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Thanks my lovelies!

Do it yourself – Post 9

Now now, before your dirty mind wanders far, please to remember that this is a family blog and I refrain for making comments that will have some people jumping.

What I am talking here is the latest shoe rack we picked from Ikea. All of 89 dollars, this pretty thing came in a compact packing. The idea was to assemble it yourself. And the last time I did something vaguely constructive was back in school were we had a compulsory 1 hour of SUPW (Socially Useful Productive work) every week.  On that note, do children these days have SUPW??

Anyways, so we bought this thing home with the intention of creating something out of some random pieces. I for one was totally excited and kicked by the idea and my constant blabbering was infectious enough for Aman too. Or at least he pretended. It’s another story that this assembly had to wait till the following weekend.  

At the onset it seemed a little difficult, but once on it, we had so much fun doing it. It was the perfect team building exercise for a couple. We strategized, recognized quickly what both of us were good at and accordingly worked (trust me to make a perfect domestic activity sound like something you do in a boardroom!!)

And in the process had we some good laughs as well. This was an enjoyable change for someone who is used to having hired help and delivery guys do such things. I mean I don’t think we have ever taken the pain to hammer a random nail into the wall, leave alone assembling a chest of drawers.

So here is my suggestion for some perfect couple time which is fun, novel and great for bonding. Go go, pick up a DIY shoe rack from Ikea.

This is the result of our effort, ah the sweet joys of love!

What do you do when woman don’t value themselves – Post 8

I was talking to a friend the other day and then I read this post by Roop. Let’s first talk about the friend.

I think I know her since we were in class 4 or 5. She is/was smart, intelligent and someone with a sense of purpose in life. I would also call her decently ambitious. Let’s just say she was like any other regular girl with a regular life and regular aspirations. And then she fell in love with this guy; a couple of years older to her, from an affluent business family and belonging to a different religion. She was all of 18-19 then.  With much resolve and after a lot of protest they got married. All this happened a decade back. She quit her studies and got settled in the life of a home maker. I don’t think she gave all this too much thought then for she was finally getting married to someone she loved and was more than thankful that the parents and in-laws who had first protested had then finally agreed.

Why I told you this story was to set some context. This girl went on to produce 3 children in that last 10 years. First 2 were daughters and therefore she had a third one too, which, much to her liking and to the joy of her mother in law and husband was a boy.

Cut to present – her husband is hardly ever home, is into alcohol to the extent of being called an alcoholic and doesn’t do much work (read: is living off the family money). Her MIL is sort of a tyrant, running and ruling the household. My friend has no social life. And is at times subjected to “a bit of physical abuse” (these are her own words). She hardly ever gets to meet her parents in spite of the fact that they stay in the same city.

Obviously all this hurts me, for I still remember the girl she was when we were still in school. But what pains me more is her total resignation to her situation. She justifies her MIL’s behavior by saying that the lady has accepted a girl from a different religion into the family and that she will always be thankful for that, come what may. When I asked her about the domestic violence bit, she justified that too saying that she calls such behavior upon herself by arguing and fighting with her husband. And lastly, she justified the need to have a son too – she feels she owed it to the family to give them an heir. If her 3^rd born was a daughter she would have gone for a 4^th one as well.

Here is a girl, perfectly normal, who is enduring all the pains and troubles, because she believes that she deserves it. She suffers at the hands of this belief that is deeply engraved in her mind. A good DIL is one who never answers back, asks permission, thinks more about her in-law than her own parents, has no opinion etc. The parents feel proud to have brought up a daughter who listens to everything her husband and in-laws say. They are happy that she, with her “obedient and polite” behavior, has washed off the stigma of marrying outside the cast and has been totally accepted by her in-laws family.

So who is at fault here? For me it is my friend as much as her family. It is a case of a woman who has subjected herself to such behavior by choice. She suffers but in silence. She thinks it’s wrong to complain. She is making the marriage work. She has been at it for 10 years and will continue doing it till she breathes her last. I have no words. I feel bad for her but I also know that this is the choice she has made. Maybe someday she will realize her worth and maybe someday she will stand for herself. Maybe…

Diamonds, anyone?? Post 7

I don’t fail to surprise myself every now and then. Is it that I evolve or is it that I change? Or worse still, is it that I get influenced? I don’t know, but whatever it is, it does make me eat my words.

I have never been a jewelry person.  Growing up years in a strict convent school meant small studs or an earring, that’s about it. In college it was mostly a thin gold chain and a much understated finger ring, that too because my grandmother insisted on buying it for me and then I wore it out of love.

What I liked and enjoyed was silver jewelry which my mom firmly believed was an absolute waste.

