Zestful

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Rohan carried the tray with crispy, buttery masala dosas and filter coffee to the table where Tara sat waiting. “I can’t believe we are catching up on our lives after almost a decade!” He found it strange that he felt immensely happy to bump into his long lost friend who had meant the world to him not too long ago. He felt a pang of guilt for letting their friendship fade with time.

They talked animatedly stopping in between only to savour the delicious dosas and piping hot coffee. Tara reminded him of those days when they had been extremely eager to do many things in life. “Do you remember the promise we made by the lake?” When he seemed puzzled, she reminded him.

“We had vowed never to lose the zest to live. We had promised to keep in touch with our silliest of wishes and passions and to never get bogged down by hurdles. You remember?” Tara was bubbling with an excitement and energy level that he felt he couldn't catch up with. He learned that she had followed her heart living all her dreams, taking up challenges with a smile, never belittling her resilience.

He felt tired to chase those dreams now. He felt old. Having settled for a comfortable desk job he had seen everything else in life as a burden. He had always chosen the easier route and compromised on his dreams. Every situation had been just a problem to be solved.

But now in a little coffee shop talking to her, he wondered if he had lived or just existed. Tara, the bubbly teen who he had once loved secretly, who he had rejected for fear of her optimism that he thought was blinding, had just made him fall in love again. With her, with life and with himself.

P.S: Today I have successfully completed the Ultimate Blog Challenge and A to Z challenge. It has been one hell of a journey with crazy moments, a true roller coaster. More than the destination, I enjoyed the happiness that the journey brought- the tiny ups and downs, the friendships that it fostered, the lessons I learnt, the confidence I gathered and some amazing blogs I read. A big thank you to my fellow bloggers and my readers :) Cheers to zestful living!

Linking to 
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Vacant

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Anita stole one last glance at the beautiful cottage that had been her home for the past seven years. Her gaze lingered on the French windows that opened into a small patch of velvety grass adorned by brightly coloured bougainvillea bushes with mangled branches. She had spent so many days enjoying togetherness and long conversations with her husband over cups of tea and freshly baked cake in that very place. That was many months ago, before he played a game of hide and seek with her, vanishing into a secret hideout away from this world, never to return.

She would miss the ivory coloured walls that were a collage of glimpses of their life together. She remembered how the wooden floor boards squeaked with joy at their footsteps, the cool breeze that carried with it the scent of the coral jasmines and the cool stretch of white marble on the kitchen counter where he always sat to give her company while she cooked.

These had been symbols of joy until a few years ago, but strangely turned into painful reminders of the emptiness in her life. What had been their home for many years was just a house now, waiting for new inhabitants. She drove away to a new life in a new place, hoping to get away from haunting memories. Another family would move in soon and the house would no longer be vacant. She realized with a pang of sorrow that it would not be the same of her heart.





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Unsure

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Bhumika bit her lip and glanced at her watch as she walked back and forth on the platform. Suddenly there was a deafening hoot and before she could calm herself down, the Kerala Express to New Delhi chugged into the station and screeched to a halt. She looked out through the window at her parents after stowing her luggage. Her father seemed to know exactly how she felt. Anxious and unsure.

“Don’t worry, you will be fine. And we are just a call away” he tried to reassure her. She exhaled deeply in the hope of releasing some of her anxiety about what the future in an alien land had in store for her. She waved till she lost sight of them as the train sped away. She had been excited upon clearing the interview and gaining admission into one of the best colleges in the country but when it was time to leave the comforts of her home town and family, she wasn't sure she could cope.

She thought back to the day she had learned to cycle. Her father used to support her by holding on to the back of the seat while she tried to pedal. Initially she would keep turning back to look at him but soon she was sure of her father’s presence behind her. It had made her confident. Then one day, she had cycled quite a distance before she realised that her father had quietly let go. But he was there watching over her.

As the train stopped at the next station, she felt her muscles easing up. She felt the invisible presence of her parents, ready to hold her hand whenever she needed them. As always, it made her confident.

