Suffocation

Jumping with her four year old child from the 19^th floor of her own apartment complex.  A child she brought into this world after nine months of pregnancy and a lifetime of dreams. A son who was going to be her guiding star all her life. A baby with sparkling eyes full of innocence and hope. A kid who she helped to get ready in the small colourful uniform and tiny socks. With bright water bottle and tiffin box for school. Imagine her state of mind as she made her way to the terrace and threw him off before leaping to death herself. What were those emotions? The thoughts?

The helplessness and submission to failure and the tiredness of a hopeless marriage along with broken dreams and self pity. So much more that I can’t even imagine. Are these emotions worth the one life you are gifted with? And that of a child who you have no right to play God to? Well, it is hard to empathize and hence it is unwise to question her mental state of being. But yes, we can and we should question the circumstances leading to her trauma.

She is a middle class decently educated woman. She can be a manager or a home maker. She is fair or dark, tall or short.  She belongs to any caste or creed. She is among us. She is one woman or many. And she is just like you or me. And she needs help to release her from her suffocating life.

As female suicides from high rises shook Mumbai in the recent past, the ugly face of domestic violence and backwardness of educated families came to light. It is not limited to the illiterate areas of Bihar or Uttar Pradesh. This, unfortunately, is happening in more gruesome ways, in metros like Mumbai, Bangalore, Delhi, etc.

I shouldn’t be generalizing by giving in-laws a bad name. But considering the number of examples where their names are roped into these suicide cases, there must be some dark truth about their roles in pushing a woman to such drastic steps. Dowri system has relapsed. This time, the attitude is to ask for riches to make up for the loads of money gone into educating their son in USA. This mentality is beyond me. You are actually making another family pay for the education of your son- how cheap are you.  This is your love for your son? Plain give and take? Disgusting.

Another cause of distress for today’s woman is her helplessness as her executive officer husband finds alternate sources for sexual satisfaction. Prevalent in young, middle aged as well as old class of working men, dating a younger assistant or subordinate or sometimes plain escort is now, not unheard of. “I have the money and the power, I have a stressful job and I buy all the happiness for my dependent family. I deserve extramarital pleasure.” Have you ever thought of the fact that your wife, who today is a home maker taking care of your kids, at the peak of her career and age, left her job and all ambition to raise a good family for you? Have you ever considered the sacrifices that she may have made without even mentioning them? Are you there for her while she fights her battles every day? Are you a friend to your wife? It is amazing how two individuals are married for years and still incapable of understanding one another.

Coming back to the present topic of discussion, it would be unfair to put all the blame on the family members. The woman is at fault because she forgot the basic rule of loving herself in the process of seeking acceptance from her husband, her family and the society. It may be hard to break out of the marital woes, but in most cases, the biggest culprit is the woman’s own acceptance to the situation, pushing her toward the bottomless pits of disappointment, dejection and consequent resignation. Woman, you deserve to break free. It is understandable that you care about the well being of the kids and the respect of the family. But your life isn’t a fair price to pay for it. You have one life; stop suffocating your dreams and ideals. You have as much a right to live and be happy as your selfish husband.

Suicide serves no purpose. With no exceptions ever. Allow yourself to live please.

Remember, the sun rises everyday for you.

Reading: Rich Dad Poor Dad

Listening: Rangeela Songs

Watching: Gone in 60 seconds

Here Comes The Sun

” Vede vha; vha thode vede. Nehmi shahane rahnyat kay shahanpan aahe?”

10th standard Marathi textbook began with a lesson that touched the otherwise curriculum driven students who knew no better. It was perhaps one of the rare good decisions on the part of the Maharashtra Board. Others would include Toto Chan, Anganaatla Popat Daffodils and Colonel Fazackerley.

So this is the opportunity I give myself to go mad. Some will snort loudly at that. No, this is the chance I give my dearest possession- this blog- to move out of the dark safe zones of emotion and expression to experience a splash of colour. Hence, the revamped blog. It will be a great shift in my instinctive fashion of blogging, but there is a cause behind it. I could sense a pattern in my writing which makes me predictable. More so, repetitive. Time to break it.

Many would have expected a long emotional post of the inevitable goodbyes and the heart wrenching adieu to the beautiful home we call SP. Truth be told, words will fail me and hence I would dread to even try. Not all needs to be said.

