Life in a Non-Metro

Just got out of a hot shower in a December morn,I reached for a pair of denim and well ironed top/kurta, knowing that I had a lot of running around to do at the Annual Sports Meet in the school where I teach. Though there was no dress code but it is a truth acknowledged throughout India that saari is the safest bet if u are in a formal environment.So I chose one from a few I have.

As I was signing the register a colleague smiled and said, "lucky saari ! you are wearing it :-)" Cute compliment.I never heard it before."yes"I responded,"I didn't want to disappoint my fans.;-) (who belonged to III A ). In the class, girls chirped, "looking nice ma'am" and boys gave me the look of 'what happened to this lady'? She is looking so different.

My students come from varied backgrounds. A child who has already traveled half the globe, rubs shoulders with another whose father washes clothes in one of the hostels or cooks food in some mess, in perfect harmony. One was absent for a few days and told me that he had been to Princeton University.And when I asked Saina why was she absent for two days.shyly she replied and I didn't believe my ears,

"Ma'am our cow ate my uniform".

A unique excuse I've ever heard."It is possible", a few others confirmed.

Now some complaints:

Ankan Verma: Ma'am these people call me Ankal (uncle)

Maanas: Yes and they call me Minus :(

By the way Class 3 won the Trophy for the 'Best special Display.' Sari was lucky indeed.:)

Enjoying my afternoon siesta is in my DNA. And internet is the lullaby. I could be the founder member of the page:‘I don’t watch TV’ On Facebook, but Luckily I got to watch a part of the documentary on Madhubala which was being telecast on one of the news channels. The segment I watched was dedicated to Kishore Kumar and how he married and then tortured her later.

I never cease to thank God for my evening walks.Mostly I'm alone. Sick of the same songs on my mobile, I took hubby’s IPod and the first song was ‘Jab Tak Maine Samjha jeevan kya hai,jeevan beetgaya' sung by Kishore. Thinking about the way he treated Madhubala ,I hated him and felt like skipping the song.Then I thought of what I read somewhere:

“All forms of madness, bizarre habits, awkwardness in society, general clumsiness, are justified in the person who creates good art.”

So if a person is gifted he has a right to hurt/humiliate others? I almost agreed and couldn’t skip the song and what a song!

My locality is full of small and big temples. I pass by many of them. And here was one.It looked like a well and covered with a lid. Some smooth round pebbles, marked with vermillion reminded me the saying about my hometown, Uttarkashi. It goes like..’Jitne kankar,utne Shankar’.

After supper I watched Bawarchi with my MIL (mother in law).Kishore Kumar again! I was fast asleep just after I heard Jaya asking Rajesh Khanna.

‘Itna pyaar diya ,uska koi mol nahi?”

RK had no answer.

How different my life would have been if I were living in a Metro,having a good job.I put myself in the shoe of those ladies whose profiles I view on FB and wonder do they have a life better

than mine? I don’t really know. All I know is that I'm happy in celebrating myself in the small pleasures that everyday holds.

http://www.womensweb.in/articles/celebrating-myself/

Happy B'day Jesus

Just felt like having a Christmas Tree at home.Didn't have one since my children stopped believing in Santa.Thinking of Dickens' famous lines:

"I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year"

People

In the hullabaloo of cosmic Mela It seems that we lose our dear ones and traveling through time we again cross paths.Our brain,though en extraordinary organ, having its limitations fails to recognize but our heart gives some signals:

How out of numerous colleagues,only one,whom you get to meet only once in a blue moon ,gels so well with you that u become permanent members of the 'Mutual admiration club'.Like that day at work, how could she
differentiate between my usual cheerful self and the fake broad grin? When she asked."looking dull now a days.Any problem? Or just Monday morning blues"? I couldn't lie so kept quiet.
whereas colleagues/friends who are inseparable,couldn't see anything.

The World is His Ashtray

I believe that a drunkard’s devotion to his deity, to whom he surrenders everything including his senses is unparalleled. Of late I have noticed the same passion burning also in the hearts of the people who smoke.

In a family of non-smokers I never had /have an opportunity to observe them closely. Now more awareness against it, i.e., banned in restaurants etc the chances are bleak. People visiting you also go outside to smoke. Now we don’t even see a Jackie Shroff, i.e. a good guy smoking in the movies.

As a kid I have seen people smoking casually, sitting and chatting in our drawing-room. Now only I realize that we always had an ashtray in our house. When, the one made of some light metal, a bowl with a lid and a big hole on the top looked weird, was replaced by a lovely glass ashtray. It had spaces left on its edges to put the cigarette if the visitor wished to sip tea in between. The ashtray was cleaned regularly and put on the central-table and used as a paper-weight also. Right now I realize that in these two decades neither I had an ashtray in my house nor I saw a lovely one on the shelves of a gift/china shop.

Smokers, like drunkards are also devoted souls. A worst victim of motion sickness, I only detested them in a bus or a train, when with the first breath of that smell I would puke. Otherwise who doesn’t like Vinod Mehra blowing smoke on Rekha’s face in the movie  GHAR while she sings lyrics penned by Gulzar.

Coming back to ‘burning passion’, in my locality, I get to cross paths with many beginners and stalwarts of smokers’ club, though just for the fraction of a second. One doesn’t have to stand and stare but just a glance is enough to see the deep satisfaction which seems “exquisite and leaves them unsatisfied”. From holding it to blowing smoke out of their mouth, each step looks a ritual .They seem to pronounce that if it is a slow death then let it approach me while I enjoy several such lives.

The latest argument I heard in the defense of smoking is that more non-smokers die of smoking related diseases. Husbands console their wives saying Net pe check kar lo.  (Check the data on the Net).

Humming the song I faintly remember, Bhupinder singh singing in Chitrhaar, Cigrate ka dhuaan jata hai kahaan? Ye kahi jata nahin (where does the smoke from the cigarette go, etc), I sincerely wish for a few smokers I know a healthy and long life.

Dreams