Those Two Minutes

The first time it happened, I was not even 10.

I remember standing in front of the bathroom mirror that morning, practicing, and praying for those two minutes to just not happen, pass, disappear.

My heart was pounding, I kept forgetting what I had to say, and yet, I kept revising it in front of that mirror with the light blue frame that matched the light blue tiles that would have reminded me of ocean, if I had seen one by then.

I wished for a late arrival- the bus could get late- there were a million possibilities- a punctured tyre, a sick driver, a late child, a closed railway gate that we crossed on our way....anything- I prayed, "Let there be anything, but let the bus reach the school just 2 minutes late."

For that morning, I was to speak in front of the whole school, for a whole two minutes. And if we reached two minutes late, it would delay the whole schedule, and that would probably relieve me of this terrifying "opportunity". My first ever speech. The topic was Newspapers. 

No big deal, right? Such an easy topic. But Public Speaking is more about attitude than about Topic. The fact that you are at a place where everyone else can  see you (you can't hide in the sea of faces- and it does look like a sea when you are up on the stage), where the mic is in front of you and every sigh and shudder can be heard across the hall or the playground- that is what gives most people shivers when it comes to Public Speaking, even if no one else has the same courage either! The fear of judgement, of being laughed at, mocked at, made comments about later, and so on and so forth. 

To my luck, the bus didn't get late; we arrived in time, the Assembly happened as usual, and with a pounding heart, and a straight face, I did give that two minute speech that set me up for giving speeches for rest of my school life!

                  

                     Fast forward almost twenty five years later, I got this opportunity to promote my book at a conference. The audience consisted of Insurance professionals, and for them it was an end-of- the-conference event. For the twenty-four hours that I had known about it, I didn't even once consider carrying any memory or flash cards, for pointers about what to speak. I thought, "I know my book inside out. How hard can it be?" No practice, no nothing- I just made sure I got my hair done though!

At the event, I felt a little nervous, mentally revising what I should say about the book, but not nervous enough to back out.The only things that bothered me at the back of my head were, a/ I was wearing heels and the shoe size was a tad small for my feet (they had promised it was pure leather and it will "open up!- it never did!), and b/ my bouts of dizziness that had been troubling me for a few years already.

So there I went up on the stage, and grabbed the podium with both my arms like I was sinking at deep end of the pool! Because believe it or not, just by being up there, knowing my every movement was being watched, knowing if I slipped or had an episode of dizziness (which were both real possibilities), I would make a fool of myself, I needed something to hold on to. As I started speaking, I liked how my voice boomed on the mic. And then I saw my arms, as I waved them to supplement what I was saying-  they were shaking, terribly. In my mind I remember thinking, "If I can see it, they can see it too!"  And I began to falter, and forget. It was then, at that moment, that I made eye contact with one member of the audience. She smiled. And then all the rules started coming back to me- not that I could stop my arms from shaking, or feel less nervous, but just a little less so. I still forgot all the interesting stuff I could have said, and yet, felt much better; only because in that sea of disinterested or too-eager-to-ask-questions faces, there was one face that was smiling, that was actually listening to what I had to say.

So why did I dig this one up to write about today? To acknowledge, share and accept that in spite of our best intentions, we do mess up our opportunities sometimes. And it is not because we are not prepared, but it is because we are afraid. It is the fear that kills, more than anything else.

And two, to remind that a little kindness can make all the difference. In my heart, I thanked that lady whose kind smile made it possible for me to hang in there, collect pieces of my failed performance and still walk out of the hall with my head held high. 

I have to admit, somewhere deep in my heart, I want to test myself again on a stage. How hard can it be? Right? :)

Back to the Future

I wanted to say Back to School- but it didn't sound interesting enough, especially when everyone - from malls to online news sites- is selling everything from ideas to bags to stationery to lunch boxes and water bottles under the title Back to School. Truly, starts to feel as if kids are going on a space exploration expedition rather than the same old regular school!

Ok- there I did underplay a bit. Because, frankly, after two months of lazy mornings, late nights, (one of the perks of having a non FTE mom!), no pressure days and evenings, with the blazing sun as our reason, and excuse for doing nothing, it is kind of hard to go back to school when everything seems to be the same as the beginning of the holidays- the sun is still hot at 42-46 degrees during the day e.g. So, yes, going back to school after the long summer break, that did not seem long enough this year, is a big deal indeed.

We have spent the last week getting our uniforms and books and bags, and breakfast and lunch menus in order, and celebrated the last evening before 'back-to-school' watching the much hyped The Secret Life of Pets. As sorted as that looks, the toughest part has been finding that alarm clock that we lost exactly two months ago- the one that we could not live without, the one that we had hidden behind pile of books, and then pile of clothes, and then pile of holiday bags, and some more piles till it eventually disappeared- that clock. It is cream in colour, has clearly marked digits on it, tells perfect time, and was set ten minutes ahead of the normal time to give that leeway of ten minutes every school morning! Yep- still looking for it!!

Another hard thing is getting used to kids' absence. I kind of like having them around- even if that means my normal routine life has to be readjusted. Their presence is what makes the house feel like a home- their attempts at cooking and that too cuisine that is not ours, lots of arguments and plans and sulking because of absolute boredom, cajoling them to come with me for grocery shopping because it is too boring a chore to do alone- it is all very heart-warming for me, personally. And yet, this morning, at the neighbourhood grocery store, shopping alone made me feel like, normal, very 'back-to-schoolish'! and believe me, normal is good!