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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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Nostalgia

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After spending fifteen years in the Gulf, we returned to our native village in Kerala. The naalukettu looked exactly the same, though the surroundings were now dotted with new buildings and houses. I walked over to the swing that hung from the Gulmohur tree. It was wet from the early morning showers.

I sat clutching the sturdy coir ropes enjoying the gentle swing back and forth. The bright red flowers let go of the cool drops of rain they held. They awakened within me a feeling of nostalgia, a sudden longing for my past that now seemed  to be so perfect. It was as if each drop wanted to remind me of a story long forgotten. Under my feet lay a thousand red petals of the Gulmohur on a carpet of green grass.

It was many years ago on a similar morning that I met Madhavan. He used to walk past our house every day wearing a crisp white mundu and checked shirt. An occasional glance gave way to smiles and soon we started meeting at the nearby temple, spending endless hours under the sacred Peepal tree. Life seemed so perfect, with Madhavan as the hero of my love story.

I was jolted back to reality when he waved from the other side of the brick wall. “How have you been?” he queried with a smile.

“Fine.”

There was an awkward silence before I headed into the house saying “It is going to rain.”

How could I face him, having given in like a coward to the pressure from my family to marry a rich man working in the Middle East? I drifted back in time to sweet memories untainted by the bitterness of my marriage.

Naalukettu - Traditional house in Kerala

Mundu - A garment worn by people in south India

Gulmohur - A flowering tree

Peepal - Sacred fig tree




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A Name for Keeps

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A name is a word by which things, people, places and animals are known. It helps us to identify them from a group with ease. Well, when it comes to names of people, it is a little more complicated, given the socio-cultural set up we live in. So it is common to find people with two names, a given name and a surname. The surname could be the name of a parent (mostly the father), family or even caste. So a name can reveal quite a lot about a person!

I wouldn't say that one’s identity is tied to a name but I do believe that a name, over the years becomes a part (however small) of one’s identity. We grow up being known by a particular name. Some people choose to keep them; some change them of their own accord or under pressure. Ultimately it is just a matter of choice. However, it is more common among women than men to change their surname after marriage. Some of the reasons given by people who prefer to change their names post marriage are:

1. Everyone in the family will have the same surname, creating a sense of belonging and it is easier to identify members of a family.
2. It avoids hassles especially while travelling abroad, inheriting property etc.
3. It helps the new daughter in law adjust easily and accept the new family as hers.

I’m accepting of the fact that everyone has a right to choose what they want for themselves. But I would definitely want to keep my original name. It is a name I have grown to like over two decades and a half. Everyone knows me by this name. I have been Vidya Subramanian for my friends, teachers, family, employers, colleagues, students and many others. Even my husband and his family got introduced to me and even liked me while I sported this name. My certificates of birth, my achievements in academics, sports and art have been inked with my maiden name. Why would I want to change that? Is there any pressing reason? Not that I know of.

About blending into the new family, I have accepted my husband’s family even without a surname change. I am as much a daughter as I am a daughter-in-law. And a xerox copy of our marriage certificate is enough to convince authorities that we are married (whenever there is a need), so there is nothing to spoil our plans of going abroad. So what if surnames differ within a family? It doesn't make a person a stranger at all. My mom has kept her name since birth, but we still are a loving family. Isn't it strange that the same is not expected of men? Don’t they too have to accept the girl’s parents?

And having said that, why should anyone change a part of themselves for any relationship? Two individuals willingly sharing their lives, love and family without compromising on their identities - that’s marriage for me. It is bad enough that my name is tagged with my father’s, when I would have preferred just “Vidya”. I’m too lazy to take the arduous journey to Indian government offices to add, subtract, replace and modify my name. So I let it be. Vidya Subramanian it is, from birth to death and even after!!

P.S: I understand that people have their own reasons for keeping/changing/modifying their names. To each one his own! I'm thankful that my husband finds the idea of my name change equally absurd.

