Between Now and Then

A few days ago, a friend of mine introduced me to this wonderful country song that is so simple, it takes your breath away. It's called "Love, Me" and it's by Collin Raye.

I read a note my grandma wrote
back in nineteen twenty-three.
Grandpa kept it in his coat,
and he showed it once to me.
He said, Boy, you might not understand,
but a long, long time ago,
Grandma's daddy didn't like me none,
but I loved your Grandma so.
We had this crazy plan to meet
and run away together.
Get married in the first town
we came to, and live forever.
But nailed to the tree
where we were supposed to meet, instead
I found this letter,
and this is what it said:

If you get there before I do,
don't give up on me.
I'll meet you when my chores are through;
I don't know how long I'll be.
But I'm not gonna let you down,
darling wait and see.
And between now and then,
till I see you again,
I'll be loving you.
Love, me.

I read those words just hours before
my Grandma passed away,
In the doorway of a church
where me and Grandpa stopped to pray.
I know I'd never seen him cry
in all my fifteen years;
But as he said these words to her,
his eyes filled up with tears.

If you get there before I do,
don't give up on me.
I'll meet you when my chores are through;
I don't know how long I'll be.
But I'm not gonna let you down,
darling wait and see.
And between now and then,
till I see you again,
I'll be loving you.
Love, me.

Between now and then,
till I see you again,
I'll be loving you.
Love, me.

What a wonderful way of saying that when you love someone, you wait for them...

In Books I Travel

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Ahh! Reading! It always figures under my hobbies list everywhere, on facebook, on CV and now even on my biodata for shaadi, but somehow lately I haven’t been doing justice to it. And by reading I don’t mean newspaper, magazines, BPRs & DPRs (oops sorry, too much of office I guess). I mean books, novel. The hiatus is pinching me these days coz I am a strong believer of the words “Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested “- Sir Francis Bacon

But this time I have a stock of books in my cupboard trying really hard not to melt. So I have made a bucket list of books to ensure that the habit doesn’t fade away altogether. Here’s what needs to be done. Read 8 books, by eight different authors, within a span of 8months, ending December 31st. The list needs to be posted on the blog (and is subject to change) and the reader then has to write about each book he finished reading.
Sounds good? It does to me!

So after quite a lot of contemplation, here is my bucket list –

1. Surely You are Joking
By – Mr. Feynman
Why– Had asked a friend to suggest some book and he referred me to his FB page (just needed a name, lazy boy). So I have picked this one from the list. Let’s find out his taste

2. Inheritance of Loss
By – Kiran Desai
Why–I already have the book, but have procrastinated starting it till now

3. A thousand Splendid Suns
By – Khaled Hosseini
Why – The Kite Runner is in my top list, a marvelous piece by this Afghani, so trying the second is a safe bet. And plus I have this too

4. The Language of the Gods in the World of Men
By – Sheldon Pollock
Why – It’s about Sanskrit, Culture and Pre-modern India. I have never read a book on this theme. But 684 pages – as mentioned above, list is subject to change

5. Disgrace
By – J.M. Coetzee
Why – Recommended and gifted by a close friend. I trust her choice

6. The Great Indian Novel
By – Shashi Tharoor
Why – Tried reading it a couple of times but some other book posed a distraction. It’s time for some concentration

7. Snow
By – Orhan Pamuk
Why – Enjoyed reading My name is red. Book has a background of Turkey and for some reason I love the name

8. City of Djinns
By – William Dalrymple
Why - It’s a book on Delhi. Does it need a reason to get into my list?
Like I said, the list is not final, and if there are any reads you highly recommend, do let me know!

