I was waiting with my mother for our turn at a doctor's chamber. She too was waiting for her turn. I had seen her earlier too, at the same place. We only smiled at each other on the other occasions. She was accompanied by her son who was perpetually talking on his cell-phone. Bored, she struck up a conversation with us. Her husband was admitted in the hospital and she had come to talk to the doctor about her husband's progress to health. They had been married almost 46 years ago. She did not meet her husband till everything was fixed by the families. There was no going back then. She told me that she always visualized a husband who was dapper likeDev Anand but her husband, well… (all she did was smile sheepishly).

But, good girls did not defy their families, so she got married to the guy with loads of regrets about what may have been. Initially, though she never showed it, she was full self pity. But as time flew she realized how unwise she was in her judgment. With an impish smile on her face, she told me, how some of her friends were almost jealous of the way her husband looked after her. He made sure that she was always treated with respect by everyone in the family, even by their own kids. When their second kid was born (they were on a foreign posting) he took care of the home & the older kid leaving her to concentrate on the new-born & herself.

Today, she feels her husband was God's greatest gift to her. She is especially thankful that she did not voice her displeasure when marriage negotiations were on, otherwise who knows what kind of man she would have been married to. She acknowledges that in the success of their long & happy marriage her husband's contribution was great. And, she added tongue in cheek, the men of her husband's age all look more or less the same today, no matter how good-looking they were in their youth.
This encounter reminded me of what Sister Adele ,Principal of our school, used to tell us —– instead of fretting at the sight of the cloud look for the sun behind it & you shall see the rainbow appear'

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She is a very gifted bonsai artiste. Her house is decorated with the little editions of various fruit trees with cute looking fruit laden branches. Seeing her work to create these beauties is a wonder she carefully twists branches together, ties up the roots, gives them an antiseptic bath etc. and finally  decorates the base with marbles and colored stone chips. I often visit her place to see her new creations, watch her work and sometimes help her with "bathing" the plants in antiseptic solution.

Last weekend too was one such day. As we were working, the telephone rang. It was her son's   science tutor calling. He was going to be out of the city next week so he wanted to take the class on Sunday. Very politely, yet very firmly she said no her son's Saturdays are Sundays are fully packed with "hobby" courses to prepare him for life. As she returned to bathing her plants, she started talking about the dreams she had for her only son's future

The weekend kicked off for the little boy (he studies in std. V) with swimming early in the morning followed directly by abacus classes from abacus to drawing classes to lessons in keyboards & guitars , lawn tennis, chess, karate & even dramatics all packed into Saturdays & Sundays.

I gaped at the lady and asked her when he gets the time to pursue his own hobbies and interests. She seemed surprised but nonchalant after all are these not hobby classes?

She went on to explain the pains that they (her husband & she) have taken to chalk out the blueprint of his co-curricular activities .everything was planned in a way that he  stands out  in the crowd in future and excels in life. Everything in his life is planned out, right down to when and for how long he may watch T.V.

I was almost angry with her for treating her son as a commodity or investment for the future. She was treating the child like a bonsai tree that she creates where everything is manipulated by the creator right down to which fruit/flower will be allowed to remain on the branches, a creation where everything is decided by necessity or aesthetics rather than by the simple pleasure of existing!

And then suddenly, looking straight at me with her limpid eyes, she explained, why she, so desperately wants her son to succeed. She hailed from a semi'urban background where girl's education was not exactly the top priority for parents. Her husband had to cut short his academic career as the family business had nose-dived and joined his father in the business. Today their business is doing very well and they are flushed with funds. Yet, they feel socially inferior as they are not very educated. She knows that her "friends" find her faulty English amusing, that her husband's inability to play golf well makes him paranoid of attending the Sunday meets at the club . By  God's Grace they have everything today and their sole aim is to see that their son does not suffer from the same kind of complexes that they  are victim to ..