This post was written for the IndiSpire topic Should a woman change her maiden surname after marriage?
Linking to http://www.writetribe.com/write-tribe-pro-blogger-challenge/

The World Within My Blanket

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“Shhhhhh…..give me your hand and haul yourself into my world quietly. It is a tender, delicate world in here, under the cosy comfort of my blanket. It is a magical world that you will soon find is too good to be true. I love making new friends, and I’m glad tonight it is you. Come into my world beneath the warm folds of my star studded blanket. A world I have created just to invite friends over and share my fascinating tales. I love telling stories. Be my guest tonight and allow yourself to be enchanted by the beauty of my world.

I am like any ordinary 10 year old girl you can imagine. I live with my parents and little brother in a wonderful house by the brook.  My parents think I’m a kid but I think I’m quite grown up; at least enough to understand all that happens around me. Under the starry blanket, the sky of my world, I live a happy life with a loving family and many friends.

My parents, you know are the best in the world. My classmate Liz says they look beautiful and warm. My brother and I mean the world to them. Both of them are doctors, the kind who speak to people about their problems and try to fix them. I thought only God could do that, from above the twinkling stars. Don’t you think that’s a cool thing to do? No matter how busy they are, they spend a lot of time with us. A lot. We often go on picnics, to the movies, the circus and once in a year we go by plane to a faraway place. We play together, have fun, invite my friends over, cuddle up and read books, go fishing and do so many things together.

My dad and mom I think are the best of friends. Sometimes I feel they are in love! Like the older kids in my school. They hold hands and talk a lot. But what makes my friends jealous is that they never yell at each other or go mad at me. I can tell them my fears and even share some secrets. They listen. They would do anything to keep me happy, I’m sure. Dear friend in my blanket, don’t you think they’re awesome? Hold my hand and tell me you’d love to have a family as great as mine. I really hope you do."

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Outside, I hear the click of a door. I poke my head out. Dad is home. I strain my ears to catch the tiniest of whispers. But I don’t have to. The familiar yells, clattering of china, a few sobs, menacing threats and a flow of words I had been asked never to mouth, pulled me out of my blanket sewn with stars. The world outside my world was so different. Which one is real? I don’t want to know. I disappear into the reassuring warmth of my blanket and pull it tightly around me. It is such a beautiful world in here.

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Participating in the Ultimate Blog Challenge.

Linking to : http://www.writetribe.com/write-tribe-pro-blogger-challenge/

Foe to Friend

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I nestled quiet and sleeping

in the deep darkness soothing,

blissful oblivion of awakening light

nurturing slumber in a permanent night.

Rays that enlightened I feared,

unending darkness I cheered.

My formidable foe clad in colours of light

once came knocking at my door shut tight.

“Darkness  my friend, lend a hand!”

my cries echoed in the surrounding sand

where I lay, a dormant seed

an ignorant, insignificant bead.

Blinded soon by a beam so bright

I watched helpless, a losing fight;

the miracle brought joy in the end

of turning foe into a friend.

In the warm embrace of bright rays

of knowledge, promising meaningful days,

I danced and swayed in sheer bliss

of a new found friend’s loving kiss.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.
Linking to : http://www.writetribe.com/write-tribe-pro-blogger-challenge/
and http://ultimateblogchallenge.com/ 

Bin It

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2014 is slowly fading into the past as a collage of memories and we eagerly await a new beginning, a new journey through 2015. The twilight between the years is a good time to reflect about the past experiences that have shaped us into what we are at this moment, and to weave dreams of a bright future. So here is a list of 10 things I wish to dump and start afresh the next year. I don’t want to call them resolutions and make too many guilt trips in 2015; let’s say these are some things I want to stop doing and I’ll try hard not to do them, to the best of my ability.