So, here is to 'back-to-school' and all the mommies who give up their normal lives to be at beck and call of kids during the summer, to all the daddies who have no option but to live alone and go to work daily in the horrid summer here while their families move to cooler pastures, to all the kids who fill our homes with their voices and happiness- good luck! Let the madness of school activities and Parent Coffee Mornings, and school meetings, and school runs, and after school activities, and birthday parties and last minute projects begin! Hope this new school year fulfills many dreams and potentials....and brings a blessed winter ahead!

Image courtesy: Google Images

I Promise!

I have never said those words to anyone- not in my recent, fresh memory at least. Not those two exact words. Especially not after I learnt another beautiful word, InshaAallah, God Willing.  Na- never. May be because I have never had the conviction with which they were said to my son recently, "I promise- by tomorrow you will be absolutely fine." I am not sure if she really was so sure, or she was just giving us confidence but for sure, I could not help admiring her confidence!

But it also made me wonder, is that what it is- a confidence game? Do people really mean it when they say so? Or does it become a habit with them- a subconscious act of conscious training? What gives them so much confidence in their skill, in themselves? Do they really feel in control of circumstances, or is it just positive thinking? Whatever it is, it is admirable because it creates faith- faith at a time when it is most needed; faith that whatever it is you are being promised, it will be done, that someone is actually in control of everything and someone knows their job well enough to promise you with such conviction.

But what happens when after being told, "I promise!" things go wrong, work does not get done, promises are not kept? Anger, I am sure, is the first emotion. And then disbelief that how could it happen when the promise was made with such vehement conviction?  Negativity, in short.

May be that is why I have never had the confidence to say to anyone - "I promise!". And yet, I admit that  it feels great to have someone with such strength, confidence, and conviction in our life- someone who can give hope and comfort when you need it the most. Now, if only everyone who says/ said "I promise" keeps/ kept their promise! 

Being Anti-Social

Up until the late nineties, it was truly a joyous time- these last ten days of December, the first ten days of January, Valentine's Day, Diwali, and birthdays. We would wait anxiously for that time of the afternoon when Postman would ring the bell, drop the letters and be on his way before we could run to see who had received a card or a letter. It was exciting, to put it mildly, and the memory is still warm. 

The envelopes- red, pink, lemon yellow, green, even a dull grey, white. even the blue inland envelope; to whom was it addressed; trying to guess the handwriting; then checking the stamp for date and place, and if it could be removed and reused; and then, irrespective of everything, taking our letter/ card to a quiet corner of the house, reading, smiling/ frowning/ laughing/ crying/ blushing/ getting angry- depending upon the contents; immediately penning down a reply, and contributing to country's economy by posting it as promptly. Archies' remained our most frequented shop until those late nineties! Ah! the charms of the good old days. 

Now, frankly, since the e-cards came, the entire art of greeting has lost its warmth. In fact, as the year draws to a close, I am dreading it- no, not the new beginning but the deluge of WhatsApp messages, clogging of FB wall, mass emails, and jamming of the network because everyone is busy forwarding their New Year wishes. 

There is no personalised thought, no real effort- someone else seems to read our mind, we tag our friends and share it/ forward it. How wow is that??? To compliment it, there is no desire to even 'save' these messages! In comparison, I still have cards and letters from my friends and family - which I regularly received until the birth of my first one (after that sadly, technology took over to a large extent), and sometimes I still read them; and they most definitely, take me down a certain memory lane.

This year, I started my own thing- I reverted back to the age-old custom of calling; actually calling friends and relatives on their special days instead of the e-thing. And I can tell you, even a 10 minutes (because it was long -distance) call made me feel more connected than an email, an ecard, a post on their wall, a Whatsapp or WeChat message, or anything in that sphere could ever do. However, given the fact that technology has certainly made staying connected easier and more affordable for everyone, I would be happy e-messaging as long as the same message is not meant for the entire world!

Personally, there are no new year resolutions, not yet, except this: I will not even open mass messages, forwarded videos, and such. May you find courage too! 

On the Other Side of the Fence

There is a very fine line between two sides of this fence.

I stay on my side; I become a patient. A typical patient who trusts and doubts doctors with the same fervour, who imagines the doctor will be able to cure me, who wants to practically hug the doctor when something terrible has been fixed, and who wants to find another, ‘more reliable’ doctor when there is no relief, and who even tells other friends who is a ‘good’ doctor to consult and why.

I jump across and I come to belong to the side of doctors. I see their viewpoint, their tensions, their joys and their sorrows.

My father is visiting us, and yesterday, when he went for his walk, a child fell down in the park and started crying. He could not see the child in pain and offered to look at his presumably hurt leg. He did not know the parents or the child, or anyone for that matter, and he could have ignored and continued walking like the rest of us do, but no- he could not walk away. Being a doctor is what he is, has been, for the last 50 years! When he came home, he was very happy because the child had gone home running!

My brother would have done the same, or even my brother-in-law, or even my sister, or my sister-in-law. I guess, once you are a doctor, you can’t help being one when you see someone who you think you can help.

