Saturday, October 18, 2014

BEING INDIAN AT HEART !!!!

Namaste !!!

A day in real India...

Draped in red saree, with jasmine flowers over her bun when she walked down the streets her bangles hummed a rhythm and anklets just added some extra elegance. Cows wandered over the streets blocking her way and some naughty kids were caught pelting stones at them. They mooed in pain but they would never harm any children. Just when the grass was green enough to be fed a snake jumped out of the bushes and made its way to the road. Lying peacefully on the middle of the road, soaked in sun's grace it felt too lazy to move away when a biker honked relentlessly. Snake gave him there-is-enough-road-for-you look and slowly moved away. Poor biker was scared wondering if he had harmed the snake as it would be a curse for life. He immediately ran to the temple near by and prayed god to forgive his unknown sins offering a bowl of milk and special pooja in return. A dog barked at him like he was his everlasting enemy and even chased him till the parking lot and then ran restlessly wherever he could, barking. Some pani puri vendors chased the dog away which was annoying their customers. Some spicy and juicy pani puris were served to the hungry customers who rejuvenated their taste buds with some tangy tamarind juice. Finally, when they strolled back home passing cow dungs, broken drainage, puddle, pot holes and traffic jams with minimum money in their pockets they knew they had to save that money for future expenses. After all, Deepavali festival was nearing and they had to buy a lot of crackers, sweets, new clothes to celebrate goodness, happiness, health. And to also celebrate the joy of being an Indian. 

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India with its history spanning hundreds of thousands of years makes one wonder where it all began. Our ancient traditions, history and culture is so strong rooted than no one can absolutely pin point and call it the dawn for Indians. Yes, we all start talking about paleolithic period and Indus valley civilization but what about tretha yuga or dwapara yuga where we believe our gods existed in human form killing demons and saving humanity. Even today most of the rituals we follow comes from that era which nobody ever witnessed. Hence, India is the most diversified nation with different rituals, cuisines, languages, customs and culture passed on through several centuries. The variations found in India can be found no where else in the world. May be that it self makes India so unique, so special and that encompasses the real culture of India. Many sources describe India as "Sa Prathama Sanskrati Vishvavara" — the first and the supreme culture in the world.

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India, with its 28 states and seven union territories, speaking more than 22 official languages and nearly 400 living language, is a country known for its open mindedness. Still the age old rituals are being followed, at the same time software companies are spreading like a virus. In the busy streets of metros, you see women in sarees, salwar kurtas, jeans, dresses and shorts. People speak in Tulu (a no script living language) being fluent in English. A scientist offers his prayer to god to provide him success in his endeavors. People are loud and they love being loud. Loud dikh chik music, loud honks, loud laughter makes our species so unique. Even the spices used in cooking are loud. No matter where we go or settle in or adapt, we will always remain Indian at heart preferring water over tissue papers !!!!  

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I don't know if world is being Indianized or Indians are influencing the world to become Indianized, but change is happening. May be slowly, but I can see appreciation for Indians in the eyes of the west. I see a lot of foreigners preferring our Ayurvedic medicines or Yoga or Bollywood beats or occasional saree drapes, but can we actually call it as Indianization? Just because once a month they eat palak paneer, won't make them Indian. But yes, their true appreciation and acceptance of India, a land of snake charmers like they tagged us before, is the real Indianization. While I was reading Sudha Murthy's anecdotes I came across an interesting fact. Many years ago when she visited the USA for first time she was teased for wearing a saree and her being an Indian. She was made to wait for a long time cross questioning her agenda of visit. They didn't trust us then. But recently when she traveled, the same old airport officials appreciated Indian culture, the way women wore saree in India and even, finished her immigration process in minutes. I believe this is the true Indianization that is happening across globe. 

