blessed by so many things that we so badly wanted. This does not mean that God has no role in it. God does. He probably wants to know how badly you want something. And if you don’t get something, despite wanting it badly enough… maybe what you want is not really good for you. Think it over!
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Saturday, June 16, 2007
ALMOST AN ADULT
Today, Anu turned 17. To me it seems like yesterday when Sunil took me in his Bajaj Super scooter to Dr Parvati Javli’s Queen Hospital. My water bag had broken and I needed to go in for a Cesarean, though I didn’t know it as I rode pillion on the scooter. At 8:40 p.m. as the signature tune of the Doordarshan news (Satellite TV was still not so pervasive then), blared, Anu made her debut in the world. And as every parent knows, our lives were changed forever.
I like to believe that God knew that I was already overworked and stressed, so he gave me a trouble-free daughter! There I was managing a home and a job, learning to cook (sometimes with disastrous results), trying to be a good wife (and not succeeding always)… and Anu somehow seemed to understand it all. She rarely cried, was an obedient child and never demanded what she felt we could not give her. Ranjana always reminds me about the time we went to Big Kids Kemp. Money was in short supply and before we entered the store, I explained to Anu that stuff here was very expensive and we couldn’t afford it. Any child would have gone crazy in the store. But Anu would pick up things, look at the price tag and quietly place it back. I guess that’s one of the reasons I like to overindulge her now.
I remember her first day in Kinderfun – the playschool she attended for two years (1992-1994). Dressed in a lovely red dotted dress, she walked in happily. I had prepared her well and every day when I asked her what she did in the playschool, she would reply “Mazaa Kiye!”
I remember carting her around everywhere, office, client meetings, freelance jobs…all I needed to do was carry lots of paper and a pen and she would be busy scribbling away without disturbing me. In fact Anu was with me on my first day at O&M Direct! She knew almost all my colleagues and I think assimilated a lot of the advertising culture. She still likes the “advertising crowd”. She had even drawn up a list of reasons why children whose parents are in advertising are better off. One reason was they grow up to be “very independent”.
My friends bemoan the fact that she never had a “childhood”. She was such a responsible child right from the beginning. She had her own house key ages ago, would let herself in, feed herself, study and of course watch TV! With both Sunil and me working crazy hours Anu learnt to be independent very early on. Many, many times when both of us were working late and came home, we would see her sitting in front of the TV with a torch, a candle and a matchbox – well prepared in case electricity failed!
Her independent streak was evident in the first standard itself. It was the very first day at school and Sunil and I were late in picking her up. Anu had started walking home and had managed to cover quite a long distance… from St Francis Xavier in Coles Park to Nandidurg Road!
I see a lot of myself in her, though she is very much her own person. She’s a bit of a rebel (without a cause, I like to say). Like me, she loves to take up for the underdog. But I believe she needs to choose her battles more wisely. She sometimes fights for people who don’t need to be defended. She is compassionate. She is truthful. She is extremely honest. She has never cheated in her exams. She never hides stuff (or at least I hope so!!!) She has strong values and very strong opinions.
I am proud of the person she has become though there are a couple of things I would like to change about her, starting with her laziness. (Yes, yes, I know where she gets that from!!) I’d like her to be a little more adaptable to situations in life because not all days are the same. I’d like her to value people more and things less. I’d like her to be more focused. I’d like her to have more drive and ambition. I know she can achieve whatever she wants to… only if she applies her mind to it. I have seen it happen once - when she was transferred to another section in the 7th or 8th, she was miserable. All her friends were in one section and there she was in the middle of a gang she had fought with. She pleaded with me to go speak to the Principal. I did but to no avail. However, Anu refused to give up. She went and spoke to her teachers and got herself shifted back to her old section!
There are many, many friends who have helped bring Anu up. I owe a great deal to all of them. The friends who took turns to be with me at the hospital when she was born. Amjad Chachu and Zarina Bhabi who took care of her when she was in the Play School. Shiva who was always just a call away – who would pick her up from school when I got late. As would David. Sujatha who was – and continues to be – her surrogate mother. Ranjana and Kamala who are her godmothers and have always wished her well. The teachers, especially Miss Bernie, Miss Monica and Miss Shifa who recognized her potential and helped her grow, her friends who love and care for her…. So many, many people that Anu and we are blessed to have in our life.
Happy Birthday Anu!
