Simple pleasures

Some of the small things in life that make me happy...

Clearing up my inbox with 0 unread messages
A ping from a friend just to tell me they miss me
Perfect tasting pasta at the end of a tiring day
An unplanned, unexpected fun travel
Beautiful pictures of myself
A very long chat with an old friend
Making a new friend who is just like me
Having nothing to do yet not feeling bored
A surprise gift on a perfectly ordinary day
Superbly relaxing body massage

Receiving an instant reply to my email
Finding a dress that looks great *and* fits me well
A good hair day
Finishing a blog post
Listening to songs that make me smile

Trying a new recipe that turns out to be a hit

Knowing that I'm loved

Shameful

"Be careful about how you dress... Aping the west blindly is eroding our culture and causing such crimes to happen."  -National Commission for Women (NCW) chairperson Mamta Sharma's.


I was appalled at the statement issued by the chairperson of a committee supposedly responsible for fighting for the rights of women in India. This very attitude of blaming the victim instead of the perpetrator has made it increasingly difficult to find a solution for this rampant crime. Newspapers, TV reports and magazines are filled with news about Eve teasing, molestation, rape, harassment and other atrocities committed against women. Despite that, an accusing finger is pointed at the person who has been violated instead of the criminal. 


Let me, for a minute agree with the Mamta Sharma's viewpoint that provocative dressing is an open invitation to men which arouses and instigates them to treat women like objects. How would you justify the sexual abuse of innocent children-some as young as a few months old? If wearing a burqa is a solution to protect women, what about children? The sad truth is that women-young, old, pretty, ugly, educated, illiterate, rich, poor, employed, housewife, handicapped, mentally ill, pregnant, diseased-all are susceptible to sexual assault and are subjected to it as though they deserve it. 


The recent incident of a French diplomat repeatedly sexually abusing his 2 year old daughter sends a chill down the spine. We live in a world where a woman is not safe even in her own house and this is shameful. Walking on the street, in public transport, malls, offices and even in their own homes, women constantly have to be on their guard lest some animal might take advantage of them. In case they do fall prey to such unfortunate incidents, society does not have any qualms in raising questions about the character of the victim, their dressing etc. Where is the focus on identifying the criminal and meting out a deserving punishment to them? Is there anything done at all to help the victim who has been scarred for life? Why do we make the victim feel that somehow it was all their fault? 

A 13 year old girl gets raped and delivers a child as a result of this and her school coolly hands her a Transfer Certificate. It is this mentality that prevents the victim from ever recovering from the incident as they are stigmatized instead of being offered any help.Teaching men to respect women instead of treating them like public property would definitely address the issue. But I know how deeply rooted this idea of women being inferior, weaklings and sex objects is in the psyche of men. I fear that it is next to impossible to even fathom a day when such notions will be changed. However, I do hope and pray that there will come a day when society stops treating this as the victims fault and gives them a fair chance to come out of the trauma. These crimes represents all that is base in the human nature and shows the level to which one human can inflict pain and suffering on the other. 



Every morning, I walk out of my house with a prayer on my lips that I reach home safely in the evening without having to encounter any of the animals who walk among us disguised as men. I shudder when some man crosses me on the street. The numerous incidents that I have experienced and read/heard about have trained me to think that almost anytime, anyone could turn out to be a person who will take advantage of the fact that I'm a woman. I know this is a very negative approach but for a woman there is no such thing as being too careful.

Miss you!

How much a person affects you and your life is understood truly and completely only when the person is away from us.

V has flown to the US and I'm alone here.

I wish I could tell him in words just how much I miss having him around. No amount of talking, chatting or busying myself helps. All my mind wants to do is focus on the fact that he is away from me. Sure, I'm going to see him after some days-35 to be precise. That is no consolation for the misery I feel. And 35 days seems like some day in the next era. I pretend to be happy, busy, casual and even unaffected. I do not want people around me to notice this emptiness in me. I want to portray an image of a strong woman, but pretending is tough.

It's surprising how the mind works in its own mysterious ways to connect unrelated events or things back to the one you sorely miss at that point in time. It seems as though the mind is deriving a sadistic pleasure in seeing you go weak at such moments.

I read the newspaper and suddenly wish he was here to share a news item. As I talk to a friend and hear some gossip, I get eager to go back home in the evening to share the story with him, only to be reminded the next minute that I'd have to wait for almost a month more to narrate this. Not finding him next to me the first thing in the morning is unsettling. Just how an I going to get used to this?

Somehow, nothing can fill the void that his absence has created in my life. Music, family, friends, work-none of these can ever take his place. Until the minute I saw him enter the departure lounge at the airport, I never imagined the intensity of the pain his absence would cause me.