1. Worrying unnecessarily (to be thrown out of the window)

We often forget that the past has slipped away, the future is yet to come and that the present is all that we have in our hands. Living in the present and not worrying over things that happened in the past and not mulling over an uncertain future is something I want to try and practice faithfully. I have the habit of worrying unnecessarily sometimes, even about things that are beyond my control. So next time I am faced with a distressing situation or thought, I hope to find my way through it in a calm manner. And worrying about what others will think, that’s another story in itself. I don’t want to care about it.

2. (Locking the doors to) excessive gadget and social media usage

Though I am not one of those gadget freaks, I still feel I need to keep a watch over the time I spend with my phone. I hope to reduce logging into social media sites to just once a day and not use my phone unless I have a pressing reason to do so. I wish to remind myself that my really smart phone has the potential to make me stupid and that I have a life outside the sphere of “likes” and “comments”. I don’t need to advertise whatever I think and feel (meh, happy, blessed, irritated and a million more), all the restaurants I dine at, the gifts that my husband gives me and other things that very few people actually care about. I hope to refrain from posting status updates unless I have something strong and meaningful to say.  Number of photos that I send floating into cyberspace to go down but not to zero. 

3. Compromises on health and well being (to be swatted away)

In the beginning of 2014 my husband and I had resolved to make better lifestyle choices for better health. I feel I have done justice to it by cutting down greatly on junk food. Of course, I’m human (a foodie too) and have made compromises and treated myself to pizzas and pastries. The coming year I hope to continue the efforts and take it a little further by consuming fresh wholesome meals, exercising and meditating on a daily basis. I should also make my lifestyle more eco-friendly for the benefit of my family and others inhabiting this planet.

4. Being judgmental (to be flushed out of my system)

We are all different- we differ in appearances, feelings, values, thoughts, desires and many other things. I hope to be more inclusive of the variety around me and not judge other people based on the clothes they wear or choices they make based on skewed perceptions and the limited view from the window of my mind. I want to be able to put myself in others’ shoes, at least give it a shot before taking the easier route of judging the other person.

5. Lack of confidence in my writing (to be trampled under my feet)

I love writing and that alone is a strong enough reason for me to write. I should stop inhibiting myself by needless comparisons and fear of criticism. I need to work hard in improving my writing and keep blogging regularly whether people are reading me or not. My blog is a part of my creative space and I intend to make the best of it.

6. Impulsive buying and accumulation of things (to be swept under the carpet)

Though I am not a shopaholic and am a “limited needs”  person, I still realize that there is room for improvement when I see unused stuff  occupying space in the kitchen, wardrobe etc. I am going to ask myself if I really need something before fishing out my wallet. I wish to use my creativity to the fullest and try to come up with new uses for old stuff. If unsuccessful, I will give them to someone who really needs them. An exception however is in the case of books. That’s just not possible!

7. Wastage of food, water (to be condemned)

Need of the hour, this one can’t be put off till Jan 1 2015. It’s a basic necessity that sustains life, and unfortunately millions out there still struggle for a glass of clean water to drink and a plate of nutritious food to eat. And apart from food and water, there are many other things we mindlessly throw as waste. I need to raid the dustbin to see what I can reuse and recycle. It is time to lock away the tragic memories of my unsuccessful wet waste composting attempts and start with renewed hope and wisdom from mistakes of the past.

8. Shouting in anger (to be silenced)

I’m sure there are peaceful ways of expressing displeasure and anger than shouting till the other person becomes deaf to your calls. Sometimes I immediately regret the things I mouth in fury as I don’t think I ever mean them. I should learn better ways of letting others know of my disapproval. I’m considering a crash course in anger management where I am the teacher and student. Leaving the place and talking about it later is something I wish to try the next time I sense my nostrils flaring and fuming.

9. Taking people, relations and things for granted (to be given a cold shoulder)

I can’t let excuses like “being busy” sever my relations with favourite people. I hope to overcome the inertia to make that call to a loved one to show that I really care. The clock is ticking; we are not yet capable of stopping death. I realize relationships need constant nurturing with love, care and understanding and that a little weeding of misunderstandings and ill feelings that may have sprouted will be great. Apart from people I often tend to take all the things I have, freedom and safety that I enjoy for granted. I want to dump that.

