learning to be blissful

The digits on the cell-phone clock contain a rhythm of seconds in steps and I can feel tiredness seep into my pores like a rising tide. My body sinks into the faded grey leather seats of the car, tiredness making my legs at once jumpy and leaden. The car maintains a constant of 100KMPH and her purr a metronome of comfort until there is a sudden swerve and all of us leap up in a sudden aerial twist and land softly.

“Sorry”; he says. “Haulle” (Slow); Ma says

And we snuggle back in the dim lit silence. This moving motorized animal smartly cuts through the enveloping midnight December fog. I watch the digits choreographed in block steps moving forward and listen to night gathering. And, watch the white haze on the windows and the north Indian country sides rushing by. I can feel myself out there somewhere at the peripheries of things, like a jellyfish that is present only in its own pulsing.

A dozen days have whizzed by, already!!

Dulhan Chachi, Bhabhi, Bahu, Mami, Votti, DhyoutNu, Dewarni and a half a dozen more of such specialized titles … at a stroke of midnight, like all great turn of events... I stepped over into matrimony!

There might have been a time when I would have argued against the ceremonial hulla-ballo. But now I know it is a necessity like pressurized CO2 in Cola bottles. The flatness into the event would take the grace away. I know that for me it’s here and now, the reds and golds, the pinks and peaches … weaving saccharine carpets for the next avatar to tread upon.

The staccato episodes keep panning in and out… there was, me in them and there was me, outside them. A non-judgmental audience! I might have once been terrified of this. Or shy. Or outright rebellious against the so-called social nonsense; but now I know that somethings are better done the classic way. The crowd of relatives, the rambunctious merrymaking at home, the tired brother and overworked parents, the running sisters and cribbing sister-in-laws, the pampering grannies and the doting uncles. The flirtatious “baraat” and the solemn “vidaai”

I might have once been stubborn about not getting married. Or not needing a husband to survive. Or not needing a seal of society stamped on the relationship. But the last few years have borne enough aches to teach me this: growth happens when the moments are bitter and slow, when night happens early at the edges of my soul. And also this: that morning comes again. Bright and Sunny!

In my core I have resilience. In me there is a swift restorative sap that tells me again and again to have trust in my life. And, complete faith in the man I married.

I see myself lately in a different light and recognizing this feels a bit like finding a Polaroid of me in a shoebox and being unable to place the context or the time in which it was taken.

I have things to work at in this new inning. And being married puts me at odds with the things that I need to create a new me, with the recycled stuff of me-until-now. Being married makes me introverted and fragile and susceptible. It makes me tender and sore spent at the end of the day. And I still have months and perhaps years ahead of me of this balancing act before I stop working and see myself cocooned and comfortable in my new garb.

Somehow I’ll make it through. Somehow I’ll huddle in the palm of each day and wait to be handed by grace into the palm of the next. I’ll sip good chai, and make good chappatis and do a little puja and work at being a good human being and do justice to all these new titles. I’ll read poems that fill me up and write more. And I’ll wait… till the new me is recreated… and woven into the, me-now. A holistic me!

Till then I’ll breathe in the warmth of my husband’s skin and adjust to being Mrs. Sharma.


getting married today!!
and yesss ... have been pinching myself...
for more reasons than one!


the rapist rules

I am angry, ‘am frustrated, am disturbed… am so upset, I can hardly sit still, which I have to and the mind trembles with more rage. All this negative energy is fuelling the incineration of the spirit. Seems all that gun powder and blasts set of a chain reaction…

What the fuck has world come to? And, for once am not going to be sorry for the language here. Where the hell are the people, who claimed to be sanitizing Mumbai? Why aren’t the commandoes being sent away since not all of them would not be Maharashtrians? Or are those people waiting for the complete annihilation of the city so that they can build it up? Is that the argument for their silence or hiding ghettos, that they are “Nirmataas” (builders)? And, how dare one CM or another fly down and talk about money? And criticize the government? Someone if inside your home killing your family and you are blaming your cousin for not fastening the doors well? In times like this? Is it still We vs Them? Is there no end to the manipulations and opportunism?

And, no my anger is not just them, and no my anger is not even on those handful of people holding the heart of the nation to ransom. Nah, not even them! For, they are just cogs of the big wheel, the mere pawns… very very dispensable variety.

And, for once let’s not even get into arguments of religion and region. As long as there is a corrupt system, there is someone willing to take the “Fidayeen” flag and die in the name.
From 1948 to 1975 to 1991 to 1993 to 2008 – 60 years and am sure more than 6 millions killed in the name of some brand of hate.

What the FUCK?? And, we are not even looking at where we should look. We are conveniently being short sighted. Looking at the picture in front and suitably forgetting the ones behind the camera. The politics, the poisonous dirty version of it… is going to be the end of this country and the planet!

Why can’t we just let others live and be? Why do we need the on-up-man-ship? WHY? Politics is an essential of a human society. Good! The mental prowess it requires is appreciative and people who are the masters of ‘Chankaya-Neeti’ – very commendable!

But, how do you live with your conscience, when you have used the insecurities of 20 something, turned them against their own people, themselves and then a quick about turn and make a show of condemning the same actions, you either paid for or perpetuated!

This isn’t politics; this is putting Hitlers of the worlds to shame.

The ATS Chiefs, the ACPs, the kids – on both sides of the guns, the foreign nationals, the army men, the bystanders, and the media … the common man in general. What wrong did these people do? What wrong the Valley did? From Kashmir to Mumbai to Gujarat and Delhi to New York to Afghanistan; why is the world burning, the way it is? The kids are not safe in their own homes, men and women un-safe at their own work places, with the people they call friends. No safety, no peace, no evolution! Period.

So, if that’s they way it is why isn’t there an Armageddon? If God has a plan, he should sanitize the entire planet in a shot. Another experiment gone wrong, man! Time for new one! In any case, this is a blink of n eye for YOU!

But this suffering, this cannibalism … is really un-called for, completely un-warranted!

And, what am I doing? Writing few lines on my blog? Does that make even a delta of a difference? Extending a hand to those whom I could reach is one way. Paying my taxes, voting and being a good citizen is one way. Think, its time to pick that Automatic Klashanikov myself…

Ha, there I go! To beat them, be like them! But who the heck is THEM here? I need George Orwell for the clarity. I don’t know, if I am making sense even to myself… at this time… all is smoke… and I am choking, forget perspectives.


edit: will asking people to resign, passing the buck... even sacking governments, help and ensure that we can eat our foods at our fav restaurant, safely? and we would not be raped for checking into hotels on our business trips... thrice before being shot? and why am i being naive, even bringing these up?