I like to believe that God knew that I was already overworked and stressed, so he gave me a trouble-free daughter! There I was managing a home and a job, learning to cook (sometimes with disastrous results), trying to be a good wife (and not succeeding always)… and Anu somehow seemed to understand it all. She rarely cried, was an obedient child and never demanded what she felt we could not give her. Ranjana always reminds me about the time we went to Big Kids Kemp. Money was in short supply and before we entered the store, I explained to Anu that stuff here was very expensive and we couldn’t afford it. Any child would have gone crazy in the store. But Anu would pick up things, look at the price tag and quietly place it back. I guess that’s one of the reasons I like to overindulge her now.
I remember her first day in Kinderfun – the playschool she attended for two years (1992-1994). Dressed in a lovely red dotted dress, she walked in happily. I had prepared her well and every day when I asked her what she did in the playschool, she would reply “Mazaa Kiye!”
I remember carting her around everywhere, office, client meetings, freelance jobs…all I needed to do was carry lots of paper and a pen and she would be busy scribbling away without disturbing me. In fact Anu was with me on my first day at O&M Direct! She knew almost all my colleagues and I think assimilated a lot of the advertising culture. She still likes the “advertising crowd”. She had even drawn up a list of reasons why children whose parents are in advertising are better off. One reason was they grow up to be “very independent”.
My friends bemoan the fact that she never had a “childhood”. She was such a responsible child right from the beginning. She had her own house key ages ago, would let herself in, feed herself, study and of course watch TV! With both Sunil and me working crazy hours Anu learnt to be independent very early on. Many, many times when both of us were working late and came home, we would see her sitting in front of the TV with a torch, a candle and a matchbox – well prepared in case electricity failed!
Her independent streak was evident in the first standard itself. It was the very first day at school and Sunil and I were late in picking her up. Anu had started walking home and had managed to cover quite a long distance… from St Francis Xavier in Coles Park to Nandidurg Road!
I see a lot of myself in her, though she is very much her own person. She’s a bit of a rebel (without a cause, I like to say). Like me, she loves to take up for the underdog. But I believe she needs to choose her battles more wisely. She sometimes fights for people who don’t need to be defended. She is compassionate. She is truthful. She is extremely honest. She has never cheated in her exams. She never hides stuff (or at least I hope so!!!) She has strong values and very strong opinions.
I am proud of the person she has become though there are a couple of things I would like to change about her, starting with her laziness. (Yes, yes, I know where she gets that from!!) I’d like her to be a little more adaptable to situations in life because not all days are the same. I’d like her to value people more and things less. I’d like her to be more focused. I’d like her to have more drive and ambition. I know she can achieve whatever she wants to… only if she applies her mind to it. I have seen it happen once - when she was transferred to another section in the 7th or 8th, she was miserable. All her friends were in one section and there she was in the middle of a gang she had fought with. She pleaded with me to go speak to the Principal. I did but to no avail. However, Anu refused to give up. She went and spoke to her teachers and got herself shifted back to her old section!
There are many, many friends who have helped bring Anu up. I owe a great deal to all of them. The friends who took turns to be with me at the hospital when she was born. Amjad Chachu and Zarina Bhabi who took care of her when she was in the Play School. Shiva who was always just a call away – who would pick her up from school when I got late. As would David. Sujatha who was – and continues to be – her surrogate mother. Ranjana and Kamala who are her godmothers and have always wished her well. The teachers, especially Miss Bernie, Miss Monica and Miss Shifa who recognized her potential and helped her grow, her friends who love and care for her…. So many, many people that Anu and we are blessed to have in our life.
Happy Birthday Anu!
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
MY BEST FRIEND
Last night I had a marathon conversation with my ‘bestest’ friend – almost 2 hours I think. It was as if she reached across thousands of miles and gave me a warm hug. I went to bed with a smile on my lips and a prayer of gratitude in my heart – for having her in my life. I woke up feeling rejuvenated – it was even better than a pampering session at the beauty parlour!
I have known Ranjana almost all my life. We were classmates – studied together till the tenth in a lovely old school in sleepy Bellary. But we really got close only in the 9th. Before that we had some silly fight and were not on talking terms for a long time. But in the idiotic fashion of school girls we would make blank calls to each other! In the 9th when we were both Vice Captains of our respective Houses, we decided to bury the hatchet and became good friends. It’s a friendship that I treasure to this day. There was never a dull moment in school with Ranjana around. She was a great mimic and had names for almost all the teachers. I remember when we had to a page of writing for each Hindi class. The first few lines would be faithfully copied from the Hindi Text Book, then after that the lines morphed into the lyrics of popular Hindi songs!!! And Miss Shamu (Shyamala) never noticed! There are so many fun and mischevious memories of Ranjana in school.
