Our knights in shining BMWs...

I can never forget that afternoon. As i came home for my 3-hour break, i saw a stretcher near the lift. I thought someone was sick in the building and yes, it dawned on me, that i had seen an ambulance and a police patrol car outside in the open parking. As we got ready to have lunch, we had no idea what had happened in the building while we were at work. Never before had i had a police officer knocking at our door, and that too in Dubai? We were more surprised than scared. Even before we had time to react, our home had been 'searched' inside out!

"What’s wrong?" was our obvious question, still unaware.

"Nothing! Don’t worry- just don't go anywhere till we tell you to."

"But we have to go back to work" we had no clue why all this was happening.

"Call them and tell them you cannot!" and he left. He was not scary. On the contrary, he was very polite. What was scary was our ignorance of the fact that something really bad had happened that morning in our building and as the residents were coming back from their work, schools and daily errands, the police was asking them all to stay put in their homes.

Around evening, we were all called downstairs and told to go to a specific police station- everyone, including the elderly and the kids. I had never been to one (and i am utterly grateful to God for that!), and it seemed strange sitting there with all the people - people i didn’t even know lived in my building, people i had seen off and on in the lift, people i was friendly with- everyone. No one knew what to expect. Finally, we  were called in for...finger printing. 

While talking to other neighbours, it finally poured out. There had been a murder in the building that morning, and we all were being treated equally- as suspects- till the police completed its investigations. The whole exercise finished at around 10pm that night. That was my first interaction with Dubai Police, and it did not leave any impression- neither positive nor negative. I had always believed that the farther you stay from Police, the better it is.

Within the next two days, we heard that the murderer had been 'caught' while trying to flee the country. That was  my first positive impression of the efficiency of the Dubai Police. I had never before seen a more polite Police, i had never before heard of a case being 'solved' so soon.

 Fast forward to this week, a gap of almost 14 years.  A friend’s house was broken into the other night and the thieves, two people on tourist visa, were booked and all the stolen goods recovered from them in the shortest time i have ever heard!

 When my bag was stolen from a mall a couple of years back, i had to go to the Police Station a second time, and i can tell you that visiting that place is never easy- it fills you with a strange dread, makes you ask yourself if you have ever done anything wrong at all. At the same time, you can thank God that you are dealing with Dubai Police. There is no competition when it comes to their polite, confident, and courteous dealing. I think, if i knew Arabic, i would have felt even more comfortable, though most of the officers did speak Urdu/ Hindi. 

I never got my bag or my documents or my phone back, but a lot of feedback from people who were not in the wrong but on the wrong side of the table with the Police, and my own personal impressions tell me that the Police of the world have a lot to learn from our very own Dubai Police. This Police has changed my whole perception of what a Police is. Even though I still believe that the lesser you ‘need’ to get involved with  the police, the better, I am sure i am not the only one who regards Dubai Police as one of the best, if not the best. Our laws might be a bit unclear sometimes, and fast changing at other times, and sure, it would be extremely unfortunate for anyone to get into a problem with the law; especially here, but our Police excels at what it is supposed  to do- enforce those laws without unnecessarily scaring the people. I am sure more people look at the Police here as someone who could really help them when they get stuck (and not only in the sand!), as someone they need not fear if they have done nothing wrong, a Police whose amazing work and attitude needs all the recognition and appreciation from the people it strives to keep safe- us!

If only everyone did their jobs as seriously and as honestly, the world would be a near-perfect place....

The nosy ones in your life!

There are friends, neighbours, relatives, colleagues and acquaintances; and then, there are nosy friends, neighbours, relatives, colleagues and acquaintances! I prefer the first type. However, i have come to understand that the latter type has its own plus points!