I have seen this side of the fence all my life. When we were small kids, we would hear the door-bell ring all times of the day and night, and our father would never turn away a patient even though it was a clinic, not a 24-hour hospital with ER or A&E facilities. I see the same now- with rest of my family- who all are, shall I say, unfortunately, in the business of saving lives?

I say unfortunately because saving lives is no longer just a noble thing- it is a complex equation of money, facilities, accessibility, ability and destiny.  My brother and brother-in-law are both neonatologists- very sensitive area because it has a lot of emotional investment, both for them and for the patients’ families. They are based in small cities where such level or quality of healthcare had been unheard of before, and for everything bordering on ‘serious’ or life threatening, you had to run to the metro cities like Delhi, and wait to get treated in the maze of super-speciality hospitals, where even trying to get doctor’s attention needs effort; or die on the way because there was nothing else that could be done! But it is not just making such a facility available in a small city- it is what comes with it!  They give up their mental peace and pleasures, and in return, sometimes they smile when they win love of a child and his family, and at other times, they go through intense mental agony because in spite of their best efforts, they are unable to save a child, and feel responsible for it even when we all know that not only our body but God also works in mysterious ways. They understand the pain of his family, but there is nothing they can do except feeling solidarity with the family.

I have seen both of them spending entire nights in the NICU to treat a serious patient, discussing cases at the dining table, missing their own kids’ birthdays and school performances only because there was a patient admitted who could not be left alone even for a minute, being up and back in NICU at the slightest ring of the phone, being available 24x7 even over the phone, and what not. They impress me, and I love them not because they are family but because there is a passion involved there. They give me faith, and confidence that there will always be some doctors who are not in for the money, or quick gains…there are some who really want us to get well, and who are happy when we do feel better.

On the other side of the fence, this means that I give benefit of doubt to the doctor when his treatment does not meet my expectations, change doctors when I am unhappy with the way I am being treated, even not recommend him when someone asks, may be even complain to the authorities if I feel serious damage has been done due to the doctor’s negligence, but….remember, doctor is just another human being who has worked really hard to be in a position to save lives, but he is not God, and like rest of us, doctors also do not have all the answers, or any magical powers or potions. 

Do Talk to Strangers....

While going through my drafts, I found this one, written a few years ago. Thought to share it because this was exactly the topic I wanted to write on today! So, here it is:

I met her at the clinic. She was dressed in a dark blue/ black trouser and a white T-shirt. She looked kind, yet, I had my own trepidations. I had no clue how was she going to be. As we started talking, I looked at her face and concluded that she was at least 10-12 years younger to me. I noted, absent-mindedly, how baked, brown my skin looked against her white; how wrinkled my hands looked against her young, supple and moisturised skin. I wondered if the thought of skin colour, race, or ethnicity had ever crossed her mind while treating her patients.

We didn't talk much in our first meeting except the evaluation. However, I was intrigued how such a young girl, obviously from UK (her accent gave that away!) had left her home to come to the land of sand. I wanted to know what had prompted her to do so. I wanted to know if this was a choice she had made or did it just happen to her. Was she married, or living alone here? (Us nosy Indians!! Or, more positively, we are naturally curious!!)

Our next meeting and the two more after that, and we got talking, I mean, really talking. We talked about her choice of profession, pregnancy, kids, deliveries, side effects of the same, her own aches and pains, her family, my family, and what not....and then she told me she was leaving and moving back. Her husband had been transferred. (I did think- would her husband have agreed to move, leaving his practice behind if his wife was the one being transferred- but didn't ask her.) We bade farewells and hoped to see each other again someday, and hopefully for better reasons.

As I said that bye, I wondered  how we had shared a small but warm bond. I could not help wondering again how easy it is to talk  to total strangers. Why is it that with total strangers, or people we meet by chance, we never think about any repercussions of our confessions and deepest feelings and fears while with our closest friends and family, we are worried that they will judge us, and might even share our 'secrets'  with our other 'friends' or family?

Is it similar to the comfort one draws in being anonymous, untraceable? Is it because we know that we don't know them well enough to run the risk of common friends, and hence social judgement? Or, is it  just the positive vibes that assure us? 

Yet, we make the mistake of misjudging people all so often. We regret. We promise ourselves never to trust another person again - and yet again, every now and then, someone comes along, in a new or unusual situation, full of those positive, comforting vibes, disarms us, allows us to bring our guard down, and relieve ourselves of our emotional stress- even if for a little while. 

May everyone have more such encounters! We all need a sympathetic ear every now and then, don't we?

A word of caution: however disarmed you feel, however warm the positive aura of the person might be, DO NOT give out your passwords, credit card number, CVV, your kids' personal details etc. etc. etc.- you get the drift, I hope.

Birthday Celebration Offer

We are turning 1 this May, and to celebrate, we are offering On My Way Home at more than 50% discount for an entire week!

From: May 1, 2015 8am- May 8, 2015 12am

Only at:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Way-Home-Monika-Arora-Agarwal-ebook/dp/B00KGW7DLG

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00KGW7DLG

Sale Price:

£1.99 (including VAT) – 53% OFF on original price of £4.20

$1.99 - 51% OFF on original price of $3.99

Thank you for your love-affair with the written word!  

