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Showing posts with the label Autographical

My Middle Path

 The Middle Path It gives vision, gives knowledge, and leads to calm, to insight, to enlightenment and to Nirvana. And what is that Middle Path realized by the Tathagata? It is the Noble Eightfold path, and nothing else, namely: right understanding, right thought, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness and right concentration. In a world divided by extremes, I have chosen the middle path. After much reflection on the various arguments on various subjects, I have realized that the middle path is the sanest, safest and the one which can allow for progress towards a better world without annihilating the one we currently occupy. The mindset which says, ‘my way or the highway’ doesn’t leave much scope and quickly divides into ‘for’ or ‘against’. Two warring factions that shall never meet. In my youth, I too started out as an extremist, judging things, people, opportunities as good or bad, right or wrong through my own set of filters.

Cant help pondering...

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Well, actually,  priyanka , you were different.  You didn't want a perfect life, a typical life, or even a normal life. You wanted a one-of-a-kind. How we doing?    The Universe The above note suitably customized would have been received by thousands across the world today as it was by me thanks to our common subscription to a site called TUT. TUT sends out a note a day to subscribers written by Mike Dooley who claims to be speaking on behalf of the Universe no less. Part fun, part philosophical the notes are usually a welcome break in a work day. As often happens with such things many a time the note gives hope, cheers up or just brings a smile. Even though we well know that it comes from one person and the same note would be received by many it still seems to speak with us with a special intimacy. Today was one such day...the note read so true that it caught my breath. I reread to ensure I had read it right and it also brought back a brief conversat

From the Unbou to the Unbor

Hey Partner, I walked out of the house early morning today for my blessed office events with the thought that what a thing to do on the day we complete 11 years of marriage. And it brought back the memory of something we were discussing recently about how I am not very 'bou' like. I don't do the 'will ask husband' routine and nor do I demur to your wishes and God forbid commands!!! I think I make most of your friends uncomfortable cause they don't seem to know what to do with a woman who seems to have an opinion and a strong one at that. I am thinking that it can't be easy for you to be seen as this hen pecked man who let's his wife walk all over him. But then just when I was almost starting to feel bad about you I realised that neither are you very 'bor' like. You don't try to be the commanding officer, you don't dictate terms and you don't pretend that you know everything about the country, sports or finance. You are so

Walking into 40's...

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From very early in life I have always believed that I would die off at 40. The reason I had arrived at this unique conclusion was the fact that both my granddad and dad had popped off in their 40's and in my romantic notion of things I had just assumed that I would do so too. It didnt trouble me much cause at age 20, forty is a hoary old age and I was pretty sure that I would have lived life to the utmost by the time I turned forty so there really was not much to worry about. Things however started turning a bit unpleasant as I approached the mid thirties. With a young kid around popping off in another five years time didn't seem such a pleasant thing any more. Three more years rolled away and then the second kid also came along and now the thought that he wouldnt even remember me much if I were to go at forty really started to bother. At a lil after 39 I underwent a surgery which if not done in time could have resulted in something fatal and post my gaining consciousness

I am a Hindu: A Clarification

In a country being governed by the Parivar as the BJP and its allies are called it is obvious that the religion I was born into would be a matter of great importance. Not that it ever is anything but important, being the religion of the majority of people in India. However in the past year or so Hinduism has crept up in news and views far more frequently than before. One or the other leader of the so called parivar and even parliamentarians have been remarking on various aspects from how many childrena Hindu ought to have , to eating habits , to the patriotism quotient of Hindus versus any other faith etc. Incidentally parivar is how the ancient Hindus looked at the entire world enshrined in the phrase Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam i.e. “the world is one family” Nowhere did they say that every member of this gigantic family has to follow the same belief system.   All of this has made me feel amused, harassed, furious and most of all disgusted. These so called guardians of my religion a

A Double Century and moving Ahead

My last post was the 200th on the blog. A big milestone for me which I wanted to make meaningful in all sorts of ways but then Gaza was in the news and I couldn't hide my disappointment with Israel and had to pen down my angst and so the 200th post became a cry for decency, humanity and sanity to reign. So here I am writing my 201st post and thinking about all that's going on in my life. ADJUSTMENT For the past four years my mom had been living with us not because she wanted to but situations and circumstances had made her wrap up her own household and come and live with us. It took a lot of adjusting to for all concerned and then Aarini came along and Mom being with us became a blessing. with her Grandma being her full time Mom while I played the part only when it suited me. Last week Mom moved out to a flat close to ours to set up home again with my Masi. It means time for adjustment and  reorientation yet again. Aarini doesnt like this change one bit, things she has

