The story of a fighter #2

The next day my husband and I went to meet the oncologist without my parents. It was a Saturday, my parents were scheduled to fly back home the next day. The result of FNAC was coming on Monday as the pathologist was off duty because of the weekend and the wait was killing all of us. The oncologist calmly answered all our queries and assured us that treatment for breast cancer has advanced significantly in the last decade. She suggested for a mammogram also. As for me, I kept searching her face for a hint of relief, kept waiting for her to say that we do not have to go through this ordeal…but she never did. She kept telling us to cancel my parents’ tickets as she doubted that they will come back for treatment if they ever leave Bangalore. She said she will contact me as soon as she gets the result of the FNAC test.

As I sat outside the hospital I broke down….cried my eyes out. I didn’t care if anyone was watching or not. There were passers-by giving me weird glances but nothing mattered at that time. I just wanted to drown myself in the pain. There I was sitting with my world crashing down and everything else in the world is the same. Everything was just fine till yesterday and now everything has changed. Everytime I tried to make myself strong and took deep breaths to keep myself together I lost it all the more. Finally my husband coaxed me that we will ride some more, get some air before we go home and kept telling me not to break down before my parents. We drove around the city for sometime. Finally we decided to go home. I was surprised at myself as to how casually I responded to my parents. They inquired and I just told them that there is nothing to worry and that we might need a surgery or not, as soon as the result came out. My mother seemed convinced but my Dad wasn’t…later he came to both of us and asked for the truth. My husband and I looked at each other, made my father sit and told him the truth – that there is a high chance that the tumour is malignant, and surgery is to be done immediately, followed by biopsy and depending on biopsy result the chemotherapy and radiation will be decided. He said to himself “She will be fine. All this will not happen”.

For us, the most taxing question was to let them go back home or not…we discussed with my parents, siblings and uncles and decided that they go back home and return to Bangalore on Wednesday. My parents had come to Bangalore on a vacation and were not mentally prepared to face the surprising turn of events; it was best for them especially for my Mom to go home and come again for the sole purpose of treatment. Atleast they will get some time to sink in everything. It was important for her to accept this before we start this grueling task…and so they went home with a heavy heart…full of doubts and fear not knowing that the worst was yet to come.

There was this eerie silence in the house after they left, this fear that is lurching at all of us and I was finding very hard to calm down and find peace. Everytime I try to sleep I would run short of breath and would feel as if suddenly I am running out of air; everytime I tried to eat something I could not even take a single bite…everything was surreal and I didn’t know how to handle it. Some of our friends came to visit us and comfort us; only after they came I could fall asleep in our couch listening to their voices; atleast the eerie silence was gone.

I went for work on Monday; getting startled every time my phone beeped. It was around lunch time when our doctor messaged that she got the verbal report from the pathologist and it is malignant. I read the message and suddenly felt light and almost fell down. I searched for a chair and sat down. I went to the bathroom and cried; how do I muster up the courage to tell everyone? Finally I called my husband and told him; he was also devastated. I then called my brother and told him too; he felt silent and choked as he spoke. He asked “So what should we do, Che”? I told him I will do the tickets right away; told him to decide who is coming with Mom and also strictly told him not to tell too much to her. He said OK.

My brother and Mom were coming; Dad had to stay back as someone had to look after the house. My brother wanted to be a part of the ordeal that was coming and be with Mom. Both of them reached on Wednesday. The next day she was asked to take full rest and the day after we went to meet our oncologist. By then, the FNAC result had come and it was found to be malignant. Mama did a PET CT scan to check if the tumour had spread to other parts of the body; luckily the report came to be good. Her surgery date was decided on February 21, 2017.

My Mama is a deeply spiritual person and her spirituality manifested in the best possible way during the course of her treatment. The day of surgery, she got up really early, prayed, visited the nearby temple, meditated and finally told us “I am ready!” My husband, my brother and me went to hospital, got her admitted, did all the proceedings and we were given one shared room, the next day was her surgery. The day of surgery all of us went to meet her…she was cheerful and told us that she slept well the previous night. The nurse came and announced that she has to be taken to the Operation theatre, she changed her clothes and sat down to pray. Then she held each one of our hand and prayed for all of us, I was all broken inside. The nurses turned away and let us have that moment. She said she is scared that she is going to be unconscious; that she had read stories of patients not coming back to sense after anaesthesia…we assured her she will be fine. We followed her as long as we could until the nurses told that we cant be let in. Then we stood there and waited…hoping, praying and trying not to lose my sanity.

(to be continued)

The story of a fighter #1

Its been a while since I have thought of sharing this story. The story of my Mom. This story needs to be told coz this is pure inspiration. The story of a battle between this amazingly strong woman and cancer. I will be uploading the stories in parts so bear with me.

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There are few people in my life who have inspired me to get going against all odds and it is indeed a blessing to realise that one of such person is my mother – a woman who is beautiful inside out. Her indomitable spirit, her gracefulness and her unconditional love….everything about her mesmerizes me. I have always admired her but never have I realized her strength until recently...ironically on my first wedding anniversary, the day my world came crashing down.

Mom and Dad had come to visit my husband and me at Bangalore and just 3 days before they were to leave for home we scheduled a master health check up for both of them at Apollo hospitals. Dad is 60 years old and diabetic, Mom is hypertensive and has osteoporosis. My husband accompanied my Dad door to door and I was with my Mom doing all the tests mentioned in the checklist. For Dad, all reports came normal. My Mom’s report is an altogether different story.