10. Procrastination (to go down the drain)

Though I enthusiastically do all the stuff I am very interested in, I tend to become lazy when it comes to stuff that doesn't interest me, but which have to be done. These include simple things like going to the bank and closing a sleepy account, cleaning up after a frenzy of cooking, cleaning my cupboard and similar stuff that I feel are “too clerical” and “boring” at times. I hope I do these things without my husband and parents having to play the role of an alarm clock (repeated alarms make it all the more boring). I should update my CV after I write this post. Boring as hell but my career is at stake!

The next time you catch me doing something I promised to dump, you can sure question me. But please try not to be the alarm!

This post was written for IndiSpire for the topic:

10 things you want to dump this year and start fresh next year !...#dump10things

Pink, Blue or Purple?

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She was different from all the other girls in my class. Bold, daring, extremely energetic, defiant at times and almost always shabbily dressed. The contrast was glaring, right on one’s face. While most girls  flaunted well-oiled plaits and pigtails secured by black ribbons, washed and powdered faces sometimes highlighted by a bindi or a smear of kohl and neat uniforms, notebooks and bags, this one just did not yield to such expectations. At first I found her queer, the odd one out, a girl with whom one could never associate the colour pink (as is ingrained in us by the media, garment and toy manufacturers and almost everyone in the whole wide world). She would chew gum in class, laugh out loudly, pick fights with boys that sometimes turned into physical brawls, roam around carelessly not the least bothered by homework and assignments, jump walls and climb trees. One could never find her gossiping with other girls about make-up, boys and the like. She was so different.

I soon developed a strong liking for her. May be because she reflected a part of me that was left unexpressed because of the way our family and society moulds girls. There are so many gender stereotypes and roles assigned by the society we live in, that it is really hard to escape being victim to at least a handful of them. She loved sports. That was her world.That was what kept her going. She championed in any sport she took part in. Athletic and agile, determined and dedicated, she was made for the playgrounds, and the tracks marked with chalk. The sound of the whistle, the gunshot that marked the beginning of a race, applause and cheers from the audience and the clinking of medals and trophies were music to her ears. In her I saw my unfulfilled dreams come to life.

However, the boys teased her and called her a “man”. They teased her mercilessly about having doubts about her sex. They invited her to “guys only” parties. The girls too did their bit. They didn't allow her to be their friend. They made it clear that she was not worthy of hanging out with. A friend who could never be introduced to one’s parents. She became an outlaw in my class and I watched helplessly. Gradually she was labelled a tomboy. Jokes about her floated everywhere, managing to creep up till the staff room. Teachers and well-wishers advised her to behave like a girl if she wanted to be loved and respected. Her mother was summoned for a meeting that saw the tormenting of a poor, hapless woman by some teachers. As I watched the mother leave the school in tears, I decided to do something about this. We had a class discussion where everyone spoke openly and freely. I stressed the importance of tolerance to diversity and the need for all of us to bust certain gender myths that plagued society. The students responded well and promised to be her friends. I desperately hoped it would bring about some change in attitude.

Of course it did. By the end of the year Sharmila became truly sharmeeli(shy), stopped going for sports and other activities, confined herself to her girlfriends and their gossips, never answered back or questioned me, came to school with oiled hair, clean nails, colourful bindis and “behaved herself” as the other teachers told me. Everyone except me seemed to be happy about her turning over a new leaf. The boys in class were happy as she had been “tamed” and was no longer a threat (as she was stronger than some of them); the girls were now ready to take her into their fold. She was not the same person any more. Instead of bringing about a change in mind-set of the society, she had erased her own identity and individuality. She seemed to be happy to be loved and accepted by everyone. But the part of me that had come to life after a long period of dormancy shrivelled. May be there will be a time when one can express oneself freely, without the fear of being isolated or rejected. I eagerly wait for that springtime where there is a little cosy space for everyone in this world.