And just a reminder that if you have subscribed to Kindle Unlimited, you can read On My way Home, and  many more books for free!

L'Affaire

OK! I am finally convinced that I will be like fish out of water when we move back to India. Why, it already seems like a different country! For example, a friend told me yesterday about her friend's extramarital affair that has been going on for a few years now. She did not want to share the 'secret' but the pressure of keeping it for so long had started getting on her nerves. And since I do not know her friend, she could safely use A and B instead of their real names, without a threat to their private and public lives. 

To say I was shocked, would be an under-statement because these two people in question were not some teenagers; high on hormones, confused, infatuated, experimenting until they met the right people....no, these were grown ups- people in their forties, people with families where they play the role of parents to their children, and caretakers for their aging parents, people with long-standing marriages where they shared history and future, people who could very well comprehend the consequences of their actions but they just chose to follow their heart (?). Well- this must be what they call mid-life crisis then. Like no one told that marriages are not all fairy-tale 'happily ever-after' affairs until you find it for yourself  that there is no such thing as a 'perfect marriage', no one told about mid-life crisis either! 

Extra-marital affairs are not new to mankind but they have, historically, held the status of being taboo, an exception rather than the norm.....so what has happened now? When did the moral code change so much that people now 'want to experiment outside marriage', with or without the knowledge of their spouses? Whatever happened to the old-fashioned covert appreciation of another person's husband or wife or partner, and leaving it at that? Is it really normal now for people to look for a little extended comfort and excitement outside marriage when they start seeing their own marriage as stagnant, and want to do nothing to improve it? Or are there any other reasons too? 

Looking at my face, my friend said I was over-reacting....this was 'almost the norm', at least in metros! Is it? I am not judging anyone but it would be interesting to know what motivates, gives courage to people to break the promises of fidelity, without guilt. And, equally interesting to know if they would be so forgiving of their partner's/ spouse's little experiments too?

Limited Time offer.............................................................................

To mark the fourth of July holiday, On My Way Home will be available at:

51% discount.....for 32 hours only!!!! Only on amazon.com!!!!!

So whatever your reason for not having bought the book as yet, this long weekend is the time to buy it!!!!!

This limited period offer starts on July 4, 2014 at 12AM PST......

Up there!

Well, yesterday was a very special day. It was my first 'public appearance' involving the book. I was excited, of course, thankful for the opportunity, and under the impression that I will be just doing the 'draw' for the participants. 

I took a whole day to decide what i should wear, and settled for Indian wear considering it wa s gathering of NRIs. Got my hair done, tried my heels, and asked the hotel for directions the night before. Yesterday morning, I left the home early enough to reach the venue at least 15 minutes before. Closer to the venue, i got lost and called them repeatedly for the directions, still always missing one side street. In despair, I asked a fellow driver and he told me to take a u-turn after the 'next two signals'. But when i reached the second signal, it said, "No- u-turn'! I went out of the area and repeated the whole process, keeping the venue staff on the phone line with me all the while. When a friend called, i told him i was too lost to talk right now. Very kindly, he called me back a little later to give me directions! All in all, I barely managed to reach the venue in time. 

Once there, I felt so out of place for a moment, just for a moment- all the NRi gathering was dressed in Western wear! Thank you very much!!!

My host was very gracious and introduced me to a lot of his colleagues and we were having a good chat when he asked me, "Would you like to say something about your book? 2 minutes?"

I paused before asking myself, "Would I? Why not...?"

I said, "Would they be interested? The book is not even available here...."

But it was decided i should. For rest of the morning, I wondered if I should 'prepare a script'? I decided not to- I know my book well enough...and then, how hard can it be to talk about it?

When they called me on the stage, i wondered why 'flats' cannot be as formal or dressy as 'heels'. My legs threatened to give way because I was wearing heels 1/2 size too small, squashing my foot and causing circulation problems! In my mind, I had a broad idea of how i wanted to start and end....but once up there, it just took a life of its own...reminding me that it had been over ten years since I had spoken to a gathering at all, and over 25 years since I had spoken on a stage like this. No wonder  my train of thought had got muddled up, and i was not saying the things i wanted to....I  was worried the audience was losing interest, but there was a saviour- the lady on the table in the front whose gentle smile was very encouraging. In the end, it was a bit awkward but a very enriching experience...

I learnt:

1. You never know where help can come from....

2. Never ever buy heels/ shoes which are even 1/2 a size small, even if the sales guy says "it is leather and will expand..."

3. Be comfortable in what you are wearing. I was....and very happy that in that sea of blacks and white and an occasional sea-green shirt, I was wearing a rich colour.

4. It does not harm to have some bullet points in front of you to control your train of thoughts- because the world does seem very different from up there!

5. Enjoy....every moment of the experience because it is worth it!

So, that how my first public appearance, and my first 'speech' about the book went. I was worried  thinking i messed it up, but then thought about sharing it nevertheless...there is no laughter like laughing at myself! :)))))))))))

On My Way Home

I am absolutely thrilled to share with you that my debut novel, On My Way Home, is now available as ebook on all Amazon sites. Although i have mentioned this in the book as well, I would once again like to thank you all for your support, and good wishes....

