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Monday 31 August 2015

5 Reasons Why I love Driving in India


If you drive in India and make a statement like this, people are surely going to doubt your sanity. You either have to be a crazy I-love-traffic-kind-of-person they show in Ads these days. Or probably are in college and have a girlfriend to sit behind/besides you.

But I have my reasons for validating it - 


  1. Honk at will. Everyone here thinks, only they see the red light turn green and shoulder the responsibility of informing of all other lazy heads. Honk to wake all other drivers to green signal. Sometimes, or rather at most times, if someone has honked it means they are in a hurry, assume they have an invisible red light mounted on their car and thus should be given the right to jump ahead of you magically. But mind you, like dogs barking, honking can have different meanings in different contexts and you should apply common sense, not logic to decode it. If an autowala honks at you incessantly, it does not always mean he is trying to make a pass at you. It sometime also means that he might just be asking you what time of hour it is or informing you that your dupatta is stuck in the car door. So caution is advised to understand the meaning of honk before applying your vocal skills and abusive language to god use
.

2. Yellow traffic light means, don’t slow down yet. You see a yellow light somewhere, it feels like there is an opportunity, it has a small window, and if you don’t hurry up, you will lose it. You feel the sense of urgency, the need to act fast instead of slowing down. Accept the challenge and drive faster.




3. If you are a girl and know how to say “Please Bhaiya” correctly, chances are people will even park your vehicle for you. People are kind enough to offer you free tips, “thoda left, thoda left”, “nahin nahin thoda aur kaato”. Unless there is an emergency and your life depends on it, you can get most work done with those two magic words.

4. GPS or no GPS you will find your way. People go out of their way to make sure you have understood where you need to go. There are hundreds of videos and news articles of how people ignore someone needing medical attention on the road. But if you need to get your directions right, there is no need to panic and consume your mobile data pack by putting the navigation on. They might not really know the correct directions, but they will ask someone for you or give you incorrect directions, but they will not let your hope die.

5. You rule the roads here. In true words, mere baap ki road hai. You see someone is trying to cross the roads, without getting to the zebra crossing (ofcourse there are no zebra crossing, but you are on the other side of the table and are driving). What do you do? You drive faster. Because its your right of way and no-one, not even that little angel on the shoulder can take it from you (except the traffic policeman ofcourse). So if you see someone trying to cross the roads and mock at your speed, you need to teach them a lesson by speeding up and scaring the hell out of them.




Wednesday 5 August 2015

I Eat and Cheat! I Lie and Deep Fry!



This time I was determined that I will follow the diet strictly and lose weight.

“I have had enough with the excess weight”, I said to myself. I have been carrying around the baby weight with love, years after delivering. The younger offspring is 3.5 years old and I still haven’t thrown the maternity jeans away.

This was a proof enough to jolt me out, but what really served as a wake up call were incidents like when my FB pics stopped getting as many likes, the kids teacher stopped taking notice of what I am wearing and found myself constantly bitching about the friend who had miraculously lost weight overnight.

I always take serious note when people tell me about their weight loss journey and secretly follow the most trending diet plans online. So I had found myself a diet that works (theoretically or on other people) and decided to give it a try. Losing weight cannot be so hard, I keep telling myself.

But after the first day, the logical thinking seems to question the motivation. And the weighing machine seems to be taking revenge because it has been overworked and doesn’t seem to reflect the weight change.

So here are the after-effects and after-thoughts of 2 days of dieting and mental toll –

  1. I am always hungry and I tell you, its not a pleasant feeling. Why doesn’t eating just veggies and fruits make you full? Not a difficult question now is it?

  1. It gave me a sense of understanding why there are so many foods and recipes around. They all have a meaning and a reason in life. (I think I see the deeper meaning of every food with empty stomach). Pakodas are meant to keep you warm on the rainy days and soups can’t replace it. Just like paav bhaji is meant to clean up all the left over veggies in the fridge and the same veggies will not make a good salad because they are mostly rotten.

  1. Now I know exactly what thy neighbors cook, whether they add curry leaves or onion in the tadka or how deep frying potatoes smell different from frying poories.

  1. I have officially become the veggie terminator/ “veggienasur” of the house. If I am not eating, you can find me shopping for the veggies/ fruits or chopping them. It definitely takes a lot of buying and a fridge weight to lose weight.

  1. Weekend binging. What would you do if you are at a buffet table and the waiter keeps asking, would you like to try this kebab, and some kachori, with a sugary drink, after some paneer tikka. Would you like to try our signature dish? Should I say no and break his heart? I look around the table and everyone is munching and gobbling in peace. Nobody cares about the bloody oil and calories here. Why should I be left alone in the struggle? I too am going to have a good time and try every piece of sweet on the buffet, I thought. After all I am paying for the complete thali, so why not try the shrikhand, gulab jamun, ice-cream, some barfi and cake. It can’t change my fate, now can it?