In the ultrasound of her left breast, the doctor identified a lump so we were redirected to an oncologist on call. She examined her breast and asked the nurses to get some needles. I was searching her face for a hint of clue as to what was happening. She mentioned about carcinoma and malignancy and other such words…words which sent chills down my spine. My mother on the other hand was really cool and was very sure and kept telling me that the doctor was wasting her time. Later, I was told to stay outside as they have to collect some sample from the lump. I waited there with my husband and Dad, little knowing what was going on, just hoping that everything will be all right. Finally when the nurse called me I went inside and the doctor explained to me about a certain FNAC test – supposedly a needle test in which they take out tissue from the lump and examine it pathologically for signs of malignancy. As she was explaining me, my mind wanders away and I kept telling myself that I have to focus and not lose my ground. The doctor took her medical history…mom was smiling and telling about my brothers and sisters and how she could not breastfeed us properly coz she had to go to work. She is sure that the lump is because of breast milk that became a mass. 

The doctor told me to come again the next day so that she can explain the treatment and magement if the results of the FNAC test turns to be malignant. She told not to bring my mother. She also told to cancel their return ticket and told that if it is malignant it has to be surgically removed immediately. It took me a while to understand the reality of the situation. Somehow I kept hoping that the result of the FNAC test will be normal. I just hoped but deep down I knew from the severity of the way the doctor conveyed…that something was wrong. 

(To be continued)

Bitterness speaks!

Today I read this amazing line. “Some days you meet someone and you immediately know you wanna spend the rest of your life WITHOUT them”. I know this feeling. I have always tried to surround myself with positive people, kind hearted, forgiving souls, people who will go out of the way to help others. I am no saint for sure – my friends and I take pleasure in stupid gossips, narcissistic indulges to feel good about ourselves; we all have been hurt and hurt others; we have drank away our griefs at times and uplifted each other in weird ways. I can never imagine them plotting away to malign someone’s character or humiliate them publicly. It is strange for me. And I am sure it is for those who share the same thought process as me. Recently I had this humiliating encounter of being roasted in between; raising voices around me to the point of embarrassment and there I was standing solely, lost, not knowing what to do. I just wanted it to end. Whoever was wrong or whoever was right, it is not important anymore. I wish I was at a position to stop it and I just felt like they took advantage of my naïve nature. It just didn’t feel right. Age old grudge they nurture in their hearts and one fine day, the storm arrives and tore apart all relations and the peripheries too. Its no more cordial anymore. Earlier atleast you could fake a smile or fake a “Hello” but now the strand has been butchered by sheer volume of words and tone. Aaaahhhhh!! Women!! I admire strong, intelligent women with a kind heart. But women who try to intimidate others with sheer noise and crap that comes out of their mouth I hate. For a change, why not keep our minds confined to serve the purpose for which we are paid to do, finish the fucking job and go back to wherever hole we came out of. Why interfere in personal spaces, why talk behind back, why raise voice to prove superiority, why not keep the damn politics away!! Sometimes its just so hard to ignore or just walk away!

I have a loving family to go back home to, and no matter how my day went, I have someone who can straighten all the creases of the day with just a simple word. I do not wish to carry my baggage of such days back home. And I had to let go of this restlessness so here I am writing it out. I wish they do the same. I wish them well and really hope that someone out there loves them and straighten all the twists they had. Kindness pays, my dear! For once, shed the bitterness and spare a moment to be kind. The consequences will surprise you! AMEN

Facade

My first lines at Notegraphy! I love the styles...makes my words look exotic and thoughtful (hahaha)

Munnar - A Trip to Remember

After weeks of planning and researching on every possible way to visit Munnar, Kerala, our group decided to hire a Scorpio from self-drive car rental service Zoomcar and decided to go on a road trip; the vehicle to be driven by 2 of our friends who proudly flaunt their driving skills. And as it turns out, the boys were filled with admiration of the vehicle throughout the trip and one of them have even decided that Scorpio will be his next purchase (lol)

We started at around 4 am from Bangalore and took regular breaks in between to feed our lenses, stretch our legs, drink coconut water and sometimes just to soak in the pleasure of meeting each other after months. We went via Bangalore- Hosur-Krishnagiri-Salem highway stopping at Salem for breakfast, marveling at the vast stretch of windmills along the way whom one of my friend called out excitedly as “Hey, look at those big fans!!” and thus the uproar of laughter and legpulling continued. My husband who happens to graduate from Government College of Engineering, Salem showed us his campus as we drive and went on a nostalgia trip and it was equally reminiscing for me in ways I don’t know as this was the place that made him the man today…the man I love and admire the way he is and I know his growing up years in this place so far away from home sure had a profound impact on him. Brushing away these thoughts and listening to his stories of his college days we talked and laughed our way to Munnar with the best guide ever – Google Map!! All thanks to Google map we could find our way and even the quality of road we will be travelling.

Somewhere along the Highway

After numerous toll gates we reached Chinnar Wildlife Sanctuary wherein the roads are filled with posters warning travelers that wild animals may cross path and each of us were on alert mode hoping and wishing that we meet animals. One of us even claimed to have heard an elephant trumpet which I highly doubt as there were no animals at sight. We did saw some monkeys though. Thank Goodness. And as the stretch of wildlife sanctuary ended with a disappointment, the twists and turns of road began with tea plantations and we could feel the temperature dropping as the altitude soared gradually. It was a heavenly sight. Hills covered with tea estates, waterfalls in distant mountains, clean roads, gulmohars welcoming us with bright red flowers and the wind was breezy and cold. I insisted on stopping the vehicle and got down and breath it all in…the landscape, the lush green hills, the road and did a few steps of tango dance too…it was perfection!!

