Approval...Does it matter?

I have always been strong headed and very sure of what, who and where I want to be in life. There have been many negatives to this “I know best” attitude however the one positive has been that I have also maintained that since my decisions and actions in most cases have been my own, I very rarely blame anyone else for the outcome.

I firmly believe that whatever fate doles out to me are things I am responsible for and blaming someone else are signs of a weak character.

From my choice of education to career to friends (and boyfriends) to husbands and work I have always gone with my own sometimes thoughtout decisions and mostly whims and fancies.

Answering many a raised eyebrows with an “it’s my life” and “I don’t care” statements I have been meandering through life. However truth be told the secret dream of my choices being seen in the right light by my family and friends and their approval given has always been there.

Why did I stay in a marriage which from the first day seemed futile? Simply because I didn’t want a disappointed family especially mom. I flogged the dead horse and tried to make it move till I ached all over and I realized that all my attempts were useless since IT WAS DEAD.

So coming back to the point of social approval it does play an important part though I would like to think otherwise. There have been periods when the “I don’t care” feeling has lasted for months only to be replaced by a secret “I do care”. At other times the replacement has been faster almost as soon as the deed was done.

How do you feel about this? I have a feeling we all oscillate between these two feelings. I perhaps tend to cling on to the ‘don’t care’ side more but I do go to the other side too. And that movement is almost out of my power.

Now why am I saying all this here today?

For two reasons one: a decision I took almost a year and a half ago and which at the time seemed a huge risk has turned out to be not such a bad idea after all for me personally and secondly people whose opinion matters have finally given a nod of approval to that decision.

Feels good, believe me.

For that historic meeting I took along a cake made by a dear friend and while I didn’t say so at the time but while cutting it I felt it was a celebration no less and the cake cutting just the right bit of ceremony to indulge in :)

My recipes

Calming nerves
Take a long deep breathe, a short walk and visualizing a happy scene from the past completely unrelated to the present crisis in great detail.


Fighting stress
Check out the situation rationally, understand what is there that I can do to better it, do it, send up a quick prayer and then trust in God to deliver me from the problem.

Feeling loved

Re-reading old mails from friends and lovers.






Relaxation
A nice book, munchies, a tall chilled drink, mountains in the horizon and a nice tummy to rest my head on.


Feeling low
A quick bout of shopping for stuff,
could be as mundane as daily groceries just remember to pick up one or two feel good things (chocolates work for me).

Ending a going nowhere argument with the partner
A tight body-enveloping hug and a long kiss

These are my recipes...what about yours?

My Holy Books

What are holy books?
The simple answer would be books on religion and God which are revered by many and which it’s believed hold the word and direction of God.
People are ready to die for the books they believe as holy. From the Koran to Bible to the Torah and the Bhagvad Gita there have been instances where people have laid down their life to rescue these books from fire, flood or attackers.

I was born to Hindu parents so logically all the books held as holy by the Hindus should be the ones that be holy to me. From the Gita to the Ramayan to the Mahabharta and of course the Veds and Upanishads all were to be revered.

I studied in a convent for twelve years of my life which of course were also the most impressionable therefore the Bible was expected to be the Book I would respect.

Frequenting the Gurdwaras in the neighbourhood made bowing down infront of the Guru Granth Sahib a practice.

Similarly friends who treated me to lovely biryani and sewaiyian at their homes helped me understand the importance of the Koran and how though the Jews, Christians and Muslims keep fighting all over the world they share the same theological genes.

But none of these have been able to become My Holy Book. Not that I don’t respect them, I do. But somewhere they seem too ancient for me to feel that deep connect within.

To me, my Holy Books are those which have changed or influenced my life and given me a completely new perspective.

The first of these is a book called Exodus by Leon Uris – this was the first grown-ups novel I read when I was around ten or eleven. It initially shattered me for I had not heard of Hitler till then other than in passing and the atrocities that the book spoke about were too much for a young mind.
However as I went through the book my first heroes were born with Ari Ben Cannan leading them. I was so completely influenced by this book that I assumed that I was actually a Jewess who by accident had been interchanged at birth with my mother’s real child.
I knew all the numbers related to the second world war by heart, how many died at which camp to how many soldiers landed on the shores of Normandy and turned the tide of the war. All this because of Exodus. I can tell you I was the favourite student of my history teacher Sister Joyce.
Now that I have grown up the book still teaches me the lesson that hard work and determination can do wonders and it urges me to make that one last attempt, yet again.

Another book which altered my mindset is The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. The deep message the book sought to convey through the parable of the simple story of a shepherd got etched in my mind. Following my dreams and creating my own destiny are my religion thanks to Coelho whose subsequent books continue to influence me greatly.