A bag of Shells

The trivias in life are sometimes the biggest milestones. The advertised moments, the birthdays, the graduations, the weddings are less important. The real goals are actually less prepossessing. They come to the door of memory unannounced, stray dogs that amble in, sniff around a bit, and simply never leave. Our lives are measured by these.
When I was young my grandmother used to come to pick me up from the school. The smile on her face after seeing me was the best thing in the world. It made me feel so special, so loved and the fact that this refreshing smile will be there always waiting for me at the front gate kept me going all day. I remember walking with her to my home. She was a slow gracious walker. She used to stop once in a while to pick up a shell from the nearby sand pile. I used to adore these shells. It was a little game for me to find a shell better and bigger than the previous day. I would hunt the pile to find my own treasures and show them proudly to her. When we would come back home, she would keep these beautiful shells in her almirah. Every Sunday she would take out her collection and give me and my friend to make something out of it. From ten in the morning till the lunch time, we used to sit in the verandah and rack our brains to impress her with our work. After lunch we would be assigned marks on 100. It used to be the most awaited time of the week but none of us ever aced that score. She always saved a mark or two to leave that incentive for us to work better next time.
When we grew up, she gave me her shell collection which is the best inheritance I could get. My fetish for collecting bus tickets, movie tickets, and dinner bills comes from her. I collect all the junk in the world. But I've learnt that most often than not - all isn't junk after all.

So coming back to the small things in life – getting an IM or a sms from a friend you have been missing a lot, eating a dairy milk after craving for it whole day, maid bitching about an aunty you haven’t ever met, auto wala agreeing at the first go, or the song that you are humming that automatically starts playing in the mall you are at, these are the insignificant things that make your life significant - make it worth living. Enjoy the little things in life, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things

Small events and choices determine the direction of our lives just as small helms determine the directions of great ships. So while going down that road - look for your treasures. By the end of it, you'll have a bag full of glowing beautiful white shells!

Match Made in Heaven

A stranger who I haven’t met (or may be we did meet but nobody introduced us before) looks like a perfect **DAMAAD** to the relatives who love sticking their nose everywhere and who will be least bothered about the ‘Match made in Heaven’ once they have told every possible soul around that they deserve the credit for being the cupid.

I have always believed that falling in love is the best thing that can ever happen to anyone (yes you can tag me as a ‘Typical Girl’) and nothing better than tying the knot with the same person. But the problem comes when you are not holding hands with someone and at the same time don’t want to be in this state with a stranger. Anyways the point is how can you ever think of marrying a person who you have not met in 24 years of your life and decide to celebrate your silver jubilee in just 5 meetings (that too with some aunt using the youngest kid of the family to spy on you like her evil twin).

The pressure from my parents (rather I should say my wannabe parents aka relatives) was growing like a Godzilla ready to pounce on me any moment I decide to rest. My first instinct was to maintain distance from the jaws itself and decided to squirrel away from my family. But me being me, succumbed to the constant ‘Emotional Atyachaar’.

I caved in. Yes I did!!! And so began the laundry list of the expectations- First and foremost I don’t want to marry a kid so he should be atleast 3 years elder to me, Second condition – No NRIs please. I am too much in love with India to settle outside (this helped me in rejecting the first lucrative proposal – the guy was an MS from a US University but wanted to settle abroad). Third – I hate soap opera families aka business families so service class will do… and as I was listing all this down my mother’s cellphone rang and no prize for guessing who it was. My sweet aunt! All I could get from the secretive conversation both the ladies were having was about some US Guy coming to Jaipur (the one I mentioned above). I looked at my Mom and this time she caved in.

Now came the seasons of rejections till I found a person whom I can give a thought to. Let me take you few months back when all of us were on a war footing as my brother was getting married and all the shopping for gifts and clothes was to be done by me and my mother. In a discussion over dinner at my uncle’s place, my aunt (not the ‘sweet 1’ but the one who knows my secrets) mentioned about one of my friend who has a crush on me (why is it so difficult to understand a simple statement ‘Please don’t tell this to anyone’). My Dad asked me if I am interested and I was dumbstruck. ‘No ways, not at all’ was my delayed reply and that was the end to the friend topic forever (at least I though so). Coming back to where I had left, on one of the many trips to Jaipur during the lean month, my mom, out of the blue, mentioned about ‘my friend’. At first I couldn’t understand why is she enquiring about him and then when lightening struck I was irritated and angry. So in order to please me and calm me down she cooked my favourite halwa (I wish I had such tactics!).

