Strength of the weak

"Every woman needs one man in her life who is strong and responsible. Given this security, she can proceed to do what she really wants to do-fall in love with men who are weak and irresponsible." – Richard J. Needham

Though this quote is more on a lighter note, yet I can see the seriousness and truth of it all
 I am sure we all have felt this, some or the other time in our lives
BTW, this applies to men as well
 
But here I am not sure what is weak or whats strong..
Is weak the one who revels in every move we make, every twitch of our eyebrow, every passing of expression on our face
Then we mark this person as weak, weak for loving us to bits like this
Which is actually his/her strength

Or is strong actually the weak men, who make us feel weak and clingy...in their arrogance and convoluted self-esteem
They do whats possible in them to bring the weakest in us come to surface, and turn that into their strength?
And thrive on our weakness?Deriving their strength from it?

The weak might be the bailey Irish cream, which is gentle on your nerves and gives you a mild buzz and their counterparts (aka strong) could be tequila shots which hits you instantly, makes you have more and more of it without thinking of consequences, and then gives a serious hang over when the buzz is gone

And if you love outside marriage, are you willing to leave the comforts of your bailey Irish cream for the charms of a tequila shot? Not many, very very few for sure

So all you women/men out there, who aspire to find love outside marriage, have you ever thought why you still cant leave your spouse.?
Even though s/he lacks the spunk you have, or lacks the mystery which gives you a kick

I will tell you why..

More than societal thing, or the family pressure, its your own desire of acceptance which makes it impossible to break the chains(unless there is a pressing need like adultery, violence and the likes)

We all seek acceptance, from the world, from people we love
When we grow old..we feel the world stops accepting us gradually
We feel that our charisma, which made us glow and gloat earlier, isnt enough to be loved by the changing ways of the world

The world belongs to the youth, thats a fact. Look at all the advertisements around you, they are out there to impress the young, to get them to like what they have to sell. For old ones, maybe pension plans, and for housewives the soap operas.

So we need that one person, who has seen us in our glory, in our hay days
All that we lost, is stored in that one person
We want that person around, cos s/he makes us look good
Even if we feel we lost the enigma and the charm we had earlier, we know that this one person has known us at our best
S/he has seen what we were capable of, how many hearts we could break and how many wounds we could mend

This weak person's undeterred belief in us, will see us thru the mess that we create for both of us
Even when we feel we are no more in love with that person, we can no let go
Maybe it is is another form of love, Self love transcending into love for another

Thank God, we keep our brains in check, just that bit, to never lose that one person
And we realize, life is a little more about giving in to madness
Self obsessed, selfish piece of pests that we are!


But one moment of that streak of madness, I see in another, my dark thoughts take over and I leave all my rationale...and am ready for a tequila shot

Some days I feel there is a black corpse running thru my veins

the day is shrouded in tons and tons of darkness

darkness emanating from unknown things

darkness of the sort, which only the soul can be

And I feel my heart is on the edge of the cliff,

some one just has to tip me off, just a little bit

And I will be in that overwhelming abyss

It was beautiful..thats it..

..and nothing more I can say about the place, thats switzerland.

So words and even my pictures might not do justice to it. So,I wont go into explaining of how it was..and just leave a few pics and the stories behind them here.

The view from my balcony

Wine festival at Chardonne..and I got tipsy

"We must live in interesting times" - Chinese say it. Live band at wine festival and me and my niece danced to that

Finishing our glasses to get it refilled

Sunny and beautiful in Evian

 

Behind me is the place where the famous Evian water comes from

 

Thats 140 meters high fountain in Geneva

United nations and the big chair in front of it

New girl in Geneva old town, old towns are so charming

Thats my trip to Montreux all alone, the animated graffitis were cute. And thats my pink skirt with blue stilettos, suggested by my niece

 

On my way to Montreux in a Ship

The clock tower at Bern where every hour some figures come out and present a show, we missed it cos of the beer talks

 

The beer talks in Bern, what a pretty city

Thats the view from rose garden, I could stare and just dream

Switzerland it was!

I have been back from my trip long back, but a few things have gone topsy turvy at my end
So, I have been trying to handle them and my blogging has taken its toll

Just before I embarked on my journey, something went wrong. Yet, I tried eradicating it from my mind, cos one does not go to Switzerland every day. And if I could not enjoy it just cos of some malfunction in life, then I feel I could not deal with anything which goes amiss in my life

So, with that mindset, I spent my time at the ariport having beer my myself, reading "Love" by Toni Morrison(more on this on my blog later) and talking to people over phone, to let the storm in my mind pass

Ok, a bit about the journey itself.

