First Times

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"When was the last time you did something for the first time?" This is one phrase my husband overuses. On our first date, our wedding day, upon writing the first love note, during our trips together, our cooking adventures, a game of scrabble or any random moment he surprises me with this question. I suggest you ask yourself this question and reflect for a moment.

Do you love trying out new things? Do you make an effort or do you succumb to the usual excuse about not having enough time? Are you stuck in a rut and wish for something "different" or "crazy" to happen? Of course most of us have hobbies to keep our creative sides active or go on holidays to unwind and relax but for many others these interests take a backseat due to various reasons.

I like trying out new things. I am totally in love with the idea of learning (one of the reasons why I enjoy teaching). I remember that even as a child, I was constantly on the lookout for new ideas, new games, new hobbies, new hideouts and "new" mischief! Trust me, doing something for the first time brings a feeling of freshness and joy of accomplishment no matter how silly a thing it seems. Who knows, you may discover something new about yourself - a talent an interest or even a quirk.

After the A to Z challenge, I desperately wanted to do something different. Unable to come up with anything interesting, I opened my cupboard and sifted through a cluttered pile of random things (stationery, greeting cards, dried flowers, paint and so on). When I chanced upon an abandoned drawing book, I almost shouted "Eureka!" 

What started off as a few overlapping free hand circles ended up like this:

And led to this:

I was hooked and so deeply lost in the drawing that my mom had to remind me of lunch time. It was a soothing experience that left me happy and proud. I definitely will do more of this when I get bored. But right now I'm on the lookout for new things to try :)

When was the last time you did something for the first time? Think of it and do leave a comment or even better, do something new today and then tell me!


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Wonderful

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The lights went out. Rachel waited quietly in her bed for half an hour. She tiptoed to the window of her room, the last on the B Wing corridor of the women’s hostel. Outside, she could see the silhouettes of the chapel and the administrative block. Black trees stood still against the deep purple sky. “Seven months and three days” she murmured to herself.

For seven months and three days her life had moved ahead like clockwork. She had a fixed routine that had to be diligently adhered to. Worse, there were many restrictions in place. The food in the mess was lousy and the gates closed by seven in the evening. The lights went out at ten at night and she had to be in bed, no matter what.

The sudden confinement at the convent after her carefree school days suffocated her. She longed to go out on her own and do things she liked. Things that her time-table at the hostel had left out. She did not want to do anything crazy or dangerous, just something that would make her feel good again. Something outside her monotonous schedule.

She moved away from the window and walked stealthily along the corridor. Climbing the stairs to the terrace in her night clothes and flip flops, her hands gripping a package wrapped in newspaper, she felt accomplished in a strange way. Laying out the contents of the package she smiled her best smile. She had invited a few of her friends, but they had been too scared.

“Happy birthday to me!” she sang alone into the night. She wasn't sure if it was the wine or the momentary freedom, but she felt wonderful as she lay under the starry sky.

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Outdated

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“Mama, it’s so simple. Why do you create a fuss about nothing?” my daughter was exasperated. She left for work after her daily reminder “The green button to pick a call and the red one to disconnect.” I nodded, shut the door and looked around. Next to every electronic device gleamed a yellow “Post-it” with operating instructions.

I sighed, feeling confused and outdated in this huge city half way around the earth. It felt as if the whole world had moved on to climb the technological ladder leaving me behind. Everything was done by machines. The grandchildren played on the computer, least interested in going out in the open for a game of bat and ball. They entertained themselves conquering kingdoms, slaying demons and crushing candy. The books I had carried for them all the way from India lay untouched. They said they had a library in their laptop. I still haven’t believed it. 

A feeling of helplessness enveloped me. I wanted nothing to do with these new ways. I felt out of place, like an extinct reptile. But the words of my granddaughter came with a glimmer of hope.

“Tell me a story Nani.” she had said. I couldn't help smiling. People still enjoy stories! I sat her on my lap and told her stories from my life. She was fascinated by them, the tales of a granny dinosaur.



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The Last Wish

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As my life slowly slips away

I wish I had one more day

to make you listen with your heart

though it sure is a very late start.

I have nothing left but a few beats

of a tender heart that painfully bleeds

and a thousand thoughts never shared

for you were busy and not once cared.

The rare moments you were all ears

I poured out my heart and fears;

you thought they were silly, absurd

and didn't utter a single word.

I shared my life all these years

with one who just heard with ears,

did you listen my love, with your heart

to my last few words, as we part?