For your convenience, just click on the link of your country of residence below to read a part of the book free, and place an order if you like it. Fesh audio clips of the book also get regularly posted on https://www.facebook.com/OnMyWayHome.Monika- so follow me there for more updates....

United States: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00KGW7DLG

United Kingdom: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00KGW7DLG

India: http://www.amazon.in/gp/product/B00KGW7DLG

Germany: http://www.amazon.de/gp/product/B00KGW7DLG

France: http://www.amazon.fr/gp/product/B00KGW7DLG

Italy: http://www.amazon.it/gp/product/B00KGW7DLG

Spain: http://www.amazon.es/gp/product/B00KGW7DLG

Japan: http://www.amazon.co.jp/gp/product/B00KGW7DLG

Mexico: https://www.amazon.com.mx/dp/B00KGW7DLG

Australia: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B00KGW7DLG

Brazil: https://www.amazon.com.br/dp/B00KGW7DLG

Canada: http://www.amazon.ca/gp/product/B00KGW7DLG



Unfortunately, the book is not yet available in the Middle East (if that is your location in the Amazon account), and a few other countries.

Look forward to your feedback :))))....thank you!!!!!!

What am I meant to Do?

Two days back, 7days had a news item with the following headline:

Commerce boss says estimate of 277,000 Expo2020 jobs is ‘conservative’

"Wow!", I thought to myself, "what an opportunity; if not now, when"; and so on and so forth. You see, I have been out of the full-time job force for almost 9 years now; saying a 'decade' makes it sound even worse. So, one, I have lost the steam that one needs to 'balance' home and work- if there is any such thing in reality, and two, I feel literally redundant as far as the corporate world is concerned- having lost touch with the latest practises, market trends, and so on and so forth.

"Look at the positive side", I chided myself, "It is an opportunity to start afresh. I can decide what is it that I will really enjoy doing in the long-term, rather than going just by my degrees, or thinking what is it that I can manage to do along with my domestic responsibilities, that will also bring in the money?"

You see, I do not want to be a super-mommy but I am sick and tired of the pity with which people treat my job of raising two kids, and looking after their well-being. Yes, while the world around me has changed in many respects, it has not yet learnt to respect the job of a stay-at-home mum, or even a house-wife who is now, in some parts of the world called, a home-maker. May be I am even thankful to these people for reminding me every now and then that I can do something more tangible (read- fathomable in currency terms) with my life and my time, it is just that I have chosen to be content with the non-tangible benefits. But sometimes even I am tempted to get back into this work-force. At the cost of turning my smoothly running world upside down, yes, I am tempted to wear those pant-suits again, feel the power of authority, indulge in buying designer bags; sessions at the spa; regular manicures, pedicures and facials; quick lunches with friends; shop without waiting for Sale- and all of this without feeling guilty- ah! the perks of being a part of this work-force. 

With this is mind, I started thinking- what is that one job that will make me happy for years, what is it that I am 'meant' to do? 

Googling just the same I came across an aptitude test at Oprah.com (http://www.oprah.com/money/Aptitude-Tests-Career-Assessment). Very enthusiastically, I finished it in a jiffy and turned the page to see the results.

Lo! and behold!! I had a 2/3 score in every question. In simple English, it meant that I have a 66% aptitude to be all of the following, (and yet, not 100% of any of the following):

Engineers, computer programmers, editors. 

Research scientists, police detectives, lawyers. 

Engineers, architects, physicians. 

Economists, financial analysts, accountants. 

Politicians, entrepreneurs, physicians, activists. 

So, in the end, I was a bit disappointed with the ambiguity that the test left me with. I am still unsure if I will find any opportunities in the 277,000 currently estimated; and more importantly, if I will be interested in spending rest of my life doing one of those jobs. But I did learn a very interesting fact- that as a mother for over a decade now, I have been all of the above for my kids....

The bigger questions then is, is anyone in the corporate world looking for a candidate like that- an 'all in one administrator with over 14 years of experience', and even some academic degrees to meet the 'criteria'?

:)

Another Artist Silenced???

"Another artist silenced"- that’s how the headline read on NDTV 24X7. Bangalore Gallery removed canvas of nude painting of, guess what, Hindu gods and goddesses by this artist. Yes, once again (last time it was the legendary Mr. M.F.Hussain).

I have a question, no, actually three:

1. Why this fixation with Hindu gods and goddesses? May be, their freedom of expression should expand their imagination and they should try their hands at other religions too. I have a feeling they will be hugely surprised by the recognition of their work.

2. Why is freedom of expression always mistaken with insensitivity to other people? Would you like it if someone made fun of your accent, your clothes, your food, your ethnicity, your traditions, culture, nationality or your faith? Then why, in the name of art, does one have to be so thoughtless?

3. What do you do in your bedroom? Would you like to make a painting of your bedroom activities and exhibit for everyone to view? I don’t think so. Why? Because that’s your personal life- nobody's business. It is far too private. It IS YOUR right to protect your personal life.

What about my rights? Isn’t Faith, Belief, Religion a private matter too? My relationship with the One Above is strictly my business and no one has the right to ridicule it in anyway. Isn’t that what we teach our kids- respect for all? The basis of Secularism?

