Showing posts with label love and relationships. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love and relationships. Show all posts

Sunday, June 13, 2021

Time...


You can never know when,
You've had the last conversation,
With people you love...
When those final words,
Are all you will have,
To cherish and behold,
For the rest of your lives.
Words that replay on loop,
Every time you think of them,
Making you realize, yet again, 
That this fleeting time,
Is all, but slipping away,
Like grains of sand,
From the palm of your hand.

Wednesday, February 17, 2021

Two sides of the coin...



Have you ever heard the saying, “Having one child makes you a parent, having two, makes you a referee!”

If you are one of those, left blowing the whistle all the time, frantically pulling out strands of hair from your own head each time there’s a fight, you’d probably be nodding your head in agreement with me!

Has it ever occurred to you that the first one to complain, always meticulously tips the odds in their favour? How you are almost inclined to believe everything that they say, coming to a speedy conclusion that the other one is most definitely wrong? What do you do then? Do you pounce on the other one who hasn’t been giving a fair chance to put their side forth? Or do you make an attempt to listen to both sides of the story and then draw your own conclusions?

As a parent, we are sometimes forced to come to a decision – who’s right, who’s wrong? And many a time, we succumb. We look at it from the angle that looks best to us and pronounce our verdict. But that’s where I want you to pause and reflect.

Is coming to a decision that important? What impact does pronouncing your verdict have on the morale of the one whose side you have forsaken? Will it ruin relationships in the long run? If you don’t want to take sides, is there anything else you can do?

Well, I have been tempted to prove myself to be a fair judge when it has come to resolving quarrels between my children. But over time, I’ve found that I have also managed to hurt the other one unwittingly. That’s when I choose to pause and reflect. And the more I reflect, I also realise that this applies to every aspect of our relationship – be it a quarrel between spouses, between family members, between friends, or even at the workplace.

Why should there be a quarrel or fight between two people?

I’ve always heard my mother tell me, that just as all five fingers on our hand are different, so are people and their opinions. We are conditioned differently, we have learned differently, we have different experiences about life, and we have faced our struggles differently. How then can we think alike? We are bound to disagree.

But just because we disagree, does one person become right and the other wrong? Each one is right from their own point of view.

When it comes to siblings, we may argue that they have been brought up in similar environments, and have had similar life experiences and struggles, then why the difference? While that is true, how can we forget that they still continue to be different individuals?  

 

Do personal biases creep in when we are the judge?

We may say, that as parents, we really do not have favourites, when it comes to our children. While we may not have favourites, we do tend to go by previous experiences when dealing with our children. The one who has frequent temper tantrums, the one who habitually lies to escape punishment, the one who has anger issues, automatically finds odds against them even before the entire issue has been listened to! How often have we jumped to conclusions like - ‘The younger one is naughty, it is possible that he broke the vase’, ‘the elder one is always bossy, it is possible that he hit the little one,’ ‘he is well behaved all the time, he couldn’t have screamed at his friend.’     

When we solve fights between our children and their friends, the bias becomes pronounced. It is easy to take sides when we know just one of them – right or wrong, be damned (pardon the language). It is equally true when are dealing with two people having a disagreement, the weight always tips in favour of the one we know better.   

 

Are our one-sided decisions ruining relationships?

Definitely. Hearing only one side of the story, means we have no understanding at all.

I remember reading somewhere that, ‘Too many people speak after hearing just one side a story. Judging a situation without being there and knowing the actual facts, ruins lives and relationships. So it is best to know the full story before attacking someone and making false accusations.’       

Profound, right?

I found that whether it is a fight between my children or between adults, the first storyteller always modifies the story to suit their own agenda or for their own benefit. In a fight, everyone wants themselves to look innocent or good. Hardly anyone is going to own up to their own goof-ups.

The little one will sometimes come to me and say, ‘Dada hit me. I was completing my work, I didn’t do anything.’ Now I know the elder one is the stronger one, and he has bullied the younger one on some occasions, so do I lash out at the elder one based on the version given by the younger one? Do I take him to the task? Would I be right to judge without hearing the other side of the story?

Accusing someone takes a second, but the impact it has on their morale is immense. It leaves one with a feeling of not being trusted enough. It leaves them with an impression of being alone in an unfair world. And this is as much true for adults as it is for children.  

 

Is being a judge so important?

Children do keep quarreling all the time. the disagreements are bound to happen. Are we going to be pushed to take on the role of a referee all the time? 

