WINTER

The sun. So hated for most part of the year when temperatures soar and hot winds do all they can to sap away every bit of energy. So loved in the winters. Such is life. And people who live it. Fickle.

Doe aunty, wrapped in a shawl I had bought for her with my first salary, sat in the garden of our house, on my favorite cane chair, soaking in the Sun. Shanti squatted next to her feet. I had settled in my chair with a PG Wodehouse, my back to them, happily surrounded by people I missed so terribly in Delhi where I was doing MD. I could hear the conversation between Doe Aunty and Shanti. The teacher and the student. Familiar voices. Voices I have been hearing since I don’t know when. The familiar babble made me feel happy as I turned pages of the book in my hand.

Happy…. till I heard the last bit of conversation between the two. My head turned around sharply as my brain registered what my ears were hearing.

Her knitting and Shanti’s English book lay in Doe Aunty’s lap, forgotten. Shanti’s head hung low. Tears were beginning to stream down their faces in a sad unison.

My mum who had just walked in with a plate of hot pakodas and had heard the last bit of conversation too stood rooted to the earth below us. I looked at Mum, she looked heart broken. Angry. Shocked. Furious. Sad. Heart broken.

Doe aunty and Mum are best friends.

Doe Aunty was fingering burn marks on Shanti’s left wrist. Right next to the kalawa, a bit of yellow thread Hindu priests tie around the wrist of worshippers; it protects from the evil. My eyes travelled from Shanti’s wrist marks to Doe Aunty’s swollen eye, my mouth remained open and my throat felt dry. It just made so much sense now. Why had I not seen it?

I felt angry. At myself.

“Oh! That’s nothing, beta! I fell. When you finish your MD you can take care of all my cuts and bruises!”, she had laughed when Mum and I had expressed immediate concern at
her swollen eye earlier in the day.

“Doe Aunty, you fall so often !! You just have to be more careful”, I had exclaimed, pained at the sight of her eye.

“Its not for nothing my husband calls me butter feet”, Doe Aunty had chirped.

The two women in front of me could not have been more different. One educated. One illiterate. One rich. One poor. One an upper caste Brahmin. One an untouchable. Yet .
Yet.

Shanti was our domestic help with an insatiable desire to study. Doe Aunty was Mum’s best friend, a professor at the most prestigious university in the city with an insatiable desire to teach. Doe Aunty would come home often and each time she came she would spend some time with Shanti. Over the years an inexplicable friendship had developed between the two.

That day’s lesson was to be a typical one. Shanti read out passages from an English book Doe Aunty had brought with herself. As Shanti turned pages, Doe Aunty eyes fell on the scars on Shanti’s wrist

“So you have been cooking carelessly again?”, asked Doe Aunty. Shanti often had these marks and when asked she always said that she had burnt herself cooking.

“Just as you have been falling again”, replied Shanti quietly.

Shanti’s tone first made me sit upright and turn my head. It made my heart skip a beat.
In a bad way. In a way that someone had finally said what my heart knew to be right all along. I turned to face the two.

The two women looked at each other and continued to do so for sometime. I don’t know what passed between the two, but I know that a lot did in the next few seconds. Their eyes watered. Mine did with theirs.

“I don’t know which is worse. When Munna gets his friends along or when he comes drunk” said Shanti quietly. I stood aghast. Munna was shanti’s step dad. Step dad 2 years older to her.

I have known Shanti since she was a 5 year old girl who would come to our house with her mother. Shanti’s dad, a petty thief and a drunkard, left his family some ten years ago. Shanti’s Mum married a man 20 years younger to herself, also a drunkard and a petty thief some 3 years ago.

I could not recall seeing the cut marks on her wrist before that time, my brain sadly registered.

“We don’t have a door. There is just a flimsy curtain. His friends sit outside puff at their bidis and make crude jokes. I cry the whole time”, Shanti said, shaking her head sadly, “ Munna gets cigaretts. He burns my hands with them”.