Despite going to different Colleges and choosing different streams we kept in touch. I remember the eagerness with which I waited for Ranjana’s letters while I was studying in Madras. I even penned a poem on it… Holidays meant spending long, lazy days in each other’s houses. I remember the mutton curry her mom used to make and Ranjana loved the kichdi-kheema made at home. Sometimes there would be months when we wouldn’t have spoken to each other, but could just pick up the threads of conversation as if we were in touch all the time… I guess that’s because we are always so close mentally and emotionally.
We shared the same dreams, the same ideas, the same beliefs and the same values. And many, many times the situations in our life seemed to overlap. My situation mirroring what was going on in her life or vice versa.
Like me she wanted to do Journalism but Life had other plans for her. She went on to do her MBA from Dharwar University. We embarked on our careers more or less at the same time. And I have watched with great pride as she has grown from success to success. She is the example I hold up for my daughter and many other youngsters. She is a true role model – having achieved so much, and all on her own steam.
Ranjana is my daughter’s godmother. My alter-ego. And my soul mate. She is one of the very few who is privy to my darkest secrets, my innermost feelings, my every dream. I am grateful that God brought her into my life. And I pray that our friendship will grow richer with each passing year. Amen!
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
REMEMBERING ABBA
During the last few days, my wonderful daughter Anu has told me, more than once, that her friends think I am “super-cool”. Because I tease her about her crushes. Come back with some smart one-liners. Am internet savvy and actually have a blog!
Thinking about it, I realized my dad was pretty cool too, though we never thought so at that time.
I remember when I was going through this Rajesh Khanna craze. I was in the tenth and the movie “Mehboob Ki Mehendi” was playing in our theatre – Radhika. It was a Saturday and Abba (that’s what we called our dad), told me to bunk school and come see the movie since it was the last day!
I remember the time when I was trying to learn driving. I think I was in PUC I year and we were coming back from College and I got the driver to teach me. Abba was behind us and witnessed my attempts at driving. When we reached home, he told me: “If you have to do something, do it properly”. He got us our Learners License and ensured that all his three daughters learnt to drive. “He is giving his daughters too much freedom” grumbled our more conservative relatives.
I remember when our Logic lecturer, who hated “convent girls” humiliated us in every class. “No need to attend any of his classes” was Abba’s decree. “And you can tell your principal I said so”. For the next two years, as the hated (and hateful) Logic Lecturer would walk into the class from the front door, we would walk out of the back door. And he couldn’t do a thing about it, because we had informed the principal that our father did not want us to attend Logic classes! He must have been angrier to see our marks in Logic – easily above 90%!
I remember the times – so many times – when we wanted to bunk a class and go for a movie. All we had to do was call him and he would send the car to college to pick us up!
I remember the time he and a friend came all the way on their scooters to pick us up from home and take us back to the theatre to see the movie “Ab Aayegaa Mazaa”.(Or was it Kissa Kursi Ka?) To many Muslims it may seem blasphemous. But I remember during Ramzan, when we actually broke our fast in the theatre!
When we were kids, we had these vendors who would go around selling snacks in hand-pulled carts. One day, there I was buying some stuff when I saw a couple of poor urchins looking longingly at the snacks. I called them over and gave them some stuff. Soon, I was surrounded by so many urchins that I didn’t know what to do. Abba was watching from a distance and came to my rescue, paying for the entire crowd!
There was never any pressure on us to study. But both Abba and Mummy loved to read and surrounded us with such wonderful books and magazines, that all of us became voracious readers. We had the most wonderful collection of Classics brought out by Readers Digest and he let me have some of them.
I remember the speeches Abba would write – they were always short and witty. Mummy wrote longer, more serious speeches. My sister Nasira got dad’s speeches and I got the speeches written by my mum.
I remember his pride in my writing skills. He would tell his friends about my amateurish attempts at writing poetry and actually “commissioned” me to write a poem on his friend Mr Ghani. Years later, I detected that same note of pride in his voice when he told a friend of his: “She has her own flat in Bangalore”.
Of course, it was not always fun and games. There were spankings and yellings too (my brother and I got the worst of it – being the younger ones). I got a royal thrashing once for calling the maid a pig. The lesson was clear: show respect to everyone. It’s a lesson I think I have passed on to my daughter too (without the thrashing!)
My mother never bothered about money. I think she is the least materialistic person I know of. Abba was a little better but I think money per se did not mean a great deal to him. He was careful about spending money but got royally cheated by a whole lot of people. When it came to giving people their due, Abba was very, very clear. By ensuring that his sister’s kids got their share of the ancestral property, by giving them their due without fuss, he set a shining example for his children: “relationships are more important than money”. When I see friends and acquaintances fighting over property, I appreciate what a valuable lesson he taught us.