Participating in the Ultimate Blog Challenge

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My blues

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I painfully shed a tear or two

at our relationship wrapped in blue;

the growing silence between us

was ignored for long, without fuss.

Together yet alone, married yet loveless;

I sought the cause of this strange mess.

Was it greying hair or boredom?

Could it be the suffocating lack of freedom?

At the candle lit dinner we hardly spoke

As if over our food we would choke.

Did he have a secret love out of wedlock,

he who had always stood by me, my rock?

Convinced and curious I became a spy,

scanned his words for traces of a lie,

I got my answers that very night

when my face reflected an eerie blue light.

Yes that very blue, the light from my phone

in whose company my face always shone,

was the  culprit, the source of my blues

shadowing away my life’s many hues.



This post was written as part of the Ultimate blog challenge

Bored? That’s great!

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I often come across people who seem to be eternally stuck to the assorted gadgets in their prized possession. It really amuses me, how they apportion their time between laptops, tablets, smart phones and so many other gizmos. I fear that a lame joke that someone cracked may actually be true- that we live in an age where phones are getting smarter and people, idiotic.

Why is it that a few seconds of doing nothing makes us feel work-less, worthless and less important than people with ears plugged and fingers in perpetual swiping motion? Even a few minutes of boredom has become so intolerable in this age of the fast and furious where even food has to be “fast”. Next time you are in a public space, just look around you and you will find people torturing themselves by over-stimulating their senses. It’s true. They just don’t realize it. If a shopping mall has free Wi-Fi, even lovers would prefer texting each other while holding hands! That’s the rule. Free Wi-Fi HAS to be used.

Children seem to be as busy as professionals. Wake up, go for sports practice, go to school, come back, quickly snack, go for tuitions, come back and do homework, play, study, watch T.V/browse the internet/play video games, have dinner, sleep. On weekends, add a music/dance/swimming/karate class to the above list. I dread that day when parents may have to take an appointment with their child (after rescheduling theirs) to just hold hands and take a stroll in the park together.

I can’t help thinking about my childhood days when there was so much time at hand that boredom was something that I encountered every day. Being the only child of my parents didn't make matters very easy. I was always faced with the challenge of entertaining myself and coming up with new things to do. Since I was spared of the idiot box (Doordarshan was more depressing than boredom) and the smartest of gadgets, I found myself painting, writing, making my own songs(parodies), making use of waste materials in the house to create new things, cooking up new games and stories and finding my own methods of engaging myself in a productive activity. Things that I made and did, though far from perfect, were at least original and left me satisfied and proud.

 I can’t suppress my laughter when I think of the seriousness with which I hosted imaginary cookery shows, conducted parent teacher meetings, taught maths and English to teddy bears, dolls and sometimes even my mother. My cousins and I even scripted and enacted plays on our cot that served as our stage shrouded by my mother’s sari. I kept a secret diary, had imaginary friends, made my own code language, conducted tuition classes (yes, I earned my pocket money) for kids younger than me and did so many other interesting things on my own. I even made my own brick house (without cement) with a thatched roof in our terrace. You can imagine how bored I would have been to carry nearly hundred bricks up the stairs and make a house!

There have been other times when I just gazed out of the window, looking at the sunset or people on the road, trying to guess their stories or reflect on mine. Even as an adult, I enjoy the bout of creativity that is born after a period of boredom. Though my husband has to bear the brunt of my frustration while I am bored, the outcome is quite rewarding, really. A painting, a handmade card, a new dish, a heartfelt handwritten letter, a new hobby- the outcomes are sometimes unpredictable. Even this blog wouldn't have materialised had I succumbed to the charms of my phone and laptop that promise to entertain me faithfully 24×7.

Of course, I have nothing against technology. I too depend on it every day. I hold no grudge against children who learn different things either. The point is to stop ourselves from being enslaved by them to such an extent that without them we feel empty. Boredom is not such a bad thing. Once while I was taking class about the human digestive system, the students and I got so bored of the lesson (yes teachers get bored too!) that we decided to have some fun. I asked the students to imagine themselves as a piece of bread or dosa or whatever and write about their experience. The answers were so enthusiastically written with a good dose of humour that left us in peals of laughter. A Biology lesson was effectively turned into a creative writing session thanks to boredom.

Empty spaces can be filled with something new, but not a space that is already crammed.  Once in a while let’s take our eyes and hands away from our gadgets find some time and clear the canvas of our minds and fill it with new colours and patterns. The result will surely amaze you. So, cheers to boredom!!