Anyhoo, time for some cheer and smiles. In the moment of imminent departure from the city that I grew up to love, I realize there are so many places I haven’t seen. So many food joints I haven’t hogged at. Some many moments I haven’t captured. That calls for a checklist.

So expect a light account of my sweet serendipities, interesting encounters and brightly lit experiences of the last 21 long years and the two short months to come.

Sing a song. Dance along. Take a leap. Make that trip. Say those words.

Get colored.

Reading: The Palace of Illusions by Chitra Banerjee Dibakaruni

Listening : Here comes the sun by Beatles

Watching: Loins of Punjab  presents

Overcoming inhibitions

At 4, with a float attached to my back, I stood at the edge of the springboard. Looking down, the blue water was almost alluring. But the 5 meters that stood between us, glued me to the edge. Looking behind, I saw the coach blow the whistle. That called for a dive. A slight reluctance crossed my face and he walked up to me, smiled, and said, “You are going to thank me for this.” And he hurled me off the board. For a moment I was cutting through the air before I hit the water hard- bottom first. People say, they see their life flashing during the final fall, I don’t remember what I saw. That I knew no abuses which I generously use now, makes me quite sure I went blank. And in that moment I realized, God, this is fun. I want to do it again. And I did. And I continue to do so. Except, the splash I produce keeps getting bigger and bigger. Some blind jumps are good. As long as they don’t kill you, you never have anything to regret.

We all have had our moments of trials. The first bicycle ride, the first flight. The first injection. Overcoming the initial fears has always brought better things. Remember the first time you stood up in school to answer a question? Or the time you were to give an extempore in your English orals? Or recite that Marathi poem? Heart pounding against your ribcage? You look back and laugh at your clumsiness. But semester after semester, even today, your heart skips a beat when the external professor turns to you in a viva. But really, in most times, it’s not worth the trouble.

There is an unexplainable joy in breaking self created barriers. Gathering the balls to walk up to a potential client in the business world. To make the 3 minute elevator pitch. To sell your product. To voice your opinion. To step outside your comfort zone to open yourself to the vastness of the world. There will always be more to know than we know, more to see that we can see and more to believe than we can believe- the horizon is but an illusion. Moving forward is the only way to redefine horizons.

Don’t let insignificant challenges come in way of the bigger picture. Overcome personal inhibitions. They are but a cloud of doubt. Take that leap. Climb that step. Make that call. The world is better at the top.

I say this, standing at the edge of a new cliff. The leap will take me to a land far far away. Far from my comfort zone, this leap uproots my life of 21 years and throws every bond I have treasured up for a toss. New people, new country, new rules, new methods and new challenges. Will it be worth all the trouble? Only time will tell. But I hear the Coach whisper, “You are going to thank me for this.”

Pundrah Agasth!

It’s that time of the year again. The national holiday-getting up late. Wearing the small flag badge. Listening to a couple of patriotic songs. A sudden ‘proud to be an Indian pride’ swelling in your chest. Nowadays, we take one step further. Enough of remembering the first moments of freedom- the midnight speech. Long forgotten is the ‘We made a tryst with destiny…..India will wake to life and freedom’ speech. Now we question our freedom. We criticize it. We question ourselves, are we truly free? We remember the jawans. As if the other 364 days of the year, they weren’t guarding the borders. Till yesterday we were cribbing about the traffic problems caused by metro-work in Mumbai, the communal riots in different parts of India, the poverty, Kashmir, corruption ,  did I mention the traffic problems? And we shall continue doing that tomorrow too. But today, Metro is a sign of technological advancement of India, all Indians are our brothers and sisters, Kashmir is India’s paradise, and corruption- no I think we will still criticize corruption.

Independence is just a realization that we are our own masters. We rule ourselves. It’s a remembrance of what our ancestors sacrificed to show us the beautiful free India.

No doubt we have come a long way. In terms of technology, defence, standard of living, values, ideas, etc. We are a global player. That too, a strong one. And what we have achieved in the last 63 years is definitely commendable. In my words, we are totally cool. We rock.

But has this freedom brought with it, lack of discipline. In our personal lives, as members of any organisations, as elements of the society, as citizens of the country? Most of us have not seen a life otherwise. We were born with it and it is very well taken for granted. Of course we, as a country, are capable of protecting our boundaries. So freedom is protected no doubt. But what about the threats which endanger our freedom to live peacefully? What about those anti-social elements which pop their ugly heads every once in a while, kill a few, terrorize many more and encroach upon the very foundation of the country- our right to freedom. Our right to live.