Though thousands of books have been written on parenting, nothing teaches you to be a good parent except your own experiences! We learn from our errors and lapses in judgment.

Being a parent has taught me certain things. I’ve learned to listen to both sides of the argument without any bias in my mind. But most importantly, I’ve realised that only listening is important; a judgment is totally unnecessary. I only end up hurting one child if I support the other. No matter what the situation is, both have their own reasons why they did what they did.

What children need is not to tell them who is right or who is wrong, but to talk to them about their actions and see if anything could be done differently. Toning down my angry voice and talking to them calmly, resisting the urge to say, ‘You shut up and listen to me first,’ and letting them see how the same situation could have been handled differently, are some things that have helped me bring a sense of peace in the house.

Just listening to them, or maybe giving them a different perspective, has worked wonders. In the end, my goal is to make them love each other and respect each other’s boundaries without overstepping their own. By judging their actions, by holding them accountable, by hurting their feelings, or by punishing them, I realise that they are more likely to drift apart, hating each other rather than knowing that despite the differences, they should have each other’s best interest at heart.

 

Can we agree to disagree?

Whether it is at home or at the workplace, it helps to understand that not everyone can agree with you. They are as entitled to their opinions as you are to yours. Not agreeing with you does not make them a bad person, unless someone is doing it out of malice. Is it not possible to coexist being individuals with diverse opinions, each as unique as the person having them? Are our opinion and judgment so important that we place them above our relationships with others?

Can we just agree to disagree? Can we realise that there are indeed two sides to a coin?

  

 

 

Tuesday, June 16, 2020

"I'm just a call away!" - Really?



Every time we hear that someone has died of suicide, there’s suddenly a lot of palpable interest in the subject. People gather actively on social media, the status of the deceased is discussed – was wealth or the lack of it, the cause of this extreme step? Was it relationships? Was it failure? – the curiosity to know what drives a person over the edge. Maybe, they are genuinely concerned too. But often, we forget that even in death, people deserve their privacy.

Then, there are the speculators – blaming circumstances, and people for the tragedy.  

And last but not the least, there are people posting statuses like, ‘I’m just a call away’, ‘Call me if you need to talk’, I’ll be there for you.’

Noble. Very noble. But pretty pointless.

Wait, don’t fly into a rage, yet!

Because a few days into this tragedy and all is forgotten! It takes another tragedy of this proportion to get people talking about mental health and depression, again.

If you are one of those who want to help someone who is depressed so that they don't do something drastic, maybe this post could help. 

But first, the question that we often have in our mind... 

Is depression real?

Yes! Depression is as real as any other illness.

Don’t belittle someone who is feeling depressed by saying, it’s all in the mind, why don’t you try meditation, stop thinking about your problems… no, it doesn’t work that way.

Depression can push people into a state of hopelessness. And when there’s no light at the end of the tunnel, they might give up. It’s often not just their life that they want to end, it could be the trauma they are undergoing, or a feeling of guilt that has overtaken them, or maybe a feeling of worthlessness that has washed over them.                              

We live in a society and rejection is something we cannot face. We want to be accepted in our respective groups. We look for approval, for appreciation. Being isolated could make one depressed. 

 

How would you know who is depressed?   

We could perhaps never put a finger as to who could be depressed. Depressed people try really hard to look happy in public, so we wouldn’t know for sure unless we know them personally. Rather they would not have us know that they are depressed. So that is why I said, putting up statuses, and making yourself available to talk, is pointless.

Don’t put up a status offering help and consider your job done. No one is voluntarily going to approach you for help.

Imagine you are worried about something. Whom would you talk to? Some random stranger who had offered to talk to you if you need an ear? Would you do that? No?

Then what is the possibility that a person who has had enough of life, so much that they are contemplating suicide, will call you and talk to you about it? 

So back to the question, you want to help but how would you know someone is depressed?

Depression does not strike in a day. It’s not like, someone who is fine one day will suddenly become depressed the next day. Events and small incidents keep piling up over months, possibly years. When it stretches beyond tolerable limits, they break down.

Is there anything you can do to help?

Definitely!

1. Look out for people in your circle.

We don’t have to look at strangers asking them if they need help. I don't mean that you shouldn't help strangers. Strangers are not going to open up to anyone randomly. 

But, there are enough people around us – our family, our friends, our employees, our colleagues, our neighbours. Look out for them. Are they going through a difficult time?

