Posted in my musings... on 05/12/2007 08:01 am by sudha lakhera
Amusingmuse, is in a contemplative mood, mulling over love and life in general, and thinking
How easy is it for people in love to come to terms with the 'Exes' in the lives of their partner? "I am still friends with my Ex!" "My Ex and I still share a great friendship minus the passion!" "I loved the food my 'Ex's' mom cooked!". "I was discussing this with 'Ex' and 'the person' doesn't think it's a great idea!" "The 'Ex' asked me when you and I are taking our relationship to the next level!" Careless statements which regardless of the 'open mindedness' of the spouse / current partner involved more often than not cause a twinge in the heart, even if it is for a split second. In theory nice to hear sentences but practically ?
Maybe the approach of the 'Hollywood crowd' is best ' 'Ex husbands' attend as 'best man' their 'Ex wife's' wedding, 'Ex husbands' and 'Ex wives' go on holiday (for benefit of the kids!) leaving slightly 'snuffed out' current flames behind, 'Ex boyfriends' and 'Ex girlfriends' land up in each other's apartments for a little bit of hanging around (what were you thinking?). Ofcourse, Hollywood has its share of 'showdowns' but on an average they are nice 'friendly' people at ease with their multitude of relationships.
Maybe, the 'Bollywood saga' approach is best where loads of tears, some bottles of booze, explanations and chocked assurances ensure a happy ending. The sad part is that the spurned or 'Ex' lover is either of villainous intent or the 'too good to be true all sacrificing' kinds. Hate them or love them true love reigns supreme and the couple get back to 'living happily ever after' with or without the 'ex' of questionable intent
Personally I wouldn't relish my boyfriend running off to an 'ex' for bouts of 'you are my friend' every now and then. Maybe, an introduction to the person in question and being made an integral part of the 'maintaining friendship sessions' I might relent and take things in my stride! But my mindset I am sure would be 'boo'ed' by many forward thinkers ' it might even be considered encroachment of the all important 'space'. Love & lust of yesterday converted into platonic friendship today with just 'we breakup' as a catalyst is a formula I am still trying to understand!
I invite comments from - people who are battling insecurities about their partners friendship with an 'ex', people who have come to terms with it, people who put their foot down and said 'no room for your ex in our present' and the inexperienced who hold an opinion in this matter.
By the way friends, turbulence in the relationship of two very much in love people, because of a 'friendly ex' prompted this post J Just a clarification for the curious!
Posted in my musings... on 05/06/2007 12:22 pm by sudha lakhera
Occasionally, I talk in my sleep ' many of us do and mostly it is a few incomprehensible sentences or maybe a few groans and grunts. My case is slightly different, though not a regular 'dream talker' when I do talk ' I sure talk! Any change in environment or location invariably means a couple of nights of chatter and then peace.
My roommate tells me she has a groggy memory of me yelling 'snakes' at the top of my voice at some god forsaken hour some nights ago. The snakes, obviously made a speedy disappearance because I didn't utter another word for the remainder of the night and my roomie unconcerned about the reptiles, who could be invading my dreams slept soundly too.
The night before last however, my friend's endurance gave way. She supposedly woke up to me yelling 'I can't see anything! I can't see anything ' its so dark!' I guess my trip to the 'house of horrors' at Universal Studios the same day had some bearing on my hysterical display in the dead of night. Anyways, my friend jolted out of slumber, bolted from her bed, saw a shadowy figure on my bed (which of course was me sitting upright), thought I was being attacked and decided she could save me by yelling louder. A few yells later, she realized it was I, who was sitting on the bed, unmoving and patiently repeating that it was quite dark and that I couldn't see. Taking control of her frayed nerves my roommate, explained it was dark because it was night and that I should shut up and get back to sleep. Surprisingly, I took her advice, lay down and only woke up the next morning to the mutterings of a very annoyed female. A very exasperated room mate tried to tell a very sleepy me about the happenings of the night,however having absolutely no recollection of the night's dramatic events I assumed she was talking about herself and told her to think nothing of it. I added that she often mutters in her sleep and that I had heard nothing the night before so she shouldn't worry about having disturbed me. Ofcourse, the lady jumped at my throat!