After coming back to Delhi I got engrossed with my work. On a relatively free day I was checking the college album and came across his picture. I have no clue what it was which forced me to call him after such a long time. That phone call lasted for about 10-12 mins but for the first time I had a very strange feeling after the call. This had nothing to do with me developing any special feelings for him but for the first time the thought of being with a friend all your life occupied my mind. The concept of marrying a friend whom you know so better is nothing less than getting a chocolate fantasy instead of Belgium dark chocolate cake. It may not be your first choice but it is not something you wouldn’t relish. Isn’t it the ultimate option for solving many of the world’s hassles, disappointments, and general ill intended diabolical messes. It opens new doors and over the time the only missing thing - passion also comes. But soon came the clouding thought of settling for something less. It feels like giving up the hope of finding that one true love that makes your tummy do crazy things and makes you forget how to speak properly.

And so recollecting and gathering myself, I headed to my laptop to check the profile of the guy my cousin had mailed to me but this time it was more of hope and less of reluctance.

NEWS FEED

With my colleagues having lost all hopes of making me work someday, I have more time to kill. So I decided to satiate my never ending desire to intrude in other people’s life by turning to the social networking sites. The need to update status messages is giving competition to breathing air(however the latter will continue to win so that the former can survive).I have started giving a lot of attention to the notifications on the left hand side of the screen. A detailed analysis of all the ‘What’s on your mind?’ over a month has led me to categorize the social networking junta into 7 incredible groups: Hoping to do justice to all kind of personalities.

a.)    Cry Babies – Well, these are the people who don’t want their friends to know what’s troubling them but they do make sure to mention on their updates about how depressing their life is. Kudos to them for adding spice to the bland life of 85 % of vella people (rest 15 % do the same). Not that one should not mention about being eaten by can of worms but don’t forget to let your friends in. If nothing more they might just chip in for the extra pint of beer you need to get over with it.

b.)   M & F Agents (Moving & Forwarding) –  Every morning when I get up and open my account hoping to see a comment on one of my recently posted picture( This is one more category) all I see is 3 to 4 updates on current location, new phone number etc. I wish they sometimes post their credit card number also. At least people will look forward for their recent updates. Why do these men ( a specific characteristic for this specie) consider everyone in their friend list to be their wife who should know about their whereabouts?

c.)     Mush Bags –“Thanx for being in my life Poodle”, “Missing you Sunshine”and blah blah….. I have friends who just cannot stop appreciating rather cannot control clicking on the so called ‘Like’ option to even a horoscope update from their ‘ Sugar Pies’. Sometimes I really feel like replying ‘Nobody wants to be a captive audience to such continuous mushy displays of affection on their PC screen’

      P.S. – Don’t sense any jealousy here

d.)   Lyricists – I love them the most. They have a really innovative way of letting people know what mood they are in. All you need to do is decode the rock band from the lyrics. Some make it simpler for Dehatis like me who do not follow rock music, by posting the u-tube link along with it. Why do we need a song’s folder in are Media Drive when we have such rocking friends.

e.)    Self Absorbed – Made a reference to these people in category b. You can easily identify them. They have at least 50 profile pictures in 1 month ( this doesn’t include putting the same picture again after cropping it) and the only update from their side is ‘ New album posted .’ This category is the most troublesome. Since you are pretty good friends with them so they take your advantage by emotionally blackmailing you to post comments on pics taken in a perpetual pose everytime.

f.)     Plagiarist – They are the true representatives of increasing unemployment in our country. When you don’t have work all you do is post plain, sarcastic or funny quotes all throughout the day and not even once mention the source. The first thing they do in the morning is to open google and search some weird category quotes for an hour at least. Days when they don’t find anything worth their reputation, they move on to the sitcoms like How I met your Mother to ruthlessly use dialogues for which the writers charged thousands of dollars and they get for free. Worst is when they turn to sad ‘lowe quotes’ category. It forces one to commit suicide for making into this world and that to in the Social networking age.

