Turn around and see

As you walk the walk of your life, I prefer running, but walking will reach you somewhere too. You often look back and see how your life has been. What matters is what you focus on when you look back. Is it the innocence that you had a few years ago, is it the mistakes that you did over the years ? Are you looking back at what you left behind? Or the luxury you had when it was the parents who paid your bills? 

How often do you look back and see how other people affected your life? I do nd

Changing terms of 'ladkewale dekhne aaye hain'

The litmus test that the girl has to go through cleared her but what about the boy? 

As far the history goes, for millions of years now girls have been serving 'chai', 'nashta', 'kanda-poha' and our very own samosas to their potential suitors who come to 'see' them with their families.

Actually, the age-old custom is nothing but a 4-step assessment of the girl. The four phases include physical fitness, overall beauty (which translates into fairness score), behavioural attributes and last but in no way the least, her cooking abilities (which I think is completely flawed, because the girl never prepares the snacks herself on that occasion).

Post the 4-step analysis, the girl and the boy (if they are lucky enough), get to speak to each other in solitary (which is highly awkward) so as to understand each other better.

Now before I am stamped 'feminist' or a pseudo liberal', I am must point out that our ancestors have laid the most feasible setup to choose the bride or the bridegroom considering the social circumstances in those times with a fairly decent rate of success.

However, over the years, society has gone through some major developments. Along with those transformations came the consciousness that A. A girl is not all that you come across in the 20-minute interaction. B. The litmus test that the girl has to go through cleared her but what about the boy? Isn't he also required to posses all those prerequisites that were made mandatory for her? This century-old system which we proudly call our culture needs an urgent makeover if not an absolute termination.

No wonder the Biba ad with the tagline change is beautiful' is doing rounds on social media has gained a million views so far though the concept may take another decade or so to percolate in our traditions.

Abbu, his son and me

How death can shock you inside out and then make you stronger

Ok so I am officially incapable of reacting the 'right' way when it comes to acknowledging demises. One of the many things I am confused about how I am not able to accomplish when the rest of the world so effortlessly can.

There's a friend who just lost someone close. I am obviously sad to hear that. So what should I be saying to him. Do you just say sorry, sympathise and call it a day? Aren't you suppose make the person feel a little better? Doesn't the person deserve a little more sensitivity? But that is where I get super confused. What do I do or say?

On any normal day, in a situation like this I would just drop a message (because I am too unprepared to face a real conversation) that I am sorry and hope and pray that God may give the strength to face it. Gosh I used to mess it up. Is that how you deal with a death?

So, this one evening I am just working, doing my usual stuff and a WhatsApp msg comes. It reads "Abbu no more". Well at first I don't know if it was my self-defence mechanism or my poor shock absorber, I thought (actually more than that hoped) that it was a joke and the rest of it was on its way. But it didn't take more than 3 seconds for me to realise which retard in the world cracks a joke like that? And the next 3 seconds I am trying to convince myself that it is a typo or some sort of error. In the next 3 seconds the three words on my screen start to mean something. They meant Abbu won't be  around anymore and that this change is sort of irreversible (well I am a Christian, give me the liberty of another possibility).
So, I just came to know that the person who I knew, talked to and wished lived forever, just forgot to breathe?

By now I have like a zillion questions popping up in my mind. What happened? where was he? But then I realise how does it matter anymore. All these questions were supposed to be asked before.
We knew that he was keeping unwell for a few days. But he was being treated for his ailment. And when you are treated you are 'expected' to be better, right? Isn't it the least you can expect when the doctors are on their job? So you see I am new to this concept of death. So does it happen just like that? No farewells no goodbyes. You just happen to breathe your last one day?

Till now I had this habit of alienating myself from such tragedies so as to hide my incompetency to console a dear one. 

But this time around there it just hit me where I least expected it. My worst fears had come face to face with me. Abbu as I used to call him was a father-figure to me. We didn't have a lot of communication but it was just knowing that he was 'there'  made me feel comfortable. Some relationships don't require seeing or talking or even spending time. Their existence and strength is independent of any external force.

You sub-consciously start idolising that person. The person may not be the chief driving factor but the existence or the value that he or she holds in your life sub-consciously influences your life in more ways than one.

How does one face a death of a near one? Is there a school to train you for that? No? So the worst lessons of life have to be learnt by yourself that too when you are already in the hot seat? So then what are schools for?

I admired Abbu like no other. I had spoken to him on a few occasions and met him only in his last years. Yet I remember everything he said or meant. Few people are so composed as he was. In some parts of India they say that you shouldn't smell the flowers offered to someone. I feel its because the smell of the flower is exclusively for the person to be honoured which is why the folklore. Abbu's very distinct yet very few memories with me are like that smell and I just want to keep preserve them with me and keep them discreet.

I have known Abbu through his son. Even though he never realised or admitted, the son is a real image of his father. The relationship between a father and a son is very strange or at least it appears so to the daughters or the sisters. On an average month the number of words spoken between the two can be counted on fingertips. But one must not be deceived by such a behaviour.

When I spoke to Abbu's son after the news, I was not able to keep myself together and broke down, not because I felt sorry for him but because I had lost someone as close as him for the first time. Suiting the sons' reputation he appeared tough. He went on to say that he had an inkling and that medical conditions had hinted the unforeseen. But I was not convinced. I still believe that he was being treated and he was supposed to only get better.

Days passed and I rarely could see a drop of tear in his son's eyes. One would say it wasn't too difficult for him to come to terms with what had happened. Only to be proven wrong later.

Weeks later he told how he missed Abbu.
There was no one who messaged him late at night to point which was his most beautiful picture. He missed calls reminding to put money in the account every 1st of the month. He realised that Abbu had more fans than he thought. He had seen them bombard the entire street for his funeral. A tear still didn't drop. He may have broken down in solitude. But it was the news was equally shocking for him as for his sisters.

After all he like the rest of us expected him to get better and there is still not a super formula devised to cope up with demise. You live with it each day. The relationship never dies, it just matures.

We Shall Overcome!!

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I still remember...

Some people are just over the top. I wonder how they remember each minute detail of what happened decades ago. I really appreciate their ability which I obviously don't have.

I do not say that I am Amir Khan of Gajini but I am definitely not one of those I-still-remember-in-my-childhood kind. In fact, I can't even narrate the story of the movie I just saw with such detail. I guess I have inherited this memory loss from my dad. Well, kind of. Everyday he forgets to get either his cellphone, keys, spectacles or bag before stepping out of the house.

As you would have guessed by now, I passed high school with great difficulty. So I was one of those students who start studying a week before exam. Not that I didn't study earlier, but with my memory problem I could recall very less and so the probability of me clearing the test depended a lot on the last minute revision. :)

Every dark cloud has a silver lining. I must say, because of my inability of retaining long time memory, I have forgotten several unhappy moments in my life. This is reason why "moving on" in life has come quite easily to me.

Though there is a green eyed monster in me for those who have sharp memory, I am glad that I can live each day as it comes!!

Rock on !!

This is an awesome movie . I mean Bollywood has started creating more mature stuff. Kudos to Farhan Akthar. He has the potential. We are expecting more from you in the Future. Arjun Rampal looks amazing in his long Hair locks. His performance is even better. Purab Kohli is too good . Rob alias Luke Kenny is surprisingly good . Nothing unsaid about Prachi desai and Debbie.
They are at their best. Three cheers to the rock on team !! Keep up guys and Gals.