Even when marriage was fixed I was least bothered about what mom was doing in regards to my wedding jewelry. I did tell not to waste much money on it but I think that suggestion fell on very deaf ears. She wanted me to come home from Bangalore to select my own jewelry but neither had I the time nor the inclination. Ditto for my MIL, for even she wanted me to come home to select my jewelry. But I kindly excused myself.  So basically I had no role to play in buying or selecting the jewelry I am most likely stuck for the rest of my life. So that was my interest level and I did make my opinion quite clear to all and sundry in as verbal a manner as it fits a bride!!

But then something happened like about 2 years back and suddenly I was enlightened and mesmerized by the world of jewelry and precious metals. Unexpectedly, from being a boho who loved her silver I was keenly looking at diamonds. That was my initiation into the world of buying and storing jewelry. That was when I dragged my MIL to the bank locker to have a look at what all I had. And least to say, I was floored. I had no idea what pretty stuff both she and my mom had given me for my wedding.

I still don’t wear it on regular basis but yes I have started to plan my annual buys. And I do look for opportunities to pick some piece or the other every now and then. I never thought I would be “into” jewelry, but I guess I was wrong.  Now I can talk about it, I understand its value and enjoy it. Is this too part of growing up? Not sure, but as of now I am surely enjoying it!!

And then the mighty fall – Post 6

What a day this has been. First I overslept and when I woke up, I did with so much difficulty. Monday was here and work was screaming at me. Given a choice I would have slept all day, that’s how tired I felt. But such choices aren’t there. So I dragged myself out of the bed to get ready for work. And to make things seem a bit better I dressed with care and wore one of my favorite top and skirt and paired them with the latest stilettos I had picked up last week.

And then it happened while returning to office post lunch. I missed a step and before I could realize I was on all fours sprawled on the pavement. The wallet had flown to one corner and blackberry was whimpering at another. Thankfully Aman was with me but even he couldn’t save my mighty fall. My stockings tore, my knee was bleeding and so was my elbow. My shoe broke and my skirt has a bad mark. It was embarrassing beyond words. I have told you about my penchant for falling before. And we did it again.  A dozen odd people gathered around and I couldn’t even cry properly.

Gosh, terrible. Post some quick first aid, Aman dumped me in a taxi and sent me home. I think I will be rendered immobile for a couple of days. Sigh. Well at least one good thing happened with this fall – I got some dope to write a random post!!

Simpy, our maid’s daughter – Post 5

Back home in Kapurthala (where Aman’s parents live) we have a part time maid. Her story is no different from any of the hundreds of other maids. She is from Bihar and when poverty got the better of them, she along with her husband came to Punjab. While she works in multiple houses through the day, he squanders his time by gambling and drinking and then beating wife and children.

Among other children she has a daughter Simpy. When Aman and I got married, Simpy was a little girl of around 10 years. I remember her distinctly because of her energy and her smile. She didn’t know how old she was, just estimation. Simpy use to come home with her mom. She was pretty excited by the idea of a new bride coming into the house.

I have seen her grow a little older at each of my annual visit to Kapurthala. Last year, when I went to kapurthala my MIL told me that Simpy's marriage had been fixed. I was a little shocked considering she wouldn’t be more than 14 years. We tried talking to Simpy’s mother but to no avail. She was very happy because the groom was from their community, had a fruit stall and was well settled. She was convinced that he was a good match for her daughter.  She did ensure us that this marriage was just to ensure that the children don’t wander and get lured. The idea was that even after marriage Simpy would still stay with her parents. She would only move to her in-laws house after 3-4 years when she was older and matured. (Reference here is to the practice of Gauna where the marriage is consummated after several years of the actual ceremony)

Well, when I went to Kapurthala this February I was beyond my wits when I saw Simpy. She hadn’t been coming home with her mother and with all the wedding preparations even I had completely forgotten about her. Finally when I saw her I was stunned. She was pregnant, in less than a year of her marriage. At 15 odd years, she was an expectant mother. Just looking at her broke my heart in thousand pieces. This girl-woman suddenly looked all coy and embarrassed. She will have her baby anytime now.

We spoke a lot about CSA all of last month. What do we call something like this? When will this stop? Is anyone doing anything about it? 

Nothing like some retail therapy – Post 4

Ain’t it? And yesterday was super. After all summer is here and a girl needs to shop with the change in weather! Yeah, so what it the weather hardly changes in Singapore and so what it is as hot and humid as ever.

The wardrobe needs a bit of revamping every now and then, and this time it was Zara that made me very happy. Their latest summer line is something that needs a dekho. If you happen to be in Singapore do peep in.

And among other things, I did find the black handbag which I had been looking for a while now. Picked one from Guess and I say its a steal.