For a year now, I have developed a habit of constantly keeping him updated about me and every action, event and every thought that crosses my mind. Now it feels as if I did not know of an existence before him.

It has only been 2 days since he left and it seems like forever. I'm struggling to keep myself together. I know I'll get through this. However, not without wishing this would be the last time I'd ever have to stay away from him.

Distance does make the heart grow fonder. And sadder!

Chronicles of my weight-loss plans

I have always been an obese child. Since everyone in my family is on the heavier side, I assumed it to be a normal state to be in. However, in my teens, comparing my potbelly to the flat, tight abs of all the pretty girls in class made me sink in the abyss of low self-esteem. I started considering myself as ugly and hideous although I’m quite ordinary looking.

My love for all things fried and incessant snacking only led to the piling on of more fat on my hips and I started looking much older than I was. Since I had resigned myself to being the ugly duckling, I was too busy sulking about my looks than to notice what the problem was. In addition, there was no one around to control my poor eating habits and inculcate healthy ones. I continued to feast on junk food while my body continued on its road to obesity & ill health.

My love-affair with fat and unhealthy food continued for many years through high school and in college. And then I entered the corporate world. As fate would have it, I ended up working for a company whose basic principal is to keep their employees happy by feeding them food at all times. All for free. It was as if the floodgates of junk food had been opened. I spent most of my time in office working hard and of course treating myself to yummy food as a reward for all the hard work. Within 3 months, I put on a whopping 10 kgs.

Like the countless people who have tried different tricks and techniques to lose weight, even I have tried my hand at all them.

One fine day I realized that I need to do something about my ever increasing weight. Office gym was the best place to tackle it, I thought. With the new found enthusiasm, I braved the heavy rains and horrible traffic to buy a new pair of gym shoes and clothes. And then I went to the gym, for 2 weeks! Vacation, work load, laziness (not necessarily in that order) thwarted my plans. And then I went back to my old ways of stuffing my belly with super-awesome, oily, fatty food. Gym did not do me any good, I concluded.

A couple months later, I decided to join aerobics. To my surprise, I actually enjoyed it. I shocked myself by being regular and committed for 3 months. And without anybody telling me, I switched to eating only healthy food. I swore off desserts. I did not touch any desserts for 3 whole months. I still can’t figure out what had gotten into me. And no prizes for guessing what happed. I lost weight. Full 10 kgs. I was lighter and fitter. I even had an absolutely flat tummy. Just like all good things come to an end, my stint with aerobics ended. The strange conspiracy of the universe to keep me fat! The trainer quit her job.

For a while I managed to keep myself under control but all the evil forces within me that had been starved off junk food suddenly raised their ugly head. I was transformed into a monster that could devour any and everything that it could lay its hands on. No surprise that I put on those 10kgs and more.

On a sudden stroke of inspiration, I decided to give gyming another try. This time I had a workout -companion. She motivated me (dragged me more like) to the gym every day. I started becoming a regular. But the monster was not satisfied. It continued to feed the evil forces despite my resistance. Conclusion-I did not put on weight due to gyming but I did not lose any due to the indiscriminate hogging.

This arrangement was okay by me as long as I didn’t put on any more weight. And then I got engaged. I had 2 months to lose all the weight that I had accumulated over the years. I was determined to look breathtakingly gorgeous on my wedding. Left with no option, I decided to follow a crash diet. I visited a dietician who claimed to have helped hundreds of people lose their weight. She prescribed a diet plan that was mostly liquids. Very severe and highly difficult. But I had already visualized myself as a beautiful bride on my wedding day. And I was prepared to do almost anything to achieve that. So I took up the challenge. I starved and followed the diet very very strictly for 2 months. And I did lose weight. Not as much as I had imagined but enough to make me happy with the way I looked on the D-day.

Mission accomplished and dieting stopped. As is the case with my most people, post marriage I stopped taking care of myself or bothering about what I ate. The issues that cropped up as a result of arranged marriage made me anxious. And I took comfort in eating as a cure for my anxiety. This continued for 8 months. During which time I travelled a lot with my husband. I took many pictures but refused to share any with friends or even to meet new people as I was growing conscious of my protruding belly and flabby hips.

Yet again I was determined to take corrective action. This time I put my money on weight-loss powders. Survive on milkshakes prepared from these powders and you shall lose weight, I was told. I tried that. For 2 weeks! The thought of only drinking milkshake with no solid food let alone oily, greasy food made me sad and upset and hungrier. I stopped.