I went to Zurich via Colombo and the airline had arranged for a 1 day stay in a beautiful 5 star hotel by sea side, which was a treat in itself. The only glitch is : Being all alone, one can not make much of all the beauty in the world.

My 10-11 hours journey from Colombo to Zurich was spent parts in puking(yeah my usual), parts in trying to evade conversation by the strange man sitting next to me, parts in "Love" and parts in watching movies on the inflight entertainment kit.

So this strange man sitting next to me, was a kannadiga Brahmin, who would offer a prayer before any meal.
The moment  I saw him, I had an unnerving feeling that he would try and talk to me. I tried burying myself in book , but he started off in that typical fake accent(very typical of people in south who have been abroad for a long time).
       Its like, mixing sambhar in pasta, if you know what I mean.
They would force a foreign accent, but right in the middle of a sentence, their "Hech" for "h" and "intilligint" for "intellignet" gives them away.(No offense meant to anyone here, we all have colloquial accents, specific to our region and nationality, but faking it makes it all the more hilarious).
He started off by asking me if I stay in Switzerland, from then on he went till my 10th standard results and mark-sheet and percentage and finally he told me I should do MBA.(I felt like I was speaking to my mother).
Then finally he expended all information about himself(maybe asking about me was a trick to actually speak about himself).
He teaches mathematics in Switzerland. But along with that, he kept mentioning how he is into too many things. Jewellery design, interior decorations etc etc. And that he has many "important conferences" coming up. How he has a mansion in most posh area in Mumbai, sea-link. It seems his house will be a place to visit, such is the interiors he is designing. "I am into too many things", was his reply for everything.
Then I saw him trying to chat up air-hostesses and asking them "Do you have time?", some of them gave him cold shoulder, some entertained with feigned politeness and camouflaged boredom. And all this while I tried hiding a smirk.
He would disappear for long hours from seat(maybe trying his luck with air hostesses at the back), which was a boon for me, as then I could extend my legs onto his seat and curl myself to sleep.

Well,he did help me in the end, by telling me as to where to take the train to Laussane. My final destination was Vevey and I was getting picked up at Laussane by my brother in law.

It was a short trip, just 6 days(mis-management) yet I ca not write the zist of it in 1 post.
But, for sure, much remains to be explored(as Italy is still a dream).
I realized that this place is not meant to be visited with sister, brother in law and 2 kids. Its difficult to manage all that I aspired for, in 6 days, with kids falling ill and the general lethargy which is akin to carrying kids around in prams.
Its a place to be explored with someone who has the same madness and rush and lack of time.

But let me just tell you how all of it still appears in my head, in a jiffy.

The magnificent hill and lake which I could see daily from balcony, the wine festival where live music and dance kept me in high spirits, me and my niece playing songs and dancing in the balcony in late evening.
That was just B.E.A.U.T.I.F.U.L. The growing dusk, the hill in front, my kind of music and some memories flashing in my mind while I danced with this sweet little thing who is growing up into a pretty girl. Can't believe 8 years back I was teaching her how to say "Tea"  & "Topsy" & "Teddy"(She caught all words starting with "T" as early as 11 months), and today she is telling me which colour sandle should I wear with my pink skirt.
"Blue goes with pink Sumi Mausi, so wear Mamma's blue stilettos". The way memories get created in cocoons of your heart

The days were so long, they lapped up the night in their over-bearance. And the night came tip toeing around day, as if intimidated by it, and disappeared before I could bury myself in its mysteries.
My glowing tan, in just 2 outdoors. Running to switch trains which are just 5 minutes apart, One reaching at 9.38 and another leaving at 9.43. And dot 9.43 it would be, you could probably adjust your watch to match the trains arrival and departures, its was amazing!

Going to Montreux all alone, sitting and having beer with sister at Bern, talking as usual of old times and things hinting that it might lead to a fight. But maybe the beer or age kept us mellow.Walking up to rose garden and the splendid view of the city from there, P.R.I.C.E.L.E.S.S

All that will follow in other posts, but let me substantiate this post with few pictures

Me and my sis, on my first day at Vevey, at beer festival

 Me and my Aduli - my niece and my friend

Thats me and her 8 years back, time ran out on us

We girls, when we landed at Evian(France)

It's a man's world

Yes it is!
In-spite of all the efforts, all feminism, all this sho-sha about women being equal..there are numerous ways and things in our system which ultimately make you feel so.

I have been planning for a trip abroad. When I applied for VISA, I got a checklist of things to be submitted. One of which said:
   - An NOC(No objection certificate) from husband, if married.
That irked me, but since I dint need to bother about it, I went ahead and provided NOC from my company.