As a brand new bride, visiting my family for the first time after marriage, the one common question a lot of these people in my life asked me was, “You’re happy na?" It took me a few moments to answer that question, because it was so deep. Marriage changes you, your whole existing world, and how do you decide in a few days, weeks or even months really if you are happy post-marriage, and how do you not confuse the adjustment period, that is for sure a difficult one, with unhappiness? I hope my brief silence while answering that question was not seen as my 'unhappiness'.
A couple I know haven’t been able to start a family even many years post marriage due to some medical issues. I have never asked them about it but i have seen aunties asking the lady, "Any luck?", "What did the doctor say?”, “Why don’t you see so and so doctor?” , “Adoption?” etc. etc. I am not sure they appreciate having to answer the same questions again and again, i am sure though that their privacy should have been respected. If they feel up to it, if they feel they can talk to anyone about that matter, it is up to them. But no…there is no respite from people who think it their birthright to interfere in other people’s lives, or on a more sincere note, may be they actually mean good but their tact needs a lot more polish.
"Oh, she is here...how nice. Her husband has also come?" (The secret thought in my mind is, if he had come, you'd have seen him!)
"So, when are you going to your in-laws place?" (because if i am not, their interpretation is, "Don't know what is wrong- her husband does not come here, she does not go there...")
"When is your son coming back, or is he going to stay there only?" (I am sure, in their heart of hearts, this nosy neighbour/ relative is hoping that the son does not come back, so they will always have something to gossip about!)
"Oh, the boy is an NRI..but do check properly...we have heard enough stories..." (secretly hoping they also find a NRI boy for their girl!)
I have been asked this on every birthday and anniversary by a particular person, ever since i came to know her, “So, what did you get as a gift?" It is not a significant question as such, but i did not wish to share it with anyone. I wondered, why was she asking me that question, year after year,  when i had never asked her the same?
and then  there are extremes, (it really does get hilarious!)

"She has come from Dubai?” this question is directed at my parents. The next one is for me,

“How much gold did you bring beta?",
and all i can do is  try to keep my open (in awe of this talent!) mouth shut! It is a talent that i do not have- the art of being so direct that it leaves the other person literally speechless.

There is a very thin line between natural curiosity and unjustified interference. These people cross that line. I guess it would have been better if people had a cleaner heart when they asked these questions. If they just said, "let me know if you need any help..." it would be far less interfering and interrogative in anyway than rubbing salt on someone's existing wounds or fishing for someone's personal life details for judgement and gossip.

On the brighter side, such nosy people are constant reminders that there are non-nosy people too- your real well-wishers who do not probe unless you are ready to share your life with them,  and who appreciate the privacy that you need, and who let YOU draw that line yourself. They might test your patience but they teach you how to handle them too. Besides, gossip always has a short life! And, anyway, who cares??

Let's meet for a cup of tea!

"Let's meet for coffee then", is the most usual invitation exchanged these days, usually referring to a couple of hours catching up with an old friend or acquaintance at a Starbucks or Cafe Coffee Day or Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf, or for that matter anywhere. Whatever happened to our favourite cup of tea? From the time the English teacher gave us a paragraph writing task on how to prepare a cup of tea; tea became a mysterious, divine cup of liquid. To stay awake during exams, to catch up with friends on first night of the new term, to enjoy a night of family conversations, to watch TV waiting for someone to come home- a cup of tea fit the bill wonderfully. Not too much caffeine, not too much sugar- just a desi cup of perfect chai! From the college canteens to the tea from a much stained pan of the tea stall owner in the University compound; from Rainbow (condensed milk) wali chai to the ginger or cardamom tea, it has survived the newer forms of coffee being invented every day.

It is not to say that coffee never worked its way through my heart. It did, for a while. Studying literature, I did fall in love with the frothy, hand beaten coffee- it added to the romance that the books exuded. It put in place the perspective of the novels we studied, which were all invariably set in the West. And, whoever has had a cup of coffee at the Indian wedding receptions will agree, they are a different breed altogether!

And yet, a cup of tea says more than it intends to. The tea with pakoras in the rain, the tea after the pakoras in the rain;  the morning tea; breakfast tea; the most desirable mug of tea when your new born baby has just gone to sleep; the tea before bed! There is a cup of tea for every occasion and every moment of life. I miss the fact that no one meets up for tea anymore! Just plain, simple tea.

One of our professors used to say “What is the big deal with an invitation for tea? Just take out 2-3 varieties of biscuits and serve with tea!” That’s how tea used to be, and probably still is, in all the government organisations and the neighbourhood satsang mandalis! With kitty parties and book clubs and other forms of social interactions taking over the social scene of home-makers, the humble tea slowly became the stressful ‘high tea’! Stressful because it now meant that you do not need to prepare dinner but 'as good as dinner’, heavy snacks of ample variety. More formal, less personal.

My simple cup of tea with little milk and a spoonful of sugar has either become extinct or too heavy in the world outside home. I am thinking, "Let's meet for juice" is the next best invitation then!

Exchange Policy

"I think we should have waited for the colour", i remarked as i parked the car. It is a good thing i was driving and not him. I could hear the screeching brakes that he would have applied.
He did look at me in disbelief though, "It is not a sari! It is a car!!!", referring to the car we had driven from the showroom only a day before.
"Yes, i know- but i did not really like the colour" i said, knowing that my desirable colour would have meant a wait of another 2 months.
"....." he was still looking at me in disbelief, that look meaning, "You are impossible!!!!"

