It Just Cracks Me Up!

I love chibi! It always cracks me up and this one has been cracking me up for some time. It's not much but I just love it.

Love Smiles

I gushed. I curled my toes with giddiness. I felt my blood rush up to my cheeks. I squealed. My eyes twinkled. First and last love. That is the power of love. No, I am not in love but I am a big believer of love. I love love.

My little cousin is in love and she is glowing. As I listened to her bashful narration of her first love story, everything seems so pure and enchanting. Her guy seems so perfect and they seem so perfect for each other. The innocence. The trust. The strength. The honesty. The promise. It’s a magical time and my heart hugged itself and let out a huge OMG-So-Cute-OMG sigh. I smiled for them and for all the other first loves around the world.

Then yesterday my friend told me that she was engaged. I smiled but then my smile quickly turned into a huge excited laugh and scream. We even did little mini jumps while hugging each other. I Oohed, Aahed and OMGed when she told me how her fiancé had been planning to ask her for the last one year; when she showed me the heirloom ring that sat so prettily on her fingers; when she told me how weird and nervous he was before asking her. My heart at that moment was doing crazy Olympic-gold worthy gymnastic moves. And I also smiled for them and for all the veteran loves.

Vague and Stupid and Illogical

God. He may seem irrelevant and out of place in the world that we live today. With new-age gurus, best-selling self-help books, over-medicated therapy and too many accommodating world-views. With magazines and VH1 images that control our lives and wants and ambitions. With Hollywood bodies and sex lives that we are fascinated and compare with. God seems to be lost in all. He seems old-fashioned. A legend. A myth. Or even a conspiracy theory. And for some he is non-existent. But for me, God exists. He is a living God and I totally believe in him. Does that make me old-fashioned? Weird? Brainwashed? Naïve? Fanatical? It is an uncomfortable subject. Religion has always been a sensitive and war-faring subject. But no matter what people say about me or label me as, I cannot deny that I need God and that I totally and irrevocably believe in him. At this point I am a little scared and uncomfortable because there are lots of things that I don’t have answers to. Never-ending arguments about God and his ‘mysterious’ ways. Why does He let people die? Why does He let good people get hurt? Where was He when I was in agony? What does he want from me? How can he let innocent children suffer at the hands of pedophiles? How can He justify himself when it is because of religion that the world is in such a fucking mess? If He is the Almighty One then why doesn’t he stop all this shit? Where is the proof that he really does exist? I don’t know and I don’t have any concrete answers or proofs. But that still does not discourage me from trusting and trying to be faithful to Him. I have a long way to go and there is going to be a lot of backlash and questions, but I will never regret this decision. All this may sound vague and stupid and illogical. But this is my starting point. And like everyone else’s starting point, it is still yet to be defined.

Live

You punish yourself

Not letting go

Of your mistakes, anger, regrets and what-ifs

You think happiness is not a possibility for you

You used to curse god

Now you don’t believe in one

You think life is unfair

You’ve forgotten how to count your blessings

And spend way too much time thinking of your misfortunes

You think you are damaged

Too damaged to be repaired

Too damaged to hope

You’ve given up on yourself

After all the pain caused to you and by you

You feel you don’t deserve to live

That your sins are too many

Too burdensome and condemning

You don’t want to continue living like this

But I ask you

To live

Because sins can only be atoned while you are alive

So please stay alive

And The Hunter Became The Hunted

I had one month and within that time period anything could happen. And I was ready for it. Or so I thought, given the fact that this would be my fifth one in four years. But house hunting is a toughie even for a veteran like me. I still get shocked, frustrated and amused at life’s idiosyncrasies and prejudices.

Are You Veg Ya Non-Veg: Yes, I got rejected because I am meat eater. I understand and no offence to vegetarians, but I found this one very amusing.

Aisa Log Ko Nahin Chahiye: This is something I get all the time and still have a hard time getting used to it. Getting rejected because I am a ‘chinky’ (I hate this word) is something that I have come to tolerate. Initially it used to bother and hurt me a lot. But now I just shrug my shoulders and say thank-you to landlords if they have not shut the door on my face by now. I don’t blame them but it still gets to me on my worst days.

Annoying Dealers: After getting the news that our house would be vacated by the end of the month, the property dealers viciously pounced on us. I understand that they need to scout out for new properties and so on, but what I hate is their crude mannerisms. I hate the way they just come unannounced to the house and bang rudely on the door. Even at 8:00 in the morning! Now that is just plain harassment! Or the way they demand that you give them your landlord’s details. Or their audacity to think that they have the right to look around the house anytime they want even after 9 pm. I used to get intimidated before but now I firmly tell them off with my half-ass Hindi. Hahah! At least I get to practice my much-improved Hindi.