Artists are supposedly more sensitive people, so how can an artist be so inconsiderate to hundreds and thousands of people who, he knows, will be offended by his fixation and interpretation? It is either being forgetful, selfish or ignorant (Nudity is anyway a very sensitive matter in all the cultures across the world), or simply too engrossed in his work to notice anything else???

For a change, I support Bangalore Gallery's decision.

That Phone Call

What is one thing that NRIs are always scared of? 

That ominous phone call- in the middle of the night, early in the morning, anytime of the day…that unexpected phone call that tells you that you have lost someone. It is the loss coupled with that feeling of helplessness…you cannot even rush to attend the last rites- by the time you reach home, it is all over. A chapter closed. An opportunity to see one last time missed, forever.  A regret mixed with guilt stays in your heart that tells you you were the only one absent.

As that feeling hit home today, it left me nervous. My first thought was to go home. Next came the practicalities. Where should I leave my kids? Should I try to find airline tickets? Will I be able to still see my grandfather, or will it be too late? I do not want to go home and see his empty bed after 6 months. I do not want to cry alone with his memories in my heart. I want to celebrate his long life (99 years) and remind myself that he is probably with my grandmother now, and happier.  But sitting so far from home, it is not easy to let go; to not remember him with his walking stick,  his conversations, his treats, his hand on your head even when his memory was failing him, or even his sickness in the last few years…

I have to admit- I hate these phone calls…

The Right Punishment for a Rapist...

As women living in India, how many of us can say they have never felt scared being out after the dark, or even during the day (depending on which part of the country we live in)? Walking the roads in India for women was never safe, and it still is not. If anything, it has only become worse. Women earlier were used to being whistled at, hearing the lewd comments being passed, teased and so on and so forth. We were taught to mind our ways, ignore such men, and be back home before sunset. Now, with so much ‘progress’ that our country has supposedly made, the eve-teasers, as they have always been called, too have graduated to become rapists? The North, in particular has been in the news again and again in the past few months for rapes- nothing was done except giving sympathy and monetary compensation to the victim’s family (at best!!!).

Unless lawmakers think it through, and make tougher laws to deal with use and abuse of the laws, the loop-holes, the implementation and the corrupt system that engulfs it all….we will just feel sorry for the victims, and hope we do not have to go through that pain at personal level.

What is the right punishment anyway for a rapist? Should he  (/they) be hanged to death publicly, ostracized from the community, castrated (as most of the women feel), beaten and shamed publicly, or should we just tell ourselves that we cannot stoop to their level and let them just serve a few years in prison? What can be done with the current rotten state of India’s legal, political and administrative system? The truth is, a rapist or his family can never understand the victim’s pain, the emotional scarring, and the mental trauma. A rapist deserves to feel that pain, to wallow in the same sadness, to feel the burning sensation of an unwanted touch, to acknowledge that what he did was utterly and absolutely wrong…

What is the best way then to  teach him a lesson, to punish him so anyone even tempted to rape thinks thrice before putting his temptation before him….????

Is there a way to change mentality really?

Can we make the men on those streets, public spaces and offices and everywhere else respect women if they have not learnt it in their own families and surroundings?

We need to redo the emotional wiring of these men I think…if there is way to do it.

On My Way Home

The UAE National Day fever has gripped everyone. Everywhere you see- schools, malls, offices, residential buildings, libraries, private houses, roads- everywhere- all you see is the four colours of the UAE flag. The balloons, the huge flags, the pins, the badges, the car decorations, the cupcakes, the special edition T-shirts, the candies...everything. It fills me with happiness, pride and a sense of camaraderie. 

Giant delight: A huge UAE flag on display at Al Wahda Mall, Abu Dhabi.

Image Credit: Gulf News

In the middle of this frenzy, this morning I was asked a question that left me speechless. Here is what happened:

As a part of the UAE National Day celebrations, the school gave out postcards to children to fill and stamp with your contribution to the nation, your thumbprint and your details. In the area where you had to write 'Emirate', I wrote 'Dubai'. 

My 7-year old protested, "NO, you are supposed to write where you were born."

"Where do you think you were born?" I asked.

"India."

"No. my dear, you were born right here, in Dubai."

"So I am a local!?" came the immediate reply cum question.

I have put the ! and ? together to signify the feeling that was in his tone- it was that of a sense of realisation plus a confirmatory question put to me.

Thankfully, i was packing his lunch and did not have to look at him directly. 

"You have asked a very difficult question sweetie..."

Without waiting for me to say any further, he went on, "Because they had a meeting for locals day before yesterday..."

"What meeting?"

"That they should be wearing the national dress for the National Day celebration..."

He trailed off...

This made me realise how difficult it is to explain to expat children that the place where they were born, are being raised  and have their home is actually just a temporary destination in the big picture. Gulf expats live an intricate dual life, which is both, a blessing and a curse. We call our home-country 'home', and yet, spend our silver, golden and diamond years making  UAE our home....

To honour, celebrate and understand the life of Gulf Expats better, I am embarking on a personal journey, On My Way Home.

It is the story of just one of thousands of Gulf expats who make Dubai their home, and yet have no home at the end of their long journeys. Uma and Neel are in the process of meeting the same fate...the question is, which is that one place they can call 'home' in their twilight years? Will they ever find it, or will they forever be travelling back and forth? Will it be 'home is where the heart is', or will it be the heartaches that are in store for them?