I know i should have said those words before agreeing to buy the colour i only partially liked- it IS  a car, and not a sari afterall! But there is really something to it- when you bring something home and look at it, it almost always seems that  the other colour or the other design or the other brand was better, whatever the parameters.

The first thing i check when i enter a store is their 'Exchange Policy'. It is a good thing we get 14 days to make up our mind, and if it is a 'sale’ item, 3 days- understandably so- they need to move their stock too! Even back home, i remember always asking the retailer if i could exchange the dress or the material  if 'we' do not like it, 'we' referring to everyone at home saying "It is nice!". 

I think that is also one of the reasons why i have my favourite jeweller- they also have an 'exchange policy'- and only a woman can appreciate what that means when it comes to jewellery. We spend a lot of time liking one piece and then buying it- but no sooner do we reach home than we take it out and start scrutinising it- "I think the other one was better..."- "i think the making charges were lesser in that", or, "i think i should have bought a 'daily wear' one- this is too heavy."

The reasons  are endless- colour, style, pricing, value for money, versatility, or just that indecision between white and pink, or, black and navy! The result though is that i have more credit notes from various retailers in my bag than the currency notes!

Frustrating, as it is, for my spouse, it has been told to me in no uncertain terms that he is not coming along for exercising my right to 'exchange' under the terms of respective 'Exchange Policies'. I don't mind doing it on my own. I am wondering though, who will i blame for the choice if i do not like the 'exchanged' item too?

'Bare' minimum!

Visiting a doctor is never a happy occasion. However, as I am discovering now, it still provides healthy fodder for writing and learning!

 E.g., I just discovered that when you visit your doctor for any complaint, you could be subject to any level of investigation. And therefore, you should always go as if you are going to work, or to visit a friend- basically; neat, clean and dressed appropriately. Whether the doctor decides to do an ECG for you, or a session of physiotherapy, or just a physical check-up, you do not want that nurse to think you do not take care of yourself or that you do not practice hygiene. (Read- wax, wax, wax!!!!, or deo, deo deo!!!!- as the case may be!).
 I once asked the friendly physiotherapist at the clinic what she thought about all the different forms of flesh that she treated day in and day out (i thought 'forms of flesh' was more impersonal than 'bodies'). She told me that it does not even matter to her. When she sees a patient, she sees the muscles and the tendons and exercises that will help those muscles and tendons and nothing else. That was good to know!
I guess it is the same thing with doctors and the nurses then. They see so many bodies in some kind of physical pain or the other, day in and day out, that it does not matter to them whether you are beautiful or ugly, man or woman, young or old, black or white, taut or wrinkled.....
I think it is in our minds- because thankfully, we do not see doctors or nurses or therapists or radiology technicians every day. There is a certain hesitation to have to bare, however minimum it may be,  in front of a stranger, even if that stranger is of the same sex as you are, and even if that stranger is treating you for your health  problems!  And so, it is a comfort to know that they do not judge us by the shape we are in, or the make-up we are not wearing or the waxing appointment we could not make to.
Living here, it is a privilege to be able to ask for a female doctor or technician. Even when there is no choice, it is mandatory that a female staff be present when the doctor is examining you. That makes things easier for sure. However, experience tells me that when you look at the doctor as the doctor, and not as a man or woman, you will feel more at ease and less conscious. The rule to stay clean,  and look clean is still applicable though, for your own conscious self!

The 'Gas Connection'!

It is a familiar scenario. Known, experienced, survived!

In all my married, and hence 'cooking' (in the kitchen) years, it has always happened when either i have guests at home, or the kids are about to go to school, or i am midway serving them their food, or some weird moment like that- it is eerie how that gas cylinder picks the oddest moment to declare it has expired!

It is like God playing his mischievous self, for a change! Why else would the gas finish only when you are desperately making a cup of tea? Or the chapati is half cooked? Or the rice is half boiled? Or worse, when it is past the gas company's delivery time and you have to wait until 9 next morning! How do you send the kids to school next morning?

We have other options like microwaves, and electric hot plates and best of all, home delivery menus. But i have yet to learn the art of making a perfect chapati in a microwave. Hot plates have to be installed when i chose gas instead. Home delivery options do not work for 6.30am school-lunch delivery!

We beg, we plead, we threaten, we plead again...."Please, please, please- can you not deliver the gas now?"
"No, I need it now!!!"
"I cannot wait until tomorrow morning."
"What is your cut-off for delivery time- it is not even 8! I have seen your delivery vehicles even later at night in our area!"