Weird Landlords: I met this landlord who had an extra key to the house because he wanted to be able to come in the house anytime he wanted and check on us. He said that sometimes he might just come in at night - around 11 pm - to see that we are not up to anything suspicious. As if! I found him highly suspicious and creepy. Brrrr! And there was another landlord who had this rule that no one could get out or in the house after 9 pm because he would lock the main gate. I told him that my work hours were irregular and that there have been, and will be, times when I would come home after 12 am. And his reply was that decent girls should not be out that late. Hmmmm…I obviously will not be taking this house. Thank you very much.

Lots of Rules: No boys. No relatives. No overnight stays. No visitors after 7:30 pm. Parental visits only allowed after taking permission from the landlord. I found some of these rules very strange and strict. Or it could just be me but I highly doubt it.

But there were also some really nice people and houses. So, the world is still in balance. Thank god for that!

These Things Only Happen To Me

Or so it seems because I have not heard of anyone else going through what I have. I am not a klutz but I have my moments. And when I do have them, they are quite epic ones. Here are just a few of those classic moments.

Incident Number 1: I was sitting on a rickshaw and was heading back to my college hostel. As I was about the reach the hostel gate, a camera crew outside the gate (no idea why they were there) distracted the rickshaw guy’s attention from the road. So I told him, “Bhaiya, please pay attention to the road or else we might have an accident.”

Just then the rickshaw banged against a parked auto. The impact made both of us lurch forward and to prevent myself from falling down I grabbed on to the first thing I could grab. And it just had to be my luck that it was the rickshaw guy’s ass. Can you believe it?!?

And to make things worse, there was a group of autowalas who saw the whole thing. So, we were subjected to further embarrassment with the inevitable catcalls. This included cheap hindi songs, whistles, innuendos and laughter. So I quickly paid him, ran inside the gate and washed my hands umpteen times.

Incident Number 2: This happened to me a few years back when my dog was sick and didn’t have much of an appetite. So, in order to get him to eat more, I sat next to him, patted him and cooed sweet words. As he was eating slowly, he suddenly sneezed. But that is not all that he did. He also let out a fart. And, that too, right on my face. Yes, a dog farted in my face. The ewwwwwwwww-ness of it all! And let me tell you that a dog's fart is really deadly because the only thing I can remember about my dog is his fart. Seriously! I can't even remember his name. Just the fart.

Incident Number 3: This one happened very recently (one month ago - July 26th to be exact). I was inside the airport waiting in line to book a radio taxi. I finally got one and headed out. I could see a lot of people waiting outside. As soon as the airport’s automatic, sliding glass doors opened, a man stopped me. He asked me, “radio taxi?” and I said, “yes”. He took my trolley and proceeded to walk. But as I started to follow him I was yanked back. And to my horror, I realised that my hair had gotten trapped between the doors. So, in front of everyone I had to quickly and clumsily free my hair.

Hahahaha. Hahhahaha!

Appa

I saw him after a long time and suddenly he looked much older and frail. And when I hugged him, he also seemed smaller. That’s when it hit me that my dad has really aged. Till that moment my dad was this invincible being that could take on everything and everyone. But this time when I went home, I saw him for him – not as a superhero but the father he is to me.

He is still the same – stubborn, funny, very hardworking, intense, difficult, generous, honest, short-tempered, silly, intelligent and loving. But he gets tired faster. His ulcers give him pain. His feet need to be massaged because of diabetes. His blood pressure gives him these agonizing headaches that deprives him of his sleep.

But despite all that, he still has time to cook my favourite fish dish. He still has patience to listen to me. He still loves to make me laugh with his silly jokes. He never gets sick of narrating stories of me when I was a baby. He still gets worried if I come home after 6 pm. He still wishes that I would dress a bit more girly. And he still wakes up at 2 am to check that I am properly tucked into bed.

So on the last night as I tucked him to bed, he hugged me and told me not to go. He jokingly said that I should quit my job, come home, marry a guy from the nearby village and give him lots of grandchildren. We laughed. But it also made me realise that one day all this would just be a memory. That one day he won’t be there with me.

As my dad drifted off to sleep, he sleepily asked me to tell him a story. I hugged him tight and told him silly stories about my life away from him. He let out a sleepy laugh, kissed my forehead, told me that he was so happy that I was home and that I should come home more often. I told him that I would and stayed with him until his arms around me became limp and he started to snore.