The meaning of Six

Six years is a long time. Long enough for the polish to rub off. Long enough for the passion to dwindle. Long enough for the family (mom, dad, dog, baby) to take precedence over the partner. Long enough to also make you sometimes wonder, ‘what did I see in this person back then?’ Six years mean you have shared causes, holidays, books, taxes, burdens, friends, costs, relatives, dreams and blame as well. Six years mean you still have shared causes, holidays, books, taxes, burdens, friends, costs, relatives, dreams and blame as well to get through. Six years mean you have come a long enough way to be able to think of newly weds as ‘those newly weds’ Six years is also a long time to get so used to each others eccentricities that they don’t seem so anymore Six years mean …you have seven and eight and nine and ten to look forward to. At least I do.

What are dreams made of?

Dreams those wispy things much like our souls that run everything and yet you can’t put a finger on them. Touch them you can’t, forget them you can’t, hold them you can’t and yet they form and they also shatter. I know this sounds melodramatic but every time I have dared to dream, fate has had other plans. I can tell you I have worked really hard to ensure that my dreams are guarded against strong winds and the hot sun…that they have a cool and comfortable place to stay in, grow in and yet, yet each time they have got bruised and then broken. My last dream was one made of music, soft candle lights, cakes, coffee, red roses & tube roses and the nargis in winters. It was made of port wine, sea shells, mountain air, rhymes, films, books and long conversations that lasted through the night. That dream lies shattered now. I don’t have the luxury of sitting with the bits and crying so I move on. But as I walk the shards enter my feet and scratch my heart. This last dream

Life

December has been a busy month for me. Training session in Ahmedabad, business trip to Kolkata, work pressures and home in a bit of chaos thanks to the regular maid being on leave and mom in law not doing too well. In the midst of this came our 5th year anniversary and also the partner's birthday. Each trip, each occasion made me want to write a few words on the blog.....mark it for posterity so to speak. And yet it didn't happen. There was a time when the blog used to be my bestest friend, my confidante . Now I dont have the time to come back to it even when I want to. Things change, not always for the better but we have to accept that change and we have to move on. This is life. I had made it a practice to always at an year end jot down a list of things I would want to do in the coming year. This year even that inclination is not there. I am planning to take each day as it comes. I am planning to enjoy the small joys. I am planning to blog less, FB less, t

Wait Till You Are A Mom

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I told my Mom that she need not worry while I went out for a three day trip with college mates and she replied “wait till you are a mom” I objected to her objecting about my late night partying and she said “wait till you are a mom” On the basis of a good interview I decide to move to Bombay and tell her that she need not worry for me, she replied “wait till you are a mom” And then finally on 24 th Feb 2011 I became a Mom. The tiny little red bundle with big eyes and a crop of shockingly black curly hair was all mine. My home production as I fondly called her. I was half proud, half awed and half intrigued by this thing that came out of me and yet was a complete thing in its own right. My pact with my Mom had been that I would carry the baby for nine months and then go back to my job and career while she was responsible for the baby. She had agreed and we had planned the baby. I went back to work within two months of the baby being born. She was too youn

Importance of the mundane

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Old sayings abound of how the ordinary and the mundane are ignored for the more exotic until that day when suddenly they disappear from your life. And that’s when you stop, look around and then get into acute agony over the loss. Recently I have had two such incidents which brought this fact home to me. The first was sudden loss of hearing in my right ear soon after my flight took off from Bangalore. I was travelling on work and alone and having my hearing reduced by half and me trying to lip read and second guessing people feels funny now but then it was quite an ordeal. In Delhi I waited for a couple of days hoping the blockage would go off on its own. It didn’t and then a visit to an ENT specialist gave the scary news of fluid buildup inside my ear drums which if medicines didn’t help might need surgery also. Suddenly something which till now I had laughed off as a stupid irritant grew to worrying proportions. As the medicines continued for the next two weeks I suffered f

Pishi - my aatiyon

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The bangla word for a relative is aatiyon . What it really means is someone who is close to your aatma, your soul. Someone with whom you feel a sense of solidarity, wholeness. Pishi, my father in law's eldest sister was someone I heard about a lot through stories relayed by my in laws and husband long before I had the chance to meet her in person. I also tasted some of her awesome cooking from the portions she would thoughtfully bring across for her brother whenever she visited. My first introduction to her happened about three years ago, when finally my father in law chose to tell her about my existence. It was a moment which I had both dreaded and anticipated equally. Comparisons, remarks, judgement all of it would have been natural and to be expected. Yet the complete openness and ease with which Pishi met me allayed my misgivings and gave her a special place in my heart, for keeps. My subsequent visits to her place on various occasions only helped strengthen my image o

