The wedding season has finally culminated. I feel bloated with all those opulent feasts I’ve been part of this season. Conveniently ending with the wedding vows of one of my cousin’s who has apparently been very close to my heart right from my early childhood days. Considering the fact that he is older than me by merely a month, it’s almost like we’ve grown up together. The prospect of another person sharing his life is relatively amusing and apprehensive too. Add to this the barrage of cumulative jibes from all and sundry informing me that I am next, his wedding was an affair altogether. Although a great part of his wedding revelry was lost to me, thanks to the extra alcohol I helped myself to, it was a grand celebration nevertheless.
It all happened in so much of a hurry that I barely found time to discuss the turmoils going through his mind on the time preceding his marriage. An arranged marriage, they had barely got engaged a month back. I’m still finding it difficult to accept that he is married. Apart from the gloom that I have now virtually lost the company he used to offer me on the numerous sneaky night outs we have shared, I’m more than happy for him. And besides I’m overly excited about the approaching Holi festival. The first Holi is a grand celebration in our community and boy am I looking forward to it! He’ll be busy all this while with the numerous family dinner invitations and then will, soon after Holi, push off for his honeymoon to Australia and New Zealand (which incidentally both me and my cousin, as kids, had planned to go together on!) and I think it is only once he returns will I be able to catch him for a chat. And also get to know the woman who has caught my dear cousin’s fancy. Wish them all the best and God bless them both.
In the meantime all eyes are set on me. And it is almost time even I submitted to the fact that I need to settle down. Let’s see what future has in store for me. But for the time being, the wedding season has set me back by a couple of kilos and also rendered severe backache on me and I’m dying for a vacation. I’m looking at Shimla but let’s see how and when I manage to plan that break!

If the fairer sex has lots to complain about to nature for the numerous troubles and travails it has bestowed unto them, we lesser mortals (read males) have our own set of shortcomings. We have to veritably spend half of our life battling the ignominy of being spotted in public with tears brimming on our eyes. No matter how depressed a man is, it is a shame to be seen crying, a fundamental partly redundant in this age of metrosexual men, but present nevertheless. Add to this the agony of being on the wrong end of law, whenever a female is involved in any issue, irrespective of the circumstances. It is discrimination of a different kind. The point to emphasise is not that these laws should be amended. It is perfectly justified to have special sections dealing with abuse of the females, be it marital abuse or domestic violence or dowry harassment or even sexual abuse, because these are evils which do prevail and are worthy of a fair battle. But the fact is that the premise of any judicial system is that all are equal in the eyes of the law, be it rich or poor, strong or weak, male or female. So to address the root of the issue, what is imperative is to establish a procedure of a fair trial within the provisions of these stringent laws and to simultaneously ensure speedy trials of such delicate issues as it is well said, “Justice delayed is justice denied.” Should comment no more on this matter, as it is already decidedly off course from the actual subject of this blog post.

Barring the above observations, probably the supreme agony of a man (I don’t mean teenagers and below), is the daily errand of shaving the stubble of his chin. It is an enormous tragedy that an activity which even for a highly cautious man would demand no more than 15 minutes of his early morning schedule can become such a hurdle. I for myself consider my twice a week breakup of this task a huge disheartened performance of the job, considering the fact that my old man has been shaving his chin every single morning of my life, and I’m almost sure it has been so, even prior to my birth. There is something mysteriously eerie about this task that even the most ardent saloon-chic guy friends of mine are put off by the thought of having a shave in the morning or at best at the local barber shop. It is a phenomenon I have observed over years as a reluctant observer, even when I was a kid. I remember hearing my older cousins, dad’s friends and even some boys with overcharged hormones (who had incidentally started having a full growth beard way back in tenth grade itself!) frivolously cribbing over what a pain in the ass this task was. Back then, I used to, out of curiosity, wonder what the feeling would be like. I remember several times in my childhood I had discreetly tried using my dad’s razor on my hairless dimpled cheeks and ended up with nasty cuts which were too difficult to explain once they came under my mom’s vision (which had the obscene knack of spotting where trouble might exist). My childhood travails apart, I must admit, the more curios I got of this razor business, the more reluctance was shown by my body of development of this primary puberty characteristic. I was among the last in my known social circle to acquire that manly greenish tinge that a shaved chin displays. Till almost my second year of college I used to shy away from guy talk comprising of shaving fundamentals. Though no one ever pointed this out, there was a time when I actually used to sit and wonder, is there anything wrong with me? Nevertheless, it was after much waiting and hopeful desperation, I finally managed to have enough facial hair that needed use of a razor. There are no words to explain the exulting feeling!

This is one memory I shall never forget. I associate this event of my first shave in the annals of my mind with the following thought that erupted in my brain on that auspicious day. I had my first swig of beer and my first drag of cigarette even before my first shave. Well as days progressed I had a comfortable time gap of around a couple of weeks between shaves and I managed it with elegance. I used to pity guys who had to shave daily or even every couple of days. I used to love shaving myself and I used to dread those days when I had to go to the local barber’s for getting it done. It’s like driving a car, you can’t trust yourself to anyone else, I used to reason.

And then the time gap reduced gradually till I started having a subtle one-day stubble and a more pronounced two-day chin. To my chagrin, twice a week became mandatory as by the fourth day I used to cease looking like any part of the civil world. I stubbornly maintained twice a week till the immigration officer at the Delhi Airport failed to liken me in my third day stubble to the boy whose photograph was pasted on my passport. I had to reluctantly, upon the above said incident and after numerous tiffs with mom, start a routine of shaving every day. It was ironical. When I wanted to use the razor as a kid, my parents used to refrain me and when now, I felt reluctant to do the same, I was being pushed into it by them only. Nevertheless, I steal the opportunity to skip shaving every little when I can and now have truly recognised that shaving is such an arduous task and I would any day opt out of it. The cherry on the cake is that we can’t even opt for permanent hair removal (for obvious reasons!). And I’m writing this today primarily because, yes no prize for guessing, I haven’t shaved today!

