The cabbie drives on…

Prompt: Fragile Lives (Used in sentence)
 

Life is beautiful! I sincerely believe. There are plenty of awesome people, loving souls, provided you are open to attracting them into your life. The more you learn to trust the ways of the Universe and have faith in the Divine, the more wonderful people will walk into your space.

When my driver went on an emergency, I was stranded. Getting to work on time became a task. I had to re-adjust my morning schedule in order to "waste" those extra minutes waiting on the road to flag down a cab.

But lo! I hailed the same cab on three consecutive days. The cabbie was as surprised as me. On the fourth day, we exchanged numbers and now he drives me to and from work every single day. He waits patiently if my meetings run late, offers me soft drinks, switches off the meter if the traffic builds up, seeks my advice on gifts for his teenager... he's become like family. Just like my driver, who has gone to nurse his ailing wife, and calls me every week from Pakistan updating me of his situation and never once forgetting to ask me about Diya and conveying his regards to Sanjeev.

Recently, one day, I caught my effervescent and cheerful new cabbie friend, quiet. Almost sullen. On me pestering him, he opened up.

In his own words...

"Today, it's three years, madam. On the evening of May 14, 2013, I reached home. My wife and children were waiting for me. My old mother also came out to greet me. She can't walk, but she was standing beside me all the time, I was talking to men from the neighbourhood.

"It was 9pm, by the time the house was empty. Then I had a shower and had dinner and slept off. I was very tired madam. The previous night I had not slept, was packing and friends coming over. Then the four-hour drive from the airport. I somehow managed to unpack and give the toys to me youngest son. I told my daughters I will give them their gifts in the morning.

"Morning, my wife woke me up with tea. That's when I realised, I did not speak even a word to her. I didn't even know when she closed the kitchen and joined me at night. I asked her to sit down, but she said that she was very busy. She had a lot of work that day madam. Two goats were purchased to celebrate my home-coming. She had to oversee all the preparations. It's tradition in our place, madam, when we go home all our relatives - men, women and kids, come to greet us.

"It was a feast that day. Houseful. Like a wedding day. Most of the people had stayed back for dinner, too. I distributed all the chocolates and perfumes to the women and kids. Gave money to elders. Everyone left happy. My mother was proud. I could see it in her eyes, madam. At last, at about 10pm, I had some time to myself. I took out the Rolex watch, I bought for my wife, and hid it underneath the pillow. I couldn't wait to see her surprise, when I give her.

"I waited till 12, and she didn't come. So I went looking for her. Our youngest son had a fall, and she was attending to him. I said, "I'm waiting for you. Come fast," and I returned to our room.

"I fell asleep, madam. When I woke up, she was lying beside me. She was awake. I sat up. She didn't speak. I thought she was tired. So I lifted her up on my lap. I asked her to guess what gift I got her. But she was silent, madam. I just held her. After all, she had such a hectic day."

He felt silent at this point. And I let him be. After a few minutes, he continued...

"Then she said, she is uncomfortable. I asked her what problem she is having and she said she can't breathe. That's when I noticed madam, for the first time, her eyes were not bright. Her face was pale. I shouted. I called for my brother. My younger brother heard me and came in. I asked him to call our friend who has a car. Fast I urged him to run and fetch the vehicle.

"She went off madam. In my lap. In my hands, she went off. I didn't even speak to her in peace."

"Was she suffering from some..."

"Nothing madam," he replied before I could finish the question. "She was healthy. Very beautiful. Not like women here, madam. No make-up shake-up. So beautiful she was, natural beauty. She was excited about me going. She had so many plans. We are all balanced on a delicate breath. Fragile lives! As long as you can hold it in you are alive..."

God Bless him!

I am with Team #CrimsonRush for the #BarAThon from 1st to 7th August 2016

A little faith, much love and... some gooey curry

My little girl's charcoal sketch of The Enlightened One... A coincidence that she shook me awake after this!

When I said I will not eat a dish placed precariously in delicate china near a yellow candle that seemed to croon and blush the maroonish-glistening gravy, I was told, "People come from far and wide enduring traffic, toll and weather, sit in queue to savour this and you don't even want to taste it?" My gregarious friends exclaimed as they scooped up more than heaps of dollops into their plate as the husband passed me the raitha.

"Why is she like this?" They continued, as if I had fought tooth and nail and forced them on a trip to Iceland only to complain about the weather and sit sipping Horlicks I carried along.

"I have faith in my organs," I replied.

"What!"

"I have a deadline to meet tomorrow. I can't waste time in the loo." I explained.

"Common on, yaar!"

"If my eyes don't approve of it, my stomach will not accept it. Simple."