But no! They leave their stickers with all the numbers on it on your gas cupboard but when you need a new cylinder, not one of these delivery companies are willing to come. And their excuses are unique:
"I have finished all the cylinders now- new cylinder will be filled only in the morning."
"I just came from that area..."
"Our cut off time is 5pm"
And the best is,
8pm: "I am coming...",
9pm: "I am on my way."
10pm: "He has not reached as yet? I told my colleague to come there..."
 11pm": " It is too late- the Security will not allow us to come now..."
It allows him to buy time and lets you pass your time in the hope of his arrival. Finally, you understand that he outsmarted you and now it is actually so late that no one else will deliver either- so you have no option but to wait it out until next morning!
You will be lucky if your neighbourhood supermarket is still open to pick some bread and croissant for kids' breakfast while you wait for the gas delivery van and a new phone number on your gas cupboard!

Moral of the story: many!
1. Always keep a loaf of bread at home! You can use it instead of chapati in such emergencies.
2. Always keep fresh fruits, juices and again, bread at home- they come in handy for kids' lunch boxes when the gas cylinder ditches you!
3. Always have extra cash at home- the prices of gas have been steadily increasing! You do not want the guy to come and not deliver the cylinder only because you did not have enough cash!
4. Cook before 5 pm! So, even if the gas finishes at 8, you only have to worry about the next morning then!
5. Last, and most important, take it as an opportunity- to 'fast', to eat out, to go light (by eating only fruits and salad),  to have a long conversation....depending upon your personal appetite!

The Gora Beggar, and after that...

There is one image that i can never forget- that of a white (a gora, a Westerner) beggar on the steps of Har ki Pairi in Hardwar, India. He was filthy in his appearance- matted hair, dirty clothes, long beard, and long nails- and was begging for food from a fellow beggar. The fellow beggar treated him with respect, as is the tendency in the ex-colonies of the British Empire (first reaction: the colour of the skin still gets more respect than the merit of the person).

 The only thing that came to my mind was a string of questions:

 "Why is he here? How is he here? Where has he come from? Has he lost his passport? Why did he choose to beg here instead of going home, where he was born and brought up and work like normal people? Is this his spiritual journey? Or has he gone mad en route?"

I have no clue what happened to him thereafter. But that image has never left my mind. The West comes to the East thinking and seeking spiritual peace and happiness. Was this really his quest for peace that landed him on those holy steps and led him to begging?

To me, the only reason people in the East seem more contented and happy is because of our faith system. We place our trust, besides God, in our rivers, stones, trees, animals- anything and everything. Ganga, among many others, is a holy river; even though we lack the civic sense to keep our rivers clean in the first place. Our Gods use various animals as their vehicles, so we come to respect them automatically- be it Nandi, the bull; Mooshak, the mouse; Sher, the lion of the Lion goddess; or the snake, the ornament around Lord Shiva’s neck….

We believe that someone out there, our revered God or Goddess is looking after us. It is the same faith the kids have in their parents. Our daily life reflects our faiths. We pray, we 'fast', we do rituals, we believe in magical powers of that black thread, or the black mark on the forehead to ward off the evil eye, we believe in the all-healing powers of our Gods more than we believe the doctors or science or anything man made.

It is the healing power of faith that helps people survive in the middle of abject poverty, extreme hunger, deprivation, and disease. It is that faith that someday, in this life or the next; everything is going to be alright. In fact, as a part of our faith system, we even ‘bribe’ God! Unbelievable as it may sound,  we do it so regularly-

“If I score an A-grade in this exam, I will come to your temple for the next 4 Mondays!” (Or, Tuesdays, or Fridays...)

“If my blood test reports all come out fine, I am going to light a diya (the prayer lamp) in front of You every day.”

“If I get this contract, I am going to do a big ‘Jagrata’ (an overnight celebration of the Goddess’ powers by singing devotional songs) in your honour, dear Goddess.”

“If this family says ‘Yes’ for my daughter, I am going to give langar (free food) to all the beggars in the town.”

“I am going to fast for 16 Mondays so I get a good husband.”

“If you do this, I will come bare feet to your temple…”

We negotiate with God, we try to lure Him by making our promises to return His favours, we fight with Him when He does not do as we thought He would or He should, we question Him when we are doubting our faith practices, but in the end, we believe in Him and His intentions and we hope He will take us through all the tests that He presents us with in the first place.

As I continue my own quest for peace, I understand that that faith helps me let go of my tensions- and i put it on Him to look after me once again- it is really as simple as that...

