An unusual love story

I have been reading Uma Trilok’s Amrita Imroz: A Love Story, I came across this sentence by Imroze, “A male can seldom look beyond the physical form of a female. He never tries to reach her soul, even as the woman fulfils all his needs, cooks for him, washes for him, gives birth to his children and so on.” His words caught me by surprise. I was wondering how a man could think so deeply for a woman. He was not married to Amrita. He was in love with her and so did she, but they never said ‘I Love you’ to each other. Yet they understand each other’s love. How could they say those words when every moment of their life was giving witness to the fact that they loved each other in a most civilized way where one does not impose himself/herself on the lover and respect and love his/her self-dependent existence. The above stated sentence seems strange when heard from a man’s mouth. A man can never understand a woman. When she gets married, she leaves everything behind. She leaves her house, her parents, her clothes and in some cases her name. She do everything for her man and what she gets in return…‘my family don’t like your name, lets change it to something else’. Reality is stranger than fiction…one gets to experience it when you see a woman compromising and adjusting day after day to fit into her new family. Yet after spending a couple of years in that house she is considered to be someone from outside. Her parents say, ‘this is no longer your house. Your husband’s house is yours now’. But when she is with her in-laws they say, ‘this is our house and you’ll have to live here in our way’. What an irony, inspite of having two homes, she is homeless. I’ve seen couples who are married for as long as three decades still the husband never said that he loves his wife. But with the younger generation being more broader in their outlook and more independent…what Imroz said could be understood by the GenZ men and a step towards an egalitarian society and ‘love’ ruling the minds!!!

Father of the Bride

Remember Steve Martin in the movie Father of the Bride. A father whose daughter is getting married is more anxious than the daughter herself…it’s hilarious but at the same time very stirring and tender. We cannot understand a father’s feelings and thoughts, what he feels when the daughter whom he has watched growing up, loved and pampered all his life is about to leave him in sometime soon. For whom he was the hero of her life for all these years, now suddenly going to be someone’s wife, someone’s daughter-in-law and stay in their house and leave this house for good. My dad has started behaving like this. He sometimes showers his love on me and every now and then looks at me so intently. I sometimes go red in face and sometimes I feel anxious of letting him go through all this. I’m persistently making efforts to help him accept and acknowledge the fact that I’m engaged and it’s all happening with his consent. But I think it is futile to reason the Father of the Bride to be. Because it isn’t the logic or rational thought that he wants to know, it’s the sentiments that he understands.

A Day to Remember

It’s been a day of such contentment when you have spent a portion of your day attending an imperative seminar cum workshop, meeting interesting people from across the country and another portion of your day with the most important person in your life. You talk to him over lunch and go for a long drive. Even if you do not say a thing to each other yet you enjoy the company. It’s really amusing how certain things you find silly at one point of time in your life you suddenly start enjoying those moments. I have certainly entered a new phase of life which is as significant as any other phase of my life that I have gone through. The beginning is good, hope it continues the same way and I take pleasure in acknowledging every new beginning and every new phase of my life.

Joining the brigade

Finally, I’ve said YES! I’ve said yes to tie the knot. I’m about to join the other side…I’m engaged!!!!! The feeling before and after saying those three letters is still the same…people say that you feel happy once you’ve chosen your partner. I’m happy but at the same time nervous. The day of engagement when we officially got engaged was an amalgamation of feelings of excitement, exhilaration, jumpiness, apprehension, and awkwardness.

The moment I entered the banquet hall, all eyes were on me….I’ve never been the centre of attraction when everyone present were scrutinising me from head to toe. I was tense with sweaty hands and stiff body. Each step towards the dais was incredibly heavy. It seems I’ve lost the sense of time. When I laid my eyes on the two bridal chairs on raised plateform, all those childhood memories came rushing, when as kids we took every opportunity to sit on those chairs meant for the bride and the bride-groom. The flash light of the camera brought me back to the present. The blinding lights were making me more nervous and I tried to look for my dad for solace. As soon as I approached the dais, the man….my husband to be…..extended his hand towards me and I took it….the thought of leaving my dad vanished coz now onwards I have two men in my life caring for me….my dad and this new man. I was feeling a bit awkward. Since I’ve never been with any guy in front of my parents and holding a guy's hand in full view of all the relatives and my heart skipped a beat. During ardaas my mind was in mayhem and myriad thoughts were crossing my mind. My throat choked with emotions. Then the moment came when we exchanged rings and he and his family made me feel so comfortable that I naturally became myself after a while. He was taking care of me when no body was around.