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The days of being looked down is slowly getting over. Indians are appreciated for their knowledge, culture and intelligence. Be it at any field, Indians are being noted. Let it be a small country anywhere in the world, I am sure, at least one Indian will be working there. World is becoming more Indian because of the presence of Indians everywhere. We are known for adapting and we seep in to that world. Indians would live like British in the UK. No doubt. But if there is an Indian restaurant then they will drag their foreign friends to have some spicy spices cladded food. We are normally comfortable in jeans and t shirt but if there is a festival we will not leave that chance of wearing a beautiful saree, some ornaments, flowers looking like a princess in our own world. I guess it is this color in India to which foreigners are getting attracted to. Be it celebrating holi or colorful heavy sarees or colorful bollywood movies, we bring life in it. This is what is being admired abroad now. Of course not all age old traditions are accepted and most of them are not being followed in India it self. Yes, we call them superstitions and ignore them as much as possible. But there is more to India than superstitions. 

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While I was reading through some articles, I came across the cultural interests between Germany and India. During Frankfurt book fair in 2006 India was the guest of honor and since then, Indian work in the field of literature is being widely accepted in Germany. Not only the bollywood commercial movies, but Germans are also interested in regional and art movies of India. German films are also increasingly present at Indian film festivals, although the entry of German films in India still proves to be difficult if not impossible due to the specifics of the Indian film market. Be it classical music or Indian dramas or peppy bollywood numbers, all are appreciated in Germany more than any country. Surprising, isn't it? Now that's what I call true Indianization. After all everyone knows Shah Rukh Khan !!!!

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I am not saying world is being influenced by India enough to accept our way of living. Comparatively, India is being more westernized. This is a fact. But Indians and Indian culture is being noted and acknowledged now, unlike before when it was completely neglected and looked down. People are incorporating more Indian products to lure Indians in to their market. Our market is wider and people want to understand Indian way of approach. Well, what can I say, we are second highly populated country in the world. And we are everywhere. So, people living outside India should be thanked for this process of Indianization. They are actually living abroad and influencing people and how can somebody not like Indian way of spreading joy once they get a taste of it? So, yes, world is being Indianized. People are being more Indian than we think at their heart. Their true acceptance and love, what I call my dear friends, is true Indianization. 

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Well it is time for some sweets, payasam, fried capsicum, new clothes, lights and lamps. Ah, Deepavali is on its way !!!!

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This post is written as a part of IndiBlogger contest "more Indian than you think" conducted by Lufthansa airline. The unique spirit of India is clearly evident in all Lufthansa flights. After over half a century of service to India, it is woven into our tradition of efficiency, reliability, innovation and technological excellence.You can get a taste of Lufthansa at http://www.moreindianthanyouthink.com/ and also, watch their video at https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=MrYhrZ3ppik

And for better experience fly in Lufthansa, more Indian than you think !!!!

Saturday, October 11, 2014

The uncertainty quotient !!!!

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"Life is what you make it" (like we all have been educated since birth to take the right decisions)

When I read Preeti Shenoy's novel I was absolutely convinced. Title intrigued me and agreed with me but what was in it not so much. My husband often chants that our happiness lies in our hands. So yeah I get it now. If I am a loser, I am responsible. If I am a hippie, I am responsible. If I am flying spreading out my wings in this divine sky, hell yes, I am responsible. 

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Yet, when an entire world of happiness lies in our damned fist we let it loose and curse god for making our fingers tremble. So, here standing at this junction of life I wonder is life really what we make it or our decision making skills are far immature than we imagined. I call it "the uncertainty quotient" or call it basic human rights ???

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Every human being has the right to be uncertain. Starting from what shall I cook for breakfast to whom shall I marry to Am I making the right choice (for every silly thing) to is this store good for buying vegetables, uncertainty runs thicker than blood in our veins. But honestly, we never take those good two seconds to analyze why are we having second thoughts? Why can't we make a choice and accept it? Why do we even think twice? If it's a wrong decision then time will teach its lesson and being mature is nothing but learning from our mistakes. Isn't it? 