g.)    Newsmen – I am surrounded by a complete brigade of these Rajdeep Sardesais, Bharkha Dutts who consider it their moral responsibility to save people from the trouble of even glancing at the newspapers or the channels flashing Breaking News. These are the people who scored 10/10 in all G.K. quizzes and are still not able to get out of the habit. Be it the Operation Green Hunt, Germany vs Argentina game ,Shashi Tharoor’s controversy over another legendary networking site or for that matter the latest Commonwealth fiasco, they keep themselves updated and drag others also in the loop whether one wants or not.  They do this to make an impression but Kids you are forgetting school is over, there’s no need to fight for that extra mark.

I am sure everyone who reads this will try not to fit in. But I assure you , my special interest in research has been utilized fully. I can find myself touching almost 4 of them. The point is not to make anyone feel less wanted in this world. We all need outlets for the split second emotions and thanx to these networks for giving us a platform to do that.

Me vs Me

“It will be a normal day tomorrow, and nothing wrong will happen. I will have nothing to complain about." She hung on to that thought desperately while switching off her laptop and putting it aside to make space for herself on the bed.

It was 3’ o clock in the night and she couldn’t sleep. She peeked through her quilt to look at the time in her cell.

She: It’s 10.30 in London. Should I call him?

Pseudo She: No, what’s the point. It is of no use

She: Just one call will make no difference. I should. I am really missing him.

Pseudo She: Will you do it everyday? Even if he doesn’t.

She: No. No ways. Why should I? He is not bothered and so am I.

Pseudo She: Then why do it now.

She: Right! I shouldn’t. I won’t.

Pseudo She: ……

She: …………….

After half an hour of scrambling with the two ideas in her mind, she gets up from her bed, puts on the light , opens her cupboard and starts rummaging through her neatly arranged clothes for a  piece of paper. “Here it is! I almost lost it. Why the hell did I delete it from my cell. What if I don’t find it next time?”

She again picked up her cell but this time to dial the number.

##############

Tring…( Long Gap)… Tring …. You’ve reached the voicemail of Mr. XYZ. Please leave your message after the beep.

Beep.

She didn’t know what to say. She was not expecting this. All she could say was “Hi… Sorry dialed your number by mistake. Good night mmm.. Good morning… sorry its night for you… bye.”

And with this embarrassment she lost complete track of time. She was jolted out of her thoughts by the alarm. It was 7’o clock in the morning and time to leave her last night fiasco at home and go for work. She took a quick bath and as usual brushed her teeth after dressing up. She looked into the mirror.

She: I need to get some sleep. Look at the dark circles. Does sleep really do wonders to your skin?

Pseudo She: I hope you will not ping him.

She: Obviously not. But what if he pings? Should I ignore him or should I reply. If I ignore then how will I explain what happened yesterday and if I reply I will want to continue chatting with him but that I shouldn’t do.

Pseudo She: Why do you want to explain anything?

She: He should know that I am over him and not missing him( even though I am but I am trying to). I will have to tell him that.

Pseudo She: He will know it himself…

She: ………

Pseudo She: ……………..

And the tussle continued though out the day pushing it towards the unwanted end. In the evening when she opened the lock and unlatched the door, she heard a noise from within the house, it was the A.C. “Damn! I again left this stupid thing on.” All her hopes of having a perfectly normal day were lying in the garbage and one more day she ended up feeling lost. At night while removing the bottle which had again made its way on the bed, she asked pseudo she,

She: Why do we keep craving and fighting for dreams to become reality and in the process forget the existing reality. Why does life come to a standstill when what we should be doing is to continue walking ahead hoping to fall all over again coz’ isn’t the concept more beautiful than the person?

And this time Pseudo She had no answer. Do you have one?