Friday, July 27, 2012

O (Wo) Maniya !!

The other day H and I were discussing about how a man woman relationship evolves from lovers to spouses to parents. Now this kind of conversation is often triggered whenever we visit my home or his. You know, seeing our respective set of parents married for over 30 years now, and still bickering over the same issues as 30 years ago makes me see red. The last thing I have on my mind is to spend the next 25 years of my life bickering and fighting and tearing my/his hair out for stupid things.

A few days back we had a small fight about something inconsequential and I jokingly remarked that if we were to ever have a son, I would scold and even beat him (if required) so that he should never turn out to be like  H  (the wicked wife that I am!). So H got all worked up about this and said that whatever fights/issues we have each other should always remain between the both of us and that we should never involve the kids. Talk about future planning! :-D:-D

And so that got me thinking about how men are such a strange species and that it is nearly impossible for women to live with them peacefully (If any of the men reading this feel the same way about women, I agree with you completely :-P). Men like their wives to NEVER behave like their mothers. Even though they want us to be fussy about them and pay attention to them and massage the Man ego every now and then, they really hate it when we say something like, “Don’t do this. It’s bad for your health!” Because while you are expecting your lover’s eyes looking at you in an appeasing way for being so thoughtful about your health and all that, all you get is a set of rolling eyes. And if this were to repeat a couple of times in a week, you are sure to hear the quintessential words from the “horse’s mouth” (pun intended!) “Stop acting like my mom!” 

Now when did the tables turn, you would never know? The last time you remember you did this, he was sufficiently happy and even told you that you reminded him of his mom. Maybe you should go see a doctor for a suspected case of STML (Short Term Memory Loss). And so, I did the same and went about happily following the doctor’s advice – shout at him like a wife, but don’t (read NEVER) care like his mother. No more picking on him, after all he is a grown up man and can take care of himself. That is, until  H  happened to fall ill. I took care of him and cooked for him, gave his meds on time and blah blah. But he was acting cranky and impatient, to the extent of being PMS-ey. Now this was more than I could take. After all, I had married a man capable of living on his own and having his own family and so on and so forth and I didn’t really expect him to throw tantrums like a 5 year old. The wife in me was irritated. But the mother in me saw through his actions. His actions were not really to harass me or irk me, but he was really having a bad time coping up with the illness.

I was in a dilemma. Should I switch roles? I couldn’t be sure if the tables would turn yet again. So I decided to talk to H about it. I told him that I couldn’t take his nagging another minute and that he should behave like a grown up man. Which 27 year old have you heard of, who lies on the bed and stomps his foot because he was denied a chocolate after the medicine? He said what I had guessed, that he was cranky because of the meds and that he really hated the house-arrest part, the restless kid that he is. But then, I told him that he shouldn ’t expect me to have any sympathy, or that if he did, he shouldn't crib about it later. He laughed his guts out. Did it sound funny to you? Atleast I had berated myself in my mind a thousand times for acting so cold. After all we girls have always been raised with notions of pati parmeshwar and other shit!:-\

And with that laugh, I realized that we too had evolved and transitioned from lovers to spouses. Here I was wondering what role to take up, but we both think I am best when I am the wife because I can make him laugh. Or more importantly, I can still make him laugh AND I get to be myself (Read: can shout at him at my discretion). So ladies, while you make a note of the doctor’s advice above, the men can enjoy this quote by George Burns that I have so thoroughly begun to understand now:

“Do you know what it means to come home at night to a woman who gives you a little love, a little affection, a little tenderness? It means you are in the wrong house, that what it means.”

*All images courtesy Google

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

When your problem is not actually The problem !!

Sometimes it’s not the problem but the thought or our perception of the problem that troubles us more. A kid thinks that there can’t be anything worse than a lost pencil or eraser because he dreads his mommy’s temper back home. History and Mathematics are the biggest trouble makers for the teens and a broken heart for all college goers. But there are people in this world who do not have the luxury of owning such “problems”, because for them survival is the biggest challenge. They don’t know where their next meal is coming from; the kids don’t know what a school is or whether they will ever go to one. 
For instance, take me and my hair. I have never had the privilege of owning a long healthy mane. It’s a genetic thing. My mom has hair like that and so do I – light, frizzy and dry! Now having to deal with something like that is like being punished for none of your fault. But I only realized this later that it is a very small price to pay for all the other luxuries that God has bestowed me with.

