Beyond Spaghetti Tops, Sling bags and Dangles

When you are feeling low or depressed, what do you do?

Stick to that slim screen? Or browse through the idiot box? Check out WhatsApp statuses? Hide under your pillow and blanket? Lock yourself up in the washroom? Make a frantic call to a friend? Scroll through your timeline? That would be lethal, I tell you.

As much as our lives have become concentrated within the slim screens of the multiple gadgets we own, our minds too are becoming closed and haunted. Secularism, capitalism, feminism, patriotism, socialism, combined with debates on tolerance-intolerance, national and anti-national, this and that, him and her. You will not know how and when you get sucked within this whirlpool of power and politics. Only to realize that you have none.

Put that tiny bugger on silent and board a metro train with a one-way ticket. Best being the women’s compartment in the Delhi Metro. Observe people. Concentrate. Listen to the little sounds that join together to create that annoying noisy atmosphere. Phones beeping, pinging and ringing continuously. Turn this way or that way, hands-frees and selfies take prominence. Whispers, normal conversations and some screaming at the top of their voices. Romance, saas-bahu, breakups and make-ups, group study, fraandship calls, crush-waala discussions, bunk-waala plans. The mediators. The breaking news agents who have taken the oath to not let even a single soul unaware of the secret. The counsellors, the recipe books and the know-it-all’s. Cacophony all along.

And then the bags. The shiny shimmering ones to the badly torn ones. Gucci, to Vero Moda, to Saada Sarojini da Maal. Janpath ka sling bags to Shani bazaar waale shoulder bags. Red, Green, Purple, Mauve, Pinkish Purple, Orangish Yellow, Greenish brown, Bluish Green and the bland black or maroon ones like the ones yours truly carries around. Even the cream-coloured slightly torn ones sponsored by Rajat Basmati Chawal or Mugli Ghutti Paanch Sau Pachpan or Patanjali Aata Noodles or Nevla Chhap. If you are lucky to have boarded the train just before a long weekend, you would be privileged to witness a wrestling bout between a VIP and an American Tourister or a Samsonite and a Delsey. And the fancy backpacks with tiny colourful key chains hanging from every zip lock makes you miss your army green pittoo waala bag that you dragged from standard seventh till standard twelfth. This, irrespective of the years repeated in every class. Not to forget the good old aluminium briefcase that you took to Raju Monty Public School in Tilak Nagar with a slate and chalks inside.

Just when you try and escape an eye that caught you staring for long, you’ll again get distracted by the hanging earrings. Studs to dew drops, jhumkis to chandeliers, hoops to plugs, peacocks to owls, saddles to quills. Each one is absolutely marvellous. And each one a gem in itself. Not to miss the single anklets and the bracelets or bangles. Choose any colour on the palette and you’ll get it right here. No racial discrimination!

But what amuses most is the fragrance that emanates from the amalgamation of Lancome, Dior, Calvin Klein, Burberry, Versace, mixed with Yardley, Ponds Dreamflower, Nycil and Shower to Shower and a perfect pinch of sweat. And if you’re really lucky, you’ll find a fusion concoction of Nihar Shanti Amla, Neeli Bringadi, Bakson’s Herbal Hair Oil, Khadi Henna and Rosemary and Himani Naratna Thanda Cool. As it gets into your system, slowly but surely, climbing up the stairs to choke your nose all the way up to your brain cells, you cannot help but say a prayer for yourself.

Some faces are covered by a USMLE or a TOEFL or Complete Reference on Java. Some others hidden behind a Nicholas Sparks or a Haruki Murakami or a Jhumpa Lahiri or a Durjoy Datta. A few have booklets open. A Hanuman Chalisa or the Complete Word of God. A few don’t mind showing off an Economic Times or the Hindu, even if they are holding it upside down. Grihshobha, and Meri Saheli outdo Femina and Glamour any day.

And then the clothing. Georgette, polyester, silk, cotton, nylon, rayon or jute. You name it and you find it. Sarees or suits. Kurtas or Kurtis. Off-shoulders or halter necks. Knee-length or stiletto kurtas. Spaghetti-straps or strapless. Bells or bishops. And the veils. We are pretty accommodative!

This is not what they are.