"That's your misplaced belief," said one from the other end of the table. Seconding him, came a few comments. "Yeah, yeah. This is all unwanted beliefs." "You should be open to everything." "You tend to be stuck in a one-off incident...". "You are even otherwise very rigid in your beliefs..."

What the heck? I thought. My stomach, my body, my mind, my decision.

As I began saying, "Even you guys are rigid in your belief...", the husband shushed me leaning across asking, "Want more raitha?" scuffling the rest of sentence, "...that only non-vegetarian dishes can complete a party," into his armpit.

It sucks. No, not his underarms. That ilk and their eeky beliefs.

This incident happened two years back.

But its only today I realised my ignominy of having tugged along defending gluttonous delight using magnanimous words such as belief and faith, when I was confronted with a situation that questioned my belief and faith.

As in Belief and Faith!

I forced my little girl to visit a holy shrine of which she had no idea of only to honour someone else's faith in the deity. In my blind belief to appease the person I love, I thrust my belief on to my daughter expecting her to follow instructions in good faith. And the project cancelled at the nth hour. An hour that proved costly only to my little girl as it came after she missed two days of school.

Lessons learnt.

1. Never thrust religion on your children. Enlighten them on all. Even talk to them of your beliefs in a particular faith and believe, yes believe, in the knowledge you impart and leave it to them to choose their faith.

2. Never mix faith and love.

Morally conscious papas and mamas @ work

Becoming a parent is bliss. The act of nurturing the bundles into young adults is a blessing.

Tradition, culture, values, beliefs, faith, empowerment, education, vocation, passion… name it, we guide our kids the best way we can in all ways we can at all times we can until we ever can. I know of mamas and papas who are so obsessed with parenthood that honorary doctorates would fall short for their priceless research on offspring rearing. From the best curriculums, the best teaching methods, the best schools in towns, the best extra-curricular activities that can put the kids directly on that spaceship…they know the best.

Here are some comments of such ethically and morally conscious parents I have been privy to.

“Oh! **** ***school. I don’t like that. Have you seen their uniform? You just need to look at the way those students walk.”

“I’ll never look at *****. Do you know they hire housewives as teachers there?”

‘Children should settle abroad. They have no future in India.’

Interestingly, these are parents extraordinaire who will wash down culture, manners, ethics and morals down their kids’ esophagus with their daily Bournvita.  Check these out…

“I punish my son, if he doesn’t do his bed every morning before going to school.”

“I call my neighbour’s kids every weekend to play with my daughter. It’s important she learns to share her toys and space.”

“I ensure my girl washes her undergarments herself.”

“I reward my son with an ice-cream every Sunday, if he keeps his toys in place through the week.”

Courtesy: TFW

Now, these mamas and papas after disciplining their wards and planning for their future, when they turn up at workplaces, play brooders. Place a clutch of eggs under them and rest assured your tea-time sandwich is taken care of.

The office boy should collect the print-outs from the printer. ‘That’s his job’, they remind you and yell,  ‘where the hell is that idiot!’

He should offer coffee, guessing their sugar swings, at regular intervals without being told. That’s his job. ‘How many years, you’ve been giving me coffee. You still can’t get it right!’

The cleaner should wash their lipstick-kissed or cigarette-smelling cups after their last sip. That’s his job. Otherwise, the stained cups will accumulate beside their keyboard for days!

If newcomers commit an error, they are corrected loudly and clearly. ‘We also started like this!’

If juniors show enthusiasm, then they are passively bullied. ‘He needs to be shown his place now, else tomorrow he’ll shit on our scalp!’

Once they are done with disciplining co-workers they get down to executing their own future plans…They will block all calendar holidays in advance and if an emergency befalls any colleague during their pre-planned holiday, they will fall ill with a contagious disease!

And, yes, when they sense work pressure increasing or deadlines nearing, their kids would be performing in a surprise orchestra and they would have to be present at school right away...'to boost their morale'!

M...orally-conscious florals!

Talking sexual ethics with children

This appeared in TFW on April 9... 

Graphic Courtesy: The Financial World

When my primary school child quoted the word 'stranger-danger' from her life skills lesson, I was intrigued as to what was explained in school.

Catch them young, we say, for all developmental matters. Then why camouflage sexual assaults under stranger-danger? Times have changed. Do not take chocolates from uncles, and do not smile at mamas are fine. Do not allow any one touch you inappropriately! This, this sentence, is what parents and teachers need to explain to youngsters. This explanation creates awareness.

April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month!

All modes of transportation - running buses, moving cars, speeding bikes - are being utilised to make women of all ages in all nooks across the country 'aware' that India's conscience might have been stirred when the Nirbhaya flame simmered but that of the beasts are yet to be nudged.