Is there a student at home or in your neighbourhood who is writing an important exam and feel they might not succeed? Is there a relative or friend who has lost near and dear ones recently? Is someone facing a financial crisis? Has someone lost their job recently? Is someone going through post-partum stress? Has anyone in their family been hospitalised for a long duration? There could be many more triggers.

Many people do handle all or some of these issues in life and they do pretty well too. But not everyone is sailing in the same boat.

2. Keep the door open for them.

When someone is already dead, it’s easy to say, had I known, I would have done something. But, most of the time, we turn our backs to them when they are struggling. Maybe it is the fear that we might be asked for financial assistance and we might not be able to provide that. But, there are several ways to get financial assistance, and we could at least show them the way. They just need to know that we know their pain.

If we are dealing with a student who fears failure, they need to be counseled. They must know that the parents will continue to support them no matter what. Extra coaching can be given to help with understanding the lessons. But it is the family who has to anticipate what the child’s requirement is and hold hands from the beginning.  

If someone is unable to cope with the loss of a loved one, give them time to heal. Hang along, even if they don't want you to. Cook them meals, take care of their children, or buy them groceries.

If you find they are susceptible to self-harm, help them to get counseling – either from a doctor or from an understanding family member.

Don’t quote examples from your own life, as tempting as it might be! It is very demeaning to the person who is already suffering.

If you can’t be bothered to help when there’s time, then don’t lament when it’s too late.

3. Spend time with them.

If you have committed yourself to help a person during their tough time, you must know that it is long term commitment. It might take years of your time. No one can get better in a day or two. So think before you offer help. Don't disappear after promising to be there. This is one major reason why a depressed person will not open up to anyone. It's important to have their trust.

Often, when someone’s depressed, life seems dark. It is difficult to look at the bright side of life when all your mind wants to do, is see the dark side. Listen to them. Don't talk to them about your experiences!

They could need to be reassured that they are good at what they do, they could need to be urged to let go of things that are hurting. You'll know what they need, only if you listen.

4. Teach them to face adversity.

Life is never going to be hunky-dory. All will never be well. There will be phases when there are bound to be failures, or heartbreaks, or loss, or grief. Teach them to be brave and tough during such times.

Facing adversity has to be ingrained in children right from childhood. Many parents don't realise this. They get over-protective of their children. They don't let them fall. They use yardsticks to measure success. As a result, the child never learns that it's okay not to succeed all the time. It's important to let our children know that they are not going to win all the time. 

To that jittery teen, you could say, ‘Put in your best effort. But despite that, if you fail, it’s ok. We will pick up the pieces again. we will try again. We will do something else if this is too difficult.’  

A woman going through post-partum stress needs to know that she’s not alone. You could let her know that you understand and will be there to help in whatever way possible instead of ridiculing her for being difficult, or acting weird or telling her that she is more fortunate than women unable to bear children, or wondering what’s wrong with her that she cannot enjoy motherhood! Tell her, ‘It’s ok to not want to hold your baby. I’ll help you take care of it. You eat healthily and take care of yourself.’

5. Avoid the urge to put people down.

Many a time, we might not be able to invest so much time with a person, especially if they aren’t your close relative or friend. Yet, there’s a lot that you can do.

Do you think you talk down someone at the workplace? Do you talk behind the back of your family members? No? Think again.

Everyone is in a game of one-upmanship. Everyone wants to be in the good books of people who matter to us – like a parent, an employer, a teacher, or even the mother-in-law!  Subconsciously or purposefully, we might be belittling people all the time. 

'X committed this mistake, I rectified it.’  

‘Z is such a bad parent.’ 

'You're not going to fit in that dress!' 

'Your brother is smarter than you!'

It may seem insignificant, but over the years, you end up effectively turning your ‘perceived power center’ against the other person. So much, that it starts affecting their confidence, their self-respect, their perception of self-worth.  You would have no idea that you have silently been gnawing at their mind while being blissfully unaware of it.

Curb the tendency to talk bad about someone. Stop isolating someone because they don’t fit into your ideas. Open your mouth only if you have something good to say about someone.

If someone has committed a mistake, let them know it upfront. If your motive is to help them learn from their mistake, then, it is them you should directly be talking to, not everyone else.  

There’s a saying, ‘Criticise privately, appreciate openly.’

To summarise…

Pick up the signs. Don’t ignore possible triggers.

Keep communication lines open.

Spend time with people you care about.

Keep them ready to face failure.

Be kind…to everyone. Don’t put people down. 