He ordered a cake for us; this was a very sweet gesture. He was constantly making efforts to make me feel at ease. He told me he’ll be wearing a suit but when I first saw him entering the banquet hall, he was wearing a golden coloured kurta and maroon turban. I always wanted my guy to wear this on our engagement and gave me such a pleasant surprise. When we were cutting cake, he looked for our parents for the cake cutting ceremony…..this put a big smile on my face coz I wanted my life partner to respect my parents the same way he respect his. When we sat for lunch…he did not touch his plate until my sisters settle down on the table to have lunch. We ate in the same plate and when the attendants were serving food, he always asked me before taking anything. He was so considerate that I felt as if I was sitting with a friend. His comfort level got passed on into me. He might be nervous as well but he never let it be evident on his face. Instead he made me feel succour all the time. When the event came to the close and we all went home…. I was in a state of bliss and tranquil. I found the one who’ll be mine and I’ll be his for eternity. Amen.

Went to Athens and returned in an hour….

Today, I travelled to Athens, marvelled its astounding ruins, appreciated its splendour, its exquisite city squares and returned back to Delhi, that too in just one hour. You think either I’m kidding or have gone nuts because what I’m saying is impossible. But I say it is possible and only books can make it possible. I’ve travelled to Athens through Sophie’s World, New York City through Nora Roberts, France and England through The Da Vinci Code, Michigan through Shadow Play, seventeenth century Europe through Wuthering Heights, British India through Godan, Hogwards through Harry Potter and many such beautiful cities which I cannot see otherwise in my short life span. Books make it possible for you to travel across time, in space, thousands of kilometres away in foreign lands while sitting in your living room or your bedroom or for that matter any place under the sun. ‘Books are for travelling without moving an inch’ (The Namesake). So I’ll be travelling many more cities and meeting many more fascinating people through my books. The journey continues…

My new life!

My mom said that it is a rebirth of a girl when she gets married. She starts a new life, with new people, in a new house and with someone whom she has just started to know. A girl dons a new avatar of a wife; a daughter-in-law, etc. (read chachi, mami, bhabhi.....). She leaves her house where she has spent her infancy, her childhood, her adolescence, where she had fought with her siblings, shared her intimate secretes with cousins, argued with her parents. She cannot do this in her new home. And if she did, then it would have dire consequences. She leaves her cupboard where she keeps her clothes, she leaves her bed where she has slept for so many years, she has to abandon each and every thing and moves into somebody else’s house, his room, his closet, she’s expected to forget her life and start afresh. Some girls change without much difficulty, those who can take changes easily. But someone like me who takes a lot of time to accept the change and accommodate accordingly, it is extremely intimidating. My apprehension about marriage is making me uncomfortable. But I will make a new beginning. I will make these new people my family and the new person as an extension of my own self. Wish me luck....

Eye Candy

Today, I was travelling in Metro with my younger sister. As usual I was engrossed in the book I was carrying for my daily Metro read. Suddenly she spoke, ‘there are a lot of eye candies in the Metro. Studying in a girls’ college seldom gives you a chance to see them.’ I asked her in bafflement, ‘what’s an eye candy?’ she replied, ‘a handsome looking guy.’ I thought for a moment and looked for an eye candy in the Metro. I noticed a guy, must be in his late twenties, wearing a pair of khakis and a cream coloured striped shirt. He was wearing rimless glasses. His lean physique and academic look appealed to me. I nudged my sister and said, ‘eye candy’. She looked at me in disgust and said, ‘that’s not an eye candy’. Then she scanned the bogie in search of a prototypical eye candy (according to her) and asked me to look at an ultra mod dude wearing branded clothes and listening music on his iPod. I argued that I found that man handsome so he’s an eye candy for me. But she obstinately stuck to her definition. I didn’t argue with her, rather took a last glimpse of my eye candy and retreat to my book and thought divergent sensibilities.

My Salt and Pepper look...

Today, while oiling my hair, I saw a grey strand in my hair. Though I’ll be celebrating my 25th birthday today, I thought of me getting old. I pictured my syntax Prof T, who has those beautiful grey and black hair, who call them his salt and pepper look, and wondered whether I will age as gracefully as him, whether I will have those beautiful silver grey and black hair. This very thought made me smile and I carefully combed my hair and placed it in such a way so that I could flaunt it. I thought of my salt and pepper look when I will grow old. Oh!!