Belated Apology

I forgot my friend's daughter's birthday, in spite of remembering it rest of the year round!
I forgot to return a borrowed pair of shoes back in University, in spite of seeing them every day in my room.
I forgot my colleague's birthday too- only because i was away on leave and was not checking FB regularly. On any other day, you could ask me and i would know for sure when she cuts her cake!
I forgot my friend's anniversary, only to ask my husband a couple of days later if it was the 22nd today! "Oh God! I forgot V's wedding anniversary, again!"

What is worse is, i haven’t made amends. Not because i did not want to but because i was too embarrassed in the first place. I was too embarrassed to admit that i was so busy in my life that i forgot important days in my friends' and relatives' lives. I could have made amends, following the adage "Better late than never", but it never seemed right enough and it just kept on getting late and later and latest.
In hindsight though, it seems it would have been really a good idea to follow that adage.
 It would have been less damaging.
It would have been better than my friend thinking on my kid's birthday, "She never remembered my child's birthday, why should i remember her child's?”
 It would have been better than my other friend thinking "She 'kept' my shoes!" when i didn’t. I was so embarrassed at the delay in returning her shoes that i just did not have the courage and in the end, just before leaving the hostel, i gave them away to one of the helpers there.
Just before i wrote this post, I made my first such amend. I had missed wishing a senior colleague on his special day, because i simply didn’t get a chance todo so on that particular day. But I wrote to him today to let him know that our best wishes were just a little late. It has been easier than having to explain later, more out of guilt rather than anything else,  all that contributed to forgotten birthdays and anniversaries and everything else in between.
So, this is my open apology to all my friends and relatives and colleagues and acquaintances-
"No, i did not forget it. I just could not wish you on your special day for reasons i have forgotten myself now. So, just so you know- best wishes, always!"

The 'Speaking' Shopping Trolley

All the Carrefour counters had long queues. It did not matter which one i was in- it would always seem to move slower than all the others. Standing with a trolley full of grocery, i was irked by this lady who shoved her way into the queue. No apologies, no sign language of politeness. I decided to keep quiet- she had just a few items in her trolley.
As the queue moved slowly, she started getting impatient. We happened to make eye contact and she made a hand gesture to show that she had a flight to catch. I looked at her trolley again- she was carrying chocolates- Toffifee, Lindt, Quality Street, and surprisingly, a couple of kilos of ginger. I concluded, may be ginger is not so easily available at her destination. The lady seemed Iranian from the way she was wearing her head scarf, but i could be wrong. She managed to cut the queue once again, and thanked me, for our mute conversation, in a language i did not understand.
As she was paying, i looked around at the trolleys around me. It was sea, an ocean and yet, each one so distinctive. Trolleys spoke so much about the person/ family towing it, paying for its contents.

The gentlemen ahead of me seemed to have just moved here because they were buying mop, clothes stand, ironing board, ready-made pizza, bath robe...

The trolley in the next queue was full of butter- yes, packs and packs of a Danish brand of butter. The wildest guess was that the guy owned a shop elsewhere and was buying butter in bulk here to save money.

The trolley behind me definitely belonged to a family that was not vegan. There were packs of meat in different forms, milk, bread, eggs, some fruits, packs of chips and long life juices. And then there was another one that had bought clothes in bulk.

It was so interesting, so educating in a way. Yet, at the same time, i wondered if i would like to be assessed, judged, and inferred by anyone based upon the contents of my trolley. I am pretty sure i do not want to tell a stranger or even an acquaintance the brand of rice i eat, the soap i buy, the shampoo  i use, the cereal  i prefer, or the fruits i can afford (thanks to most fruits now priced at AED 25 and above!)- they are all too personal....
I think, just like the family cabins in the restaurants, the check-out counters should be closed cabins (weird thought, i know!), giving us the privacy of our decisions.

Calling the Call Centre...do you have what it takes???

For all of those who think they have mastered Patience, here is a test: call Global VFS at their Call Centre if you have any questions about UK visa, and they give you a free 'Patience test'. I passed it with flying colours- my record: 180 minutes, and still waiting on number one now- and i was the 8th caller in the queue when i started! The reward: a bit disappointing. I was hoping there will be a grand announcement, a certificate or something, but i learnt, the fact that you get to talk to the 'representative' is THE reward! Besides, there is a feel-good factor if you are calling from your landline (at least you didn’t waste your mobile recharge waiting for your turn!).

People complain about Customer Care standards in Dubai. I think they are one of the best, compared to what we see back home. Yet, that is no excuse for the terrible Call Centres here. My bank has made all calls to its call centre chargeable and it comes with a guarantee that you will be in the queue for a minimum of 30 minutes!  