(This is not a self-help post for people suffering from depression. It is for those who want to help, but don't know how to. I hope this helped.)  


*Disclaimer: The opinions expressed in this post are mine. This post is not a substitute for professional /medical advice. 

   

 

 

 

          

 

 

 

                                 


Tuesday, December 4, 2018

The end of an era...


Today marks the end of an era…if I may call it so. 

Our ‘family doctor’, Dr. Upadhyaya, passed on to the other world leaving a void that will remain unfulfilled for eternity.

In this day and age, the concept and idea of a family doctor might sound ridiculous and even sneer-worthy, not so in those days. Today, we have specialists and super specialist. Someday we might have super ‘super’ specialists who would specialise in your left nostril alone or the cornea of your right eye! But no sire, not in those days! The family doctor would be a specialist for every part of your anatomy, every age, and gender. And we did pretty well together, without ever having the need to visit a specialist!

Every family would have a family doctor – a doctor, friend, philosopher, basically, a know-it-all person whom they’d trudge to in sickness and in health. Yes, in health too! Someone who would know you and your entire family inside out. To whom we would happily pay a visit should we be sick. A person who would be by your bedside regardless of the time of the day or night. A person who would attend your family functions like a family member.

Dr.Upadhyaya was our family doctor. He has treated me since I was a three-month-old baby. We never called him doctor, he was always doctor uncle to us. He would always know what ailed us. He would know if our problems were due to stress, hereditary, real or imagined. He would offer us much more than medicines. Sometimes, it would be a friendly advice, sometimes a joke shared over a cup of tea, and sometimes a sterner warning to follow what he prescribed. The one thing that he had was – time! Time for us…time that he would spend with his patients. Time spent talking to them.  Time, that was rewarding in more ways than one.

I remember the night my mother suffered an acute attack of abdominal pain. It was 11pm when my dad frantically rang up doctor uncle after debating whether he should disturb doctor at that time of the night. Doctor uncle had just reached home after wrapping up a busy evening. But unmindful of the distance and time, he drove straight to our home and attended to my mother. What simple times we lived in!

When my granny passed away, he chose to counsel my mom instead of administering her antacids for her acidity. She was cured without a single dose of medicine! He knew that her misery was due to stress.

He knew our birthdays and we knew his! He never forgot to wish me even after I had shifted to Bangalore. And I never forgot to wish him or pay him a visit whenever I’d go home. His association with my parents has been over 4 decades long! He was not just a family doctor to us but to all our family friends too! Can such associations be even imagined today?

With his demise,  the era of family doctors has come to an end. As much as I tried, I haven’t found anyone like him.

You will be sorely missed. Rest in peace doctor uncle. Om Shanti.



Saturday, June 17, 2017

The Fault in our Stares.

Ah! The thrill of spotting a rainbow!

Like, it had chosen for her to see it, not the other way around.

She had drawn umpteen rainbows while in school. Finely arched lines on a blue sky, seven colours beautifying its outlines, slanting rain drops in the background, a smiling orange sun, its rays scattered all around, birds flying across the rainbow and a few puffy clouds to add to the theatrics...it was always the same. As she had grown up, the smudging had given way to cleaner lines, the blue sky got speckled with grey tones, sometimes, orange and pink too, the clouds became ill-defined and natural, puddles and umbrellas dotted the scene and a whole other paraphernalia came into existence on paper. But the seven coloured rainbow was always a staple on the rain scene.


As she looked at the rainbow today, she noticed for the first time how faint and indistinguishable the colours were from each other, how sepulchral the sky looked even in face of such a joyous moment sweeping across it, how life seemed brighter on one side and darker on the other side of the rainbow and how the rainbow was the brightest just after the rain. There was no orange sun smiling from behind the puffy clouds - just a subtle trace of its presence somewhere, no slanting rain drops and no birds flying across the rainbow. And if she looked closely enough, she could even spot a twin-rainbow.



The reality was so different from what she had been imagining all along! That a rainbow could give her such a deep and defining moment, was not something she'd have thought. The fault had really been in her stare! 


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Join me and fellow bloggers as we run a fortnight of blogging marathon madness at BlogAThon!! 

Friday, December 16, 2016

Time Heals!


‘Antara, why don’t you clean your room today, beta,’ said her mother. ‘Diwali is in a few days anyway.’

‘What? Don’t tell me you haven’t cleaned my room for the past 3 Diwalis!’ exclaimed Antara acting shocked.