The Heroine

There was an ocean of people pushing, pulling and jostling eagerly waiting to catch at least a glimpse of their favourite star. Cameras, mobile phones and eyes watched athirst with bated breath. Journalists were ready to take notes, critics to shoot questions, policemen positioned to take action at the slightest sign of trouble. She was on her way and would arrive soon. The crowd was ready to wait an eternity for that blessed moment of sensory treat.

Maya was a recent addition to the film industry but her magical looks, effortless acting and impeccable style had already transformed her to a demigoddess. Youthful romeos dreamt about her day and night, the middle aged drooled over her pictures that seemed to be omnipresent (someone had even pasted her poster inside a public toilet) and the older men remorsefully remembering their prime as they thought of her.

The wait was over. Their goddess had landed from heaven among their midst. Each look of hers, the turn of her neck, her graceful gait, everything about her was lapped up like a sponge and relished like nectar by her fans. She walked over to the stage, escorted by her assistants and took a seat among the other guests. The press conference pertaining to her upcoming release was about to begin.

She patiently answered all the questions with honesty, stopping once in a while to sip some ice cold water. She felt comfortable to be amidst people who showered her with love and admiration. She could see people arguing with the guards, trying desperately to gain entry into the hall. Cameras clicked, slurping up every bit of her. She felt important. She was on top of the world. This was what she had dreamt of all her life and now she was living her charismatic dream.

Somewhere far away a whistle blew. Perhaps some fans were trying in vain to catch sight of her. No cause for worry. Then a second whistle by a policeman. Would the crowd go crazy as they sometimes did when they saw their superstar? The third one was really loud and with it the smell of overcooked lentils wafted into her nostrils. The crowd, the admirers, the press, the policemen, the banners, bouquets and cameras vanished into thin air. She was greeted by spices and vegetables, greasy utensils and a bucketful of smelly clothes.

The happiness bubble

Her excitement was overwhelming. She beamed and grinned as she stood in front of the huge shiny mirror in her bedroom. She scrutinized herself again and again. She couldn’t afford to make the slightest mistake. She tried various kinds of smiles and finally settled for the one that was restricted to the outline of her scarlet red lips. A smile that was never destined to reach her eyes. Quickly, she marked her mental checklist- the stylish hairdo, with a few careless strands that framed her face, the flawless make-up that hid the shadows around her eyes and the horrible freckles and blemishes, her smooth and supple skin that was newly waxed, the tastefully chosen diamond jewellery that was custom made to look just like the one a woman flaunted at a party few days ago, her designer sari that was sure to steal the show and the stilettoes that cost a bomb but elevated her to “a higher level”. Perfect.

Pleased with her efforts, she dabbed some perfume and nodded at her husband. He noticed the grief and loneliness in her eyes that the make-up couldn’t hide but chose against speaking about it. He got the car keys and prepared to lock the door. She almost forgot her precious Louis Vuitton! She cursed herself for her negligence, grabbed it from the closet and got into the car.

They drove in silence as usual. They had nothing to say to each other. For the past twenty years, their relationship had been engulfed by a strange kind of silence. Convenient, because there were no loud fights that turned eyes in their direction, because they were free to weave their dreams and desires into a cocoon around them and nest peacefully in its warmth. She adorned herself with an aura of confidence that sometimes dangerously lurked near arrogance  to hide her insecurities; while he thought of the jokes he would crack at the party to mask his desperation and emptiness. She thought she was happy. She mentally rehearsed her carefully chosen response to all the compliments she would be showered with.

They arrived at the venue that was tastefully decorated with the finest fragrant flowers and soothing lights. There was colour, music, food, chatter, whispers, laughter and clinking of glasses everywhere. She felt glad as people stole glances at her. Some with envy and some with admiration. Her happiness knew no bounds as people admired her attire, jewellery, bag and almost everything about her. So what if her husband did not notice her, so what if they were strangers sharing a bed? She was admired by so many people here at the party. Everyone loved her diamonds. They were jealous of the LV she clutched. She forgot her grief and erased the loneliness that had stealthily crept into her life. She was the star of the show tonight. She was haloed by an endless bubble of happiness.

Suddenly, everyone’s attention was drawn to the black Mercedes that pulled up at the parking lot. Out came a young lady who wore bigger diamonds and a more expensive dress. Everyone was breath taken by her beauty and style. The endless bubble of happiness popped with a bang. But of course, there was another party coming up.

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