The good are getting better but the bad are getting worse. There is no fun in having freedom in bits and pieces and being happy with what we get.

So are we really free? Ofcourse we are, for heaven’s sake, stop questioning that. At least we are supposed to be. Thats what was granted to us by the White saaheb when he left. Complete freedom. Poorna swaraj.

It’s time to understand new dimensions of it, and to accept them. A Maoist attack is an attack on freedom. Racial discrimination towards Indians in any part of the world is a blot on our independence. Girls not being able to venture out of their houses after 7pm in most parts of India except Mumbai is an attack on their freedom. It’s high time we stop eating free ladoos on Independence day and have our Indian-ness alive and kicking, every single time the sun brings us the freedom to live another day.

Freedom lies within too. It’s the right we give ourselves to make a good life out of what we have.

Freedom to make a choice.

Freedom to think differently.

Freedom to change.

Freedom to accept change.

Freedom to point out mistakes.

Freedom to admit our own mistakes.

Freedom to live on our terms.

Freedom to go on.

Freedom to stop.

Freedom to take the leap.

Freedom to fly.

Wishing everyone a Happy Independence day. May you do something different this time round.

May you find freedom from your own inhibitions and break out of your own prejudices and self induced limitations.

check this out. just remembered. Seems relevant today.

To HappYness..

Sun sets at the horizon at the end of the day,

White waves surge, on the slippery rocks, they fray..

Under a bent tree, on the eerie sand, I lay

Surrounded by nothingness, I let my mind stray..

The moonless night looks down at me,

North star shines with glee..

Blinding mist engulfs thy sight,

In the haven of solitude, I am inspired to indite..

Salty wind blows wildly on my face

Losing track of time, in nature’s embrace.

Shells askew in the twilight shine

Midnight brings a chill down my spine..

Away from the crowd, the hustle, the noise

A welcome change, hearing your inner voice..

In a distance, my friends call, scared and frantic

I wave back and soon I aint alone,

Cheer, joy and camaraderie atone..

Loneliness disappears in the magic of music..

When my city cries..

Somethings get etched onto your mind forever. Some nightmares scare you, some thoughts anger you, some fears haunt you and some tears drown you…

And none of these emotions come even close to what I feel today. Maybe even I am shallow enough to remember it only on its anniversary and express my opinion only now. But to be honest, never since(26/11)  have I looked at the Taj without that grey shade lingering in my mind. Never have I walked in a  public place without a lookout for something suspicious. Never have I felt safe. Never again have I lived completely. Because somethings get etched onto your mind forever…

It goes beyond 26/11 or Mumbai local train serial blasts. When you find terrorists bombing and destroying the very place you grew up spending half your life, places which define your childhood, places of fond memories, you break…

You can’t take it when your city cries and you are standing there witnessing everything helplessly… And all you can do is light a candle a year later or pay your respect by sitting in the same cafe having beer, showing that nothing has changed. “We stand tall”, we boast. But what about all the things we have lost? What about the things we still fear to lose? What about those glimpses of bloodstained corridors and platforms that still haunt us?

Our city has not stopped crying..it never can…not until we give ourselves a truly satisfactory explanation as to the steps we have taken to punish the guilty and to prevent a recurrence. And needless to say, we are nowhere close to that.

Can I venture out of my house and look back and say “I will be back” with confidence? I want to believe that I can. But again, you can’t fool yourself. I am not safe when my city cries..

I can’t move on..I can’t get over it. But nor do I want to find every news channel having round table conferences about what went wrong and who is to be blamed. Nor do I want to read that Rs. 31 crore have been spent to keep a mass-killer alive. Nor do I find pleasure in knowing that one year later, all Pakistan has done is finally press charges against a couple of terrorists involved in the blast. Nor do I want to wait for a long fair trial. I want to get over with it. Put a full-stop to the endless chain of investigations and controversies that follow a terrorist attack only to be broken by another attack. And the vicious cycle continues..and my city continues to cry…

I look up at the sky and see free birds flying fearlessly. I love my city’s pale blue skies. To me they symbolize the infinite scope of progress, happiness and hope that Mumbai has to offer. To me they define freedom and peace. And I do not want to see the night sky lighted up in the blazing fire of terrorism again. What has left my city in tears is not just the act of terrorism, it is the fear that follows..

Connecting to yourself..

