Sunday, April 12, 2009

In the name of God!

On Thursday night, I had a 'Jaago India Jaago' moment. And yes, before that, I should confess I have temper problems. And in that given moment, I can speak exactly what I want to speak. Yes it is a talent, thank you.

So I had as usual gone with my parents to the Sai Baba temple, our official Thursday visit to Sai Baba. And after the arti, I carefully edged my way with Ma for the deeya. The people, who had very peacefully been clapping and singing the hymns since the past half an hour, suddenly had a train to catch. They leapt towards the deeya all together, and I rued the fact that I had moved quite a bit ahead with a very frail Ma beside me. Now I couldn’t back out and I was scared that she would get hurt by the hurtling bodies in front of us and also those pouncing from the back. Had these guys been praying for brute strength to Sai Baba, I wondered…

Eventually, we joined the line for Prasad, and again, covering the ground around Ma was important. And just as luck would have it, people insisted on passing from between me and her. I let a few go and then decided it was enough. An insignificant 50 year old woman and her entire family tried to edge around me and pass from the between, saying, "Zara dekhe to..Zara jaane do ek minute.." And I told her it wasn't a bridge and infact the line was so small, she could just go behind to reach the other side. Breaking it from between was not that essential. And to my surprise, instead of being guilty of doing that, out of the entire family, it was just that woman who turned, ready for a typical Delhi aunty fight.

"What do you think? You young girl can tell me what to do? Mannerless generation of kids! Badtameez hai, mujhe sikhaogi…" I was surprised at how spiritually developed she was. I kept showing her a hand to lower her volume but when she realized I wasn't up for a shrieking quarrel, she pitched her volume a few decibels more!

That's when I lost it. I said a mental 'sorry' to Baba and began, "You fifty something woman, I don't need to learn tameez from such a badtameez oldie. And my mother has had an operation, hence I asked you not to push around. Do you understand that or are you too dumb to understand what a temple stands for? So much for your bhakti!"

Her husband was approaching me with a very menacing look, but froze mid way when I started speaking. He came and ended up saying, "Beta beta, ab rehne do…"

The people in the temple by now had made the woman go outside (who went on doing kai kai kai..) and had come to me and requested me to be quiet. The panditji came and smiled and said, "Beta, aap toh samajhte ho..Aap shant ho jao." And I immediately became quiet.

This is what happens when you ask an average person in India to follow some basic unsaid rules, that too in a temple. An auntyish woman, who sang bhakti ke gaane with such dedication, cannot follow some basic humanitarian rules. And then they call themselves spiritual, all in the name of God. The same God, whose curtains were now closed, as he was put to sleep by our Goodnight prayers. This lady didn't even blink an eye before shrieking like crazy inside the temple. Where was her God now? Or had she forgotten what she was here for? The bigger purpose? All lost in the triviality of breaking a line…

I have no shame in saying I don't respect such elders, for their age or for anything you might say. We, as the next generation kids are way better than these stubborn mules who flaunt something they dont have. We are atleast real and honest. And probably more spiritually developed. Atleast I am.

India can never progress if the Indians cant maintain common etiquettes, and I mean everywhere, not just in temples.. If Indians cant give two minutes to keep a line or respect a weak human being amongst them, then India simply cant..

And that angers me…

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Just looking

Just looking

there's things i want
there's things i think i want
there's things i've had
there's things i wanna have

do i want the dreams
the ones we're forced to see
do i want the perfect wife
the word perfect ain't quite right

shopping every day
take it back the next break
they say the more you fly
the more you
risk your life

i'm just looking i'm not buying
i'm just looking keeps me smiling

a house i seen, another coulda' been
you drenched my head and said what i said
you said that life is what you make of it
yet most of us just fake

i'm just looking, i'm not buying
i'm just looking, keeps me smiling

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Swirling in a pool of CRAP!

I never ever wished life to be a fairytale. I certainly dint wish for it to be a nightmare too. A ‘liveable’ life would have been just fine.

I have been missing from the blog scene for a while now, blame it on my fairytale:p.
Work’s been keeping me on my toes (literally). While the initial one month of my training occupied most of my time avoiding strange, wicked, stupid people, the following month was a breath of fresh air. With my improved ‘sucking-up’ skills and hard work (no seriously I did work hard… not hardly: p) I was shifted to a team I preferred. I represented my company and clients at the fashion week along with 2 other female colleagues, looked my best (still felt underdressed once at the venue), admired models backstage, ogled at a few male models, exclaimed on seeing Sari-Man (man with a draped sari on his tee accompanied with a nose ring) and felt irritated on seeing him hog all the media attention.
On my second day at the fashion week, I needed the need to be ‘known’ and so I urged Nandini to drop in after college. Seeing Nandini (looking suave as ever) get off the auto, I felt a pang of relief, I knew could finally perform the ‘baby this is my place’ act; air kiss, engage myself in some ‘serious discussion’ laugh, giggle and comfortably look preoccupied.
Once the fashion fiesta was over, it was time to welcome Mr long-distance. He was convincingly smitten by the new me (weight loss + birthday clothes + pleasing hairstyle= new me). Four days with him were pure bliss; it was the therapy I desperately required.

Apart from staying clear of bickering at work place, hoping each day for life to change for good, day dreaming, just dreaming, sulking, whining, laughing at times and dressing up for lousy clubs, there’s nothing quite interesting going on. Nandini and Mrinalini are a balancing factor in my and Anjali’s life.

I often wonder – When Happiness and luck were being distributed, were I and Anjali busy eating?

PS: Ever heard anyone writing their obituary as a part of an interview test?
Stay hooked- Anjali shall elaborate: D

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