We reached Munnar around 5.30 pm and found the perfect stay at home “Je’s Home Stay” at Devikulam which is located about 10 kms away from Munnar. It was almost dusk so we shoved our luggage and went in search of nearby tea stalls and experience the famous tea of Munnar which to our delight was more than what we expected. We packed dinner from a nearby restaurant and relished at our home stay as we talked and planned for all the adventures we will be unraveling in the next couple of days.

Dancing in the middle of the road

We began the next day by exploring Devikulam, searching for the perfect place to have breakfast in that perfect morning, enjoyed the strong coffee, idlis and paranthas, took a few clicks and got ready to begin the day. We enjoyed the romantic weather with the twists and turns of the road and stopped by at scenic locations, taking pictures, enjoying the green mangoes, coconut water, roasted corn and running eerily in tea gardens striking poses of all sorts. We stood wonderstruck at Mattupetty Dam admiring its majestic beauty and wondering at the huge water body in the middle of the hills, climbed our way to Top Station View point, meandering downward again to reach the spot and stood awestruck at the view of the royal mountains and the lush green scenery that lay beyond us. We then climbed our way up heart-throbbing, feeling our loud heartbeats and legs shaking out of sheer tiredness and felt awesome and energized. Somewhere as we drove along we could smell delicious biryani and had to turn around in search of it. We then return to our home stay as we take rest for a while and prepare for the night’s bonfire with music arranged by our host. We danced our hearts out, laughing at each other’s silly steps and teaching each other, imitating some of the worst dance moves one can ever imagine, sweating it all out…it was a night to remember as we gathered around the last few flames of the dying fire under that star lit sky, the wind playing with us as we talked about life, relationships, love, friendship with frequent laughter in between with the most important people in our lives. Life is good.

The next day we drove back to Bangalore our hearts heavy and in denial of the things that await us at Bangalore. We spent the last 3 days in paradise in the most perfect way possible with people who have become family. Each of us assured in our hearts that we will visit Munnar again and bade adieu to the beautiful hills and the tea gardens.

As for me, I had the best time ever in that romantic weather in the arms of the one I loved, the spiraling road amidst tea estates and a good playlist, surrounded by wonderful friends. What else do I want!! Life is beautiful!!

Sharing some pictures with you guys!! Its tough selecting just a few...I love them all #NoFilter

Waterfall along the way

Click me, click me :D

Climbing our way up - my heart was in my throat

I love bonfires 

Remains after the bonfire

How can you not love this???

Foodie's paradise too!!

Transcending Love!

So there is these bunch of young people who had worked really hard to make a video for me as a surprise wedding gift. I know its immense work and can imagine the research they must have done in facebook, the brainstorming, searching old pictures...trying to tell a story which by the way came out just perfect. Distance doesn't matter when there is love and yes, my soul sister who stayed at Delhi was a part of my wedding through whatsapp video call. Isn't this just amazing!! Words fail me to thank these precious ones who went out of the way to make me feel so special.

You know you are blessed when you have loyal friends who always have your back no matter how hard you fall. I am blessed in countless ways and I am most humbled by all these sweet and heartfelt gestures by people who mean the world to me. Perhaps I have been a good person that I met these wonderful souls in my life!

 I love you all with all my heart. Thank you.....thank you...thank you...for making my life beautiful...for the love...for making me feel special...for everything. What am I without you all! 

Enjoy the video!! XOXO

P.S This happens to be the first video in my blog!! Yippee :D

In case the above video doesn't work, here is the facebook link of the video :)

Click here

Random Thoughts of a Bride

Just how much is too much is one question which we fail to answer when it comes to living upto the standards which has been set by our society. I have become sabbatical when it comes to my career and have taken a 3 months career break coz I have to plan my wedding and be with my parents with whom I have never spent enough time since I decided to leave home for my studies which was more than a decade ago. And yes, I am genuinely amazed at how well I am doing. My fiancé gets mad at me for wasting this precious time worrying about the future and insists on enjoying the little time left at this place which I have called home since my existence. Seriously I am working on it and trying to avoid panic attacks thinking of this career break and making best use of the few weeks before marriage.

So here it is….I am getting married next month to this wonderful soul who taught me more to respect and receive coz he is the most generous person I ever know. As the countdown to the D day begins there are elephants running in my stomach (oh screw the butterflies), will I be able to handle the responsibilities? I am pampered by my Daddy who uses the most beautiful  and flowery words to correct me if I am wrong so that I don’t feel offended unlike my Mom who barge on me for every slightest mistake I make coz she is damn sure that I will screw up at my in-law’s place. The prep has started, my brothers have started painting the gate and walls of our house…which is like mandatory ritual for a Meetei wedding. My relatives keep pouring into our house, my siblings and friends settled thousands of miles away have all flown in to celebrate my wedding, tea and biscuits are constantly served, everyone is excited, scared, nervous, sad, happy and feeling hell lot of emotions right now.

As for me, I am still lost and clueless as to how I am gonna deal or react. Should I be happy that I am getting married to this man who have sworn to love and protect me and with whom I wanna spend the rest of my life with? Should I be worried about my parents who are getting old with their increasing health issues? Should I be sad on the realization that this place I have called home will no longer be what it was? Its tough really. And I feel like I am breaking from inside. Does every bride feel this way?