Somethings make more sense to us than others. Somethings strike a cord somewhere and sometimes we can identify with them at a whole new level. And at that point, you have this sense of excitement, joy and self realization.

It is the time when you just connect.

Have been listening to a lot of ‘Wake up Sid’. Sometimes shallow commercial movies also can have somethings to teach. Some feelings to express. Some logic and some words of encouragement.

Just hum these lines to yourself, they are as if, written only for you.

“yeh jo kahein woh jo kahein sun lo

baat jo sahin dil ko lage chun lo

karana hai kya tumhe yeh tum hi karo faisala

yeh soch lo tumakao jaana hai kahaan

tum hi musaafir tum hi toh ho kaarwaan.”

The next stanza is simply brilliant. Seems like an extension of me.

“Aaj bhi dekho kal jaisa hi na ho

aaj bhi yuun na tum sote hi raho

itane kyun sust ho kuchh kaho kuchh suno, kuchh na kuchh karo

ro padon ya hanso jindagi mein koyi na koyi toh rang bharo.”

I could repeat it a hundred times to myself and yet feel the connection each time I hear it.

Live life. Break free. Redefine your horizons. Please your heart. Look beyond the obvious. Take that leap.  Get hurt. Fall down. Stand up again.Do something.ANYTHING!

Mumbai under the moon

Empty roads. No need for brakes or horns for minutes. No street fights, no beggars, no haphazard road crossing by pedestrians. No over-smart rickshaws. No rash BEST drivers. Clearly not the Mumbai we live in right? Well it’s not the Mumbai you see during your busy day. It’s the Mumbai under the moon.

Not every day do you get permission to be out late night. At least I don’t. So when I did, there was no turning back. The windows went down and the music volume went up. No, there was no liquor. I have not really understood the need for it, but from what I have heard, it’s all about the ‘kick’. Well Mumbai was more than enough to provide the kick, and feeling the gush of cool air on our faces as we cut through the silence of the night, was our absolut alcohol.

After 11 in the night, boundaries and borders don’t exist. It’s not about Andheri, Bandra, Worli or Churchgate anymore. Coz on those blessed traffic-less roads, you seem to fly past everything in a flash.

From college to Bandra over the sea link to Worli and finally to Nariman point and back was the basic idea. Or so it seemed.

The sea link is a magical place. And it is divine at night. With the dark sea on one side and the glistening skyline of Mumbai on the other, with the salty waves dashing on the humongous pillars and adrenaline pumping in you as you literally glide on that magnificent marvel with a sense of pride, excitement and most of all, coming out of it overwhelmed by the whole experience, the Bandra Worli sea link is surely worth all the 10 years of shit gone into its making. All through, we all had our heads out of the windows and ‘Wake up, Sid!’ blasted on your eardrums. Each one was in his/her own world, taking in the best of Mumbai.

Nights are supposed to be peaceful. We had broken the silence. After the initial enthu slowly died down, came the real beauty of the city. Worli to Nariman Point was a relatively calm and the Queen’s necklace was another spectacular sight. We drove in silence. Taking in all the hustle bustle on those streets even at this hour.

After a small halt there, it was time to turn back. The clock was ticking and the dreaded call was imminent.

Worli sea-face was where we actually got down. Our legs had been cramped for a long time and it was time to experience Mumbai the real way. First we stood there looking at the black sea. We could only see the white foam as the waves hit the rocks. Something was missing.

I cautiously sat on the parapet and everyone followed. Then we slowly stood up. And then it was only the endless sea. And then its only about you. You and the unseen horizon. You and the unknown. And suddenly the unknown had a tremendous calming effect. The salty wind softly blew on my face and my hands were lifted involuntarily. Though it may seem really funny, I loved my brief feeling of being at the best place on earth. There couldn’t have been a more right place and a more right time for this.

I could stand there forever and be the happiest person on earth. That moment was peace for me. But the ‘moma ringtone’ screeched through the tranquil atmosphere and my heart skipped a beat.”Where are you? Who is dropping you? You said you would be back by 12.” “Coming aai, I am near santacruz. Traffic ahe.” ”I have been staying here for 45 years sweetheart and I am your mother. Stop lying and come home.” The line went dead. “ I am screwed” is all I had to say and the race against time began.

Back on the sea link, everyone was silently enjoying the breathtaking view and the untimely rain was like the cherry on top!

You and your city would always connect. Because you know it in and out. You know its best and you are aware of its worst. And you live through both.