What an irony that thepace of brutality continues unabated even as laws are being revised andcreated. By ensuring stringent punishments, quicker trials and widening the umbrella of assaults under unpardonable crimes, politicians are doing their job. The media is also doing their part by reporting, analysing and debating the same.

So who isn't doing their part right? None. All are doing their best. It's the culture that needs to change. With details of rape, sex and attacks blaring our living rooms at prime time, we can't afford to say our culture doesn't allow discussion of the same with our growing-up children. And with technology threatening to invade every inch space of our lives with each passing day, children's curiosity cannot be contained either. Therefore, it is time we revisited the list of 'taboo topics' in family and educational institutions, if we really care to snub sexual attacks.

By informing women about their rights or threatening men about the consequences of sexually attacking females, one is definitely spreading awareness, but that is akin to focussing on pedicure, ignoring foot care.

General knowledge quizzes in schools should include such incidents. Especially with pre-teens, for whom teachers' words are the Bible, classrooms are the best platform to reveal the real world to impressionable minds. As for teenagers, again a neutral environment of a school is the best place to quell their curiosity on sexual topics and answer their doubts.

And this should be taken forward by parents. Gone are the days when birds rubbed their beaks and flowers brushed against one another to let couples make love on screen. Let's not change channels or look into space when that happens. Sit along with your children and watch. That would be the beginning of getting comfortable to discussing sexual ethics with youngsters.

You never know, this small step could lead to the much-needed cultural change for a better tomorrow.

 

My husband’s woman friend

The first person my husband introduced to me, soon after we became man and wife was a woman.

He waxed eloquent about her efficiencies. His comments did little to arrest my sultry senses despite the cacophony at the wedding venue. If my disdain did little to stop her monologue, the wedding protocol failed as much.

Within minutes, I learnt she was a mother, a wife, an employee and, of course, was to be the default family friend.

Yes, ‘educated’, too.

My initial reservations about her were misplaced quickly as she took it upon herself to settle us into our married life. On hindsight, I guess, it was more of the casual I-don’t-fancy-older-women statement by the husband that made me like her.

She ensured we visited her every week, which I obliged as I had no other acquaintance in the new city. And she quickly put me at ease with her nineteen-to-the-dozen talks. From where to shop the best linen tops to which supermarket sold tomatoes at a cheaper rate, she knew it all.

Yep, she also detailed me on which banks offered the least-risk-associated credit cards.

Thanks to her, I cultivated a tolerance for numbers, a task even my best Math teacher failed to achieve.

A health freak, she had only salads for dinner, and forced us to eat the same, too, on our weekly visits. If we missed out on a week-end, she expected a convincing excuse.

Every weekend morning, as an alarm clock crying, would come her call. ‘You guys still sleeping?

You may please look for us in this picture

A month later, she landed home with a couple of guys and had the husband enrolled with the local cricket team, which played only over the weekend. “Exercise is the last thing on your mind, when you are newly-wed…” she reprimanded.
When I started job-hunting, she whole-heartedly took over the project. Decided which interviews I would attend and what salary I should negotiate on. “You’ve got media experience, then why the hell should you take up any job. Wait for a media opening,” she counselled.

Meanwhile, she introduced me to the local reading club and got me membership at the library.

I began admiring her. A super woman, indeed!

She has influenced my current home management technique as well. Every Saturday she planned what would be cooked the entire week. Cut onions; made ginger-garlic paste; cut at least three different vegetables; marinated meat & fish; made dough for chappatis… all went into the freezer in small containers marked for each day of the week.

On week days, she took a half-an-hour break after she returned from work at 5.30pm. Kids’ study-time, which she was hands-on, was from 6pm-8pm. By 9.15pm dinner was served for the family. Washing clothes was also done after the kids packed their school bags for the following day.

Not one school programme of her kids would she miss. “These are all memories for them.” She would avail leave on loss-of-pay or compensate by working over the weekend, but she ensured she was present to cheer her children.

I turned to her for any small hiccups I faced. I trusted her completely. She became my role-model!

A couple of years later, when I was expecting my baby, she took over the role of my mom. From cooking my favourite dishes to shopping for maternity wear and giving me the only-women tips, she was the one-stop guide that I looked up to. 

I secretly wished I could be a woman like her.

During my last trimester, as we sat chatting, she causally asked, “So Nisha, have you decided on a name for the baby?”

After a few minutes of baby talk, she said, “I pray that you have a baby boy.”

Excuse me!

At my puzzled stare, she took my hands in hers and said softly, “If the first child is a boy, then there’s no tension, you see. The second can be any.”

I didn’t know if I was carrying a baby boy or girl at that moment. But I knew I had lost my respect for her - That woman.

[Wedding cake and picture by Priya Sheen]