For a society like us, life before marriage and after marriage are completely different. As an unmarried girl, I have the freedom coz I live with people with whom I have known throughout my life. I get mad and shout at them and cry when I feel hurt and laugh my heart out when we share jokes, I get up early and go for walks and sometimes can even dare to sleep in pretending to be sick in lazy days. I have got out late evenings with my Daddy sometimes even after dark and enjoyed my days doing nothing lazing away. But now somehow I cannot imagine doing all that again. I have responsibilities now to take care of my new family and respect them. It gonna be different and I wish I am not scared as much as I am right now that I am gonna ruin things.

What I truly feel is that amidst all the shopping, picking up dresses, ordering furniture and basic utilities and spending heaps of money after bargaining like crazy with experienced vendors….its a blessing that I am gonna spend the rest of my life with my favourite person who is just perfect. Both of us have waited long enough and have had our shares of heartbreaks before finding each other and now that we have found each other I realized why it never worked out with anyone else.

Marriage is a union of two souls and two families and with the grace of God I wish to embark upon this journey and bring out the best of each other. For now let me think of all the joys I will be unraveling and rejoice on the love I am showered with from my new family and just enjoy all the attention as long as it lasts (wink)

Cheers to a lifetime of love and happiness. 

Loving Life

This is my favourite time of the year. I celebrated my birthday last month with some really precious people in my life. The whole day spent at the majestic Taj amidst lakhs of tourists, jostling with the crowd and finding a vacant spot to pose for pics. Well, this birthday was special in a lot of ways…never have I been treated with so much affection and love on my birthday (lol) and yes, hopefully this will be my last birthday as a single woman coz I tie the knot next year. This year had been amazing and I had varied experience from hitting rock bottom, to feeling heartbroken and vulnerable, to being loved unconditionally, to finally accepting the fact that in parting do we know the depth of love and friendship and yes, finally making the right decision in matters of the heart, putting an end to all the self-created miseries that slowly burnt me away and learning to let go of things that wasn’t meant to be, and yes, believing in love again. How lucky I am to have these mighty hearts that love me unconditionally!! Isn’t it a blessing to realise that there is always that one person who will stand by you even if everyone else have left? I feel blessed and my heart is smiling coz I have these incredible people in my life who never let me down. I am special, yes, may be more because I am chosen to be loved by them inspite of all my flaws. And I am thankful and I swear to make a difference in the lives of people around me and make them feel as blessed as me.

International Women’s Day

I have never really liked the idea of keeping a separate day for women. This is just another reminder that man and woman are not equal and that as long as women continue to feel special on such days there is so much left to be done. It amazes me as to why there is a need for women to seek equality with man. Are we in some kind of competition with man? I guess not. So why do women always feel the pressure to be equal to man...can’t we just pursue excellence? But having cited my opinion, I do realize that there is still a long long long way to go before we stop keeping aside a special day for women…coz for now…there is a need to ensure safety of women and to enjoy her basic rights as a human all across the globe.

I watched the BBC documentary India’s daughter – a must watch for every citizen of this country. I have shared in my facebook page and so did many users but the Govt. have been blocking URLs and sweeping the dirt of our society under the carpet. The Govt. is supposedly running out of ideas to impose ban…the ridiculous beef ban, censoring use of word “lesbian” in movie, banning the movie “50 shades of Grey”  (So those who didn’t intend to watch the movie earlier are downloading it from torrent and watching it! I have read the book anyway), now the documentary is banned. What is with the ostrich mindset of our authorities! Keep your head covered under sand and you think the problem is not there? This is the truth. The sooner we face it, the better. A few months ago, I watched the interview of an actress who talked about the plight of women in India…the dowry deaths, child marriages during her visit abroad and she was slammed by a reporter here in India who accused her of degrading the name of the nation. She proved her point and stated that it is happening…she only said the truth and said that she can’t be a hypocrite and pretend as if all these social evils do not exist. It is a shame that in an attempt to protect the image of the country, the society is degrading day by day. Child Sex Ratio declined from 945 in 1991 to 927 in 2001 to 918 in 2011 (Census Report).

The documentary only shows the obvious sorry state of affairs of the country. Should we feel sorry for the old parents of the rapist who committed suicide? Or should we be shocked at the statement of the wife of the rapist who still can’t believe that her husband will do such an act and even told that if her husband is hanged she has no choice but to kill her son as well as she has no means of survival. The problem is much deeper. In this deeply maligned patriarchal society of ours, woman is subjected to all forms of abuse – physical, emotional, verbal and sexual abuse. I am sure every woman in India has faced atleast one form of abuse. If not abused, there is always this fear...of not feeling safe.

Recently, an office colleague of mine in his early 50s offered to help me get a better position and asked what I would give him if I get selected. Out of courtesy, I replied whatever you want, Sir. He had worked in the North East for some years and I thought he would have wanted something ethnic from my native place. All this while, I have considered him a father figure and was being polite and it all went down the drain when he said “I want you.” Yes, he said “I want you” 3-4 times. So naïve I was that the first time he told me that, I still thought maybe he was referring to my personality…but when he repeated it I was too shocked to react. Later, it dawned on me...his intentions…and no matter how much my friends are supportive of me, I feel guilty. Have I ever given a wrong signal to him? How could he garner the courage to speak like that to me? Why me? Am I too shallow or cheap? Is it the way I dress or that I smile and greet my seniors? I know the fault is not in me. And no, I am not going to play the “North East” card…that coz I am from North East, he thought I am easy. NO. If not me, it would have been some other girl…and who knows how she would have handled. One thing is for sure, nothing is worth it…job, money….nothing is worth such humiliation. So while I deal with this pervert and seek to teach him a lesson soon enough I feel for the millions of woman who have been harassed at homes and at work…whose voices have been silenced. The whole episode keeps repeating in my mind and every time it angers me for I did not give an apt reply that would shut him up. I am lucky that I have close friends whom I can confide to who have gone through the same ordeal. It is a disgrace…how many women must be facing the same emotional turmoil with no one to talk to.  So where should the change begin? Educated fools like the pervert in my office and those shitty lawyers who defend the rapists are grim reminders of how failed the education system is.