This confession took the wind out of the sails of my displeasure .it was a very ambivalent moment for me . Was it really as simple as I thought? Was she really treating her son as her trophy to show-off to the world? Or is it simply her way to protect her child from the pain of living life in the peripheries and shadows? I have found no answer

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friends….my iland is under attack from array….so some comments r vanishing from the page….please do paste the comment on gb if it happens with you….i value your opinions very much. i have lodged a complaint with rediff  and i hope to see an end to this at the earliest.

"Forget it and move on"— an oft-heard, oft-repeated phrase, the mantra of the modern day living!!!! Whatever happens in life you get to hear these words. Broken heart? Forget it and move on .  Exams results not good enough? Forget it and move on….Misunderstandings? Forget it and  move on ..oh yes life is a journey, so we have no options but to move on & keep moving whatever the terrain, however hard the journey. Current of life will sweep us along with its flow .do we have any other choice but to move on?

 Forgetting the past is definitely not possible,(unless one is struck with amnesia). Human mind has been heralded as the most sophisticated  computer ever known .unfortunately it doesn't come with its ALT+CTRL+DEL option nor can it be reformatted!

Recently, bumping into someone I used to know ages ago, made me realize how powerful memories are. Just the glimpse of a familiar face refreshed memories of days gone by .and incidents which I had "forgotten" or  had been pushed far back into the recesses of the mind seemed like a movie replaying right in front of my eyes like it all happened yesterday everything was vivid ..Nothing had been forgotten, but what struck me most was the fact that our perspectives and viewpoints had undergone a complete change .

The things that had seemed ridiculously funny then seemed quite insipid or even stupid in retrospect the things that had mattered enough to create bitterness had just ceased to matter anymore in fact it seems today that all of us had been very immature in "over-reacting" but at that point of time it had appeared that it was more important than even the decision to test the Agni missile! Most of all the "enormously" important issues of yesterday did not find a mention even in the passing .but it was not a conscious attempt to avoid the topics. Yet .we had NOT forgotten anything so then what had changed what made us move on?

I guess it was not forgetting but accepting it that makes it possible for us to move on yes, we were stupid, hasty, immature, impatient, stuck-up, & whatever ..imperfect in one word .but then it only proves just one thing WE ARE HUMAN .And its no sin to be one .”Accept it and move on“ life will definitely be an easier game to play!

Pushing the unwilling trolley, early in the morning, I entered the airport to catch a flight amidst heavy security arrangements. It was soon after the Mumbai terror attacks and no one minded the extravagant security checks that we were made to go through. In fact we felt reassured that our safety was being ensured! 

At the gate, one of the two mustached guards, checked each passenger's e-ticket minutely, and in a gruff voice said, "photu", referring to photo-identity card when my turn came, I mechanically handed over mine which has a picture of mine  taken 9years ago the man looked at the picture, then at my face and nodded and let me pass through. The guy could see a resemblance between a 9 years old passport "photu" and the person by just a single, simple glance!

Next stop was at the end of a long Q for baggage x-ray. There seemed to be a mini chaos there. Some people had been asked to open their suitcases and bags for checking. After the security personnel were done with it, they were left in a mess…MESS in capital letters!!!

The affected passengers were desperately trying to reorganize their clothes etc. back into their suitcases which suddenly seemed to have magically shrunk in size. They were grumbling and cursing all the way .at 5.30 a.m. repacking bags in full view of public, is not really an amusing thing to do .

Thankfully, my suitcase did not interest the guys watching the x-ray the screen, & I made as quick an exit from that area as I could and thanked god for sparing me the ordeal

After completing the check in formalities, as I proceeded for the security check, a light tap on my shoulder made me look around. It was a colleague of mine who was traveling to another city, by another flight.

The personnel at the security check meant business & took their own time in checking each piece of hand baggage thoroughly with the blandest look on their faces. A lady ahead of me had a ball of Gouda cheese in her bag which was summarily taken away. It sat crest-fallen alongside many bottles of astringents, purse perfumes, and gel lipsticks and what not!