The travel agent lady who was arranging for my VISA, went thru all my documents and sheepishly said: "Can you arrange an NOC from your father also, since you are a single female?"
I frowned and asked "But I have given you from my company, and I am not a minor"
To that she said "We dont want to take chances and sometimes VISA people might ask for it"
I further asked, with chagrin "And if I were a single male, that would not have been necessary?"

She promptly replied "No. no..not for males"
I stared at her in disbelieve and must have borne the most hideous expression, since she just smiled at me in exasperation(with a look saying, this is how the system goes)

I mean, what kind of crap is this? I am a full blown adult, who has been providing for my parents too, in small ways..yet I need to provide all that cos I am a single woman?

What if I am a tyrant and ask my husband on gun point to give me NOC, or torture my father to provide me an NOC? How the hell will they validate?

This stupid system we are in & this stupid country(or maybe its the same everywhere)

Anyways, all that bullshit had to be borne by me and had to provide everything, for all the pleasure that awaits me

So Yes, I am off

To a place with mountains

Where the smell of cheese and chocolates is in the air

And intoxication of wine pervades the nights

I hope to find a lost piece of my heart there

Bye and laterz.. with pics and details of the trip(Just wish that weather remains as good as it is right now, and no rains)

While on the way to work, my iPod was playing this song:

"Hansne ki chaah ne kitna mujhe rulaaya hai"
(The desire to laugh has made me cry so much)

I dont believe in indulging in self pity, yet the simplicity of this song can melt you heart

The first line is so terrific, that each time I hear, it makes me think and feel different things.
And the soulful voice of Manna dey gives it the edge of hopeless melancholy

The flute which starts the song, sets the mood. It has a bong touch to it, reminds me of trees and shadows

Hear it if you like to be beautifully sad at times, and love your sadness

She and Me

No, she is not my role model. There are so many things I would have wanted her to do differently
Be bolder, stand up for what she wanted and deserved, not be a push over..are some of the thing

I believe in breaking things rather than preserving thier ashes
If something does not work out, get rid of it..anything if not wanted in its totality is a clutter..and life should be free of clutter
But she keeps asking me to preserve, to hold on to things till they fall out of my hands without my mistake
And I either get irritated or laugh at her stale values

Yet, when I speak a harsh word with anyone, when I shout at auto-rickshaw guy, I have this nagging feeling of going an notch below in my image in her eyes

Cos I was always this soft girl, who could not fight the world(Now all I do si fight)

No, she was not a dancer. I dont know whose genes I inherited for the danseuse in me.

"हट बे निखाटू गंवारवा मैं तेरे संग ना जाउंगी " - My mother would teach us this dance in her clumsy, faltering, endearing way

Yet to me, till date, thats my sweetest memory of anything close to sweetness

No, she might not be so good in English, or have had as good an education as we had, or maybe we were a tad better student than her

Yet, my oldest  memory of education is about her asking me to write 100 times in a book, something I could not remember easily

My purest feelings, my overwhelming love and my maddening  anger, I feel only for her

Happy mother's day Ma!

माँ और माँ की जाई 

Committing the felony of Eating, praying, loving..

I bought this book "Eat,Pray,Love" (Elizabeth Gilbert), from a roadside hawker, few months back. Those xeroxed ones.
But after reading 229 pages of it, I realized it started repeating the previous pages and many of the pages in between were lost.

So I went back to that place and asked him to exchange it.
He said, he dint have any copy of that book with him anymore, and added
     "Why dont you read 'Committed", its from the same author".
As if the same author means the same book?!
I dint want to read "Committed", so I said I will wait for "Eat,Pray,Love",

I kept going to him, once every week, and this continued for a month
And each time, he tried handing me "Committed".
Finally I thought I will bargain for some other book with him.

But I desperately wanted to read that book so I started trying at other places.

I encompassed a whole of 4 kilometers around my area for that book, and interestingly none of them had it. And EACH one of them tried handing over "Committed" to me.(With the same story about how its from the same author)

This began amusing me, and then I deliberately started asking any hawker I saw, for this book Knowing fully well he wont have it. Just to see if he offers me "Committed" or not. And they all did!

After a while I started feeling as if this was some sign.
As if God was trying to tell me "You have done enough of eating, praying and loving,  now its time to go "Committed"!"

I finally exchanged my "Eat, Pray,Love" with "Committed", from the original shop.
But I wont be opening a page from that book, unless I find and finish my "Eat,Pray,Love"

I am adamant to finish all my eating, praying and loving...till its time for "Committed"..
And the time is never right...unless it feels absolutely right

I wonder if all the mystery in me, my joie de vivre, my humour, my wit will be enough to survive a witless, lackluster, self obsessed, insipid man. Sometimes I get a feeling, it just might.
I dont really need to find my equal.
If yes, then marriage is good, if no then its scary
Cos in the end, it will only be me..its all about me