Such a fake democracy we have! The statement by our political leaders that the mob lynching of alleged rapists at Dimapur will be dealt with appropriately, made me laugh. Why don’t these morons realize that the public has lost faith in the judicial system and therefore, has taken the law in their own hands.  I have never supported mob lynching but it is better to castrate the rapists and kill them in public rather than see them undergo trials and let imprudent lawyers blame the victim and the trial would go on forever. Social media is filled with comments supporting the mob lynching...such is the frustration of the masses….the plight of women.

I live in the Rape Capital of India. I live in fear. I try to reach home before dark and dress sensibly. And so do many women I know. We live in fear. We do not mind jostling in the ladies’ coach of the metro rather than enjoying some space in the other coaches where men travel. I do not say that all men are the same. Chivalry is not dead. But I cannot risk it. For, someday if I complain of being touched inappropriately, people will blame me for not travelling in the ladies’ coach. This is India and it’s better to be safe than sorry.

And I know that as long as I reach home early coz I feel unsafe to reach after dark and not out of my choice there is a need for International Women’s Day. 

A Walk to Remember :)

The noisy honks and sound of engines engulfed the air. It was getting dark and the moon shone brightly as ever. It must have been the night of the full moon. And there we were, walking in the sidewalks of the busy road hands deep inside our jacket to thwart off the cold. The cold crispy December breeze left a few hairs stranded on my face and I was frantically trying to keep them in place by merely shaking my head coz I did not wanted to take out my hands. Every time we had to cross the road he would grab my hand and bring me closer to him only to let go when we crossed the busy street. We had decided to walk back home. And we still had a few miles to walk.

We didn’t know the directions and kept asking around. The side walk was made of concrete and was a bit elevated from the ground. On the right was a fence, and on the left there were short trees that grew at almost equal distance. The road is just next to the line of trees where the vehicles passed by without even having a glance of the pedestrians. As I walked along, I looked up and saw the moon shining brightly amidst the regular flutter of the leaves. It was so serene, so peaceful. We never stopped talking, we laughed and made fun of each other. He kept pushing me down from the side walk - to the ground in one swift motion without even taking out his hands from the jacket , and I kept falling no matter how much I tried not to. When I tried to push him down, he always managed to get hold of himself. He would stand so firmly that I could not even mange to move him slightly. And he would knock me down so easily just with a gentle push. You see the rule was that both the feet should fall on the ground and not be at the sidewalk…if one feet is still there, its not counted. We laughed so much, my stomach hurted. I told him to stop coz I was on the losing side. He stopped and we started walking again. And then again, I tried to catch him unaware and push him down but he would stand still immediately and I cant even move him. And he laughed and said “Baby, I am too good at this. You can't win by cheating”. I scoffed and after sometime he willingly let me win. We walked our way laughing in that cold night under the moon, the winter wind playing with us and I knew it would take me forever to forget this moment. 

Happy February folks!! :) 

The Sorry State that is Manipur

Source: Google

Yesterday India celebrated her 66^th Republic day with US President Barck Obama gracing the event. I have always felt patriotic on days like Republic Day and Independence Day since my childhood just like many millions of Indians. I used to be glued to our TV set watching Republic day parades and of course waiting patiently for the troops of Manipur. Back at home, kids must be watching it more because Republic day is not only a holiday but a general strike and parents would keep their wards off the streets into the safety of their homes for fear of bomb blasts and gun fires. Yes, never have there been a Republic Day or Independence Day in Manipur with the familiar news of gun fire, ambush or bandhs….it is just so pathetically predictable. Seriously for what? What do you seek? Independence? Are you f***ing kidding me? This year was no different. With reports of bomb blasts in and around Imphal and outfits proudly claiming it as their doing, the tradition is complete…deserted streets and fear! How can violence and fear be an answer to anything? Blame it on AFSPA, blame it on the Government, blame it on Delhi and every other person around…the system but that’s the way it goes! That’s the way things work at Manipur…lobbying, corruption, power and wealth.

I went home for two weeks early this year. My mind freshened; I got to breathe clean air, saw the blue skies, the starry nights, the winds playing with my curtain…so unlike the chaos of Delhi…and I also saw the corruption that went rampant. I was caught for not carrying wearing helmet and the traffic police asked the profession of my father. Such is the sorry state of affairs! Ours is a state based on lies and hypocrisy…you think this will last for long? And when I question about the functioning and the way things work, they say what do you know...you have never stayed here for long. Well, who cares?

I know ten years from now, things will change. The winds of change are finally here. It will take time but surely and steadily hope will remain. We need a generation who believes in this change. And yes, just like a good friend of mine suggested when we discussed about the needs of a good leader in our turmoil torn state that what we really need is not a good leader but a group who can make good leaders, some team who can imbibe the values of a good leader and back him/her with the people. Enough of all the bickering and politics, we need people who can sit together, bring forth ideas and talk and compromise and know his/her stand and that of others. I know deep down everyone is fed up of the violence and the anarchy that have become the image of our state. And yes, I am patriotic, I know my roots so I care. And I know many of my contemporaries care…and they are not okay with living life this way. And I know, they are tired of living away from home and want to come back and that no matter how tainted it is, we still long to be home. My voice will dwindle away for now but soon enough many thoughts like mine will surface up and there will be no turning around.  And what will remain will be peace and excellence….a new identity for us…an identity synonymous with truth and tolerance and development as a society whose realms are based on truth will only rise stronger!!