If you look deeply, if you try to look beyond the superficial skin, you’ll find an individual. A single woman who is craving for a companion to share her everyday stories. A mother who is thinking of saving up for a bright future for her children. A sister who has fought with her brother to be allowed to attend college. A senior citizen who is struggling with sarkari babus for her pension proceedings. An ailing wife who wants to help her loving husband and children by wishing for an early death. A divorced parent waiting for the next hearing for the custody of her child. A super-cop in civilian clothes or an undercover agent. A grandma chanting Hanuman Chalisa or Durga Chalisa to ward off all evils from her family’s miserable life. A legal assistant who is going to fight her first ever case. A student who is worried how her parents will react to her below average marks in a certain subject because of change in pattern. Underneath the veil or the dupatta may be a young girl forced to marry against her wishes.

And this goes the same for all, irrespective of gender, socio-economic status or religion.

Each one is fighting a battle. Each one is looking for acceptance. Each one wants to love and be loved. Be kind. Be empathetic. Be compassionate. Do not let other person’s bitterness steal your sweetness. Agree to disagree firmly but graciously because not every fight is worth fighting. Life is not always about winning.

And by the end of this journey if you are still not feeling good about yourself, take a return ticket please!

This post was first published at World of Moms.

 

#MondayMusings – The Last Bite

Wastage of any kind hurts me. I am really paranoid about any kind of wastage. May be because I was taught about the importance of not wasting at a very young age. May be because Dad’s childhood stories stayed deep within. May be because Mom’s convent rules stayed with us. May be because our parents did share their troubles, financial or otherwise, when we were kids and instilled the importance of not wasting, sharing and saving.

This morning, I served vegetable cheese pasta to the girls and went to take a bath. After offering my prayers, I went inside the kitchen to find this.

While I was raging from within about the food being wasted, I was also glad to see that she chose to inform me and apologize instead of throwing it away like her elder sis.

The first-born is so scared of getting yelled at that she commits silly mistakes like these which in turn make her get scolded further. I keep telling her to be bold enough to accept her mistakes instead of hiding them. But she doesn’t seem to understand it. Or may be she still fears this cold-blooded Mommy. And here’s the second-born who chooses to inform and apologize. When I scolded her later and started off with how there are millions of children who stay hungry because they can’t get food or their parents cannot afford it, she said, “I know I made a mistake. That’s why I have apologized.” And then she said something that’s made me wonder if it was indeed my fault. She said, “When you know I don’t eat those vegetables, why did you make them? And if you made it, why did you serve it to me? Will you be happy if I gobble all of it and then throw it up? Don’t you think I am wasting because of your mistake?“And I was reminded of how out of fear of getting punished by Dad I used to gobble up food as a child only to throw it up later almost every evening.

And then I read this article, 10 WAYS TO GET KIDS TO WASTE LESS FOOD. I’m guilty as charged by my girl. I served a larger portion because I was worried that she slept late last night and might be hungrier. I am guilty because I don’t allow them to serve themselves. The kids are very well aware of why wasting is a sin. We take them out to so many places, including orphanages and they know about the under-privileged kids too. They do believe in sharing and all. And they do behave responsibly otherwise. So, it is indeed my mistake. Isn’t it?

Does your child waste food often? How do you tackle this? How do you make them finish that last bite?

Related articles:

• Thrift and Thrive – Let’s Not Waste

• Best Out of Waste: The Habit of Thrift

Two Up – Surviving Sibling Squabbles

Toddlers are a menace.

You don’t agree?

You must not be a parent yet. As much as it is fun to have children, it is the most annoying thing to have to deal with their fights.

Having a child is the best thing that can happen to you. That’s what most parents, especially elders, say. And some blind followers like me take it so seriously that we opt for having two.  Of course, social pressures like‘he/she needs a sibling to share their happiness and grief when they are older’, add in. I tell you it’s all a myth. A huge price to pay for something you can never be sure of.

Our siblings are our first ever competition. And the fiercest because we compete for the love and attention of the same people. The ones that we need most, our parents. The battle begins exactly from the moment Mommy’s tummy starts bulging out into a watermelon. The problem is that the issue is considered as a growing-up phenomenon and is left unaddressed.

Read the entire post here at World of Moms.