I had a typical boy-cut hair style for my entire school life and even during the first year of college. They say college changes you in many ways. I saw girls doing stuff to their hair during parties and functions. Some plaited them loosely with a lonely strand flirtingly left loose, while others let loose the entire length to make the boys drool and to make the girls jealous. And jealous I did get. And ironically enough, all my girl-friends had waist length lustrous hair. It was during this time that I decided to grow my hair, and to come out of the self inflicted tomboyish image. But then when your genes deprive you of something, you hardly can make up for it externally. My hair did grow but the growth wasn’t too good, nor was the quality of hair. They were limp and frizzy and looked like a pig’s tail. There was no volume and it was lifeless. 
Then a couple of years back, my aunt suggested me to try Dove Oil therapy as it was specifically designed for dry and lifeless hair. I had tried various other "specially for dry hair" shampoo brands and apparently nothing had worked. And so, although, I did give this one a try, I didn't keep up with it. Because deep down I always believed that I could never have hair like Rapunzel or any other Disney ladies because I was just not born with it. Even though Dove did moisturize my hair well and made it look more manageable, I still let go of it! Sigh!
Sometime back, I happened to meet the aunt. I was aghast to see her cropped hair. Being a true blue South Indian, I had always seen her hip length thick wavy jet black hair that could give any shampoo commercial model a run for her money. She was the "gurukul" as far as the hair problems of the girls in our family were concerned. So I asked her why she had so mercilessly cropped her mane, even though secretly in my heart I was admiring her in the new hair cut. And it was then that she revealed that she had been diagnosed with cancer and had undergone a couple of chemotherapy sessions and that was the reason for her short hair. In fact she had lost them all, and she had come visiting only when she had recovered her health as well as some of her hair. I couldn't react. My mouth fell, I froze. 
Everyone started reminiscing about the older days when she was the cynosure of all eyes because of her hair. And I just remembered what she always used to say. That what you have got is so much more than what other people can only dream of.  But I always cribbed about my imperfect life because I couldn't be attractive like the other girls. She always encouraged me saying that it was so much easier to style light hair whereas she had no option but to plait her never ending thick mane. It never made sense to me. I just wanted what I couldn't get. But that day at that moment I realized what she had been saying all along.

The problem was not if I could get hair like hers. The problem actually was what I could do with my hair like it was. I had a shampoo that was working for me and I just had to make full use of it. And that moment of realisation was the beginning of the end of my hair problems. I only had to look at it from a different perspective and in actuality, work towards a solution instead of crying foul about the un-fairness of it all!

It's been some time since I have been using Dove and you know what have I done with it? I have changed my weakness into my strength. My hair still doesnt have too much volume, but it's way more silky, smooth and presentable. And what's more! I can leave it loose, pin it up or just make a mess of it. Just like aunty said. There's a solution to every problem, sometimes right in front of us. We just have to start looking for it, instead of cribbing about it.
And that's my chic ponytail look with fringes! Tell me you like it :-P
 And infact, now there is an even easier way out. You can't figure out what your hair problem actually is? Just like me? Visit the Dove Hair Aware app and know about your hair type and also what kind of Dove products would suit you the best. Every hair has a story. Your hair speak to you in a language that only you can understand. I understood mine the hard way. Have you understood yours?

This story has been written for the Dove contest on Indiblogger.
You can vote for me here.

*All images used here are either my own or taken from Google.

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Babyhood chronicles!

I love babies. So much so that sometimes when I look at a very cute one, I have a longing to have one of my own. Half of H and half of me. It sounds utterly romantic to me. But I know the real process of making a baby is anything but that. :-P So there. But this post is about S, my nephew, my first baby :-))

You are the showstopper today. You haven’t been mentioned in this space ever.  You’d ask why? Because you mean to me what I can’t even begin to put into words. But today I am missing you so much that I had to do this. To ease my own pain. To bring to the surface all the happy emotions and feelings and memories I have with you. Nostalgia is a very strange thing. All those sad memories make me laugh now, and all those moments that we spent having the time of our lives, make my eyes well up. So, while I will go nostalgic trying to recall all those stupid, funny, cute, maddening stories all over again, I will try not to cry *sniff*

You came into my life when I was in college. I was so happy that day I had my first scooty accident, although I had been driving it for almost 2 years then. I was so excited that I was shivering and I hit the ground with smile on my face because I was trying to picture you in my thoughts. Anyway, I got up, brushed myself and ran home because I wanted to see you. I still remember that first moment when I saw you. You were sleeping. I was scared to touch you lest it hurt. Even while sleeping, you got scared by the camera flash. And look at you today! All ready to pose and do so much natak all the time. :-))

You used to love playing in the night when everyone else was asleep. You remember those nights? I did stupid antics to make you laugh, and humor me you did. I remember both us laughing and rolling for no reason at all. In the morning, I used to be half asleep and tired but when I saw you sleeping peacefully, I gloated to everyone that I was the reason behind it. Little did I know that you were the reason because of which I could study even when I was tired to my bones. Your smile did that to me.