Peace!!

Loss of Humanity

Photo courtesy: Being Indian facebook page

I was at office when I heard about the terrorist attack at a school at Peshawar. My newsfeed was flooded with reports of the attack – each report increasing the death toll. My eyes welled up on seeing the images of corpses of children being carried, wailing mothers beating their hearts holding the body of their dead children…such horrific images!

When I caught up with the news later it was reported that more than a hundred children have been slaughtered. How could they? These children who went to school in the morning, their parents sending them off with no clue that they will never come back….if they had known that it was the last time they will see their precious ones would they have hugged a little longer, would they have kissed them one last time? How could these mindless fools just walk away after killing an entire classroom? Their hands soiled with the bloods of these innocent children – is this the revenge they wanted? Yet they shamelessly claimed that they did it for revenge…as though it was some achievement. Such are the words of the brainwashed minds trained to believe that such barbaric acts are in the name of religion.

Even as the whole world condemn this act, my heart cant get over with the image of this blood soiled shoe of a little girl. She must have looked like an angel wearing the clean white shoe and now what remains are the remnants of blood and violence as the whole world grieves on the loss of humanity. I pray for you little angel. When children become the victim of violence and abuse, the future of mankind is at stake. We have a huge price to say. Whether it is the Peshawar attack or 26/11 attacks at Mumbai or the recent bomb blasts at Imphal which killed labourers, every act of terror is an act of cowardice. Violence is not the answer to any of your damn problems. Every time humanity loses, we have to remind ourselves that we live in this world so devoid of love. Since when did we lose our conscience in the midst of all these reckless dreams that we chase?

As we express our grief, our prayers and shock over the victims of every life lost in violence, let us make an attempt to make life better for people around us in the least significant way we can. We are so caught up in our own battles inside that we really don’t care that the other person sitting next to you or the person whom you chose to ignore is also fighting as hard as you are. Just a smile or a kind word is all it takes. What we really need is a little bit more love!

Peshawar we grieve with you. May you find the strength to move on. 

Lost and Found

I used to see him every day on my way to office. It has been almost a month. I would hurriedly walk past strangers stealing quick glances at my watch. And there he used to sit under an Ashoka tree on a rugged jute sheet, on what used to be a bag I think. He was an old man with unkempt grey hair, unshaven and his shirt was stitched together in parts. He would neatly put in line a few shoe laces, a leather piece or two; a few bottles of shoe polish and on his side is a radio that hummed old Hindi songs. Often I used to notice him humming along, adjusting his old glasses as he mended a shoe. I would smile and walk past him. Every day he would be in the same spot sometimes too engrossed in his work to notice the passers-by, at times, he would be tuning the channels of the radio or merely looking at strangers jostling away unaware of his existence, his mysterious brown eyes looking far away as though he was thinking of someone.

I am not sure if he knew me or if he realised that I used to slow down my pace as I approached him only to stride faster as I walked past him.  I did not know why…may be he inspired me in ways I can never comprehend, as he cope up with this city just as I was struggling my way through, may be it was sheer respect. I don’t know. I do not know where he came from. I used to see him only in the morning. Is he a thousand miles away from home just as I am? Does he also yearn to be at home? Does he earn enough to support his family? Does he even have a family? I would wonder the few minutes he comes in my life every day and the thoughts would fade away as he disappeared out of sight.

And then the rain came. It had been a rather hot and dry July. My friends had asked if I wanted to go for a movie but I wished to stay back, enjoy the view of the rain from my window as I catch up with the book I am reading. My thoughts drifted away and I remembered the old man and wondered where he might be. I hoped to see him the next day. A new day dawned. As I stepped out of Hauz Khas metro station, it was drizzling. I took out my umbrella and started walking towards my office. I was searching for the old man from a distance, carefully placing my feet so as not to step on the muddy puddle along the pavement, but he was nowhere in sight. The place where he used to sit was empty except for a few wet leaves and twigs that lay nonchalantly. I reached the spot and stood there for a few seconds looking around if he was nearby. He wasn’t there. I left the spot, a hint of disappointment and worry. Is he sick? What happened to him? Will be come again? I brushed aside my thoughts and began my daily ordeal. The next day he didn’t show up again and so did the next and the day after that. He was missing the entire week. I felt uneasy. I just wanted to have an assurance that he was fine. The week ended with no sight of him. I could not believe that I was actually missing him. I felt as though I had lost a friend…a friend whom I had not even said “Hi”.

Monday came and I silently hoped that I would see him. The sky was clear and everything around seemed cleansed by the recent rains. As I walked in the pedestrian pavement I saw from a distance “my” old man arranging his kit, sitting in the same spot and all his tools placed just the way it used to be.  A wide grin plastered on my face and I walked swiftly towards him and stood in front of him. I gasped. He looked up to me. I just smiled and said “Namaste uncle”. He said “Namaste beta”. I just stood there…my happiness profound on seeing him. He raised an eyebrow as if to say “What’s next?” I did not know what next to do or say. Should I tell him that I was worried about him or that I thought I would never see him again? I just stood there not saying a word. Suddenly, I reached my bag and took out my umbrella and gave it to him.

In a surprised tone he said “But its not raining”.