There you go, a rather badly clicked picture, thanks to BB! But you do get the idea :)

For me shopping does work as a stress buster, and it doesn’t matter for whom I am buying stuff. Just the act of buying makes me feel better. Yeah I am crazy like that. What about you? Do you love to shop?

Tales from the wedding – 3 | Post 3

Let’s talk about food, coz we love it, so much so that on most days we wake up to have breakfast. And while having breakfast we discuss the plans for Lunch and Dinner and the numerous in between eats. Are you all like this too? Or are we a mad household.

So for people who are obsessive about food on a regular basis, Punjab can be the most lethal place to be. That too in the hands of dotting parents and in-laws who always think that you have lost more weight from the last time they saw you. Parents come with special eyesight I guess, one which enables them to shed off the “oh-so-prominent” kilos from their children.

This last trip was no different. Add to it the magic of the wedding and you can guess what I am talking about. Each meal was an elaborate affair with starters and dessert thrown in. There is no doubt that Punjbi food is delicious and I think I have finally cracked the code as well. It’s that divine ingredient called BUTTER or its close cousin GHEE, which are added to each and every dish in no small quantity. The more liberal you are with the usage, the better the outcome will be. Sigh!!

Our family cook/halwai – Mr Desa, a tiny, thin man with a nerve of steel was commissioned with the job of preparing each and every meal mostly breakfast and lunches since dinners were at the venues where functions were happening. Me and MIL sat down and prepared this elaborate menu for each day of the festivity. This was duly passed on to Mr Desa so he could arrange for the ingredients.

I was fascinated, least to say, to see him at work. What multitasking, what organizing capabilities and what meticulous working manner. He could put any of those highly paid MBA’s to shame. With 2 helpers, he rocked the show and prepared food for anywhere between 50 to 100 people, meal after meal, bang on time, served with panache and tasting absolutely delightful.

Both Aman and I came back with additions of more than a few shameless kilos. Cruel cruel life this is, I tell you. So while I do realize the mounting weight and while I do procrastinate about  doing something about it, the food and my love for it grows and grows!

Life in Singapore – Let’s talk about cabs and cab drivers | Post 2

With this blogging marathon, when I write a post every day, I would also try and cover certain aspects of my life here in Singapore. Nothing too scholarly, just a bit of what I observe and infer.

This island of Singapore amazes me in more ways than I can list. With a total land area of just about 700 km² it is one of the smallest Asian countries. It’s just a tiny dot on the map. But it still has about 26000 taxis on road at any point of time. And best way to know a city is to talk to its taxi drivers. The insights they will give you about a place will be far deeper than anyone else. 

This morning I had another very interesting conversation with the taxi driver while coming to office. He told me that the taxi drivers were the most “non-preferred” category of prospective grooms in Singapore. It was very difficult to find wives for cab drivers. Reason being that taxi drivers were considered rude and arrogant from Singapore standards. Now that sounds totally incredulous to an Indian and more importantly to someone who has lived in Bangalore for 5 years. Because, we know a rude taxi driver when we see one. These Singaporeans cab drivers are by far calmer and better mannered than their counterparts in most countries.

But yes, compared to other Singaporeans they might be considered arrogant. You know, Singapore is a much pampered society. They follow their rules and they listen to their government. And in return they live a life which is envied by many others. The quality of life here I guess is among the top five globally, the crime rate second only to New Zealand. This kind of comfort living has made the citizens very matter of fact. To quote the cab driver “We Singaporeans behave like Robots”

And maybe this is why the cab guys are considered rude. You tell them to go straight and they will, but if you change your mind mid way and ask them to pull over, they will grumble. Everything is relative. And these folks who might appear delightful to us Indians are not the most sought after category locally. 

It’s time for the madness to begin – Post 1

And we take the plunge. Yet again, not having learnt from our past mistakes. These lovely women have successfully lured me into this. You might wonder what? Well, we are talking about  NaBloPoMo, where we write a blog post each day for the rest of the month.

We did this last year in June and the same group is back again. And how could I miss the party?

The CSAAM month has just got over. Can’t begin to say what the month of April meant to me. It was agonizing and therapeutic, both at the same time. It was stressing beyond words, not just physically but mentally too. And since work can never be ignored, it was personal space and time that took the beating. Late nights and some more. But there isn’t an iota of regret. There is only a sense of fulfillment of having done something worthwhile.

One person that needs a special mention is Aman. For without his support and smile, I couldn’t have carried the CSAAM work. He endured me and my moods with a golden heart. I can never say enough how lucky I am and I can never thank him enough to have chosen me as his life partner. Touchwood.

So coming back to NaBloPoMo, let us start the madness again! 

ps: these are the folks who are enthusiastically doing this!