My 'sleep talking' is also one of the reasons why my sister is not very enthusiastic to share a bedroom with me. We were both alone at home, some years ago and after watching the movie 'Raaz' (which is a horror flick complete with blood curdling screams) late into the night fell into slightly uneasy slumber, with the lights left on to give us some courage! Well, it seems my sister woke up in the middle of the night to find me sitting up in bed staring at her sleeping figure, all the while muttering something under my breath. The situation, the hour, the silence and my loose, black hair teamed with a pale nightdress, I am sure would have given the staunchest of ghost busters a shiver and incase of my kid sister who has never been known for her bravery it was her worst fears come true. The poor, terrified soul gave a piercing scream (to this day I haven't figured out why the neighbours never turned up) which shattered the thin walls of my dreamland and made me wake up with a start. It took me an hour and my favourite bracelet to pacify her and get her to spend the rest of the night in my room!
Ofcourse, my family is by now used to my infrequent nocturnal ranting which are usually not as loud or energetic as in the case of incidents above. My mother though is yet to come to terms with it ' she insists that I talk in my sleep because I have done something to offend the gods ' like having laughed during a Pooja,, turned my back to an idol in the temple or worse still having eaten beef! At regular intervals she hounds me for a confession on my wrongdoings so that she can appease the God’s involved! My brother on the other hand says he is not surprised that I can't stop talking even when I am asleep considering the fact that I have been barmy ever since he has known me. My father's problem is slightly different' it seems I speak in English during my dreams and that too very fast. His grouse is that due to language constraints he is unable to make head or tale of what I say thereby missing out on chances to know of my darkest secrets!
Thank heaven for an education system which expounds the importance of thinking and conversing in the English tongue - so what if we have a first language that should be given preference?
Posted in my musings... on 01/08/2007 12:39 pm by sudha lakhera
Haven’t posted anything in quite a while now. Rack my brains as I might, am unable to think of anything to write on (suggestions are welcome!) so am, sharing this poem with fellow ilanders. The poem is titled ‘Cleaning House.’ I don’t know who the creator is but it sure makes loads of sense…
Last Week I threw out Worrying,
it was getting old and in the way.
It kept me from being me;
I couldn’t do things my way.
I threw out those Inhibitions;
they were just crowding me out.
Made room for my New Growth,
got rid of my old dreams and doubts.
I threw out a book on MY PAST
(didn’t have time to read it anyway).
Replaced it with New Goals,
started reading it today.
I threw out childhood toys
(remember how I treasured them so)?
Got me a NEW PHILOSOPHY too,
threw out the one from long ago.
Bought in some new books too,
called I CAN, I WILL, and I MUST.
Threw out I might, I think and I ought.
WOW, You should’ve seen the dust.
I ran across an OLD FRIEND,
haven’t seen him in a while.
I remember His name is GOD,
Yes, I really like his style.
He helped me to do some cleaning
and added some thing’s Himself.
Like PRAYER, HOPE and FAITH,
Yes I placed them right on the shelf.
I picked up this special thing
and placed it at the front door.
I FOUND IT…its called PEACE.
Nothing gets me down anymore.
Yes, I’ve got my house looking nice.
Looks good around the place.
For things like Worry and Trouble
there just isn’t any place.
It’s good to do a little house cleaning,
get rid of the old things on the shelf.
It sure makes things brighter;
maybe YOU should try it yourself.
Happy New Year friends!
Posted in my musings... on 12/22/2006 01:43 pm by sudha lakhera
At a restaurant last night a slightly dispirited Santa distributed chocolates with half hearted attempt at Christmas bonhomie. Wonder if he would have related to his role better if there had been some carols playing in the background? Though decorated with glittering streamers and the usual Christmas paraphernalia, the spirit of Christmas was missing in the crowded eatery. The malls and their exhausted staff too are decked up in an attempt to woo business, hawkers run on the streets selling red tasseled caps shouting ‘Heppy Cismas!’ to the world in general hoping to make a sale.