We did go though our bad patches. He had his faults and there were times I hated him. There were times when I felt he didn’t understand. Or didn’t care enough. But I know I was wrong. As a parent myself now, I know it must not have been easy bringing up three pretty liberal and ‘thinking’ daughters in a conservative place like Bellary.
I was always very protective about my mom and somehow felt I was closer to her than to my dad. But during the last years of his life, it was Abba who made the effort to reach out to me, to build bridges between me and my siblings. It was Abba who would bring me my old diaries and books. Who would make it a point to come and show me his new car and give me a ride in it. Who would call up and remind me that I had forgotten his and mum’s anniversary and was everything okay?
When he was hurt by what someone had said, he would share it with me and felt comfortable enough to cry in front of me. At such times, I never knew how to handle it. You think your parents are tough and you are the ones who will be doing all the crying in front of them…
In another 50 days, it will be a year since Abba passed away. He is in my thought constantly. I dream of him ever so often and I miss him so very much. I sometimes wish I had been nicer, kinder, more loving, more forgiving, more non-judgmental… I know now that consciously or unconsciously he shaped me into the person I am today. And if my daughter finds me cool today, it’s probably because I had a cool dad!
Thinking about it, I realized my dad was pretty cool too, though we never thought so at that time.
I remember when I was going through this Rajesh Khanna craze. I was in the tenth and the movie “Mehboob Ki Mehendi” was playing in our theatre – Radhika. It was a Saturday and Abba (that’s what we called our dad), told me to bunk school and come see the movie since it was the last day!
I remember the time when I was trying to learn driving. I think I was in PUC I year and we were coming back from College and I got the driver to teach me. Abba was behind us and witnessed my attempts at driving. When we reached home, he told me: “If you have to do something, do it properly”. He got us our Learners License and ensured that all his three daughters learnt to drive. “He is giving his daughters too much freedom” grumbled our more conservative relatives.
I remember when our Logic lecturer, who hated “convent girls” humiliated us in every class. “No need to attend any of his classes” was Abba’s decree. “And you can tell your principal I said so”. For the next two years, as the hated (and hateful) Logic Lecturer would walk into the class from the front door, we would walk out of the back door. And he couldn’t do a thing about it, because we had informed the principal that our father did not want us to attend Logic classes! He must have been angrier to see our marks in Logic – easily above 90%!
I remember the times – so many times – when we wanted to bunk a class and go for a movie. All we had to do was call him and he would send the car to college to pick us up!
I remember the time he and a friend came all the way on their scooters to pick us up from home and take us back to the theatre to see the movie “Ab Aayegaa Mazaa”.(Or was it Kissa Kursi Ka?) To many Muslims it may seem blasphemous. But I remember during Ramzan, when we actually broke our fast in the theatre!
When we were kids, we had these vendors who would go around selling snacks in hand-pulled carts. One day, there I was buying some stuff when I saw a couple of poor urchins looking longingly at the snacks. I called them over and gave them some stuff. Soon, I was surrounded by so many urchins that I didn’t know what to do. Abba was watching from a distance and came to my rescue, paying for the entire crowd!
There was never any pressure on us to study. But both Abba and Mummy loved to read and surrounded us with such wonderful books and magazines, that all of us became voracious readers. We had the most wonderful collection of Classics brought out by Readers Digest and he let me have some of them.
I remember the speeches Abba would write – they were always short and witty. Mummy wrote longer, more serious speeches. My sister Nasira got dad’s speeches and I got the speeches written by my mum.
I remember his pride in my writing skills. He would tell his friends about my amateurish attempts at writing poetry and actually “commissioned” me to write a poem on his friend Mr Ghani. Years later, I detected that same note of pride in his voice when he told a friend of his: “She has her own flat in Bangalore”.
Of course, it was not always fun and games. There were spankings and yellings too (my brother and I got the worst of it – being the younger ones). I got a royal thrashing once for calling the maid a pig. The lesson was clear: show respect to everyone. It’s a lesson I think I have passed on to my daughter too (without the thrashing!)
My mother never bothered about money. I think she is the least materialistic person I know of. Abba was a little better but I think money per se did not mean a great deal to him. He was careful about spending money but got royally cheated by a whole lot of people. When it came to giving people their due, Abba was very, very clear. By ensuring that his sister’s kids got their share of the ancestral property, by giving them their due without fuss, he set a shining example for his children: “relationships are more important than money”. When I see friends and acquaintances fighting over property, I appreciate what a valuable lesson he taught us.