2 months later, I enrolled myself in an aerobics class nearby. As mentioned earlier, aerobics is something I enjoy. I went there regularly for 2 months. I did not see instant results like the last time. Mainly because I wasn’t as strict with my diet. Nevertheless, I realized that I was toning up and people had started noticing the difference.

This is my 3^rd month of aerobics and I’ve already started having the urge to gorge on junk food. Much as I exercise control on my tongue, the thought of these delicacies continue to torment me.

This is a constant and continuous battle and I have to wage this all through my life. Love for food as well as a desire to look attractive and wear the most fashionable of outfits is tearing me.

 After these varied experiments and attempts at weight loss, I’ve come to understand that the most important component for this activity is not the right trainer or a certain magic potion. The only way to do this right is with discipline. There is absolutely no substitute for this and I’ve learnt this the hard way. No matter how hard I work and how good the results may be, once the discipline slips, you’re back to square one. A burning desire to keep going long after the results are obtained is the key to success. Although I know this, it is very difficult to implement and I’m still struggling to bring myself to follow it.

Every morning as I get ready to go to work, I look at myself and make a promise not to eat junk food for the next week so as to reduce my paunch. Yet, the sight of a lovely chocolate cake topped with whipped cream makes my heart melt and my brain forgets all promises. Sigh!

Friends

They say you can’t choose your family but you can choose your friends. However, there are some friends that just ‘happen’.  You don’t go looking out for them. I’d like to believe that the Universe just conspires in such a way that a series of events leads you to a certain person and then a friendship is forged. That’s my way of trying to see magic in everyday events. Adds so much excitement and wonder to life!

I've had the good fortune of having a few such special people in my life. When I look back, I’m amazed at the strange turn of events that have led me to these people. And surprisingly, every single one of these has had such a powerful impact on my life. Some of them have played roles so important that my life would have panned out in a much different fashion had it not been for them.

I didn’t realize how a teenager who called me to play a prank has become one of the closest friends. The countless hours of talking, leg-pulling, cribbing wouldn’t have been possible without that prank. In hindsight, it appears all too 'filmy' now. But I’m glad it happened.

The people who I treasure and who add value to my life are the ones that have been gifted to me. I think I’m really lucky because at every stage, someone enters my life at the right time and plays the role that helps me move on to the next stage-always enriching me and leaving a lasting impression.

Power Of Words

Some people are especially proud of their acid tongues. The bitter words spoken out are considered their weapon to prove to the world that they are superior to the others. To me, this just shows the insecurity they have in their mind. Why else would any sane person resort to such means of inflicting pain on others merely by the use of their sharp words? Words which once spoken cannot be taken back, which have a greater impact than any other expression or action.

It is one thing to inadvertently hurt somebody with your words and its quite another to intentionally do this. What kind of jerk would take immense pleasure in causing pain to another person without any consideration for the feelings and emotions of the person who is at the receiving end of his fury and madness? Can't they, for one moment realize that just because the other person is not well equipped with the cruel words, does not give them the supreme right to trample over others' feelings and crush them completely and heartlessly.

I've known several people who walk about this earth like they are the blessed souls who have been granted the divine power to speak their mind out ensuring that the speech delivers a few good blows to the ego of the one who hears them. Sadistic fools !!
I'm simply stunned at the thoughtlessness of these beings who deem it their birth right to burn the one who upsets them with the fire of their words. No remorse what so ever. Much less the thought that they have wronged. I guess its an integral part of their malicious personality, flaunting it at every opportune time.

"Words can make a deeper scar than silence can heal"
Why can't people just remember this and the world would be a much better place to live in.

Of Hopes & Dreams

"When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it..."
                                                                                -Paulo Coelho


The wait is making me anxious. This wait is killing me. I am restless to the point of getting irritated with myself. The whole things seems like a mirage. With every step that I put forward, I feel like a few more miles have been added between me and my dream. Under normal circumstances, this wouldn't have been such a big deal. But this is not a normal circumstance and I've pinned all my hopes and way too many expectations to take this lightly. 


No doubt there is definitely a whole lot of excitement and eagerness. The sooner this phase ends, the better it is for my stressed out nerves. 


"It's the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting."

And interesting it indeed is! The small window between the possibility of the dream coming true and achieving the dream is the most exciting phase. One puts in all the efforts and waits. Waits for the seed of labour to germinate and bear fruits. You know you're just one step away from success, yet that one step feels like a journey of a million years. You summon up all the power of your sub conscious mind to remain positive. Yet, a small flicker of doubt lingers in some remote corner. You try your best to ignore it. You wait for the moment to unfold in the way you have visualized it over an over again in your mind.

I know that my dream is somewhere out there. I would like to believe it is waiting too, just like me. The universe will unite us when the moment is right. Pretty soon, I hope!