My eyes wandered to her wrist. Some marks were new. Some old. I cringed at the sight.
“ He hurts me so much that I cry for hours after he leaves. ”
Shanti now stopped speaking. She was looking at Doe Aunty. It was Doe Aunty’s turn to speak. I sensed my Mum stiffen. Doe Aunty did not speak. Her head hung low. Tears chased one another down her fair cheeks.

All was quiet. I could hear Mum’s heavy breathing.

“Vijay Saheb?” asked shanti, referring to Doe Aunty’s husband.

Doe Aunty kept her head low. Mum gasped.

“I don’t know if I can survive it any longer. He hit me here because his tea was too hot”, Doe Aunty broke down pointing to her eyes.

Doe Aunty’s story then came tumbling out. It started with a push during an argument that happened when their last attempt at IVF failed. The next argument ended with Vijay uncle slapping Doe Aunty and the apologizing profusely for his misbehavior. Things just went down hill after that. He would hit her if he felt she had been overfriendly with some male colleague , if she came home late, if she overcooked food, if the house was untidy when he came from office- all the time maintaining the façade of being a happy albeit childless couple infront of family and friends.
Even her best friend.

As the façade that was Doe Aunty’s marriage broke into a million sad little pieces in front my eyes, my Mum took a decision. She went up to Doe Aunty. Placed a hand on her shoulders.

“I am calling the police”, she said simply, “and registering a complaint against Vijay.”

“…and Munna”, my Mum added as an after thought.

With that my Mum turned around and walked to the phone. I followed her into another room. Shanti and Doe Aunty stood where they were, stunned. We did not even switch on the light.

“Mom! What are you doing!”, I screamed at my Mum.

“I am doing what is right. I am doing what should have been done many many months ago!”

“Okay, Mom! Relax, we need to think it through! Please”, I pleaded.
Mom turned to face me.

“Whats your problem!!! You haven’t seen Doe regularly since you left for your MBBS! For Gossake! She was even at the hospital 4 months back. She said she had met with an accident!! Who gets those kind of injuries in an accident! That bastard!”, my mum screamed at me.

“Ok Mum, I am not contesting that. Doe Aunty has herself spoken about Vijay Uncle. What do you intend to tell the police, that’s all that I want to discuss”, I tried to reason with her.

“I am going to tell them about Vijay. Tell them how Doe has just said that she has been physically abused by that man! Get her a divorce! Doe earns enough to keep a family of ten! She has her own house, is financially secure, her parents are very open minded….”, my Mum said simply.

“And what about Shanti?”, I asked.

“Well….I don’t know about her. To turn her step father in would be unthinkable for her. In the society she lives in women are much lower than men. Accepting the fact that she has been raped repeatedly is not a great idea….she will never get married if she does that. People around her wont speak to her. And she knows this, beta. Her mother will throw her out. She will be branded a slut if this gets out! She will not get any work. She will destroy everything for herself”, said Mum exasperated.

“You will not even tell the police about Munna???”, I asked.

“No, I don’t think so”, replied Mum, “ there is no point, it will get her into more trouble”

“Her mother needs to know, Mum!!”, I screamed.

“What makes you think she does not already?!”, said my mum calmly.

“Mum! So we just let her be raped by that man!” I screamed.

“ You tell the police and trust me that girl wont even open her mouth infront of the police! I know these people!!! Do what you want!”, my Mum screamed.
We were both hysterical. We were both screaming. I had not realized this but I had angry tears in my eyes. So did Mum.

With each passing second I was getting more and more hysterical. I was about to turn around and go to Shanti to speak to her again. In my head she deserved a chance. After all she was the one who spoke about Munna first. It takes guts to speak out!

By this time, Mum was already speaking to the police officer.

“Thank you officer”, she was saying, “that’s all.” I had not heard Shanti’s name mentioned.

I had to do something. Time was slipping. I had to make up my mind.

“Give her a chance!!”, a voice in my heart screamed.

“Don’t be a fool! Mum is right!”, a voice in my brain screamed.

I snatched the phone from Mum’s hand.

“Hello, officer, this is Dr. Ruhi Chawla, MD”, I don’t know why I added a degree to my name I had not yet received.