 I just smiled and said “Uncle, please use it when it rains”. He sat there too stunned to say anything.

I took a step back turned around to walk towards my office. A smile played on my lips. My old friend is back in town. And yes, I did say "Hi".

My Rendezvous with Delhi

I have often heard people say “Delhi has its own charm” and for the last two months I am trying to figure out its meaning. I have never stayed in a big city….grew up in a small town and I have spent my entire student life living in the comforts of hostel surrounded by really good friends. It’s a different story now. My career quest has brought me here to this city infamous as the “Rape capital of India”….all the more reasons why my folks are worried sick and keep checking on me. I have my own apprehensions and I am just trying to squeeze myself in…with regular autowalas chanting “Metre kharab hai” to gearing up and shovelling my way through ear plugged indifferent commuters at Rajiv chowk amidst sweat soaked arm pits and frizzy hair of dear aunties. Ah!! Workplace is another heaven. I swear, if a new girl joins our office I will show these wanna-be professionals what it is like to make new friends and make it easier to adjust atleast for her. I have never thought about that guy in F.R.I.E.N.D.S. who told Phoebe that nobody knew he existed in his office…now I totally understand what he must have felt. Lonely and lost.

And oh this is the hardest, finding a room which is clean and safe with the perfect amount of sunlight, enough privacy, cost effective, devoid of nosy and annoying landlords and easily accessible by Metro. After searching for about a month and talking with loud brokers and tempting my patience to the max, the final deal was done with a landlord bent on speaking broken English and a broker who rose his voice every time he has to prove a point, pointing his index finger to everyone he talked to and I had no way but to push his finger way every time its directed to me. I still feel that I can get a better room in that price. Anyway, for now I have to start thinking of ways to make an empty room homely and I know I am gonna love this part except for the expenses.

Inspite of all the hardships and trying times, it’s a delight to savour the sweet taste of independence and freedom that comes along with it, owning my own place and (re) doing it the way I want.  And of course, flaunting it with style by sending pictures to family and close friends and expecting congratulatory notes and praises. It is just so worth it to get soaked in all these attention after all the efforts, time and money I have invested. Now, it’s off my bucket list – to have my own space before 30 and yes, I do feel really good.

I know one careless moment is all it takes to make my heart sink and I despise living top notch all the time but in a city where being rude is a culture I got to be careful. Being friendly, caring, kind and helpful to strangers seems to be the dumbest thing to do around here. Everyone is in a hurry but nobody seems to reach on time. Awful weather, really nasty traffic; narrow, crowded and smelly galis and when the night comes fear lurks in sparing none; news of accidents, murder and rape adorning the newspapers. Of course, these nuances are not the only colour with which Delhi is painted with. On a lighter note, I have to agree that Delhi has its own charm…Window shopping around CP, sitting idly with friends at India gate, savouring different cuisines at Delhi Haat or getting awestruck at the sight of the richness of our culture at Lajpat nagar or Pallika bazaar or chanting “Bheiya, kaam karo na!!” at Sarojini nagar or getting dressed up and lazing away at huge malls…I know I am just a couple of months old and I am yet to explore and learn, get disappointed, amazed and happy in days to come. All geared up to face what this city has to offer coz being tough and strong is what this city teaches you. They say if you have lived at Delhi nobody can mess with you coz you have learnt some valuable life skills which other cities will not offer.

It’s just that…We need to practice being nice. Don’t get fooled but let us not abstain from being kind and compassionate. We seem to have forgotten being humane in all the haste of life.

Sanatombi - A Princess Like No Other

I come from a small state called Manipur surrounded by lush green hills...all the more reason why whenever I see hills, reminds me of home. My mother tongue is Manipuri which I speak fluently although my writing and reading skills have considerably slowed as I have disengaged myself from writing and reading except going through headlines of local newspapers. Now that I stay a thousand miles away from home, I feel all the more reason to upgrade myself on all that information which I have ignored for so long.

In an attempt to explore my Manipur, I recently started digging up literatures related to Manipur and my best friend knowing my fixation, gifted me a book which I have wanted to read for so long “Bor Saheb Ongi Sanatombi” – the story of a Manipuri princess who fell in love with a British political agent in the British era written by renown author M. K. Binodini. 

Its the first time I have read a Manipuri novel. I have heard a lot about this book. Although I struggled to read at the very onset, I gradually gained pace as I got hold of the plots and characters. I could imagine the princely state of Manipur in all its glory as described by the author and its gradual descend as she lost her independence in the hands of the mighty English army. 

“Sanatombi” was a princess who chose to live life in her own terms, who had the courage to question every unfair rule imposed on her unlike other princesses who consented every word of the king; a princess who demanded equal rights like her brother and remained unconvinced that being a girl, she ought to live her life in a way dictated by the society. Perhaps her defiant nature made her special, worthy of a story that will stand the sands of times and cherished by generations to come. The story of a princess who believed that love is more about sacrifice and not merely just about getting married, a love which spontaneously redefined every form of relationship she had. A princess torn apart between her love for her country and her love for this man who had come to conquer her land, a man who was apparently her enemy but who had made her understand love like no one else had.

Even today, Manipuri society is an orthodox patriarchal society and till date a married woman have no right to fall in love again. Even if a woman lost her husband at a young age or if she got separated from her husband, she has to severe all ties with men that will fulfil her physical and emotional needs for fear of her character and modesty being questioned by the society.