 ‘Hahaha, no, no, your room is being cleaned every day, but I haven’t touched your bookshelf. Check what you need and whatever you don’t put it in this carton, I’ll give it away,’ said her mother handing her a carton.

Antara was home for Diwali after a long time and just seeing the preparations - the cleaning, the decorations and sweets and savory being prepared made her realise how much she had missed home. She walked to her bookshelf and smiled. She ran a happy finger over the books, bent over and took a deep long breath, inhaling the dusky smell of her books. It brought back so many memories!

‘Looks like you are going to stand here all day without getting anything done,’ chided her mother.

‘Hahaha, no ma, I’m getting on the job right away!’ she said taking out the first stack of books. ‘College books first,’ she told herself. At the top of the stack was the familiar ink blue cover staring at her. ‘Mr. Kotler! How I’ve missed you!’ she said fondly picking up the marketing management book by Philip Kotler and blowing off the dust on the top. ‘I can’t possibly part with you!’ she said holding it close to her body. One by one she looked at the books and by the time she had finished with the stack, very few books were in the carton to be thrown away.

Suddenly, her eyes caught something at the end of the stack. ‘You are here!’ she exclaimed, ‘I thought I had lost you!’ she picked up a diary with a warm brown leather cover and the year 2013 inscribed on it.  She opened the diary and flipped through the pages. Farewell messages from her friends occupied the pages, some neatly written, some hastily scribbled but all of them exuding the love and affection they shared. She read them one after the other, letting nostalgia flood her again.

 ‘I still remember that lucky shoulder of mine that gave you support when you fell asleep during our field trip to Mumbai’, Nishanth had scribbled. She laughed at the memory. The Mumbai-Goa trip! What fun!

 ‘You were my right hand (literally!) when I suffered a fracture’, her best friend Saanch had written. She had filled in three complete pages before signing off, ‘You are the best! I’ll miss you!’  She kissed the page and hugged the diary, ‘You are the best too, Saanch!’

Then her eyes fell on a folded piece of paper neatly tucked into one of the pages. She instantly knew what it was. She held in her hand for some time debating if she should open it. ‘One last time,’ she promised herself. She opened the folds spreading the A4 sheet of paper and proceeded to read it contents. She had not addressed it to anyone, but she knew whom it was for.


“That evening is so vividly etched in my mind. It seems like yesterday, but almost a year has passed. Nothing about the evening seems farce to me. Everything was as true as truth can be. The feelings, the emotions and the words. They came out in a torrent as if they had been waiting for years for that momentous evening and when it finally came, it washed us away and drenched us in love. I would like to believe that every word was said as it was meant. I hope no one tells me otherwise or it will leave me heartbroken and I will never be able to place my trust on anyone ever again. I trust every word that you said. It stirred feelings within me like never before. It took me to heights I had never climbed before. It was dizzying but I trusted that you will hold me if I were to fall. You did not see me explode with joy when you said the three magical words nor did you see my hands shake and tremble as I said them to you. It seemed wrong but felt so right.

When I think about it, nothing has ever felt more right. Never have I expressed myself more languidly before. Never have I felt so free as I gave wings to my feelings. Yes, I have loved you wholly and completely. I have put my trust in you. You have been in my thoughts every waking hour. You have been in the songs that I listen to. You have been in the books that I read and in the words that I write. It feels like you silently crept inside me and became a part of me.

Sometimes, I wonder why that moment was fleeting. Why did it not last? It got over before it even began. Why then am I still in that girdle? Why cannot I lift myself out of it? Were your words not true? Did you not speak your mind? Were you not as much in love? If you were, then why did you let go of me? Why did you tell me how much I mean to you if I did not?

I refuse to believe you lied. I refuse to believe that was fake. Tell me that everything about that evening was true. Tell me that whatever is holding you back is not me. Tell me that you love me as much as I do. I secretly pray that you love me as much as you said you do. I pray that someday you'd say it again. Just like you did that evening. And this time you'd not run away.

Why are you running away? From whom are you trying to escape? Is it from me? Or from yourself? Maybe from circumstances? Or maybe from destiny? Maybe we were not meant to be. Maybe we will never be too. But does that take away from us the right to love? I want nothing more than for you to tell me that you love me too. This is my wish that I send out to the universe. I hope it is listening and I hope it will come true someday.