To read the first few chapters, please go to the link below and click to read- I look forward to your comments on my blog re the book, and rest assured, each one of them will be precious to me :))

http://authonomy.com/books/46210/on-my-way-home/

Your comments will be the best feedback i will have as i develop the story further...

A bit MORE about the book: 

Name: On My Way Home

Genre: Fiction

Theme: The theme is very close to my heart and i relate to it as much as other expats anywhere at all...
The story takes you through the couple, Neel and Uma's life, the reason for making the choices they made, their losses, their gains, their lost loves, their yearnings, an eternal confusion...in short, it is a journey of discovering life.

It is a work of imagination, and under process right now, but a lot of it is based on real life experiences over the last 15 years - experiences of friends, colleagues, neighbours, and total strangers who were generous with sharing their stories. 

Please let me know what you think of it....whether it is too bland, too sweet, too salty? In the end, if you do not enjoy reading it as much as i am enjoying writing it, it is just not worth it!

Looking forward to your feedback...

N.B.: you do not have to register at Authonomy to read the book- just click on the link above.

Thank you all for your support,

Monika.

Promises to Keep...

I am one of those people who believe that everything happens for a reason. and i have to admit, sometimes i wish it didn't! But when your belief system accompanies you to the radiologist's office (and all the way into the cold, sterile room with scary looking machines and white gowns!!), it can make you feel very very scared.

As it is, October gives me jitters- so when i prepared to go to the radiologist's for my mammogram; i was not sure why i had to hear a conversation of two women in the car park about someone having cancer, or the week before why did i pick (of all the books) The Emperor of Maladies (and then put it back because i did not want to feel scared or depressed any more than i already was), why did i meet this woman in the waiting area at the hospital who has had multiple surgeries on different parts of her body and has now given up on hospitals and doctors- and was there for a Compression Mammogram and possibly, a core biopsy.........needless to say, as much as i tried to stay upbeat, the belief that everything happens for a reason, filled me with a lot of fear. I asked if i was being prepared for something? I wondered if i was just being cautioned that really bad things do happen to people and it is important to take care of yourself? Or what?

In the moments leading to the machine,  I promised myself that if everything comes out alright with me, I am going to live a fuller life. I promised:

1. I am going to start using cosmetics.

(ridiculous as it may sound- i am pretty anti-chemicals, especially unnecessary chemicals- so I have always tried to stay away from them as much as possible, even at the cost of looking the way i do!)

2. I will buy a bright red Clinique lipstick and use it too.

(Silly it might seem, but the only time i forgave myself for using such a bright red colour was at my wedding! But what the heck...here is my chance again!!)

3. I will spring clean my cupboard- promise, finally.

(I had been meaning to do it for over two months- but it always took a backseat...)

4. I will wear the stilettos i had bought on an impulse.

(I am no fashion model, so at my age, as much as i am still in love with all colours of shoes, i stick to the comfy ones- but this black pair- i just could not resist- it is time to air it now...)

5. I will watch more movies, but preferably if they are off beat or comedies.

6.I will join that Drama group that i have been secretly wishing to join for over a decade...just to know what is it all about, whether i fit in anywhere (i doubt- but still!)...it is all about living one's life, no?

7. And most importantly, i will start devoting a fixed time DAILY to my pet project- a project that has theoretically been in my hands ever since i can remember but that still has to see take a tangible form...

8. Oh yes, and that eating healthy and going for Yoga lessons promise--- how did i forget that?

As i made these promises to myself, i realised, how much can fear make me do. The fear of being trapped in the endless medical treatments- the doctors asking you to keep coming back for follow ups and repeat MRIs even when you know that the whole medical industry is just that now- a money-based industry, the fear of losing the quality of life, the fear of upsetting the life of my loved ones...fear is more powerful than anything else. It made me realise the worth of all the blessings in my life- everything that i had taken for granted, everything that i had had the choice and the option to postpone until the next day, next week, next month, next year...

I am praying and hoping to face my fears, and fulfil the promises i made to myself (a lot more came to my mind as i travelled back home)...if only the mammogram results come out absolutely clean....(keeping my fingers crossed!)

Aiyyaa Part 2- Issued in the interest of General Public

I was asked to go and watch Aiyyaa since i had written about it. So we spent an evening in an almost empty theatre (but then, it was a weekday evening!) watching the movie whose songs (except a stupid 'What to do' song!) have quite grown on me (Dreamum is still playing in my head!).

I would like to henceforth share that it is mildly humorous, poorly directed, and could have done better with a more well written script. The first half is a real drag and the only reason to sit through is Rani Mukerji. She is absolutely fabulous, in fact, a real treat to watch; followed by Prithviraj- whom i was watching for the first time, and who, in spite of his limited role in the movie, makes his presence felt, and is very endearing when he finally speaks Hindi in the end! 

In short, if you:

1.  are a die-hard Rani Mukerji fan, and/or
2. can spend the first half munching your popcorn and slurping your Pepsi (the second half is good), and/ or
3. want to see a TDH South star in a Bollywood setting, and/or
4. want to see a 'light', non-sentimental, non-melodrama movie, and/or
5. don't mind spending AED35 on a movie that had potential to be a good comedy but unfortunately only becomes a mild one (it will surely make you laugh a few times in the second half at least :)

then...go ahead and watch it. 