Imagine the Manipur of those times, who made love impossible between a Brahmin and a non-Brahmin, a royalty and a commoner and yet even under these threatening conditions, love did happened and love bore the pangs of separation and embraced death silently. Sanatombi saw it all and marvelled these mystical forms of love that made her Maisna decide never to marry again after she realised that her beloved had died. Even after her first marriage, Sanatombi failed to feel such consuming and unfathomable love. Thus, when a married woman like Sanatombi fell in love with a “foreigner”...the speculations and inhibitions she felt was only intelligible. And it was a love she never felt before...a love that brought forth her best and worst times.

Since childhood, Sanatombi was a little rebel and stood against prejudiced rules.  May be this was the reason why her defiant self let her hair down and felt the winds in her hair as she rode her horse proudly alongside her beloved dressed in man’s attire unlike married woman of those times who are supposed to tie their hair in a bun let alone dress like a man. And sure, no one ever looked as beautiful and enticing as her. Such was the charm and solemnity of this princess!!

A few months after her beloved left her with a promise to return for her again, she fell sick and could never really fight back to be herself again. As her frail body lie on her death bed, her mind filled with a thousand memories, in a state of trance, she could constantly hear the faint sound of horse galloping away...sound of her beloved fading away, her life, every step leaving her behind.....just like her father became a blur memory, just like her brother galloped away. And thus, she rested in the protective arms and undying love of her “Sanakhyamashi”. 

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I have heard so much about this book and in an instant, I agreed to all that has ever been written about this book. I have always felt a sense of emptiness after reading a good book. Sanatombi and her love will forever haunt my mind.

Read it to know your roots and history.

Read it to understand love in a better way.

Read it to realise that it takes someone who stood odds to create a fascinating story. 

Crossroads once again

Well, today had been a rough day so I intend to write some not-so-nice things here in my space. People keep seeking advice on which institute to choose for PhD which made me realise why in the first place I joined PhD. Honestly, I had no idea what I was doing. I had a scholarship in hand – UGC JRF – I was proud and thought Chalo, at atleast I have a place where I can keep my feet. I was clueless what I would do after my Masters and sure, I was passionate about teaching and plus, I thought PhD will be less boring if my besties were with me….and sure it was. So, thus, I joined PhD.

You might think why all the fuss among these PhDians…the weirdness, the frustrating posts shared in social networking sites, the annoying remarks, the never ending complaints etc. But hear me out friends, its very frustrating indeed. Somewhere in the late twenties a confused mind enrolls in PhD. Lucky if he is an in-service candidate and lucky if she is married. But for someone like me who is neither of the two and who volunteered to be in these quicksand for atleast 3 years…life becomes slowly messy. Suddenly, I began living my life at the mercy of someone else. On lucky days, I might be praised for my work and on bad days I had to wait and wait and wait…there is always a meeting, some random staff from office will come along and I will have to disappear in the background or I will have to listen to the endless tales of family drama. There were times when I wanted to vanish into thin air or shout my heart out and say “Excuse me, I am still here”. But reality check, I have nothing more that I can do rather than nod my head foolishly and come back to my room only to lock myself up and put on music to the max and clear my mind.

Ah, interestingly, the pretigious UGC declares thousands of students every year to be qualified for JRF which means you get a scholarship of 16K for 1^st and 2^nd year and 18K for 3^rd year. I tell you, every kid who clears the exam shouts with joy, feels proud and keeps everyone updated in facebook. Soon, they realise that the scholarship is on a yearly basis and nobody gives a heck if you are getting it on time or not or hell, if you are even getting…Ok, fine if you give us on a yearly basis than so be it but we have to shed tears and sweat to get it. Every year my friends and I have to go to UGC office at Bahadur Shah zafar Marg (No auto wala knows the place) at Delhi and talk with that annoying and heartless lady and present our case only to chase us away. Then we come back to our University and request our college to kindly sanction our money. And believe me, there is always a problem…if not from our college, it is the Dean PGS or Comptroller office or UGC. It’s a shame how our system works. Especially how they never understand the plight of students. We stay so far away from home and trust me, I never want a dime of their sympathy but I want what is rightfully mine. For moving a file from one table to another in the same room, it takes atleast 3-4 day. What can you expect from an office with starts at 9.30, ends at 5pm with 2 tea-breaks of atleast 30 minutes and an hour lunch break and Gosh, how can they miss the regular dose of gossip and knowing who’s who of the office? Thus, our scholarship is stuck and I have a feeling that it will be stuck for more than a month or so…..the money is in the account of the University and the interest only is enough to financially assist two/three students. And here, we are running around every office asking the progress of paper work which seems to be moving at a snail’s pace. Arrrghhhh!!

And again, there are regular calls from not-so close people (I don’t even wanna say friends) announcing how lucky they are to have a boyfriend who is a doctor/assistant professor/whatever, how rich he is, on how much they are lucky with an anecdote in the end saying don’t worry dear you will also find someone. I just wanna slam my phone and shout shut up, enjoy your perfect sad little diplomatic life and just don’t make me feel bad about myself. But of course, I have to hear the end of it and make an excuse to hang up and for the next few hours nothings gonna make me feel better.

I know my life isnt perfect like many of them and on days like today I have to work harder to feel better but the truth is at the end of the day, I realise how different I am and somehow I feel good that I became the person I am…passionate, impatient, short-tempered, sentimental, someone who follows the heart blah blah….. I am lucky I have parents who always back me up when I feel down and who I can turn to whenever I want. I have people around me willing to walk extra miles for me, remind me what a wonderful person I am although I know at times they are just flattering.  I have to be strong that’s all it matters now coz when you hit rock bottom there’s nothing else you can go except upwards and I know that’s where I am headed!!