I will wait...even if it takes forever. I cannot describe how much I miss talking to you. I miss the way you made me feel. I miss the wit, the humour, the jokes. I miss the way you cared, I miss the tenderness. I miss your words, your voice, your love. I miss you. I do.’

She folded the piece of paper and placed it where it was. She smiled. That surprised her because she remembered the day she had written this. Tears wouldn’t stop flooding her face even as she tried to put her feelings on paper. And she had cried on the innumerable occasions she had read it after that. But today, she could smile. She wondered why she had never posted the letter. But today she realised that she had done the right thing not posting it. It was surprising, that today those emotions were gone. It was hard to believe that she could have felt such an intense emotion for someone. She remembered what a nervous wreck she was those days. If someone had told her that three years down the line all this would look so distant and would not matter anymore, she could have strangled them. But it was true. Those memories were indeed distant and they didn’t matter to her anymore. They were only memories now and she had been able to make peace with them. 

Whoever said ‘time heals’ was right.


She opened her purse and looked at the picture of her husband Abhishek smiling at her. It took her three years to realise that it was the right decision choosing not to wait. That forever would have been truly forever! For the first time, she was glad the universe had not listened to her!     

Friday, August 5, 2016

Tiny Shoes



I look at the pair of tiny shoes,
Warm and fluffy and yellow,
And think of the times when it adorned the feet, 
Of a sweet little fellow.
These are my little one's shoes!!

I trace the tiger’s face on them, 
And feel the glow in its eyes,
It reminds me of the scare he had, 
And thereafter, his incessant cries!

I measure his tiny shoes, 
Against the palm of my hand,
And then I look at him and realise, 
How tall he now stands.


It is in these shoes that he learnt to walk,
After falling a hundred times,
In them, he learnt to kick the ball,
And dance to melodious rhymes. 

He’d wear these shoes, play music, 
And do a cute little jig,
But time has run so quickly away, 
And my baby’s grown so big.

No matter how large his shoes become, 
No matter they take him wherever,
I know I’ll love him and hold him close,
In my heart forever.

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Written for the prompt "Tiny Shoes" as a part of the Bar-A-Thon - a - week long blogging marathon for bloggers. If you'd like to participate, or read what other bloggers have to say, visit the BAR for more details.
I'm with #Team Crimson Rush!

Thursday, August 4, 2016

Caught Red-handed..


Maya sifted through the contents of the drawer, muttering something under her breath.

‘We are getting late. Hurry up, Maya. You know how bad the traffic is.’

‘Two minutes, Ravi, I can’t find my pink lipstick,’ she said now shuffling through her purse.

‘C’mon, put on something else.’

‘It’s strange Ravi, but in the past couple of months a lot of my things have been disappearing – lipsticks, earrings, even some clothes.’

‘Who can steal these things? You must have misplaced them somewhere,’ he said picking up the car keys and heading out. ‘In the car, 5 minutes, be quick.’

‘Ravi, could it be Nakku? I mean, who else is there in the house?’

 ‘’You must be out of your mind, Nakku Bai is 70 yrs old, and she’s been a trusted servant of this house for the past 3 generations. My mom never had a complaint against her. And have you ever seen her put on lipstick? She wouldn’t even fit into your clothes. C’mon hurry up now, can’t we do this later?’

‘Okay, okay, I’ll think about it in the evening. Let’s go.’

Ravi was about to start his car, when she stopped him. ‘Hey, wait, Kiran’s college fees are due today, I’ll quickly go and give him the cheque.’

Ravi made a face. ‘Quick.’

She nodded and ran into the house. ‘Nakku Maushi,’ she called out, ‘Has Kiran left for college?’

‘He was sitting here watching TV,’ said Nakku. 'I think I saw him go to his room after you went out.'

This boy, she thought, he can sit all day watch TV but not remember to collect the cheque for his fees. When will he grow up? 

Maya hurriedly wrote a cheque and scampered to Kiran’s room. Kiran was not in the room. Maya sighed. Let me ask Nakku to give this to him, she thought. Just as she turned to leave, she heard the creak of the door.


Emerging from the closet believing his parents to have left for work, was Kiran, the pink lipstick on his lips, and her blue earrings dangling from his ear. 

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Written for the prompt "Caught Red-handed" as a part of the Bar-A-Thon - a - week long blogging marathon for bloggers. If you'd like to participate, or read what other bloggers have to say, visit the BAR for more details.
I'm with #Team Crimson Rush!

Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Whom do you confide in?


