Wednesday, July 27, 2011

on change. .

Change. . .is inevitable. nothing can change that, it is really something isn't it.

If I were to count to the different ways in which my life has changed in the past year alone, I would get lost in the vast topography of it, because the little changes have all been myriad and many hued.

all good, nonetheless.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

So cards have been printed!. . .atleast the traditional ones, yes the ones that are entirely in Tamil and the ones that I cannot read , but the ones that affirm that yes inch by inch I am getting closer to the wedding !


The reception cards shall get printed sometime in September when I shall be at hand in Delhi to fuss over the envelope colors and font sizes, atleast I'll be able to read those.


For now, I shall go to Delhi, take the card, find The Lawyer, settle down in a corner with a cup of coffee and have him read it to me/explain it to me. . .then he'll need that coffee more than me I'm pretty sure :)


p.s. Haven't gymmed for 3 days, looking for a new excuse to bunk it today too. . . alas the guilt *might* just take over.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Moving base . . .again. .

So I am moving base, returning home. . to Delhi I mean, its rather strange that even as I type the word home, the only image that flashes in my mind is the place where I live at the moment, sharing my room with 3 girls, for the past year. I lived in Delhi for 21 years before this and for all practical purposes that was home, and I loved Delhi with all my heart, I still do. . . but Bangalore, That PG, those roomates, they gave me a real sense of self, a realization of the person I am. All that I am capable of, and all that I can survive on. Bangalore gave me an education, it was more than an experience, now that I return to Delhi, in 2 weeks that is, I am in the know, a deep sense of security rests within, a security that comes not from the thought of marriage, or family or a home. . but a secure feeling that I created for myself, my own coocoon.

So yes this past year was the year of crying myself to sleep a few nights with severe bouts of homesickness, waking up regardless and going to work, looking forward to weekends like ur life depended on it, hating a roomates quirks and admiring some others, waiting for ur turn to take a bath and washing ur own clothes, cooking dinners on sunday nights, making sure maggi was a food group, having cornflakes and chocos as dessert, cursing the PG owners on any power cut/water shortage, bunking the gym for what was really important - the roomie's heartache, being ridiculed for not drinking in a room full of vodka-downers (and still holding ur own), of living on weekend to weekend Sales and of random hugs. . .

It was also the year I lived my life, free of anyone else, being my own person, answerable foremost to myself. I can have lunch alone now, watch a movie alone, have a conversation with myself and value my own opinion. I grew Up.

I'll miss Bangalore, but new things await in Delhi, that I'm hoping will bring as much happiness as Bangalore.




p.s.- People asking me if "I'm going to quit my job" or wether my husband is "going to let me work", annoys me to no end. My parents spent a respectable sum in educating me, in putting me through school first and then college they must have neglected more than a couple of their own whims and fancies, then is it not, to say the least, stupid, to think that they'd chose to marry me "off" to someone who would want to me to stay home and waste that education ?




And when you marry someone, yes you decide to share your life with this person and value his opinion; but to work, to earn is your decision, He can give his two bits on it, but in the end it is your call. . .at what point does it stop being your life?




Imagine this, if I woke up one fine morning and "decided" that I do not want him to work, that would be absurd I am sure, then in the same vein, is it not absurd if someone decides today onwards I shouldn't work ? Its not so much a question of competition, or self respect even, but of plain logic.




If we are still in the age where an arranged marriage compels you to hand over your life to a set of people and have them make your decisions, then someone should've warned me earlier, I would have gladly taken up home science as a major and not wasted my 4 years earning an engineering degree. Atleast then I would be adept in sowing buttons.




So please, I understand your concerns, but dont mock my intelligence, nor that of my parents or future husband's, with your worries. I will work after I get married, and My husband more than me won't have it any other way.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

The unknown errors of our lives

The hustle and bustle you associate with a wedding was in place, it was utter chaos, I sat there with my mehendi drying off, friends were reminiscing about forgotten school days, aunts were fretting over tiny details, kids ran unabashed, the house which I was to leave in a couple of hours, already looked a little far away and alien, with its rows of lights and decorations.


I was halfway between a guffaw when Ma spotted me from across the room, She caught my eye and held it. She came over to me and looked deeply at me, and said, "My darling for you, I wish all the happiness. I wish. . . ." when someone took her away. I first assumed she was just overcome with emotion, after all she was parting with her daughter, the tiny baby she held in her arms, seemingly not too long ago, was leaving to live someone else's life. But it was the expression on her face that made me take notice, I wanted to go to her and ask her to finish, I wanted to know what that incomplete sentiment in her eyes was. But soon she disappeared and I too got carried away.


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I finished getting dressed, the mirror shows me a woman who can't keep the smile off her face, the various bits of diamonds are smiling with me, honestly I can't wait. They say in excited vices that they just saw the groom, that he's oh-so-handsome. . .I wink at one of them, i know it means.

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With three tiny knots we're married, tied to each other for life. They put toe rings on me and we walked around the fire, in seven steps I went from being someone's little girl to being someone's wife, to someone's house. No. My house.


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I said my goodbye's. Some people cried, some offered advice, some joked good naturedly, I got into the car and felt a tinge of sadness and some premature homesickness.


I peered out the window and saw Ma, she was talking to someone, she looked happy, She had worn a Yellow saree, It looked lovely on her, as the color always did. Ma had a penchant for yellow sarees, she had countless ones not very different from this one, the colour was her, bubbly and vibrant. Today as I saw her in it, some old memory of her in a similar saree came back to me, strangely so.


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I had been 5 or 6, Ma stood in front of the mirror, put on a red bindi and her eyes glinted, she looked radiant, I was in awe. She was happy we were going out, She was a beautiful woman, I thought then too.


Then Dad walked in, he was angry about something, she followed him into the room and there was some yelling, but I couldn't make out the words. Then I heard the sound of something being thrown, it was the TV remote. I felt scared. The commotion died down, and Ma walked out of the room. Her eyes, so happy a while ago, welling up with tears,She would have taken the moment to let it out i think, had she not seen me standing there. She carefully wiped the corner of her eyes , and bend down to fix my pig tails. She smiled her smile at me and took me by the had. We waited for dad and went to the party. She smiling her smile, being charming all evening, no one could ever tell otherwise. Not even her.


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The look in her eyes today, the same smile, her waving hand as the car sped off, as I turned to sit comfortably, not being able to see her anymore, tears welled up in my eyes, I knew what Ma wished for me.


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Thursday, July 7, 2011

to the husband (to be . . .)

Better than a thousand hollow words, is one word that brings peace.

I am the eternal nag, I constantly berate the Lawyer for not saying things, not being as vocal as I am and so on, for it all, I sometimes get a patient hearing and a calm explanation, at other times I hear a "hmm" which drives me a little mad.

But then, once in a while, He says something with such sincerity, that it knocks it me off my feet. Today, it was a message, a long one, and knowing that he thinks any kind of messaging is an effort, I checked twice to make sure it was him.

Having not spoken much last night, This morning as I was starting my day work, his message came.

As I sat there re-reading that message, a feeling of awe passed over me . . . then it gave way to a contentment, the kind I feel in his arms. and then an unabashed feeling of security.

"Thankyou my Darling, I want to wake up every morning to you, for life. . .saying I Love You doesnt seem enough"