The lady was trying her best to convince the policewomen on duty that it was a harmless food item that she was taking for her grandchild. The policewoman, unmoved, asked her to move aside. Even as they were talking the sudden sound of breaking glass near the dust bin alerted everybody. People turned (with tense faces) to see a middle aged man standing near the dustbin with a very, very, very ferocious scowl on his face and angrily muttering something inaudible

It turned out that he had arrived by an international flight and was taking a connecting domestic flight to his hometown. He had bought two bottles of liquor from the duty free shop at the international airport which he was carrying in its sealed bag as hand baggage. The staff at domestic airport refused to let him carry it as cabin baggage. They insisted that he leave it there & claim it later (although they would not give any receipt for the same). Frustrated, when all arguments failed, the man broke both the bottles and dumped them into the dust bin.

After our security checks ,as we were walking towards the seats in the waiting lounge, my colleague, suddenly stopped short, as a sound, something between a gasp and a sigh, escaped from him. I turned to see a weird ex-pression of incredulity mixed with relief on his face. He pulled his hand out of his trouser pocket and on his open palm lay an almost full matchbox (he is a smoker, who had genuinely forgotten about the existence of the matchbox in his pocket) which had obviously been security checked!

A senior colleague was talking about her first crush one day. She had really beautiful stories to tell about about umm whatever it was that "they" shared together. Generally, the stories were full of fun and laughter. It was a college romance (sometime in the middle of 1970s) which ended at the college gates itself. It consisted of stolen glances, unspoken words, an association that existed in the unspecified territory between friendship and love. She spoke fondly of that time in her life with a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes!

Someone commented, "What's the use of everything if the ending is not happy? A perfect love story is one that has a happy ending." It got me thinking about the inter-relation between "happiness" and "perfect endings." Why is it that we always try to justify the beginning and the middle with reference to the end .or a part with reference to the whole? Each moment is precious in itself .if life is a gift by god then so is each moment that makes up life. Why should the sadness of one moment take away all the happiness of the other moments? And what about the smiles that happy memories bring and suddenly, out of nowhere, brighten up a very mundane moment

As I heard these words, I went into a flash back of sorts I cannot really remember too many stories that I have seen in my life, which had perfect endings, or were free of any imperfection MOST of the stories amble on sometimes happy, sometimes sad, never perfect but always unique and satisfying even in its incompleteness ..

Anyways, perfection does not guarantee happiness, nor does imperfection imply unhappiness or incompleteness. In fact, many imperfect moments are a cause of great amusement later on in life, and give us a reason to smile!  As for endings, I would rather judge the end from what I know of the middle and the beginning. The end, by itself, exists in the completely neutral zone I feel.

The quest of the human soul for the perfect ending, I guess, begins with the fairy tales we hear as little children all of them end with the words "happily ever after" and the hangover of these words last for ever. We are ready to endure everything if we are convinced that the ending is going to be good. And yes, I have met people who have given genuine chances of happiness a pass because they felt it wouldn't be long lasting. The very desire to hold on to "happiness", and perhaps, make it a slave, steals away many happy moments from our life and leaves it incomplete .

Gilda Radner summed it up very well in her book, It's Always Something,

I wanted a perfect ending… Now, I’ve learned, the hard way, that some poems don’t rhyme, and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle, and end.

Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next.

Mirror! Mirror! On the wall

Unlock the secret once for all

Tell me where to find the key

To solve the puzzle that is me!

While reading a blog by Ms. Nivia Dogra, I had unwittingly scribbled these lines on a piece of paper. Her post had raised the question in my mind as to what makes up the quintessential “me” and I struggled to answer the seemingly simple question "who am I?" I asked my friends for their perception of me which confused me even further

Unlimited possibilities arose in my attempt to define me, but, a definitive answer was not possible. Each answer to this eternal riddle called "who am I" throws up more questions.