And then one day I had to leave. Go away to another city. We parted ways. And then you remember that time when I came to meet you after 8 months? You had almost forgotten me, almost too shy to acknowledge me. But within two hours, you were the brat I always knew – naughty smart kickass. I still remember my disbelief at hearing you speak those cute little broken sentences. Nothing has ever sounded better to me. I still remember those 3 days that I spent with you. You would eat with me, sleep with me, play with me, refusing to leave my side even for a second. And didn’t I feel proud about that?

And then came the day when I had to go back. You were glued to me at the railway station. I had a lump in my throat too. It wasn’t easy for me to pry myself away from you. But was there any other way? When the train left the station, I saw you crying and tried to push back my own tears. But do you know that I cried the whole waking part of my 24–hour journey? I had swollen eyes when I reached my city. It just broke my heart to be away from you. And that day I understood what a real heart break actually feels like! :-(

Then began our meetings which were far and few in between . We always looked forward to meeting each other. And  I loved it when you gave me special attention, awaiting my home coming and then climbing on my lap immediately and asking for your gifts, which were always the best and the most in number. You remember those dinosaur balls? :-P

6+ years into the relationship and you are naughtier than ever. But I know how much you love me. You are too young to understand that feeling, but I can see it in your eyes when you understand that I have to leave and I can’t be with you all day, every day. Your conversations make me smile and laugh. Your perspective of the world is so cute, it makes my heart all gooey. You know how much I love you and you never fail to take advantage of that, don’t you? But then, I love your expression when you think you have made a mamu out of me.

Sometimes I think about how my baby will be. Although there’s another couple of years for that. I don’t know how he/she will be like. But I have always loved you like my first born. I don’t know if I have it in me to love another one so dearly and passionately. But I do wish that you can read this when you grow up and know that I loved you with all my heart and all my love. I always wish you get the best life has to offer. And even though I get upset that you don't call me maasi, I am secretly super happy and kicked in my heart because you have given me a special name that is so much more cute and cool. Thank you baby for being what you are and making me what I am!

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Happy Birthday to me - 2012

For all its worth, this could definitely be my last birthday celebration on this earth. That is if the latest date of world doom according to the Mayan text is to believed (Dec 21, 2012). But then I was never big on birthdays anyway. I am not really the kind of person who would go out and throw a huge lavish party or drink the night away doing crazy stuff, and then make the next day unbearable. Unlike last year when I took an entire week off to visit a couple of cities, this year was way quieter. But that's only metaphorically. Because going by the gifts He has been gifting me this month, the celebrations look far from over. The gifts started pouring in as soon as last month when I won myself a lot of goodies from the blogger meet, including a brand new phone.

This year, H took me to this pub called Qba in Delhi, where there was a stand up comedy act. And boy, was it funny! We laughed our guts out for close to one and a half hours. I laughed till my sides hurt, my eyes had tears rolling down and I had spilled my drink twice over my new dress.So that was a great way to usher the birthday in, laughing and rolling.

The major part of the day went by quite uneventful because of the unbearable hot weather. In the evening we did go out and as many of you would already know that I have a twin sister M, went to meet her. We cut the cake and spent some great time together cracking jokes and fooling around.

I got a couple of gifts from the family which were very sweet. I also got 2 books from my office buddies. Needless to say, I was overjoyed! Can there be any better gift than that? Thank you besties :-)

And then came the best news of the day.
I won the third prize for my entry for the Lakme Indiblogger contest.
And I have won myself a cool Amazon Kindle. Isn't that great? I am ecstatic and on top of the world.

Dear God,
Where ever you are, I just want to say a Big Thank you for showering me with so many gifts this year. There is absolutely nothing more that I can ask you for. You have been so great to me. It just makes me feel that I am doing something right. I hope I can continue doing it and we can carry on happily with our awesome relationship dynamics ;-))