Conquering Waters

I’m not very comfortable getting into deep water. I simply dread it. Lately, I visited this place besides the sea. The sea was so magnificent that you feel so small and modest standing at the shores. Riding in the ship, crossing the enormous sea, getting away from the shores, amidst the sea, where no land is visible, you could see only the water touching the sky at the horizons. The sight is marvellous and at the same time frightful. A thought crossed my mind, what if I got stranded in the middle of the sea and never be able to see the land again. A chill ran down my spine. Yet I was marvelling at the might of the sea. By the beach, people were enjoying all kinds of water sports. But I chose to stay at the seashore, walking into the water till I’m knee deep, then in waist deep water but couldn’t get any further. My younger sister went for snorkelling. When she returned, she had an expression of incredulity on her face and awe in her voice. She urged me to try it. Reluctantly, I agreed. The guy, who was helping people, gave me the paraphernalia to wear with some instructions. I did as he says but as soon as I put it on and tried to get my head under water, I grappled with the water. I tried to clasp the guy’s shoulder and gulped the salty water. I couldn’t swim, my body stiffened and I struggled for a foothold under water. I felt that I was getting drowned. It was such a horrific experience but I tried again, but after four unsuccessful attempts I gave up. I watched little kids and elderly enjoying snorkelling alike. When I was leaving the beach, I kept on wondering whether I missed a once-in-a-lifetime-opportunity, whether I should have tried a fifth time. But I just smiled knowingly that at least I have conquered my fear of water by stepping into chest deep water when I had never even bathed in a high speed shower in my bathroom. I smiled throughout my journey and been enthralled by the strength of the mighty sea.

Mourning the Loss of a Book

Only a book lover can understand pain of the loss of a book. I lend a book to my best friend to read. It was my favorite book which I’ve read at least ten times. I talk a lot about Wuthering Heights to my friend which stimulated her to read it. This is the only book I’ve read a lot and got excited every time I read it. Though not an avid reader, she borrowed Wuthering Heights from me to read. Then she misplaced it and lost my dear book. I literally cried for the loss of my book, but my mom laughed at me and said that it was just a book. She asked me to buy a new one. But how can I forget that book, its feel, its pages, its font, its size, and above all Heathcliff. I miss my book. But I didn’t let this affect my friendship because she is a lovely person and my best friend. I vowed to myself that I will never lend my books to someone who does not revere books and cannot take care of my books. I grieved for my beloved Wuthering Heights!

Friendship without Words

As usual the shawlwala of Kashmir visited our house. But this time the shawlwala did not come, it was his son and that too without his heavy bundle of shawls. I reminisce, Rashid miyan comes to our house every winter to sell shawls to my mother and grandmother. His luxurious pashminas were so warm and magnificent. I was ten when he started coming to our house along with his son Rahmat. Rahmat was of my age. When I first saw him I instantly felt a pull towards him. His fair complexion, deep blue innocent eyes, his brown hair charmed me. I was a reticent child and so did he. I wanted to talk to him but couldn’t gather the courage to speak the first words. He used to come to our house every winter wearing phiran. For a couple of years our speechless friendship grew. We started exchanging smiles. I waited for winters so that I can meet him. I wanted to ask him that is his land haven as everyone said. How does the white spotless snow clad mountains look. My fascination for him grew. But as my education took over my time, I hardly get to see him during winters. My fondness seemed to decline. Lately when I saw him, he was no longer a boy; he was a handsome young man in his early twenties. He has the same lovely blue eyes but with more mature features. I tried to recall those boyish looks in his manly features. We exchanged glances as if trying to dig our childhood memories that were buried under the dust of time. He somberly stated his father’s demise and revealed that he will never come again because now he owns a shop in Srinagar which is doing well since the tourism has augmented. Though I had almost forgotten him yet when we looked at each other I felt a strong pain and sorrow as if a significant twine has been snapped inside me.Our friendship without words ended and I bid him adieu with gloomy eyes.

Sin Tacks

Sin tacks….err syntax, I never had such a difficult time studying any subject. T, our syntax prof is just too brilliant. He is undoubtedly a prodigy…a genius. He is so intellectual that his humor has the same essence…very subtle. Even his student-bashing is equally subtle. He asks us to make a tree diagram of ‘we are stupid’ to make us feel the same. His tone always remains so calm, so cool. Yet the girls have a crush on him (including me). He is so passionate about his subject that he gets sicken when his students do not reciprocate that fervor. But can’t he understand that not everyone has the similar passion for the subject. I’m passionate about education the same way he is fervent about syntax. This is the rationale behind my fondness for him. I don’t like his sarcasm but I like his persona…his mediocre height, his whiz kid looks, his subtle humor. But syntax is emphatically sin tacks for me!