While I was going through separation and a very nasty divorce I read a book called Jean Christophe by Romain Rolland, apart from a story well told the last page of the novel which I read in the light of a rising sun helped me traverse the sad times stoically.

Atlas Shrugged apart from all its socially relevant messages taught me that being a girl cant be the reason to bow down to sad politicking of men who unable to compete or excel would fall back on maligning as the only weapon. Ayn Rand is an inspiration in the true sense of the word.

There now I have told you about my Holy books. Which ones are yours?

The Fighters

Hi,

The fight for saving the Ridley Turtles continues here.

Manic Monday Turns Sweet

Monday blues are at their worst today. What else is to be expected after a three day weekend??
I came to office almost moaning....oh how could I let the weekend end???

The first mail in my in-box however uplifted my mood...so I thought let me be magnanimous and share it with all of you as well :)

Check out this link on Kishi and you will know what I mean.
Sweet monday to all of you out there!!!!!

Will they....wont they....ever wake up that is

Hi!

This is a quick post to bring to your notice the lovely way we as a democracy function.

Please check the link below and let me know in whose ears should we say Jaago ree???

http://pinknblu.blogspot.com/2009/04/jaagore-form-6-being-tossed-for-six.html

Who is afraid of the Taliban?

The Taliban is just twelve kilometers away from Indian borders the headlines screamed yesterday on a news channel. Again and again they showed google earth pictures of how close Lahore is to the Wagah border.

The voice rising, the music soaring in the mad race to gather TRPs. The anchor seemed to be speaking almost from a war zone where a bomb might detonate any moment such was his tone and manner. All he was trying to say was that Pakistan has admitted that the siege of Police School close to Lahore was done by Taliban and that a second strike in Pakistan (earlier in the month we heard about the Sri Lankan team being attacked) so soon meant that the Taliban had gained tremendous strength in Pakistan and could strike in India too.

What made me wonder was his panic striken voice as if this is an unthinkable thought. What’s there to panic about I ask you if the Taliban were to strike?

Is their terror different from what we keep suffering every other day? Can their bullets harm more than the ones shot by our own terrorists?

In India we don’t just have extremist Islamic terror we also have extremist Hindu terror. Whether it is their involvement in blasts (Malegaon) or enforced modesty on women (Mangalore) the Hindus are not behind the Muslim at all in being able to unleash horrors.

Pakistan has only one kind of terror to fight with …..we have Muslim & Hindu extremists. We also had Sikh till some time back. Right now we also happen to have the Maoists, the Salva Judum and the various separatist outfits in the north east. We have the Kashmiri fighters who though they no longer know what it is they fight for continue to do so since it’s one of the easiest career choices in the valley and while it lasts, pays well too.

We also have Varun Gandhi who can fight without an opponent. By the way he reminds me of that ad line for cycles “Rebel without a cause” when I was a kid it really appealed to me, now I merely find it foolish.

So tell me then why does the news that Taliban maybe 12 kilometers away from us need such theatrics….we have enough terror of our own. Infact I couldn’t help contemplating if the great warriors of the Hindu faith would like to go and station themselves at the country’s borders to protect it from Taliban attacks. After all the memory of them avenging the Ram temple by demolishing the Babri Masjid is still strong. Surely they will not want the Taliban to come in and do something which will outshine their achievement.

But then I remembered that the great Maratha Raj Thakerey had been completely missing in action while the action at the Gateway of India lasted. He had resurfaced only when it was all over and those non-marathis from UP, Bihar and the rest of the country had gone and saved the lives of Mumbaikars.

It does bring to mind another question....allow me to digress...its not okay for Hindu women to frequent pubs but is it okay for hindu sadhvis to be publicly embraced by men? I seem to remember such a picture in the aftermath of the Babri Masjid demolition and the person embracing was none other than the new loh purush of Indian politics.

So there you must admit we have nothing to be afraid of the Pakistani Taliban. We have enough of our own.

My Blessings

I have been in a ranting mode so I thought let me count my blessings. It’s a self help exercise so kindly bear with me.


I always find some people who gladly share their time and company with me wherever I am
I have a loving partner who is not stuck up with ideas of what girls should do or don’t.
I have the naughtiest mom in the world
My doggie Crazy has the most soulful eyes in the world
My masi thinks I am a heroine so does my brother though he tries to keep it carefully hidden
My home is the center of my universe and I love returning to it
I have a job and am good at what I do
I have a blog correction two and some people actually find them worth following.
I have dreams that I want to fulfill and someone with me who shares them
I can find these ten points to write about….there would be so many who wont be able to.

Thank you God.

Trying to let go...

Life has been tough for the past month or so.

Multiple problems at different fronts have left me groping for that extra ounce of strength and patience to carry on. At times the urge to cry uncontrollably is too much and only the thought of losing my sanity if I let circumstances get the better of me, stops me from doing it.