Similarly, the pizza company is prompt at taking the order but wouldn’t pick your call when you want to check if they are still ordering the dough from Italy, 1 hour after placing the order.

Try calling the telecom company, and they pass their test of frustrating the customer beyond imaginable limits with the same flying colours!

Come to think of it, with our patience being tested on a daily basis, should we be thanking all these so called service providers for improving our sense of calm and composure? The thing about a normal phone line was that nobody kept on thanking you for your patience and increasing your blood pressure. No one told you that your call will be connected in exactly 30 minutes or 30 seconds, or that you are at what number...if the phone was busy, you would call back later...simple. The level of precision, or the intention to improve the positive attitude of the customer by putting them on waiting line, was beyond the capabilities of a normal customer -care phone number.

At the same time, the more i think about it, the more it appears that this is all a trick to frustrate the customer so much that he hangs up the line, and they do not have to answer our queries. Or, is it a signal that we should take our business elsewhere- be it the bank, the pizza company, the telecom company, the country you are planning to visit for a holiday....as a customer, thankfully, sometimes, we do have options. We are just too lazy to explore them!

Rx: New Love!

Have you ever been prescribed 'Love'? Yes, i am serious. Ever?
Well, ever since i have been, my husband forbade me to visit the same doctor again, and my friends have been asking me about the doctor's contact details!

It is not what it looks like really...precisely why they said, "Don’t judge a book by its cover." But still, when
I went to consult the Orthopaedic for a nagging neck pain; all he prescribed me for relief was a 'New Love'!
One look at my neck, and without an X-ray he said, "It is a spasm, some stiffness, some knots in the muscle there...do you work?"
I wondered, as i always do when someone asks me that question, if my Freelance work really counts as 'work'. In the end, i just said, "Freelance".
"Hmmm...” i think he too wondered whether to consider it as serious work or a time-pass fascination of a housewife! Nevertheless, he continued, "I think you just need to find a new love..."
My mind did not wait for him to finish. It went in overdrive and started racing...
"New love? Is he mad? Not that i would mind being the centre of the universe once again, not that i would mind receiving all those lovely notes and attention, not that i would mind looking forward to meeting someone everyday........." i think i was smiling at that point, "but wait!!!!!", i heard the brakes, "i am not a young, single woman anymore", that was my head talking now, "I have a husband, kids, a home....as much as the idea of love is tempting, it is just not worth it! I am very happy with what i have been blessed with...thank you very much!"
Yes, i had made up my mind. Thankfully, before I opened my mouth to reprimand the doctor, i heard him say, "Find a group activity. Join a gym, an art class, anything- anything that will make you meet more people...it is just stress!"
"Oh! Stress!” i thought, "when i was working i had stress, when i am not working i have stress..."
"I didn’t know stress can cause all this...” i said to the doctor.
"Oh yes, stress can manifest itself in many ways other than BP or heart conditions...."

As I left the clinic, i walked home that 30-minute walk, thanking God that it was still not too hot to walk. On my way, everyone i saw seemed okay as far as stress is concerned. People in their cars, nannies pushing the prams, gardeners rushing on their bicycles, and various service providers entering and exiting the communities en route. I wondered if they were happier doing what they were doing, or happier just because they were doing something? I wondered if a 'coffee morning' was more de-stressing or having a coffee on your way to work? I wondered if too much work was stressful or doing nothing all day long. Who is not stressed really? The unmarried are stressed because they want to get married, the married  have their own stress, the divorced are under stress becuase they want a new companion, the kids are strssed out because they are kids and have to go by their parents' and teachers' ways, the elderly are stressed because their younger generation does not 'listen to them' anymore, the boss is stressed and stresses the suordinates- exactly, who is NOT stressed?
I am sure this prescription will work for just about everyone, as long as it is not taken literally!
For me, I have concluded that I need to push myself out of my cocoon every morning, count my blessings, work the work that makes me happy and focus on the goodness of life.
And yes, my husband also changed his mind about the doctor after listening to the whole advice!

I confess...i pretend!

I have been taught to pretend. And i am sure everyone is. It is a part of our growing up.
"Smile and say hello when the guests come," i am teaching my brood to pretend, pretend to be happy when we socialise with people other than they know, or are friendly with.

"Oh, he knows all the poems! Chalo beta, recite that Red Balloon one for uncle-auntie", haven’t we all gone through it? For the sake of our parents and avoiding a lecture later, we all have endured being the unwanted performer in front of an uninterested audience.