  1. I have a new perspective towards everything. Anything and everything can be measured in calories. If you see a little healthy person on the road, you calculate. If the husband is putting some extra bhujia over poha, it is being looked down upon. If I have to go and pick up kid from bus bay, I put the fitness app on to calculate the steps I have taken and how far away I am from my goal. Everything can now be quantified and takes you closer or farther from your goal.

  1. Can you really prepare a nice meal for the family and then go eat your soup? I sniff and sob in a quiet corner with my bowl of soup. A husband once vowed that we are in together for better or for worse. But the truth is that, you are alone. Only you can burn your calories and no arguments can ever convince him to support and workout together.

What is better – a little cheating or giving up? This is a big question, I know. But I think a little cheating does less damage than giving up. (Don’t ask me the same question and expect the same answer in my kid’s presence.) So over and above the diet plan, I had 2 cups of tea, eat a little breakfast, eat cookies and tell everyone, no I am not dieting.

One fine day, when someone will ask me how I managed to lose so much weight, I will get a chance to speak out the rehearsed answer, “Oh really! Have I lost weight? It must have just melted away from taking care of family and working hard.”


So what do you think? I would love to hear back your experience and thoughts. 

Monday 27 July 2015

"Working From home" Not "Working For Home"

 


Once upon a time I dared to tell my maid that you are late. She replied while still checking whatsapp messages on her mobile, “The other madam was getting late for office, so she asked me to finish work at her place first.” I almost crushed the tea cup with my clenched fists like Singham in anger, pain and shock. I didn’t know I was capable of reflecting so many emotions at one point of time. What caused the emotional overflow was that, not even my own maid considers my working from home as actually working and the work flexibility cascades down even to her, without my consent, ofcourse.

Its not about the maid (only), it’s the general attitude. If I am working from home, I am working for home, that’s what THEY think.

It takes a lot of discipline, concentration and letting go, to sit down and work when the circus activities of the home never cease to carry you along. It’s a mad house and its easy to get weighed down by it at times. But I chose this.

I chose a different work style, this is the choice I made for myself and my family. Everyone is different, their priorities are different, their family requirements are different and so are there opinions about work. But does this give anyone the right to question someone’s career or look down upon them?

I have to myself, some short intervals to work with full focus i.e. from 10am -12 noon and thereafter from 1pm – 4pm. If I miss that, I have to put on horse blinkers and some ear plugs to get back to work with a lot of motivation from husband and threatening from the clients.

It’s a constant struggle to strike a balance between work and home. My brain is overworking all the time. Its like, let me soak the daal now, so that it can sit for a while before I finish writing the client mail. Why is that LPG delivery guy not here yet? Just one call will not harm anything and then get back to work with a single track mind.

I agree that you do have a domestic mind working behind the professional mind all the time. But does that mean I am not doing justice to each one of them? Does that give you the right to think any less of me or my working style? Should I care about what you think? Or am I just seeking some respect from both the worlds?

Here is a glimpse of my daily struggle, challenges and conflicts while WFH–

  1. I am always in my PJs – The iron-man (not that iron-man, silly, the press-waala guy) thinks I am saving on precious money. The neighbors think I am always sleeping. My kids ask me, “Are we going out”, if I am dressed otherwise. “Is someone coming”, husband remarks. And me, I think, they are most comfortable, no fuss, wrinkle-free and all season wear.
  There is not motivation to dress better. Forget the husband; he has absolutely no clue if I am wearing a Chanel or Jockey, i.e. if I do.

  1. People come and go and I am always working – It just never ends. When you do not have any strict working hours, you don’t need to swipe in and out of office, you are playing every possible role at the same time, there is no one monitoring your screen from behind, you get little distracted at times. But then you work overtime to makeup for the loss.
  2. No meal but always snacking - Eating has become a way to take a break. I am always opening the kitchen cabinets, looking for that one last thing to eat. I eat on the sofa, work on the bed and listen to music on the dining table while keeping a watch on the maid from the corner of my eye.
  3. Panic if I need to get out in the middle of the day- No, its true. There is a checklist that I need to tick off, before stepping out. Bath – check. Change of clothes – check. Sniff test for clothes I am wearing– check. Comb hair – check. Kids disarmed – check. Call husband to tell him about my will if I don’t return, ever – check. Mobile Data working – check. House keys – check. I am cutting the list short here, for the sake of brevity.
  4. Forget free office parties, say goodbye to good feedback reviews and RIP pay hikes.
  5. Flexibility is a universal thing – Flexibility as a freelancer to work anytime anywhere means a lot of things to a lot of people. Some people, like one husband, Day 1 (of 5 working days in a week) – Can you please renew car insurance? Day 2 – Can you check on that plumber? Day 3 – Can you drop by at school for Parent-Teacher meet. Day 4 – Can you give directions to the delivery guy that is coming to drop by some office package? Day 5- Can you research online about which is the best mobile in market these days?
  6. Network issues when office calls. This is a serious problem. Whenever some client or office tries to reach me, I am unreachable. So they assume that I am backpacking on the trails of Kerala or watching a movie in some remote theater. But if I am in the bathroom or missed the ring, the kids are the first to jump up and answer the phone. Not only they say that mom is taking a loo break, but they take turns to talk to the other person and cutely engage them for over 20 min or until the client disconnects. It is not just embarrassing and so unprofessional. It re-establishes the boss’s faith in you forever.
Its awesome and terrible!