Christmas is certainly in the air but all the glimmer and glitter doesn’t seem to bring cheer to weary souls. People look as stressed out, uninterested and lethargic as ever - their gait is stilted and they wear plastic smiles.
By far, the most heart warming Christmas sight I saw in Bangalore was a group of seven or eight hawkers, both men and women, sitting in a circle, late in the night, wearing their unsold red caps, laughing uproariously, chatting excitedly, drinking tea! For that moment in time, sharing a cold winter night, some happiness and cheer they were the spirit of Christmas personified!
So why am I not cheerful - why do I miss Christmas? Maybe, I miss the Holly berries that were an essential to Christmas celebrations in the hills, the real Christmas trees decorated with love and attention, the smell of mince pies and plum cake that wafted out of houses, the strain of carols in the air - yes, I do. But what I really miss is the people attending midnight mass, covered from head to toe, battling the chilly winds, singing lustily to the accompaniment of an old piano! I miss - the coffee and salty biscuits that followed the mass, the animated chatter and banter. I miss - the little stockings of goodies which found their way to our home sent by warm hearted people full of neighborly love.People, who did not discriminate between those who followed their faith and those who did not and shared their festival with delight. I miss - the togetherness celebrated by those happy people bound by cords of faith and the spirit of Yuletide.
In a city, where the commercial value of this season is exploited to the fullest without as much as a thought to the reason for celebrations, a lot seems to be missing!
These are the opening lines from the classic ‘Little Women’
“Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents,” grumbled Jo, lying on the rug.
“It’s so dreadful to be poor!” sighed Meg, looking down at her old dress.
“I don’t think it’s fair for some girls to have plenty of pretty things, and other girls nothing at all,” added little Amy, with an injured sniff.
“We’ve got Father and Mother, and each other,” said Beth contentedly from her corner.
Call me romantic if you will but Beth makes sense - Christmas is a season to celebrate ‘having each other’
Posted in my musings... on 11/30/2006 09:43 am by sudha lakhera
This morning an auto driver said ‘thank you’ when I handed him the fare and added ‘have a nice day!’ While I nearly fell out of the auto at this unaccustomed courtesy - I was elated! A single sentence from him made me smile, made me forget the eight other auto rickshaw drivers who refused to ply a distance of less than a km, in the same morning. Minimum fare you see, doesn’t make them happy and why would they be concerned about a commuter trying to make it in time to work?.
I remember with pleasure shopping trips with my mother to small shops in our town. The shopkeepers welcomed us with a smile, they spoke endlessly on their wares, provided updates on the latest trends and offered refreshments. Walk into a slightly upmarket store today and more often than not, a plastic smile is thrown in your direction by a snooty looking sales person. This sales person will go on to appraise you from head to toe before deciding if he/she wants to assist you. The trend has changed, yet we shell out more money and still patronize establishments manned by indifferent staff.
At Global Access the other day, a friend and I walked upto a counter wanting to look at cell phones. An immensely cheesed off looking sales person, gave us a cursory glance and then stood still. With no signs of assistance from him I was forced to enquire ‘I’d like to see some phones please’ ‘Which one’ he shot back not moving an inch from his position or bringing any change to his facial ex-pression of total boredom. I told him and he extracted two demo pieces of the phones I had asked for. No explanations, no sales pitch - he gave the shortest possible response to our queries. The fact that we made a purchase of nearly 10 thousand too did not seem to interest him. We left a comment at the cash counter - i wonder if it will be followed up?
Each one of us in our professional or personal capacity touches another human life then why have we become so cold and indifferent. Why is it then that we no longer smile, say a kind word or show small courtesies to one another? Lets make a difference today like the Rickshaw driver did…
SMILE 
Posted in my musings... on 11/15/2006 01:05 pm by sudha lakhera
Lalitha Krishanan’s post is disturbing http://ilivelife.rediffiland.com/scripts/xanadu_diary_view.php?postId=1163329196 - not only because it is yet another tale of a groping adult but also because even now, she seems to feel a helplessness against what happened to her all those years ago. Lalitha, I can only say thank you for bringing about an awareness by sharing such a personal and painful experience - giving us a first hand account. The past is now behind you but there is a future in the form of other children - if you see something wrong please speak up! The key maybe is ‘caution’ not ‘hatred’.