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May be this is a human trait to make things perfect in the first round and screw it all up. Hence, confusions wander in our imaginations more than goals, achievements. I am pretty sure there is no one who is absolutely certain about everything. Today when I think about my future and some crisp decisions to be made I know I am not yet ready for them. I am not sure what is right and what is wrong. This turmoil is slowing my life, my achievements and crumbling my dreams. Every night I lay on the bed and bug my husband with umpteen questions. Usually I do that to drag me from the world of uncertainty to hold on to something more stable. But last night I realized I was confusing him. My questions triggered his uncertainty spot and making him totter in the maze of confusions. Then whole day I kept thinking what is best for me and how I can be certain about being certain. Is going abroad the right decision (few weeks ago I was all happy about it), is doing PhD the right thing for me professionally (till yesterday I was puking at the thought of PhD), is maintaining a blog right utilization of time (I never ever thought I would become uncertain about this one at least) and etc etc etc. These thoughts kept pummeling my not-so-naive brain and now I am absolutely clueless. 

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Right now, my uncertainty quotient is high. Why can't I just live my life, flow with the wind and be happy? Why do I need to plan and have a back up and be sad? I feel my head will explode with these thoughts and I will never get a clear cut answer. Why me, nobody has a clear cut answer. Life is a big question by itself. The more you dig, more questions evolve and you sink deep in to an abyss. Right now I am in that pit. I see question marks all around me with darkness filling my soul. I am only asking for some answers but I can't see them. I am blind or blindfolded. I can hear people talking, suggesting me what is best for me, like they have lived my life through my emotions. But it's all hazy. Too many people talking, instructing, guiding. May be because of this I can't listen to the voice of my inner soul. And so I am hopelessly confused. Aghast. Shattered. Waiting for some answers. Waiting for my life to be certain. But even now I am certain about one thing. I want to get over these confusions only to find peace in life. I feel that when all the questions are answered I would have nothing more to think about. And my heart and soul will rest in peace. Is it really possible? or the tag "rest in peace" will be associated only for dead??? I have no answers right now !!!

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At times being uncertain, thinking over decisions may be the right thing but not always. After all, life is short and we can't waste it being uncertain. At least we need to be certain that we made the right choice, took the right decisions and live through it. Even if it is not the best one. Life only gets funnier when we know all these yet unable to oblige making life a complicated game.
 

Thursday, October 9, 2014

Blank page syndrome

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For few days now my frazzled brain has run out of all the ideas and tuned off those endless chattering, debates, questions and arguments to seep in to "silent mode". I feel helpless or utterly hopeless. I am sure most of the people who write would have experienced this but why. Why it becomes impossible to pen down few words however worst imaginations they bring out. No. Not even a single word. All is left, a blank white page and some undefinable pain in the throat trying to break that wall of confidence, individuality and my existence. It's been days and all I do is watch supernatural like I have few days left on my calender or log in to facebook to check if dead people have come alive. The one thing I couldn't do is write. I was amazed when I couldn't even send text messages to my friends. Like all those words were at war, hence solitude for me. So, of course, having no options in hand I googled, "how to over come writer's block?". One interesting way to get out of this hell was by reading more. Surprisingly, I couldn't read. Not novels, not text books, not newspapers, not even those FB story pick crap. I blamed it all on supernatural as it had clouded my mind and thoughts with ghosts and demons and vampires. May be nothing else seemed interesting or may be my writing days are wobbling towards its end. Honestly, I felt broken and even now I feel my bone is fractured which I am forcefully trying to bandage wanting to get well soon. Like it happened in supernatural, may be the Lucifer in my has risen shifting my life, my focus on a different path altogether. May be I will never get well forget about soon. Every day I sit in front of this gadget and force myself to type and end up saving it in draft unable to post it. Unable to even complete it. Unable to feel satisfied. And at night those half blank pages, sometimes completely blank, haunt me and taunt me saying I would never be able to write. Never be able to mend those bones, never be able to walk again, run or jump. I am crippled for life. Can I feel this way? Is it right? Is this blank page syndrome or simply termed as depression? Am I sinking low or loneliness within me in sinking me? I don't know. 