I can never have enough of Mumbai. And it is times like these when you know, what you blindly love is actually worth so much more.

I DID NOT VOTE

No this isn’t some kind of anti-voting philosophy. Neither is this my answer to the ‘pun intended’ middle fingers flashing on front pages of newspapers, social networking sites or blogs.

Well, I would have liked to vote. It is, after all, our biggest right and duty as well. It makes you a responsible and vigilant Indian. Still I did not vote. Or rather I couldn’t. More on that later. Basically, I wanted to. Not that I was very hopeful that my one vote or even ten million votes of us Mumbaikars would really make that big a difference. Still, had I got my voter’s ID, I would have, to exercise my right in this rather limited framework.

I know you would object. Limited scope?!! You get to choose your government. You even get to contest elections under most circumstances, as long as you are an Indian. Yes, I agree it’s a system ideal for todays world and we are better off than most places across the globe. Still why are we not satisfied? Not happy? Why was the voters turnout low inspite of  Jaago re and Lead India or even the discounts provided at icecream parlours on showing the marked finger?

In short, give me one full proof reason why I should vote under the given circumstances? Assuming I do get my voters’ ID. To think of that, in this small unintended survey that I did, I found 25 people who I happened to discuss this with, who didn’t vote because their name didn’t feature in the voters list. Leaving almost half as lazy asses, still a respectable number of people did try to get one. I do understand the enormity of the situation. I know, we are a hundred billion people waiting to make that one decision. Still, if in a city like Mumbai we don’t get things done efficiently, I don’t even need to imagine the situation in remote rural areas.

Holidaying and laziness and pessimism can hold back votes. Yes, that’s an area to work on.

You know what, I had predicted the low turnout. Not that I am some analyst. Plain common sense. If I am reluctant to choose between two equally incompetent candidates,then why wouldn’t half the population?

People say vote for independent candidates because they are not adulterated by selfish political partys’ views. But whats the use? Lets face it. Finally its between Congress and BJP. Do you really like either? Because I cant choose. An independent candidate cant change the nation even if he wanted to. Not in the current framework. I am not cynical here. Just practical.

There isn’t anything specific that I would want to say here. I don’t have a solution to this vicious circle of ‘why should  I stand for elections when I can go abroad and earn in dollars-politics is bullshit- so illiterate or power hungry people contest elections- no good candidate to vote for- so I wont vote- 5 years I will crib and ridicule the government- end of it I am more cynical than before and back to square one.

Even if we realize there is a flaw, which needs to be discussed, half the battle is won.

I know we don’t like to be told that we are wrong. That years of doing one thing is wrong or needs to be changed. We don’t like to be shown our faults. I don’t say that our constitution is wrong. Its perfect. Better than so many around. But when its interpreted and actually put to use, something somewhere is going amiss. When you realize that this is a problem, getting a solution isn’t that big a deal.

Surely something is wrong somewhere, because inspite of being the proud Indian that I am, I am not too sad I DID NOT VOTE.

** The story we are following will be continued. Couldn’t hold this back. Totally my views. So don’t pounce on me.

Sea of Life

The night is dark and so is my mind

At the shore I sit before the black sea,

Long waves break on rocks splashing water on me

Still I sit, drenched with thoughts, and a way out to find…

Way out of what, I ask

Not a speck of light till far far away,

Not even an idea to put to task

Or even the right direction, so to say…

One sudden urge and into the water I dive

Clueless of the way, but the opposite shore I eye,

Dashed onto rocks, spilled blood into salty waters,

Long hours had gone, in the sea of life I was hardly alive

Still that tiny voice said,” hell it was worth a try!”

Atleast I used my time, I thought

Time which was truly mine,

Made a start, felt the waters

Instead of sitting on the border line…

Content with my deeds I drifted

The pain had died out,

Or was it still there?

Dawn broke and so did my dream,

Dream of finding the opposite shore,

“It is not a river but a sea, my dear”

The tiny voice was not tiny anymore.

It brightened the skies and vanished all the dark fear…

It said,

Wherever you go, you will find land

Keep moving ahead with destiny in your hand.

The sea wasn’t black, the night was…

The mind wasn’t dark, the time was…

And then it rose, emerging at the horizon

That ray of light…that hopeful sun…

The sea felt like home,

The shore still unknown

But I slowed down and patiently looked around,

The land at the end was anyways going to be found…