A lazy Thursday morning. Monday blues are through and weekend is still far. I’m so looking forward to catching some sleep this Sunday, my weekly off. But I fear it’s gonna be really difficult, because it’s my parents 27Th wedding anniversary and some plans are in the pipeline. It’s amusing and really wonderful. My parents have been together for last 27 years through thick and thin, it’s a romance of the for ever and ever types, intermittent squabbles be ignored. But it is rightly said disagreements are the spice of any relation, what counts is the strength of the feelings that make the relationship. I’m so happy for my mom and dad and wish them togetherness and happiness for many more years to come.
I woke up unusually late today, owing partly to the strained muscles I have brought back from my Vaishno Devi trip. I have consciously avoided taking pain killers on the advice of my mom. Although most of the pain has subsided, the fatigue is still there in the muscles and hope to be perfectly fine soon enough. The housemaid has gone to her village for a week or more maybe and I have been induced to share the burden of a few household chores. So I have been making my own bed, hanging the towels out to dry, even chopping veggies to assist mom. Poor sis T, is having a tough time with her Board exams fast approaching but she is doing most of what she can for the household chores (and simultaneously battling fatigued muscles also from the Vaishno Devi trip). So eventually having gotten up late, also got late leaving from home. Consequently found more traffic on the roads which extended my journey till office by a good 20 minutes. With discomfort, I managed to climb the stairs of my First Floor office, just to find it locked. Apparently my office boy had decided to take an off without having the courtesy to inform me and my partner was still merrily at home tending to his own household responsibilities. No issues though, he has a wife and kids. I understand. So, had to descend the stairs once again, go to my car, fish out the keys to the office and climb the whole stairs again.
The office boy has incidentally walked in, as I write this post, having been delayed, by his own account, by missing the bus and a host of other excuses. I refrain from giving him a hiding.
Meanwhile one of my peculiarly sharp-tongued creditor called to enquire about the status of his payment. I had been dreading his call from the last couple of days. Today, unexpectedly he was in a good mood. I managed to pacify him easily. The recession has already taken its toll on my business. For two whole months I have battled to keep the production unit running, knocking on all doors I could to procure orders, struggling with dried receipts. But finally the silver lining has broadened and the sun is shining. Looking forward to better times ahead!
Cheers!

“I’m a dreamer and when I wake,

You can’t break my spirit, it’s my dreams you take”

After much deliberation and haggling with myself I have finally got my act together to sit down and pen my very first entry on ILand. I must admit that once my initial fascination with Rediff ILand was somewhat diminished, certain instances came to the fore which gave me second thoughts about adding another blog to my repertoire (I already have a blog on Bloggercalled Cerebral Potpourri). On the foremost being the error messages I have been receiving with the Add Friend link. Despite being on ILand for the past week, I have only managed to find one philanthropic friend in Farhan on ILand, despite being interested in the blogs of a variety of other wonderful people on ILand. Putting to rest these complications I finally decided to post this blog, unfazed by the “error adding friend” script I have still been receiving.

As a first post, I would dedicate this to a small formal introduction of myself. I’m Priyank Gupta, a resident of Delhi, not disclosing my age right now, B.Com graduate from Shri Ram College of Commerce, Delhi University, presently engaged in manufacturing and trading of Steel Scaffoldings in Delhi. Budding writer, presently penning a book with a working title “Posthumously”, a contemporary story set in Delhi, Gaya, Haridwar and Pakistan, haven’t found a publisher yet, not that I’ve started looking yet. Also planning to write a collection of short stories once I’m through with “Posthumously”.

Like most bloggers I know, even I am a loner. Not that I have no friends. I’ve had my share of buddy bonding and revelry, drunken spates, love and heartbreak. It’s just that at this juncture of life, I choose to remain aloof, casually avoiding parties and drinking and having successfully battled my tobacco handicap. Presently using my inane and simultaneously latent creativity to prop up my life. Have recently started yoga (fight of the bulge)and meditation (fight of the despair), which is happily bringing my life back on track. I haven’t been finding time to read much, which has been my first love right from my school days. Nevertheless, I have read a lot and have scores of novels stuffed in my cupboard which I reread whenevr I find time. Am not reading anything currently but my all time favourites are a book by the name “Presumed Innocent” by Scot Turow which is a courtroom drama of the Grisham genre but in a different flow altogether (I might even review the book some time soon on this blog) and “The Fountainhead” by Ayn Rand which is a cult book and merits no review. Apart from that “Gone with the wind” is another book which has left a deep impact on me, but is not the kind I would read too frequently (owing partly to its 1000+ pages). Am also an ardent fan of Sir Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes and have proudly read each and every story including the famous Hound of Baskerville and Valley of Fear.

I’m a true blood Delhiite. For me, Delhi is much more than Dilli Ki Chat and Dilli ki Sardi (which sadly is nowhere to be seen). Delhi, to me is my home, my family, my breathing space. It is where I have been born and it is where I shall in the end come to rest. Delhi is where I have loved, where I have hoped, where I have learnt to live life to the fullest despite shortcomings. My love affair with Delhi is for a lifetime.

For the record, I shall keep posting on ILand as frequently as I can manage and simultaneously also post on blogger, but shall copy posts from blogger here also as and when I feel like doing so. So till then see you and take care. Life!