Sharing your problems with a friend or loved one can be pretty therapeutic.  It gives you the space to vent out your feelings, and makes you think more clearly about the problem at hand. But be careful about choosing that friend in whom you confide. I’m not saying friends are bad, but not all understand what you are going through. Not everyone knows what is right for you. 

The one with a ‘me-too’ saga-

I had sprained an ankle, and it was swollen and quite painful. Confined to the bed, I was chatting up with a friend. And the next thing he says is, ‘Come on don’t be such a wuss, you can do better than that. I had a fracture six months ago and I dealt with it so bravely.’ Yes, but you had people buzzing around you round the clock, supplying you food on the bed, carrying you to the washroom, and providing you everything that you needed. You didn’t have to bother about getting your kids ready for school, or limp around to cook, or tend to sick kids simultaneously.

There is this other friend who’ll always say, ‘Arre, yeh toh kuch bhi nahi hai (this is nothing), if you listen to my problems you’ll know how much I’m suffering.’

The point is, no two situations are comparable. Many people compare your experience with theirs and in the bargain, end up making your situation seem inadequate of eliciting strong emotions. 

The one who doles out Advice-

An advice cannot be universal. What applies to me cannot apply to someone else and what worked for me might not work for someone else.

A friend who had just had a miscarriage was told by her sister-in-law not to think about the baby. She advised her to start chanting and meditating. Yes, chanting helps. But this was not the time - maybe eventually, but not at that point. She was grieving, she needed time to first accept her loss and overcome her grief. How could you expect her to just start chanting? She needed someone to vent her anguish and share the precious memories of her pregnancy and the dreams she had for her baby.

When I was going through a difficult time with my mother-in-law, a friend advised me to go and get a job. It helped her, she said. It kept her away from her mother-in-law for the better part of the day. Great advice, maybe I’d take up a job, but not for the wrong reasons, and definitely not as an escape route. That wasn’t my medicine at that time.  Another friend told me to cut off the mother-in-law and be nasty to her. Her words? ‘Give her back nicely’. I didn’t want to do that – my m-i-l had taken care of me so many times, and she wasn’t a bad person. I’d have to be a monster to even contemplate such a thing. All I wanted to know was how to resolve the issue at hand.

But people give advice as per their own experiences. They have no idea about your background, your limitations and your way of thinking. They tell you what worked for them. But you aren’t them, are you?  

The one who barely ‘touches and goes’-

A friend Apu, once told me that whenever she’s upset, she calls upon her partner, Ani, to share her problems. Once she starts discussing her problems, Ani starts getting distracted and keeps changing the topic. After that she switches off her mobile, is not reachable or busy every time she calls her again. But when Ani is upset, Apu’s expected to lend a patient ear, give some advice and also be compassionate enough to relieve Ani from work for a few days. All take and no give, eh?

I had this, ‘if-there’s-any-problem-just-call-me-anytime’ friend, who’d do the disappearing act when I called on her more than once. She’d coax me to tell her what’s bothering me, and assure me she’d be there whenever I’d need her. But the very next time I pinged her, she’d not even bother with replying or taking my calls!

I get it, upset people are not the most interesting people to have conversations with, but you don’t expect problems to disappear immediately after some pep talk, right? Some issues persist for a long time, and if you are not up to giving your time, or lending a patient ear, don’t make false promises that you’ll be around.

The All-India-Radio-

There’s an opposite kind of friend who loves to smother me with her affection. She’ll put an arm around me, give me a warm hug, and coax me to ‘tell me everything’.  She’d be there whenever I’d ask to speak to her. She’d listen to everything I had to say. But even before I’d realise, the words would be floating all around and be the talk of gossip mills. As a result, more people would now give me their valuable advice, leaving me pretty embarrassed and feeling let down.

That one true friend-

All friends are not made equal - some empathise with you more than the others. But it doesn’t mean you should forsake the ones who don’t feel as you do. Every single friend has a different role in our lives – it’s just that you should know what kind of friends to keep away from sharing all your stuff and who are ones worth fighting for. 

If you have that one/few close friend/s who understands you, will put an arm around you when you are down, will listen to you rant and vent endlessly and sometimes just sit and watch the stars with you silently - when that’s all you want to do, count yourself lucky. Trust me, most of the times that's all that you need.



Wednesday, May 4, 2016

The Application...


The glass door flung open and she walked into the lounge, her hair scattered all over face, and her orange and pink dupatta flying about her as if announcing her arrival. Balancing her helmet, a purse and shades that had just got off her eyes in one hand, and a bunch of papers and what looked like a book in the other, she struggled to shake off the unruly hair from blinding her.

