Category Archives: Love

Man-woman

She: (Excitedly) You know.. Kasturaba Gandhi died on the lap of Gandhiji. She was one lucky woman.

He: Kab marna hai tum ko (When are you planning to die?). I will keep my lap ready.

 

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Wiser, fatter in love

Statutory confession: I am no expert in man-woman relationship. I also believe that a relationship is deeply personal. This piece is just based on my experiences of being in some meaningful and not so meaningful relationships. Yet, I have immensely enjoyed this roller coaster ride called ‘being in love’.

Silence is ‘not’ golden: There was a poster in my friend’s hostel room which said, “If you can’t understand my silence, you can’t understand my words.” I don’t know whether my friend took it seriously or not but yours truly definitely took it seriously. So, I just thought that my silence would speak, solve all problems with my man. All that I would need to do is to sit in one corner of the room, maintain a Buddha like posture and if need be, shed some pearly tears.  But real life is much more than a poster. Understanding silence is very serious business (more so for your man). I have realized that most men are not really good at understanding silence. They find it easier when you express yourself. So, the next point is a natural progression of this one.

Argumentative Indian: Amartya Sen, please forgive me for using your famous book title in this context. But I have discovered the joy of arguing. Well, it doesn’t earn me money but it gives me immense pleasure. And being a student of social sciences, I make sure that my argument is both historical yet contextual. Man, I know I am a late bloomer. But I never knew that there’s so much of fun in arguing.  Sometimes it feels like a high octane tennis match between Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal.

Feasting .. no more fasting : I thought I had this secret AK 47 weapon with me. Of not eating. Rather refusing to eat whenever we had fights/disagreements. Well, over the years, I have realized that man-woman relationship is a tad different from Gandhiji’s Satyagraha or Anna Hazare’s anti-corruption fasting agitation at Jantar matar, New Delhi So, I have surrendered my secret weapon with great happiness. Now, if I have a fight/disagreement, then I make sure to order mutton biryani, kebabs and polish it off with a plate of caramel custard or rabri with jalebi. Life feels uber delicious. The weighing machine sometimes look alarming. Well, everything is fair in love and war. And, didn’t somebody say love is all about layers? I am just adding layers to myself.

Still tectonic plates, dormant volcanoes: For years, I dealt with innumerable earthquakes, volcanic eruptions within myself. I was operating from a high disaster zone called ‘heart’, But of late, things have settled down. There has been no need for any disaster management. The tectonic plates are all still. And the volcanoes are all lying dormant. Life feels disaster proof.

 

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(This was posted by my favourite Priyanka Chopra on her Instagram feed)

 This too shall pass: When you are young and head over heels in love, you think this comes with a stamp of eternity. But then you grow up and you experience life, death, relationships, you realize that everything evolves in life. Evolution is the truth of life. So, the older, wiser me has decided to take a chill pill and curl up in the couch and revel in the line ‘This too shall pass.” Be it happiness, sadness, laziness or even dreadful Indian summer.

Nobody is going anywhere: The younger me had this terrible thought in her head —“If it  ends.. what will happen?” Well, it took me some years to understand that nothing begins, nothing ends (To quote Osho). Nobody really goes away anywhere. And the husbands (and lovers who behave like husbands) find it most difficult to go away. They somehow manage to stick on, for different reasons. Even when I threatened my hubby recently with this killer line, ‘I would put you on OLX,” he just didn’t move an inch. I have a feeling my husband may have a similar tale to tell about me. Fair enough, I think.

Social media has other ‘social’ uses: I am not a great fan of people flaunting their love on Facebook. Most of my friends who write long love notes to their spouses on Facebook are not in a happy personal space (their off line confessions say a different story). I prefer to stay away from professing love on Facebook.  Life seems blissful. Sometimes no virtual information is good information too. Unlike many other contemporaries of mine, I am freed from the pressure of being a Miss Marple / Lady Agent Vinod/ Bobby Jasoos or even to change profile pics thrice in a week.

Take love seriously but not the lover: I am fascinated by the idea of love. I feel just being in love makes me a better person. The lover is a part of the whole, large, beautiful concept of love. I fiercely protect my right to love. I love being in love.

To Kerala, with love

It’s Onam today — Kerala’s much celebrated harvest festival. But how does one celebrate in the midst of loss, pain, grief and devastation? Kerala is going through a harrowing time because of the massive floods. The magnitude of this natural calamity is beyond anyone’s imagination. But then Kerala has a million stories of hope, love and generosity. Here’s to Kerala’s magical landscape and its beautiful, resilient people. Kerala, you will  always be close to my heart.

(I visited Kerala just a month ago i.e July, 2018. The pics are from my Kerala trip. )

 

PICTURE PERFECT

 

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UNDER A CLOUD… STANDING TALL

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BACKWATERS CALLING

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NET GAIN IN FORT KOCHI

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YOURS TRULY WITH KERALA’S TWINKLING STARS  

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LET’S GO QUIRKY

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WE ARE 25

(In times of instant noodles, coffee and dating apps— we turned 25.  This togetherness is beyond any structure, legality or shared surnames)
1. All the cups of chai I enjoyed with you and all the chai I had thinking of you.