We did go though our bad patches. He had his faults and there were times I hated him. There were times when I felt he didn’t understand. Or didn’t care enough. But I know I was wrong. As a parent myself now, I know it must not have been easy bringing up three pretty liberal and ‘thinking’ daughters in a conservative place like Bellary.
I was always very protective about my mom and somehow felt I was closer to her than to my dad. But during the last years of his life, it was Abba who made the effort to reach out to me, to build bridges between me and my siblings. It was Abba who would bring me my old diaries and books. Who would make it a point to come and show me his new car and give me a ride in it. Who would call up and remind me that I had forgotten his and mum’s anniversary and was everything okay?
When he was hurt by what someone had said, he would share it with me and felt comfortable enough to cry in front of me. At such times, I never knew how to handle it. You think your parents are tough and you are the ones who will be doing all the crying in front of them…
In another 50 days, it will be a year since Abba passed away. He is in my thought constantly. I dream of him ever so often and I miss him so very much. I sometimes wish I had been nicer, kinder, more loving, more forgiving, more non-judgmental… I know now that consciously or unconsciously he shaped me into the person I am today. And if my daughter finds me cool today, it’s probably because I had a cool dad!
Saturday, February 10, 2007
RUMAN
A child of tomorrow
Clinging to yesterday
Trapped between the old and new
So much like me
Yet so different!
A spirit bold and free
Giving so much
Yet unable to fill
The emptiness deep within
So strong
Yet so weak
A song incomplete
Dead to the world
Yet so alive
In the universe of my mind
My only consolation
That we will meet
Once again in the Eternal Life!
(Ruman was much much more than my niece. She was my daughter, my friend, my confidant. As I have mentioned in the poem above, she was so much like me, but she was so different too. And I loved her so very, very much. She passed away on June 25, 2000. It was one of the worst days of my life and it took me years to get over the grief. For months, I would feel tears just filling my eyes at the thought of her. I still miss her terribly and I pray for her - every single day. I wish she were still around... but wherever she is, I know she is watching over me and Anu, whom she really loved. May Allah rest her soul in peace)
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
FEET OF CLAY
My idol sat on a golden throne
Encrusted with gems and precious stones
Dressed it was, in a golden light
From head to foot it was pure white
From day to day, it used to sit
On the golden throne; I worshipped it
With gentle hands I'd clean the throne
And shine the gems and precious stones
The idol began to shake one day
I found it had feet of clay
No longer did I see a golden light
Smears of black marred the pure white
The gems and all the precious stones
No longer shone on the golden throne
Quickly I covered it with silken robes
Hid the feet from eyes that probe
But though the feet I could not see
The idol lost its charm for me
Encrusted with gems and precious stones
Dressed it was, in a golden light
From head to foot it was pure white
From day to day, it used to sit
On the golden throne; I worshipped it
With gentle hands I'd clean the throne
And shine the gems and precious stones
The idol began to shake one day
I found it had feet of clay
No longer did I see a golden light
Smears of black marred the pure white
The gems and all the precious stones
No longer shone on the golden throne
Quickly I covered it with silken robes
Hid the feet from eyes that probe
But though the feet I could not see
The idol lost its charm for me
PARZANIA
Saw Parzania on Sunday. (Feb 4, 2007). What can I say about the movie? Powerful. Intense. Heart-wrenching. Truly, truly touching. Inspired by a true story, Parzania gives a true picture of the Gujarat riots and also raises some pertinent questions that many in the media never asked. Like, if the Gujarat riots were a spontaneous reaction to Godhra, how were tens of thousands of armed people mobilized? How did the attackers know exactly which homes/business establishments belonged to Muslims? Why were saffron flags distributed for Hindu businesses before the riots? The movie also reflected several findings of the NHRC Reports.
When the Intermission sign came on the screen, there was pindrop silence in the theatre. Nobody seemed to entertain the thought of snacks and soft drinks... it seemed blasphemous and trivial to think of stuff like that after the disturbing scenes that we just saw. The movie seemed to touch every heart. In fact, even after the movie ended, I saw a girl in the back row sobbing uncontrollably. It's sad that the film will never be released in Gujarat. It probably should. It should be released and seen in all those town/cities where communal riots claim thousands of lives. When will we learn? When will we stop slaughtering and butchering each other in the name of religion? When will we stop fighting with each other simply because we call our gods by different names?
The casting of Parzania was superb. And so was the acting especially of Naseeruddin Shah and Sarika, who looks as beautiful as ever. Must watch movie. Disturbinng but as one guy was telling his friend as we walked out of the theatre: "This is reality, man!"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