He sat gazing at her from his seat across the customer desk, his heart fluttering wildly like it always had when he saw her. He wished he could sweep her hair off her cheeks and tuck them behind her ear. As she tried to use the back of her palm to push her tresses away, the papers and book loosened from her grip and scattered on the floor. With the papers flying in all directions, she nodded her head in disapproval at her own clumsiness, cursing herself and then muttering an inaudible apology to no one in particular.

A damsel in distress, they say, is always the beneficiary of male sympathy! They weren't  wrong at all,  because  as soon as he saw her struggling with the scattered papers, he jumped off his chair  like it were a trampoline  and was beside her in no time!Together, they caught the papers like they were hens that had escaped the coop, and sighed in unison and smiled at each other when the task was completed. He escorted her to the chair opposite his desk and manoeuvred himself into his chair.

‘I’m so sorry Karan! Quite a mess I can be at times,’ she said apparently embarrassed.

‘C’mon, don’t beat yourself over it, Suma, I can be worse.’ he said trying to make her feel better.

Then a silence followed, neither speaking a word, looking into each other’s eyes as if expecting them to do the talking. And then suddenly aware of the obvious and shameless stares, she looked away smiling. The eye contact broken, he was shaken out of his reverie. He smiled too. ‘How can I help you today?’   

‘Ah, yes. I lost my pass book. So I need to issue a new book and check a few transactions. I think something doesn’t tally,’ she said.

‘Oh,’ he said making a face, ‘and I thought you had come to see me.’ He gave her a naughty grin.   

‘Why would I...’ she began, appearing surprised at first as if he had read her mind, and then she caught the naughtiness in his expression, ‘...not,’ she said cheekily, ‘in fact, meeting you was the main reason, the pass book was just an excuse’ she added playing along and they both burst out laughing.

He so wished what she had just said was true. Only ifwishes were horses...

Suma had been one of his earliest customers at the bank. He was smitten by her simplicity and jovial nature from the very first time he had seen her. Over time, they had become good friends and she would directly approach him whenever she needed to transact at his branch. He was more than happy to provide her all the services without making her stand in the queue.  Four years of knowing each other had finally begun to assume the form of an intense liking for her. They knew almost everything there was to know about each other - they were both foodies and shared a love for Italian cuisine. Both loved white water rafting, and travelling. They would often regale each other about their travelling exploits and favourite food spots. Something about the way she looked at him made him suspect that she reciprocated his feelings but he wasn’t too sure. He had been wondering for long if he should confess his feelings to her. But he was scared. What if she denied having such feelings for him, what if she got angry, what if she left never to return again. 

He shook his thoughts away and brought himself to the task at present.

‘Ok, write an application letter, addressed to me... I mean, the deputy branch manager’ he added sheepishly.

‘Help me...’ she said with pleading eyes and a pout. His soul leapt across the table and placed a quick kiss on her lips before the pout was gone, while his body sat still trying to feel what his soul had just experienced.

‘Sure’ he said plucking a sheet of A4 size paper from the printer feed tray, and placing it before her and handing her a pen.

‘Address it to me, ‘he said and waited till she filled the ‘To’ and ‘From’ details. Once she was done, he continued, ‘Dear Sir, I have lost my pass book.’ He looked at her as she scribbled what he was dictating, biting the corner of her lower lip between her teeth, a strand of silken hair teasing her cheek and her dupatta sliding down one shoulder exposing her collar bone. There was something different in the way she looked and behaved today and he could not quite put a finger to what it was.

She caught his gaze lingering on her lips and raised one eyebrow like only she could. It was a few seconds before he realised she had caught him staring at her, and he shyly glanced away, too embarrassed to meet her questioning looks. She smiled and continued writing as if nothing had happened.  She scribbled some sentences, signed it, neatly folded it in half and handed it to him. 

He sighed. He would perhaps never gather the courage to let her know. For now, he accepted the application and opened it to check if the details were correct.

‘Dear Karan,’ it read, ‘I have lost the pass book of my life. I am not sure the transactions of my emotions tally anymore. There are some missing entries, mainly those pertaining to my heart. I fear that someone has messed with them...could it be you? Kindly issue me your heart so that I can search if my missing feelings are in them. Do you think you could do that?’ and then it was signed, ‘Love, Suma.’

Wishes sometimes did come true!
  







   
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