Life is easy kya karein

Life can be fun. Fun can be created. Just saw two guys stopping a rickshaw walla as he spit on the road while driving. The driver of my vehicle informed me that at lots of junctions, BMC has employed people to catch people who are spitting and fine them. I could see the passengers of the auto rickshaw trying to negotiate with the BMC team. They didn't budge, thank God for that. One of them sat in the auto with the driver and asked him to pull to the kerb. Is this what is required to bring about a change in people? I know that all auto and taxi drivers have a basic minimum education that enables them to read signs, hoardings etc. Why cant their mums teach them about spitting? I am sure it is easier than teaching your child table manners. These small little changes in the system also makes me smile. We are slowly inching towards something good. Then, I read a leading political bi monthly magazine which the husband got from a trip. God help me, nothing could me more depressing. I kno...

I associate food with smell. If the house or a hotel smells good, chances are the food there will taste good. When I came to Mumbai and was staying in a Christian hostel, I remember the feeling of nausea at 10am everyday as they started cooking beef. For a pure vegetarian Gujarati girl, it was a culture shock. I had never had people eating non vegetarian on my table for the first fifteen years of my life. So to see pieces of meat in a watery gravy was not a pleasant sight for me. Hostel food was full of coconut in every vegetable and garlic in every dal.At home, we never ate garlic or onions on a daily basis. In Mumbai, my meals had so many new ingredients and then I got used to seeing and smelling that. Even people sucking the bone for the marrow was a sight I had never seen before. There was no religious sentiment involved. I was just so shocked and oh so unexposed. Stage two was when I joined a five star hotel in Mumbai. For me, the whole hotel was always stinking of food. For year...

When I sit to write there are thoughts. But then I have no Title to write. What is important is what I write.Or should I first make an interesting caption/ title and then weave a story around it. Every time I am also thinking about is it the truth or rather my version of it or is it something I have added some juice to make it interesting. Question comes to my mind that who am I writing for. Myself or my friends or is it there a larger audience somewhere. The desire for name, fame and appreciation is definitely there. Now the question is, Is this about my writing or is this about everything in my life? Am I looking for appreciation and acknowledgement for every single act of mine? Can I just be be happy with what I have done? I have gone into a new thing these days, which is about acknowledging all the people who help me in some way and I am aware of it. I also expect the same in return and that too big time.Now, the grudge is that if you are going to my designer or my jeweler, rather ...

Everyone has an understanding of good health and good food habits. I am not talking about going on the extremes of raw food or no wheat or only fruit diet. I just mean basic good food. Which educated person doesn't know that packaged food contains preservatives. Even if they packaging denies it, it is put under some other chemical name which the consumer is unaware of. Any food rots after a time and if it is in a packet vaccum packed or something, it cant survive without some added chemicals. Even curds which are good for health have a fifteen day shelf life. Try keeping your home made curd in the refrigerator for three days, it starts turning sour and gets spoilt within a week. I fail to understand parents who give packaged or outside food to their children all the time. I blame the Stay at home Moms more out here. The father is not there for atleast 12 hrs a day. The basic nutrition knowledge is low or the desire to cook fresh food is not there. In most upper middle class urban f...

I need space from my loved ones. When they are not around, I miss them. When I am around them, I wish I was miles away. I want to be spoken to only when I am in the mood. I want to listen and want them to share their day. I also have so many tasks to complete.If I sit and listen, all my housework will be pending. I wonder if work is as important as relationships. If I don't handle my responsibilities, will any of my relationships work? I am stressed about not spending quality time with my loved ones. When I want to spend time with them, they are busy.When there is a chance , everyone is so worked up. I don't like outings with a time limit. Why cant people just relax and be. Everyone has work the next day. Just because one is chilling today, their tomorrow need not be a crazy day. I see people inviting me to meet for a "Quick coffee" or an "early dinner". Even the terms are such a put off. That's like my friends or family are slotting me in their busy sc...

Master of the Game was a novel by Sidney Sheldon. I started reading Sidney Sheldons much before I started my dose of Mills n Boons. In school, the library teacher helped me select classics...abridged versions ofcourse. English was not the spoken language. By eighth std, with a great English tedacher, I had the urge to enjoy the language. In terms of marks I excelled in English but Hindi is the languauge I thought in. I prayed in Gujarati,in my heart. The verbal prayers were in Sanskrit with my Grandmother and in English in the school assembly. For years I never understood the meaning of all that I prayed. Our family was very serious about certain issues. God was one of them. No one was forced to pray or visit the temple. That came naturally to all of us. When we prayed, we prayed very seriously. Uncle was almost angry while praying. Mom and Gran wanted the servants to be at their beck n call while praying. So the servant ran to get the flowers, water milk, ghee, plates, sugar, hot milk...

The intention of this writing is not for you to feel sorry for me.I had guys asking if I can cook. The mothers asking If you are in a hostel, would you like to live with a family. Where do you shop? What do you do in your spare time? How often do you visit your relatives? Do you have English Western toilets at home? Can you stay without your job? There are meetings where i have visited the guys house and even water was rationed. One meeting , the guy had six pegs of vodka. I thought that's so cool . He can handle his drink. My father was scandalized. One guy was angry coz I didn't know about his institute INSEAD in France. Those days there was no google to look up these things. One guy took me to the mirror to check my height vis a vis his. My cousin was angry about it. I was absolutely fine. He was buying a commodity and better to check it out by all parameters. Each one said like the foreign companies do when one goes for interviews : Don't call us, we will call you. My D...

This saga of "boy seeing" continued for years. In the mean time, I studied , graduated, chose my vocation,went back home for a while, took up jobs, grew in my career and had fun.My parents really tried hard to get me married. They built contacts, met relatives, went to marriage bureaus, attended weddings and what not. In Hindi there is a saying Kitne kitne papad bele. My parents did all of that and more. I wanted to be married and I thought this is the only way to find a guy.But even for a moment I never ever appreciated what my parents were doing for my future. I wonder if we ever realise the effort that our parents put in for us. I don't miss a chance to tell my husband and children, how much I do for them. So coming back to the juicy side of "boy seeing" I kept on seeing Number One boy for the next ten years on arranged marriage proposals. My parents or relatives did not want to give up. Each one thought this was the match made in heaven and the astro charts ...

Somehow have been wanting to write about all the arranged marriage proposals I saw or rather about the meetings we had with boys. I started seeing guys at the ripe age of eighteen. Whatever that means. I remember an astrologer telling my Grandma that I will be married when I turned 18. So I grew up with that belief too. Got my first proposal at 16 and then the family thought that was a good sign. For sure, I would be married by eighteen. With six children in the same house, my folks wanted the eldest to get married soon, to set the ball rolling for the younger children. I was completely agreeable to this idea. All the women in Jharia Dhanbad got married that way. That was the future and I was fine with it. Like they say, the best laid plans can go awry, we too made a mistake by sending me to Mumbai to study and a hostel to live. I thought I was the same Jharia girl even in Mumbai except for the outward changes of a hair cut and Bambaiya clothes. But it was not so. Slowly and surely, I ...