I enjoyed scribbling since my childhood. I wrote poems on rain, cow, nature and tore those sheets from my notebooks forcing people to read and say "very good". I gave more attention to writing in my school magazines than my home work or exams. I wrote in every piece of paper available to me. I wrote poems about my teachers, got caught and was punished. Honestly, I never wrote to make fun of them but when there is paper and an interesting subject (and of course a boring class) writer in me took the front seat. Even today when I open my old school books I will find two or three poems in each or some short stories on broken heart. So, when I have spent my life doing this how can I stop now? How can I go blank, just like that? How will I be able to answer my childhood - "Sorry girl, you wasted your childhood scribbling in every piece possible. Now I have just switched off that channel" - ? But today I decided to write, even scribble. If this is my last stop then I got to pull myself from here to move on. I don't want to be stuck in this oblivion. Not now. This is not my time to let loose and fall in the trap of fate.


If this is a fight, then it shall be. I don't know if I am a good fighter or not but I will not give up smashing those dreams of mine. I will not give up on those happy moments of praise. I will not give up on hope and I hope I will get all my inspirations back to kick start at a new level.

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Yeah! He is a consultant!!!

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These are my few realizations about supply chain consultants. Let me know if it applies to all the consultants across globe or is my husband really unique........

1. Sleep is fine tuned in such a way that their body can function with minimum three hours of sleep and all the pending hours gets accumulated which can be compensated by sleeping for 16 to 17 hours at a stretch.

2. They can literally sleep anywhere. Due to their frequent travels and odd working hours, their body gets adjusted to every sleeping environment. Be it airport, airplane, bus, cab, moving or at halt. Nothing disturbs them!!! They sleep like a new born child and when they wake up their system is rebooted and fresh for some more work!!!

3. Talking about work, they can just switch on their laptop (god knows what are in those excel files) amid a huge crowd and forget the outer world and focus like never before. Even if a bomb goes off, trust me, they wouldn't know!!!

4. If work is their first wife, then airplane/airport is their first house. They travel so frequently that they end up spending more time travelling than being at home. Of course rest of the hours are spent at office or on site!!!

5. Everybody has a paunch. Considering the tasty, oily food being served at every “on site” locations and having absolutely no time for workouts, as per tradition, they ought to gain few kilos. If your husband still doesn't have one, don’t panic he will get there soon!!!

6. Damn it!!! Their meetings never end. When they are back home, they switch on their laptops and utilize the one facility which I happen to detest lately. Skype. They have meetings, educational sessions, then some more meetings, conference calls and goes on…

7. They are always late. Late to the airports (missing flight is like a child’s play), late to the meetings, always late to home and late at everything. Though I still don’t see a connection between being a consultant and being late, I strongly believe this as one of the side effects.

8. They are smart and strategic. Their processing speed is high and brain is constantly functioning. So, when you are talking to them they smile and nod, because deep inside their hemispheres some excel files would be open, some drawings sprawled, some numbers being calculated, some problems being solved. Whatever you speak goes above their head if the template doesn't match!!!

9. Tension is something which stays miles away from them. May be being subjected to extreme pressure at work every day they are immune to it now. They cater to all their problems like it’s not a big thing and when they can’t resolve the issues they just laugh at it!!!

10. And this is the final banging one. If they get a good, interesting, challenging project they forget everything and everyone around. They can humanly stay away from family, friends and enjoy life just by that pleasure they get through work. Any new project which questions their capacity intrigues them to the core (I guess this is the “kick” Salman spoke about) till they screw it up and laugh and reset the project and sigh. Now when he says project is in a total mess, I know I don’t need to be tensed as it is always in a mess.

...........But if it is unique to him, then Mr.husband I am proud of you and your passion towards work!!! I know the distance is killing but hope this made you smile like it did for me!!!

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

FREEDOM !!!