It was close to two in the morning, a friend and I sat at the coffee shop watching at the opposite table a man in his mid thirties talking animately to two young girls. The girls - not more than 16 hung on to every word of his, wide eyed and adoring . At first glance it seemed as my friend remarked, ‘an uncle baby sitting’ It soon however, became very evident, that the hungry gleam in the guys eyes were certainly not very fatherly. A look around and I realized that there were quite a few young girls spending the wee hours of their morning there. Girls in their teens, expensively dressed and well educated, attempting sophistication with a cigarette between their lips, at ease with men who were not family, indifferent to the hand resting casually on their thigh or draped across their shoulder.
Are parents in a misguided attempt to being ‘cool’ and ‘a good friend’ forgetting that it becomes imperative to put their foot down once in a while? Maybe, they don’t care, they know no better or have no time… How is it that even educated and upwardly mobile parents don’t realize when their child is being exploited?
The scene at the coffee shop was disturbing - maybe I am over reacting…
Posted in my musings... on 09/28/2006 01:12 pm by sudha lakhera
She sat hunched up in the pouring rain, her head bowed on the outskirts of the reserve forest area. We stopped to help, she snarled at us looking violent. On the outskirts of the Masinagudi forest we saw this deranged, middle aged woman who would not let us close - would not let us help…we drove back to our warm and comfortable beds. I did nothing, I did not know what to do…yet she haunts my thoughts. I wonder what happened to her, I wonder what happens to the many homeless insane who should be in an asylum but are left to fend for themselves in a world of sane people…?
In Mumbai, at 05:00 in the morning sipping tea, I awaited my train at the never empty Dadar station. I didn’t even notice an old woman standing there, till she came closer and thrust her hand forward. Used to beggars I would have ignored her if I hadnt seen her downcast eyes and the look of shame on her face - she was certainly no regular beggar. A closer look proved it - she was wearing a clean saree, in the parting of her hair were faint traces of sindoor and her eyes told of the humiliation she was undergoing. I handed her some money, i do not know how much but I could not bear to look her in the face. The train came, I got in and throughout the journey her plight played on my mind. I wish I could have heard her story, done something for her but yet again I left her behind on a railway platform to help herself. What happens to the old people thrown on the streets but ungrateful children or with no one to care for them…?
Delhi, at the signal this child who was maybe four stood. His face painted, hands outstretched he stood captivated by the brightly coloured remote controlled toy held by a child his age in the car. The difference between the two children was stark but they stood connected for a moment… by a toy. A cuff on the head by a female beggar (the childs mother?) reminded him of his duties. As he went through the song and dance routine I wonder what thoughts were in his little mind? The signal turned green, again I felt a helplessness surround me as I moved forward leaving the little boy and his desires at the signal. What happens to children on the street, some abandoned, some orphaned some brought into the world to meet mercenary needs of parents who don’t care or can’t afford to care…
All these incidents came back to me this morning when I saw a man lying on the side of the road. He was twitching and convulsing suffering from an epileptic fit. I stood and watched him till the fit wore off. I gave him some water asked him if he was ok? He nodded, got up, dusted his clothes and walked off. Life for him would go on and maybe he had got used to lying on the road in the throes of a fit while busy Bangaloreans passed him by without a second glance
Different states, different humans yet all bonded by misery and suffering. Disturbed by these sights, which are so common I have no idea what to do, how to help…? What cheers me up is that there are still a few people who go out of their way to make a difference to one life - they make an impact. If each of us could make a difference to one life maybe there would be one less homeless old person, one less uneducated child, one less person lying dead on the road for lack of aid…
A dream maybe but then again could be a reality - over to you!