Letter to My Baba...oops Dad...as advised by advertisers

Dear Baba, Its Father’s Day this Sunday and all the advertisements are telling me to remember you, tell you that you are the greatest DAD, write you a letter to mention that you were, are and will always be my original Superman, etc. Yesterday the Archies show window in a mall had so many Best Dad gifts that for a moment I thought why would anyone need so many? And then the wicked thought came that perhaps with divorces so much on the rise, kids would need to buy for different dads – the best one, the better one and the fun one. Something like that. Oh by the way I hope you know that I have started the letter all wrong, I am supposed to call you DAD not Baba. Baba is old world, its unfashionable not like Dad – Dad’s smart and modern. Anyway I am too old to change my ways and since you haven’t been around for about twenty years now, I have no way of changing it and getting you to respond to ‘Dad’ so Baba it will be for me. I have been missing you a lot lately, it’s

Durga Pujo 2011

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Little girls are worshipped as Goddesses in Northern India, indeed in most parts of the country. Though one gets to see it most in the North (perhaps as compensation for the lousy sex ratio that their money ensures). Whatever it be, the fact remains that this year we had our little girl, Aarini accompanying us on our pandal visits. And it was a nice experience. What remained missing for the second year running is a glimpse of Janvi during pujas. Trust she had a good time there in Bangalore. I am hoping I can meet her again soon and the sisters can continue to love and greet each other with the same spontaneity as the first time all their life. A few glimpses of the pujos we visited: This pandal took the theme of the Ajanta Ellora caves and did up the whole place with eco-friendly material. Remarkable. Dad, Daughter and Durga Our neighbourhood pujo Mom and Antara (our house guest as Parry likes to introduce her) Though you can barely see whats happening on stage. I still thought its a w

I am afraid

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I was out with two junior colleagues at work to eat golgappas and generally have fun. Heard a child bawling, wondered who it was and then while getting back to the car. Saw a middle aged woman carrying a child of 5-6 years. The child was crying er heart out. I stepped infront of them and tried to talk to her, hoping the interruption would stop her from crying further. The woman explained that the child was her grand daughter whose mother (the woman's daughter) had died and therefore the woman was looking after the child. She seemed to be of limited means and said that she couldnt afford to buy the toy the child was asking for and had instead got her a balloon, some biscuits and toffee as compensation. I was in half a mind to ask her where the toy shop was, so that I could buy the toy for the child before realizing that I would set a bad precedent. Instead I kept talking to the child and got her to forget her toy for a while atleast. She got friendly enough to smile for the camera a

A Happy Afternoon @ DPS NOIDA

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One of my most awaited afternoons of the year came last Sunday. The annual alumni meet of DPS NOIDA which is held on the third Sunday of every December. This was the third consecutive year that I visited the school for this get together and am happy to report that I came back as thrilled as ever. :) I have studied in a convent school most of my life and consequently grew up with a robust disregard for public schools. DPS with its snob kids whose wild stories we had all heard, topped the list. I suspect now that most of the stories were about DPS Mathura Road and RK Puram however in our minds eye all DPSs and public schools got painted with the same brush. So when three years ago I went to this very same Alumni meet with the partner I had not quite known what to expect. I had of course heard stories of his classmates, the friends, crushes and teachers and a small bit of me was curious to see what those people were like in real life. To my surprise I had found the whole afternoon a love

My Latest Kick

Life right now is all about kicks. Kicks from management for meeting targets, kicks from family for being totally lazy, mental kicks to myself for forgetting yet another important chore or not feeling up to it and most importantly internal kicks which tell me that someone is alive and kicking and just waiting to make a grand entry the moment its time. These kicks apart from making me sit up suddenly also ensure that from time to time I am reminded of the change that is me. You don’t understand do you? Well let me try and explain then. You see I have been variously described as being wild, lazy, dynamic, potential trouble maker, potential peace maker, good friend, spendthrift and more. What I didn’t know I was going to become is a compulsive moaner, groaner, superstitious, suspicious, crying at the drop of a hat, wallowing in self pity sort of person. I can now manage to scare myself with or about anything and everything. Yesterday a television ad for Johnsons baby wipes