Thursday 16 July 2015

Reflections of turning 35! Its about celebration and not age

Spicy Saturday

I turned 35 recently. Calls, messages, gifts, bouquets, hugs and dinner, every cue I had subtly (yet loudly) dropped had been picked up to satisfy my birthday greed and I completely enjoyed it. Oreo and Brownie might not have been very happy with the adult ways of birthday celebration with no return gifts, magician, balloons or games, but what do they know.

But after the birthday celebrations were over, the reality of moving towards the late 30’s struck me. There are times when I tend to forget how old I am, like reciting Twinkle Twinkle when rolling chapatti (because that’s what I hear most often) or applying Barbie nail paint that Brownie sometimes allows me to borrow. But when I am asked over and over again with each birthday blessing call (disguised as an age reminder call), it is difficult to ignore the big number.

Did I say ignore, how can I ignore when my offsprings have a no-snooze-age-reminder setup loaded for me. They keep running back from park, yelling
“Sorry, how old are you, you said?” Oreo said, back from a discussion with friends and all-ears-moms around.
“35”, I am yelling again.
“Its easy to remember you know Oreo. You are 3, I was 5 until recently and so Mom is 3 and 5 together. That is 35. Its easy”, said an over excited Brownie.

Voila, what an impromptu trick. I should have appreciated it but the number carried me away. Number that keeps ticking in my head like a time bomb. 35! 35! 35! I keep reminding myself its just a number. But when I try remembering what I did in those 35 years that just poofed away, all I see is grey hair, extra kilos and stretch marks that stand as a testimony to something wise I must have done.

So here I am taking a retrospective look at the past years, in a typical Now and Then table format -

Who I was 20 years back – Ancient history
Now
I weighed 44kgs, loved the mirror and fitted clothes
I might have been fighting a losing battle with the weighing scale but I am proud of all the stretch marks, the bulges, the flab, the double chin and the ever-pregnant belly. I carry it with pride like an injured soldier with his scars (whatever that means)
Never a topper in class or sports
Always a topper in class and every other field for that matter, if you ask my kids
Love (as misled by movies) meant, being good friends, romantic dinners, hand holding, surprise gifts and late night chats.
Now I love to swipe the credit card, call him for OTP and later end up paying cash on delivery for the purchase husband made for himself. I also ask him to save receipts of rare gifts he gets me so I can shamelessly exchange them later.
My Mom is a little drama queen when she said, 4 kids are too much, so I thought
Managing 2 small and 1 adult kid with tantrum throwing maids, can give you 5 grey hair everyday.
Good day meant a bowl of ice-cream
Good day means good bowel and a novel
Best food is found in expensive restaurants
My Mom’s food is the best. My kids have been not so lucky but then they have their Nani to look up to.
Oh how I wished for a TV or PC in the bedroom
A separate entertainment room with a lock where I can sit with my invisibility cloak on.
30 minutes in the bathroom were never enough
Bath, afternoon nap and combing hair, you can’t have it all in one day
Periods were the bad days of the month
They are good days when you actually have a reason to say no to lot of things
Outsourcing meant, job opportunities
Now it means a way to get away with boring and repetitive house chores
Shopping was for the ones with the luxury of money
Shopping is a necessity and meant for the ones with the luxury of time.
Track pants meant night wear
They are all day comfort wear and easily available in all shapes and sizes
All I ever wanted was 20,000 bank balance and small low maintenance apartment
I wish I can have a big villa, where I can grow my own weed and live happily ever after
Hated school
Love school as it means time away from kids and memories of good old days
TV meant MTV
TV means answering Dora’s dumb questions

You might think I am materialistic, mean and rather 53 years old. But the truth is that I now know, better than ever, what I want to be and who I am. My mantra for life has changed. One short life, forgive, let go and live it. Don't hold everything so tightly, let go! 

Somethings in me haven’t changed at all, like I still keep hinting everyone about the upcoming birthday and mandatory gifts. I am still greedy and super excited about my birthday, even though husband would keep trying to pull me back to reality and insists it is only meant for kids.

But there are times when I surprise myself like how I slow down around my kids, how I end up calling my mom everyday and enjoy a hot cup of tea with newspaper on Sundays.  I don’t feel like I am missing anything if I am not going out on the weekends. I never knew how well I could yell until I became a mom. I can also act well now, when the moment after yelling I turn around and beg my maid to do some more work at barely audible pitch and folded hands.  

There are lots of things that I still want to learn like salsa dancing, surf boarding and patience. But not everything anymore. I expected too much and gave back too little. I have finally understood that husband and I are at opposite end of the lover’s spectrum and deeds speak louder than words or gifts (views and opinions are my own, believe me).