I have not been in the mood to write though each event could have been fodder enough for more than one post. Yet somehow the will to write was missing. Also the fact that the events involved many others who may not appreciate being discussed on my blog held me back.

I am back and using this small post as a bulwark against the emotions that still threaten to take over and am planning to come back next week with another post on things less dreary that can be shared in this forum.

I do note that in the time I have been away the numbers who ostensibly followed this blog have gone down, I do understand that in today’s world of instant gratification they would have expected instant follower-ship from me and since I was away they lost patience and left.

I don’t mean to crib about them, just wanted to thank the friends who have been around.
Thanks guys it means a lot to have a few friends in this big bad world.

Pines & Snow

I have been writing about my trips on this blog regularly under the label footprints. So much so that part of the excitement of going on a trip now seems to be the recounting of it once back on the blog for friends.

The trip this time was no different, since right from the beginning I kept filing away details in my mind and clicking pictures all with the view that it would get space on the blog. However since my travel mate Mampi is already writing about the exact activities of the trip in great detail I am not going to repeat it. You can visit her blog for details. Let me therefore share with you some snippets and photographs.
It was Dalhousie that we went to this time. Famously nicknamed "dull & lousy" by the boisterous crowds, the place is a military cantonment and a quaint little town that was set up just 150 years ago.

We arrived there in high spirits, the thrill of having escaped the mundane hectic lives we normally lead giving all of us extra broad smiles. A slightly frantic hunt later we were able to locate our hotel Geetanjali, which sadly didn’t live up to the reputation of the other HP Tourism hotels I have been to.

We were welcomed by the Monkeys…..the many, many monkeys of Dalhousie were an alternate world in themselves and I spend quite a few uneasy moments initially since their jumping onto the tin roof of the hotel caused quite a din. I was afraid one of them would jump a little too hard, crash through the roof and land on me.

Thankfully that didn’t happen.

The reason for choosing Dalhousie was the hope to catch some snow….as in a snowfall. I had never seen one and really thought that at 31 not experiencing a snowfall is a very embarrassing fact which needed to be rectified before the next birthday.

However though Dalhousie seemed nicely cold, snow was no where in sight. I prayed hard to all the Gods to arrange for some so that I woulnt have to go back disappointed, there was the added pressure of family and friends mockery which would ensue since my SNOW plans had been circulated far and wide.

On the second day of our stay there we woke up to find a rainbow right outside, it was so close that I felt if I jumped I could catch it and perhaps swing on it. I tried to capture it in my camera but sadly it was so close that catching both ends was impossible.

We finally found snow on our way to Khajjiar. It started as little mounds of dirty white by the road side and in crevices on the mountain side. It slowly grew better and we eventually found places where there was enough snow for people to be able to make snow balls and have matches. We saw the crowds descending on the snow oohed and aahed and moved on for destination Khajjiar.

Khajjiar was a beautiful place though slightly sullied by the descending hordes who thought nothing of leaving plastic bottles and empty chips packets all over the place. We walked away from the crowds and did a parikrama. With sudden bursts of rain, the wind whistling amongst the tall pine trees and the lone horse roaming on the greens…it was as idyllic as it could get.
One look at the distant mountains and you could see that it was snowing there…and I prayed fervently for a little to fall on me as well.

The drizzle of rain threatened to become a downpour hastening our departure from Khajjiar…mentally we all made plans to be back again…such was the magic of that simple glade amongst the mountains.

We were talking, eating and generally looking around while Mahesh drove when the urge to play in the snow overtook us and we stopped on the wayside. By now I had reconciled myself to the fact that I will have to be happy with snow on the ground and snow from the sky will have to just wait.

Mahesh and Mampi walked ahead and started climbing up the snow….me and Parry were still on the roadside throwing snow balls at each other…when Mahesh suddenly said Pinku look up, I did and there it was…..my snow fall.

It lasted all of two minutes but God fulfilled my desire….this is why I keep saying My God Strongest.

Post the snow the road and trip was all downhill….since my high point had been achieved so let me not bore you with the sad hearts that descended the slopes the next day.

Instead let me tell you about the Dunch (what I call a lunch that suffices for dinner) we had at Haveli in Jullundhar. It’s a nice place that showcases the real Punjab and the food is finger licking….I am still grieving for the pindi chole we had to leave behind since Mahesh wouldn’t allow us to have it packed for later.

Mampi enlightened that hosts who treat at Haveli are known as good ones in Punjab. I agree with her view but would just like to add that she was anyways way up there in my list of favorite hosts/hostesses.
I know this will add to the numbers who wish to visit her but then she being the gracious and gregarious hostess she is will surely happily accommodate.