My first serious brush with trying to describe myself came when during an interview for my post- graduation course where I was asked to give a "brief" introduction of myself as a "person" .I realized that I steadfastly stuck to the social aspects of my life! One of the professors conducting the interview had smiled and said, "But, I have read about these in your C.V. itself .something more?" I had dumbly shaken my head, but in my heart of hearts I knew that there were lots more . But how did it matter to anyone else! I was stringent about protecting what I believed is my "personal space"

With passing time I realized that I was not the only one each one of us keeps a certain part of "me" exclusively for our own selves. No, it has nothing to do with evil, wicked or immoral thoughts, actions or ideas .its just an integral part of  the "me space" 'the space that we keep aside to define our inner selves to our selves, to distinguish us from the world at large. Perhaps, it is this intrinsic "me" that prevents human kind from becoming robots!

There are also parts of our beings which are strangers even to us it's only under the most trying circumstances that that these facets of our personalities surface and sometimes leave us stunned! Yet, all of it goes on to make up the whole picture.

So, when the time comes for us to define ourselves in public, the questions arises, "how much to lay bare?" and, if we try to honestly analyze our selves, it is at this point that we get stuck .and the image in the mirror becomes that of a stranger looking back at us

Each day each moment, each experience teaches us something new and gives us fresh perspectives on life and living. It brings us face-to-face with newer aspects of our personalities making us aware of inner strengths that were lying dormant within us!

Perhaps, because life is a process of evolution, it is never possible to  conclusively define  a person as long as he or she is living

The immediate trigger to write on this topic was a colleague's son's experience at school. Having been given a rather complicated project for his age (he is in std. II), and that too while term exams were in progress, his mother helped him in preparing the project. It was a math project where triangles, rectangles, parallelogram etc. of specific measurements had to be created using matchsticks, drinking straws, ice-cream sticks etc.  When he submitted the project, his teacher was very excited at the level of perfection till it dawned on her that it was "too perfect"!  She very sweetly asked him to be very "honest" and tell her if anyone helped him & the child had "honestly" replied that his mother had. Guess what reward that he got for his honesty?  He was asked to solve all the sums of 3 exercises 5 times each! So much for honesty!!!….I am sure he will think twice before telling the truth again

This discussion drew everyone else in the room to share their own misadventures with "honesty". One guy mentioned that when he "honestly" told his ex bride-to-be about his plans to return to India(at that point of time he was working in USA) after completing his job assignment, the girl in question told him the next day itself that she wanted to study further and would like to postpone the wedding !  Needless to add the "relationship" fell through and both characters in question are now married to different people (the girl to an NRI)

Another lady said ,whenever she and her husband  stop for coffee on their way back home from work, they invariably enter the house grumbling about the "lousy traffic jams and how it wastes their time" to evade ma-in-law's ire. I do not remember how many times I have turned up late, simply because of bad time management, and ended up blaming pathetic traffic conditions for it.

Most had stories to tell of their college days when, on the pretext of preparing notes in the library, they would sneak out to see movies with friends!

Also common was how bosses except "honest opinions" to be just a reflection of their own thoughts .and anything else met with a look that says "acting too smart" .

I have been under attack from a wannabe writer and her cronies not so long ago . At the end of her story she had asked for "honest" opinion on her characterization skills stupid me took it seriously and  gave mine (based on  what had been taught at creative writing classes in school)and then ..whew! An explosion!!! This was followed by sniper attacks for a long while I have since learnt to differentiate between genuine people & people who only want to hear praises. Tough way to learn but I have learnt my lesson well.

Though no one has any evil intentions and everybody wants to tread the path of virtue and righteousness, yet to keep peace we often have to resort to taking the "not very honest" path. It is as T.S. Eliot said in his poem "The Hollow Men" —-

Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow .