Today I Was Told...

…I’ve been taking my medication wrong. I need to take it in the morning and not in the evening because what my doctor told me is wrong. You see, if you’ve been taking the same medicine for the last 15 years, you’re automatically made a doctor and the all knowing expert about it. Everyone else is wrong.

…I need to lose weight. Because I don’t know I need to lose weight. I like not having clothes fit me anymore. Also, it’s been a long time since I was this size so I’m shocking people. Oh the horror.

…I should go for my walk in the mornings and not in the evening. Apparently evening walks are only for mental good.  If I need any physical benefit, I need to go in the morning when the body is fresh. Sure. Because I’m the epitome of energy and joy at 6 am. Oh, and I can go back to sleep once I’m done with the walk so that’s supposed to be the silver lining.

…I should eat more fruit. A couple of apples and pomegranates a day isn’t enough. I should be able to put down half a watermelon and/or a whole papaya after every meal to make it count.

…I don’t drink enough water. I have to have a bottle surgically attached to my hand and make sure my kidneys are functioning at their optimum by drinking at least 10-12 litres a day. It doesn’t matter that my kidneys aren’t made to work so much. But so what? I have two.

…Bombay has *so* much variety in crockery. Which is why visitors who come here insist on buying more each time they’re here. Apparently I’ve been doing it wrong. You’re not supposed to make glassware last years on end. No. You’re supposed to buy a new set every year. Didn’t you know?

…My FitFlops aren’t as good as some others. They’re not as comfortable to walk in but where did I get them from? Because *everyone* is wearing them and it would only be right to buy a pair too.

…I have zero fashion sense because at my age I’m not wearing “frocks” when I go out with friends. Kurtis and jeans are for those turning 50. The young don’t wear them.

…I have fat arms. And a big bum. But these are hereditary so I’m not entirely to be blamed. Pitied rather.

…When I get blood tests done, I’m a fool for getting x, y and z tested. I should get only z. So what if all three might be important for a comparative study? Or that the same tube-full of blood can be used for multiple tests? No. I have to save that 100 bucks where I can. Because that 400 bucks on imported oregano (to be used in masala pasta) that was bought simply because it’s imported was plucked off a tree right?

This is day 1. The giver of all this gyan is here for another 2 days. You can imagine just how thrilled I am.

In the Air

So jaded and cynical we have become of life that we’ve forgotten to look for the small joys, hidden as they are. It took me an hour long flight to Ahmedabad to realise this sad truth of our allegedly superior city living.

On the flight was a group of elderly women, on their first plane journey. That they were from a village was obvious from their attire and the fact that excitement hung over their seats like a happy cloud with rainbows streaking through. As the aircraft taxied for take-off, most of the passengers leaned back in their seats, eyes closed, preparing for what was a routine experience. Not these ladies. Childish giggling and whispers could be heard from them even as the aircraft picked up speed and leapt into the air. Oh how I wished at that time that it was my first airplane ride, just so that I could share in what those women were experiencing – unbridled pleasure and glee, untouched by the fake expressions city folk have gotten used to, as they saw the city growing smaller and smaller before their eyes and getting enveloped by fluffy white clouds broken only by arrows of sunshine. Of course, they were also the only ones on the entire aircraft who actually heard what the cabin crew was saying about safety procedures, even looking shocked at the idea of emergency landings.

As we flew to Ahmedabad, I don’t think any of these women sat back in her seat even once. All of them kept leaning towards the window, trying to get a look outside. At one point a cramped version of musical chairs happened when the women exchanged seats so that everyone could get a chance by the window. So much fun. And when the food trolley passed by, it was simply hilarious, their expressions, at hearing the cost of samosas and chai. Of course, there were some aware people in the group. They chose to lecture their friends on how to appear cool about prices when sitting in an aeroplane.

And then there was the new experience of going to the toilet in the air. I think they were waiting for someone to go first, all of them being a little shy. But as soon as the first one got up to go, all of them did. And their faces when they came back! I never realised that the cramped tiny space that passes for a restroom in airplanes could be so fascinating. Of course, i think that some of them went into the lavatory only to be able to describe it for years to come.

On landing, the women burst into spontaneous applause and laughter. Unable to control my curiosity any longer, I leaned forward and asked one of the men accompanying them what this was all about. And the answer thrilled me to no end. These women were all from the same village, most of them related to each other. The men accompanying them were sons, nephews, grandsons who’d decided to give them the experience of a lifetime. Since these women had only heard about, seen planes on tv and in magazines, they’d decided to fly them from Pune to Ahmedabad. In fact, the group was scheduled to take the evening train back to Pune the very same day, having had the best time of their life already.

I’m glad I was on the plane that day. Even today, thinking about that journey, I smile. And I remind myself that flying up there with the clouds is something to be excited about, no matter how jaded I might be on ground. 

Once the seatbelt sign was off, they stood up to look at the clouds  

Preparing to get off the aircraft

Group Photo

For the First Time...

...I’ve felt bad for people living in Bombay. Okay, maybe I feel bad for them (and myself) each time I’m stuck in a horrendous traffic jam in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday, but today I felt sorry for them. An emotion I’d never thought I would feel.

I say them because I don’t live here anymore. Technically. Yes, I may spend quite a lot of time in this city and Bombay will always be home, but I’ve experienced life outside of potholes and traffic jams and muggy weather that makes you want to kill yourself every other day. And I grudgingly accept that it feels good. Sure, I miss the comforts of having everything at your doorstep, and I definitely miss the food. But I’m beginning to realise these are luxuries one can live without.

But I get ahead of myself here. What inspired such feelings was wanting to assuage the building guilt (of living on mithai for the last 2 weeks) by heading out for a walk. But as soon as I’d decided on resuming my evening ritual, I was faced with the problem of where to go. The beach was too wet and littered with plastic from the sea, the roads near home too full of open manholes, crazy traffic and crateresque (yes, it’s a word) potholes. Not to speak of the million and one construction sites that have left a permanent haze of concrete dust in the air. That left a joggers park with a round walking track of some 200 metres as my only option.

So the grandmom (forcibly taken for some exercise) and I get to the park and I realise that (a) all of the senior citizen population of the area were there and (b) most of the under 40 were there too. Walking the track was like walking on Churchgate station at 5.30 pm, dodging people right left and centre in an attempt to get ahead. Of course, most of the elderly were sitting on chairs provided in the park, content to take in some greenery and fresh air and gossip for an hour or two with friends. Some of them were brave enough to venture out for a walk, making their way around the track slowly and steadily. Then there were those who were obviously there on medical advice. There was also the category of walkers who seemed to have lost their way, standing out in their jeans and fancy kurtis. Which left the serious walkers, children and maids with babies in prams.

And this is when I felt sorry for people living in Bombay. And myself. I missed the luxury of stepping out of my house and having all the space in the world to go for a walk. I missed the fresh air, the absence of traffic, the long winding lanes I could go down without worrying about potholes and open drains. I felt sorry for the people in the park then, who had to search for a patch of green and some place to walk without worrying about getting hit by a speeding car. I felt bad for the children who couldn’t run around carefree and untroubled, restricted by the rules of the park and limited to a pair of swings. And I felt some relief that I wasn’t living in Bombay anymore.

Because I can’t imagine being bound by concrete and traffic anymore.

Cut Off

For the second time this week, the phone lines went dead, and with that, the internet. And since my cellphone has no network inside my house, i was basically communicationless, cut off from the world for all practical purposes. 

Now, under normal circumstances, such happenings are most likely to bring out extremely violent reactions in me, with lots of tantrums and tears (of anger) and cussing at the universe. But i think i've been sleepsmoking or something. Because not one moment of crankiness happened when i realised the phone was dead on Saturday evening (after having spent 9 hours at the mall - something I'd rather not talk about till i can do so with good humour) and that there was no way to get it fixed till the weekend was done with. 

And i got so much done. I started and finished reading The Pregnant King by Devdutt Pattanaik all in one day. I doodled after ages and got a lot of artwork for the walls done (just need to get them framed now). I even did a simple DIY project that i'd been thinking about for weeks done. And all i needed for it was an hour that i wasn't online. I'd hoped to get some baking also done but i'm only human right?

So yeah. As much as i hate to admit it, being offline was good for me. And my to-do list. 

Musings in the Dark

For the last hour or so, every 20 minutes, we're plunged into darkness. And silence. Except for the beeping of the UPS and the crickets outside the window. Lit up only by my computer screen and the iPad in the Fellow's hands, the house seems seamless. 

And then the Fellow asks, "What would you do if we were to live without electricity?" I told him we'd light loads of candles and read. Maybe bring out the board games. But he persisted. "Not for a few minutes or hours, but starting now, if you had to go without electricity then what?" 

I told him we would adapt. Like generations before us. Only this time, we'd be adapting to living without electricity as opposed to getting used to it. Adapting to changing times (and technology) is the only reason humans are still around. Otherwise there wouldn't even be a stone age man right? And i'm pretty certain that when electricity  was first brought into the house for things as innocuous as light bulbs, it wasn't received with open, welcoming arms. I'm pretty sure people clung on to their natural light sources as long as they could. 

If today, we're plunged into a world without electricity, I'm quite sure that a lot of us will  cling on to the last vestiges of the battery life on all of our gadgets with as much emotion as Nirupa Roy held her dying sons to her bosom. And then will begin the withdrawal symptoms. But eventually, and i'm guessing it won't take too long, we'll get used to it. We'll adapt. Our grandmoms didn't need a mixer grinder to make the most awesome food ever. We'll learn. We might even start talking to each other over dinner. And trusting the other when a time and place are decided to meet up at, instead of making 15 phone calls in 7 minutes asking where the other person is. 

And then there is all the quiet we'll have. Do you know how much noise all our electrical gadgets make? You realise this only when you have a power cut and you can suddenly hear nature in all it's glory. Yes, even in a city like Bombay. 

But this is all hypothetical. And thought of only because the Fellow was thinking aloud. What do you think? Would you be able to live in a world without electricity?

Not To Jinx It, But...

...life is good right now. And i'm quite surprised by how content i'm feeling. Maybe it's something to do with putting up lamps all over the house and revelling in the soft light every evening that lends itself to a calm and happy state of mind. Or it's the fact that i've been spending quite some time in the kitchen revisiting my love for cooking and feeding people (while knowing that it's not a daily affair). It could also be the fact that regardless of everything i've been through in the past, I seem to have landed on my feet (in your face everyone who thought otherwise. Ha!) and haven't made the biggest mistake of at least a couple of lives. Of course, it might simply be the new medication i'm on. 

Whatever the reasons, i'm not complaining.

Someone Give Me a Time Machine

This is an extremely random post. Read only if you have nothing, and i mean absolutely nothing better to do. You have been warned. 

I was in class nine when i first read one of Georgette Heyer's books. And fell in love. 

Today, nearly 15 years later, i'm still in love. 

If there is one thing i really really really want to do, it is to experience first-hand, the regency period in England. Yes, I know that that time period in England was full of sickness and rampant poverty and the peasant class was exploited by the nobility and was illiterate and the weather sucked (which it still does) blah blah. Which is why i'm being very specific about whom i want to go back in time as - the daughter of a super wealthy duke. What? I can be selfish here, since i'm choosing to go back in time  (volunteering really) and all, in an age without the internet and microwave. I need to have the money to be able to really enjoy everything society had to offer then right? What is the point of going back as a maid emptying chamber pots (yeah, no toilets)? Of course, i would be able to have more fun as a man but i don't think i possess the stomach to be in a man's head even for a jaunt across the time-space continuum.  

So yes, i'll be content with living in the Regency period as a woman with a large dowry (quite essential then), bound by a hundred and five rules and crazy tight corsets that might give me lung disease and make me want to run a campaign for women's lib, definitely unheard of in 19th century England.

Yes, i may be sounding crazy right now. And maybe i'm romanticizing things too much. But I think I'd like to sit at a heavy oakwood table and use a genuine quill (none of your ballpoints thank you very much) to pen a letter on heavy, beautiful creamy paper, making sure to write in a tiny hand because paper was an expensive commodity then. And i'd like to wake up each morning to a mug of chocolate because apparently that was all in vogue then. Imagine.  I'd like to dress in gowns made of silk and velvet and real lace. Gowns such that i need a maid to help me dress. And do my hair up in fancy dos (ok i can do that even now, but still). And have all kinds of hats and bonnets. And jewellery that would, today, be called antique and unaffordable. Of course, i'd have to be every bit the lady and not curse (and in that time, even *damn* was an inappropriate word, yes) or sit slouched or show my feet in public (very forward that was, and not at all the done thing for a noble lady). Oh, and i would have to know how to play the piano, speak and read french, italian, do calligraphy, know the use of watercolours and how to dance several dances (none of your random all over the place kind of dancing). I would have to take care not to get freckles and have a healthy rosy look about me, even if it meant rubbing crushed strawberries on my cheeks to make them look rosy! And as an innocent young lady, i would know nothing about the birds and the bees. Expected really, since if you kissed a man you expected him to marry you!

Oh, i would also have to get married before twenty (the only acceptable age to get married) and pop children for the rest of my life but i'm certain i'd decide to come back to the future before that, er, happy occasion occurred. I don't think i'd be able to go long pretending i was a lady, what with my brain threatening to explode at the no cursing rule and the having to have a chaperone all the time. And i'm more than certain i'll start missing pants very soon, not to talk of rajma chawal.

So until such time as a time machine is developed, i'll stay content with day dreaming and sound slightly cuckoo.