"That house is your home now. Stay true to both the homes my child," is the usual parting advice to brides in our country. And yet, from when she comes back for her first visit after the marriage to whenever she comes later, everyone tries to find the inside secrets of her new family.
"How is your sister-in-law? Does she take all your clothes?"
"How is your mother-in-law? Does she help you or you have to do everything?"
"What? They drink every night? OMG!!!"
The bride, however, is generally trained to pretend, and pretends that all is fine. All is well. The mother laments that her daughter does not share anything with her anymore, and by that she actually means that she does not tell her any problems that she is facing in her other home. The mother-in-law fears that her daughter-in-law will go and share the family issues with her parents and the matter will be aggravated. The bride fears that one day she will lose her mind in the middle of these two mothers! Nobody told her that marriage was a tough thing, much more than the nice clothes and jewelry and the happy send-off and promises of love.

"Oh, my wife is a great cook" boasts the man in front of his boss, even though he knows his wife got migraine attack at the mere mention of having his boss over for a formal dinner.
"Oh, it is all my pleasure", gushes the wife when the boss and his wife thank her for having taken all that trouble.

"Hey, why don’t you stay with us?" the husband screams on the phone to his long-lost friend who has bothered to call him only when he is planning to visit the city. There is no space in the house to have house-guests but they do host them, all the while pretending what a pleasure it has been to host them and meet them after decades of  hibernation.

I am sure i am not the only one who is the dutiful bahu when one of her in-laws visit and the in-control daughter when someone from her 'own' side visits. The same holds true for our spouses.
At least one of these is a facade, or are we really so unbelievably perfect?

"I am so sorry...I already have guests coming over this weekend", we pretend to have a perfectly busy social life when we are invited to a party we hardly want to go, even though we will spend the weekend grumpily in front of the tv.

Sometimes, it is tempting to stay true, to not pretend anymore. But i realise that that would mean less headache for me but more heartache for many more people in my life.

So, you see- we are a species who pretend. We pretend to be happy, sad, innocent, demanding, accommodating, furious and all things in between. We are positive thinking personified. How? Don't all of those books tell us to believe the make-believe- "Believe you are happy and you will feel happy!", "Believe you are fine, and you will feel fine!”
We believe our pretence because it is a way of life. The only way to wade through those muddy, confusing waters of life we call a journey!

Chaat- the distinctive Indian treat!

I had the opportunity to spend my growing years in a very lively corner of the town. 15 years since I have left the town, and it is still the liveliest place closer to home. There is everything that the people of a small town need there- a couple of Pharmacies, tailor, groceries, photographers, snack shops, DVD shop, etc. etc. The most distinctive shop, however, has been a chaat shop. The Panna Chaat shop. Having enjoyed the gol-gappas, tikkis and papri chaats in abundance from there, i no longer really crave it but it is some kind of an icon nonetheless, a thread that binds all of our age group in the town. We all have been there- for birthday treats, exam-treats, just-like-that treats, on an impulse, to follow someone entering that shop...the reasons have been endless! It is still the best chaat-shop in town.

Over the years, everytime i have passed by that shop, looking at the crowd of young girls with their moms, teenage boys, couples with young kids, newlyweds, I have had just one thought...what is it that this chaat gives them, all of them? It had to be beyond its trademark flavour or the buzz of that square. It had to be something that has contributed to this shop's long life and reputation.

After years of pondering, I have come to the conclusion that in a small town, with our mundane lives and the monotonous routines, the chaat with its tangy and spicy flavours gives us something new to feel. It breaks that monotony. It allows us to be happy for much less, even if for a very short period of time. It adds variety to the boring daily life of an average middle class person. It hits a desire for the fresh, better, new, different, yummy, spicy...in pretty much the same way gossip does for most women!

Yes, it feeds a desire.

At the same time, it allows us to really enjoy that moment when we drink that sweet-sour water with the gol-gappas or enjoy the smooth yoghurt on the papri chaat...its tanginess akin to the tanginess we crave in our lives when we see the grass always green on the other side, or the gol gappa bigger in the other's plate!

Happy 'Chaatting'!

Living the World Cup fever in India!