2. All the e-mail notes I wrote and all the phone calls you made

3. Crispy fried chicken from Nirula’s and also enjoying a Manhatten Mania ice-cream while walking from Vasant Vihar to the last range of Aravalis (figure out what’s)

4. Gulzar’s ‘Katra Katra’ from Izzazat — still playing on

5. Our mutual love for poori-aloo ki sabzi

6, When Moonlight samosas and jalebis were bought with love and affection

7. Learning to make chicken curry and actually doing it well with a desire to cook a nice meal for you.

8 Living up to the image of ‘Argumentative Indians’ in front of each other

9. To perspectives, experiences and discovering

10 For all our grey hair and all the love that come with it

11. Long sleeve white kurtas and blue jeans you wore

12. Conversations that continued in the stillness of the night and finally waking up

between fantasy and reality

13. For the India within us, the India we are dreaming of

14 Our deep love for Gandhi and his thoughts

15. To that extra-ordinarily beautiful rainy night on the rock. Not many are as lucky as we are.

16. 236 Jhelum — bare walls, mattress on the floor yet it felt so complete

17. Politics — wholly, partly but substantial too

18. To that unexplained feeling that this relationship will survive against all odds

19. For not tying my hair even though you wanted me to do that (rebel without a cause)

20. Sitting on the verandah of the Sabarmati Ashram with you by my side (my spiritual home in every sense of the term)

21. Longing and belonging — in between sunrise and sunset

22. Love and affection — beyond context and structure

23. All the ear-rings you bought for me, my love

24. Marx, Gandhi, Rumi, Kabir — discovering all of them in one life and then embracing and celebrating

25. To the clock that has ticked diligently for the last 25 years even as we loved, laughed and fought occasionally too.

Here’s to LIFE

Of six years & 100 minutes

She is one person who is really close to my heart. We worked together in Delhi years ago and became close friends. We are soul sisters but the irony is that we also lose touch with each other and then after some years we again find each other. This time, it was for six years. I last talked to her in 2012.

Few days back, I was talking about her to my younger colleagues. On an impulse, I tried to track her in Facebook but I couldn’t find her there (I have lost her mobile number). I logged on to twitter, saw her profile. I couldn’t send her a direct message. So I tweeted, “…where are you? You nut case..a slice of my heart walking outside my body.”

She started following me and then we got into chatting via direct messaging. There was so much to talk. Finally, we talked to each other on phone on Monday night (as she was having her weekly off day and I finished work early).

She had no idea that I have lost my mother in 2013. I had no idea that her father (whom I lovingly call uncle) is now lying in a state of semi coma for last four years. I had no idea that she had a harrowing  experience while chasing dreams in London. My eyes welled up in tears as I was listening to her. She said, “My dad was like a huge beautiful oak tree under which I flourished and drew strength from. And today, he doesn’t even recognize me.”

There’s no answer to loss. You can only feel loss in your heart. I couldn’t sleep on Monday night. After  six years of losing my mother, my loss paled in front of hers.

All I can feel is love for her and for her dad. It hurts me to even think that uncle won’t recognize me. But I can recognize him and remember his love for me.

After we ended our conversation, she messaged me, “Six years of my life condensed into this conversation that lasted for 100 minutes.”

 

 

 

 

Time

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(I am writing this because often now I find people suffering from the ‘disease of being busy.’)

The year was 2003. Prasanna, my sister-in-law was diagnosed with cancer. She was in her early 30s and before cancer took over her life, she was teaching in Ahmedabad’s Shreyas Foundation started by Leena Sarabhai, the montessori pioneer. Born in 1915 to Sarladevi and Ambalal Sarabhai in the prominent Sarabhai family, Leena Sarabhai was a pioneer in the field of education.  Prasanna always had high regards for Leena Sarabhai and really enjoyed working at the Shreyas Foundation. Post her cancer treatment, she was confined to her home. Leena Sarabhai wanted to meet her but she couldn’t come to visit her at home as she was not in a condition to climb up the stairs and there was no lift.

When Prasanna was admitted in the hospital for some complications, Leena Sarabhai came to meet her (the hospital lift made it easier for her). It was a December evening. She came with beautifully arranged flowers on a lotus leaf. It was refreshing to see somebody not rushing to a florist for a bouquet.

That meeting between Prasanna and Leenaben is etched in my mind forever. Probably that will be one of the most beautiful relationships between a boss and an employee. As 88 year old Leenaben held Prasanna’s hand delicately yet intimately, tears flowed freely from Prasanna’s eyes. She couldn’t speak that time as she was suffering from a rare head and neck cancer. Just to watch Leenaben wiping Prasanna’s tears gently was subliminal.  None of us were using mobile phones then and there were no way to capture any photograph then. But then I think it would have felt brutal to capture such love and affection in a camera. Most of us in the room were crying seeing that kind of love.

After spending some time with her, Leenaben left the hospital. Some of us accompanied her till the gate. As she was getting into the car, my husband said, “Leenaben, thank you for your time.”

She looked at us and said with a smile, “What’s time for?” 

Well, there was silence all around us.

(Leena Sarabhai passed away in 2012)

 

 

 

 

Knowing Self, the Sufi way

A wandering dervish arrived in a town where the locals did not trust strangers. “Go away,” they shouted at him. “No one knows you here.” The dervish calmly responded, “Yes, but I know myself and believe me, it would have been much worse if it were the other way around.”