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There she was amid the fake twinkles of life; swaying her bare hands, tapping those skinny legs and occasionally shaking those voluptuous breasts. The first day when she entered that room she was 11 years old and she witnessed a whole new dirty world stretched open her. As she grew, she was a hit. A pretty fair face with a curvaceous to-kill-for kind of a body! What else she needed to be a star amongst the dark patched sulky faces. An instant blockbuster indeed !!! But she didn't feel it that way. Every day, every hour spent in that bar sucked her towards a whole worse life. She had no choice; after all she was a show piece sold at a hefty price . She felt ugly there, uglier than ever. Especially when money fell upon her touching her golden blouse, swiftly caressing her bare belly to find its native near her foot. That was the real reason why she was there. That was the reason why she was asked to hide her womanhood under a shining much revealing blouse and a low hung red lehenga and a partially visible dupatta. There she was feeling the void inside her soul, crying out loud only to hear the dikh-chik music playing aloud. She wasn't proud being a bar dancer, but to say less, she had to survive.

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Everyday sharp at 7 pm she entered this cheap world of smoke, alcohol, music and nudity. Her eyes witnessed police stations on some days and dingy looking hotel bedrooms on another. Yet, it was this smoke filled dim lighted bar she hated the most. She felt raped every second. Those prying eyes scrutinized every single detail whacking her femininity hard. She smiled, dying a million deaths inside. She smiled when they pulled her hand and offered their lap to sit. They touched her, pinched her, insulted her, and molested her. She only smiled.

One evening a man on the right corner table signaled her with a bundle of notes as she silently walked towards him. A stout man, his stomach largely popping out from the table and shining bald head glittered even more than the thick gold chain hung over his neck. Richness was savoring every bit of him.  Instantly, she knew –she had come across many of this kind – the man seeks nothing more but physical pleasure jaded with the same position with the same wife. The moment her hands reached for the bundle, he quickly shifted it inside his safari coat giving a come-get-it-baby laughter. Playfulness was pouring out of his alcohol stuffed body. She sat on his lap at his command served him drinks and gave him a ride through her beautiful giggles. When the bundle was out he reached for her blouse to insert them inside having his moment of fun. Next day, same right corner table felt his presence and so did her golden blouse and so many days afterwards. She had seen no customer being so prompt at the table and waiting only for her. She even wondered once or twice if he was in love with her, only to laugh at her tiny joke shoving her laughter.  But with each day he explored her body a bit more as if that bundle owned her. At last, bar manager asked her to accompany him to the room upstairs and there was an instant truth lying naked in front of her, no love was her destiny; it was all in the name of lust!

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Once again the same smelly dark bedroom called out her name. Once again, she couldn't meet the eyes of barely naked women in those half torn posters glued to the wall. Once again a new man stood right in front - striped. Once again, she felt she wouldn't repeat this act again. Once again she saw herself being exposed, killing her morals, her innocence and her self-respect. When she felt his heavy body on her broken soul, she felt captive of this male dominated society who used her just for pleasure. Her identity was being razed, she kept silent. She was silent all these years unable to break free. But it was different that night. The voices grew louder and she couldn't even close her ears. She shut her eyes tight, yet those violent noises made her nauseate. She saw him, heard him and felt him. She wanted to scream aloud – get off me you asshole. But she kept silent but for how long? The lava of anguish was ready to burst open and her soul begged for mercy and freedom.  All those years were rolling in front of her like a motion picture and she knew, she was more than a bar dancer. If nothing great, at least a human being! She couldn't live this life forever. She couldn't be a whore in the lap of a dancer. She couldn't be that tied animal wagging tail on command. She had to be free. And she knew freedom was lying next to her satisfied.

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Next day morning, when police arrived they saw her lay amid the pool of blood. His blood was scattered all around redefining an old saga of a woman’s revenge. And he rested motionless beside her. His paunch still popping out, his safari all torn and tormented while his severed body parts roared a brutal torture. Her frustration, anger, helplessness were marked on every brick of that room but more on his body. May be her vengeance was over and story too. But her real life began there.

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