I missed being in India last night. There is no place like home to watch the World Cup- each palpitation is loud enough and the collective palpitation can be heard and felt all around- the sighs for a 'bad' one and the crackers for every four or sixes! I was there during the India -Pakistan semi-final and never before had I witnessed such madness for a sport. The streets, as predicted, started getting lonelier after 2.30pm. The women were busy preparing for the evening- "Men folk are going to be at home watching the match- they will need a constant supply of savouries...” told a lady i smiled at acknowledging her purchase of namkeens. From projector screens, large gatherings, constant inflow of tikkis, samosas, dahi-bhallas to chai and pakoras with a small group of friends, or just a drink with a close friend- you could see all varieties glued to their TV sets. This was a war without the traditional arms and ammunition, a war with a different and thankfully, lesser casualties. Nonetheless, this was a war for the national pride. The most exciting match for the Indians. When India won this one, people seemed content- they had won over their arch enemy, this was their World Cup. They went bonkers. Gathering at all the intersecting junctions in the town, waving the national tricolour, blowing trumpets, vuvuzelas and what not, beating the drums, hanging out of their car windows and sun roofs, dancing, bursting crackers, and above all, screaming- just one word- INDIA- everyone, literally everyone went bonkers. What a moment it was, to revel in that happiness, seeing people forget everything else and live that moment to the fullest. It was absolutely amazing being in the middle of that frenzy, and precisely why i missed being there last night!
In anticipation of the match, i was asked two questions that i thought were interesting. First was, if both India and UAE were playing this match, who would i cheer for? Honestly, it was a tough one and yet the obvious one. Tough because i love the country I am in and obvious because this country does not love me yet! So, my loyalty between this country and my own will be with India for sure- the country that i still call 'home' and the country that calls me its citizen and gives me  my rights and responsibilities. I think i would have been confused if I had the nationality of another country...

The second question was a bit shocking for me. Shocking because i had never thought that someone around me could think like this...
"Do you think the Muslims of this country will cheer for India or Pakistan?"
"Of course India!” was my instant reply. "You are confusing religion with national loyalty..."
"May be...but don’t you think people who moved from Pakistan after the partition still think of Pakistan as their home?"
"We too should be cheering for Pakistan then, no?” i said, referring to our roots in the then Punjab that became a part of Pakistan after the partition.
The discussion went on for just a little longer with the conclusion that any hardliner still finds it difficult to alienate religion from rest of what makes an individual. All a fundamentalist sees is who you were born as and not what you have learnt to become besides that.
Thankfully, the match started and the unpleasant discussion was drowned in the answers of  "Who won the toss???"

The Cupboard Saga

It is that time of the year again. No, it is not Diwali yet when you are supposed to spring clean your cupboard, room and home of all the unwanted stuff and make way for Goddess Lakshmi, alias new things! Practically, now, it is all year round. Given the smaller spaces, better affordability and bigger materialistic appetites, the cupboards are ready to fall apart unless they are reviewed every quarter, at the least! One of those quarters is when I visit home. I review the cupboards to see what is 'passable' to whom, age wise, relation-wise and appropriateness wise.
Starting that exercise this morning I realized, I am in a big mess! ‘Water, water everywhere, not a drop to drink!'- That is what it is. My cupboard is overflowing. Overflowing with clothes I might need to wear on one specific occasion or the other, just once or twice in a year! Saris, Salwar-kameez, Western Casuals, office wear, formal Indian wear!!!! Give me a break! When I am here, I wear the stuff everyone wears- western casuals or formal, as the case may be. The saris get worn only twice in a year- but you cannot repeat them! Can you? So, every year you buy those two 'new' saris!! When I go home, Salwar-kurtas seem more appropriate, functional and acceptable. The ones in my cupboard have already gone 'out of fashion'- so do I have a choice but buy new ones when I am there?? And of course, for socialization with 'our' people here, I need to keep a stock of formal Indian wear too!!!!
Every spring cleaning hits me in the face with the clothes which have never been worn and have gone out of fashion in their hangers, the money and time  wasted on buying them, and the fact that I will need to do all this, all over again! So much for adhering to, “While in Rome, do as the Romans do"!

My Dutch neighbour had once remarked that he knew his receptionist was Indian because of the brightly coloured clothes that she wore. He was right! I also wonder sometimes how and why Europeans spend their life wearing whites, blacks, greys and browns. I go berserk looking at the colours in the INdian markets when I go home and end up buying some really bright suits. Once here, i have not dared to wear them even once for the fear of being reported for hurting public sensibilities. 

In the end, my cupboard is as  multihued as it could be- blacks, whites and greys stand right next to the lime greens, baby pinks, fuchsias, turquoise blues and bright oranges. The 6-yard drapeable fabric on the same rod as the tough denim or the softer silk and chiffon. In the end, my spring cleaning will have to go on, and so will my thought-  am i losing myself in a big boiling, frothy, cooking bowl, or am i being open and embracing the different flavours? Whatever it is, one thing is clear- I NEED A BIGGER CUPBOARD!!!!