In all, it is a nice attempt to make a comeback, to show the world that she has what it takes to tackle different genres, and all she needs is a good script and a better director...

Statutory warnings :

Mynah is the most irritating character in the movie- so be patient.

It is nothing like The Dirty Picture (THANK GOD FOR THAT!)

Enjoy!!!!! 

To Share or not to Share?

I have always treasured privacy. Call it a side effect of growing up in a literally close-knit big family, but yes, privacy became a big deal for me. I believed that happiness is to be shared but grief is to be kept under lock and key in your heart alone. i believed that you are supposed to face the life with a straight face and strong heart. And that there was nothing in-between.

When i got into 'human-watching', which is actually just sitting and observing people and then using your wild imagination, creating their own stories in your mind based upon your lessons and judgements and prejudices- so very unfair, but fun!- so when i got into this hobby, the one thought that constantly occupied my mind was "what is going on in his/ her body, mind and life right now?"- i would see and think that about anyone and everyone. 

Then on one of my visits to India, i felt like coming out in the open, not keeping any secrets, sharing and sharing openly. I had had severe pain in the neck for a while and the doctors here had only made me go round in circles. So, i was planning to get a check up done in India. 

It felt so liberating. I did not have to make any excuses if i was offered something and i did not feel like having it (nausea!), i did not have to lie if i was giddy from pain in the neck and just could not visit an aunt for lunch, i did not have to visit people i had no desire to visit because they all knew i had this pain in the neck! It was so very liberating. I was less anxious, less worried, and more assured of the support system i had around me.

It was at that point i realised that why not very long ago, people in India were happier than their western counterparts...because not very long ago, ALL the joys and sorrows of one person were joys and sorrows of an entire clan, although it did backfire sometimes- but it saved people from anxiety and depression; it allowed people to ask for help; it allowed people to worry less about their own brood since they knew they had a support system in place. While i was still admiring our 'joint family system', and admonishing myself for always 'wanting my own space', I realised why i became what i became- annoyingly personal. 

Everyone i met asked me the same question, "So how are you now?"

I would take a moment to think how i was, and then reply.

Next, everyone would tell me their own tested and tried doctors and home remedies and alternative therapies and lots of free advice and stories about someone else who went through the same pains and aches.

"Get out of the house."

"Hire a maid."

"Take up a job. It is all in your mind."

"Start regular exercise."

"Just let go."

"Oh, it's nothing- you are a strong girl...just face it."

Typical advice i got from well meaning friends and family and everyone else. And even until now, every time i back home the first question i am asked is, "So, how are you now?"

I know these are well meant concerns, and i should be thankful for that. But i think there comes a point when you know that no one can help you in real terms when it comes to your own health, and it can become very very annoying to be asked the same question, from every single person of my (touchwood!!) big family back home. On the other hand, if i was in their place, and didn't ask about the health or other concerns like financial situation, court case, or any other such problem of a relative or a friend that i was aware of, it would seem rude and selfish and so uncaring....

So now, sitting alone on this table, typing on the computer, i am thinking shouldn't there be a way of offloading your pains without making a fool of yourself? I do not want to be judged or scolded or advised...first i want to be accepted, my problem acknowledged, and then you give me your advice and support; and certainly not pity. A lot many times, free advice is mistaken as 'support' while the real support might mean you sending a cooked dinner when i am not well, you helping me out when i am stuck in traffic and the kids are waiting for me at the doorstep, you letting me wake you up in the middle of the night when my pain needs a visit to ER and i cannot leave the kids alone....

So, is there a middle path really, of sharing and still keeping yourself sane? Or, is it really better to just face it alone, pop all the pills the doctors give you, grovel in agony but put up a cheerful face to the world and just get on with your life?

Octoberfest!

I have a love-hate relationship with October. The weather is changing, a certain something is in the air that i can never find the right word for (and no, it is NOT called virus!), there is a reason to look forward to gorgeous winters over the next 3-4 months, the municipality has already planted marigolds and very soon Dubai will be adorned with colourful petunias and bright yellow auspicious smelling marigolds....I love it all.

And then there is the pink ribbon in October- a reminder of fixing my annual mammogram appointment, my efforts to push it under the carpet by thanking God when the lady at the hospital tells me that the next appointment is only available after 14 days, living in continuous fear of discovering 'something' sinister, and then of course the inevitable bouts of flu around the house- thanks to the changing weather. This is the part i hate.

Don't get me wrong. Active screening and awareness about breast cancer is a great thing...but the fear kills me straight, even without having to listen to the doctor's findings. 

So, it is October again. We have had one course if flu in September through the house, my mammogram is scheduled and I am so very scared about that. 

I have decided that this time if the doctor calls me in again and while filling my history asks me if i smoke or drink, i will take that as a 'sign' and start doing both, or one...coz she will only call me if she has a reason to believe that my vegetarian diet and a teetotaller lifestyle has not helped my worst fears to vanish in thin air....then finally; i will have a valid reason to argue (with myself) that life is too short to be spent picking and choosing what to eat or drink or wear or believe in....life is too short to hate or love a month in the calendar, then finally, may be i will forgive October and move on to November....