“My maid, shanti, would like to make an official complaint against her step father who has been raping her for many months now”, I said. It felt weird to use the word ‘rape’ in front of a man I did not know.

“Yes, Ma’am. Name of the accused?”, the officer asked.

“Mumma”.

“Your maid’s name , Ma’am”

“Shanti”.

“I believe there has been another complaint against a Mr. Vijay Khandelwal from this number?”

“Yes”

“Are both Mrs. Divyani Khandelwal and Ms Shanti at your place right now?”

“Yes, they are”

“In that case my officers will be there in the next few minutes Ma’am. We need to file an F.I.R as soon as we can”

“Sure”

“I have your address Ma’am, I will see you in a few minutes”.

I put the phone down. I looked up at Mom. I had not dared look at her while I was speaking, lest my courage gave way.

“You will make a fool of yourself with the shanti thing”, she said and walked off. At the back of my head I knew that to be true. She had too much to loose, poor thing. But to sleep peacefully at night I needed to atleast try. It suddenly seemed like a selfish thing to do. My head started aching.

By the end of fifteen minutes there were 4-5 police officers in our house. In one room sat Doe Aunty. Her face like stone. Mum was sitting next to her. Comforting her.

“Doe, darling, don’t worry. You are absolutely strong and independent. You have a great career! You will be fine. You need to get away from that man! Now!”, said Mum passionately.

Doe aunty did not say a word as the police officer stepped in.

In the other room sat shanti. Squatting on the floor, like she always did, hugging her knees. Twiddling with her plait. Nervous. Her big black eyes darting here and there.
She looked like a captive animal. I felt nervous. Mum had not been speaking to me since I had spoken with the officer.

I was in the lobby. In rooms on either side interrogation were going on. I could not believe this was actually happening.

"Mrs. Divyani Khandelwal, do you accuse your husband, Mr Vijay Khandelwal of physical abuse?”, asked the police officer, already looking at the next question he was about to ask about the form of abuse.

“Ms Shanti do you accuse your step father, Munna, of raping you?, asked the officer, smirking. He had seen too many such girls. He knew what the answer would be.

“No”, said Doe Aunty. Shamefully. Head hung low. Mum gasped.

“Yes”, said Shanti. Shamefully. Head hung low. I gasped.

Red Light District, Amsterdam

Yes. That’s what I visited on my trip to Amsterdam this weekend.

Apparently, it is one of the top tourist attractions of Amsterdam and while I was reluctant and quite disgusted at the idea of going there, I finally did find myself there.

Situated pretty much in the heart of the city, there are huge buildings with big windows. Each window has a red light next to it. The women dress in skimpy clothes (= absolute bare minimum) and they stand in the window striking up seductive poses, passing commnents to men going by asking them to come in. They do this from behind the glass door of the window and are quite safe.

The lanes are absolutely clean but quite narrow. While there were a couple of places where I was the only woman outside of the window, I saw a lot of tour guides, couples, tourists and even families with children there.

However, one of the most disturbing sights was when I peeped inside one of these windows. Each window leads to a small room which was well equipped with a bed (that more often than not had a tiger print bed cover thrown on it) and sink, and loads of other very suspicious looking things lined near the sink. That was the one sight that I found most disturbing.

It was interesting to see the red light near each window. Once the negotiation between the men and the prostitutes is done, the men are asked to come in. After that the curtain in pulled and the red light switched on. Almost like the operation theatre. Red light On! And also, that is also how the Red light districts get their name.

At the expense of objectifying women , I saw women there of each shape and size and color! Some women would dance in their little windows, some would smile invitingly (?) while others would talk on the phone ( and look absolutely like they were gossiping).

Interestingly, a lot of them looked thoroughly bored.

Prostitution, like a lot of other things, is legal in Amsterdam ( the prostitutes, I hear pay tax on this as well). The women were treating it just like another profession. I even saw a man come drop off a woman, who then hurried inside.
I was wondering about one thing, though. Unlike in India and in most other parts of the world, prostitution is a profession that women do not like to be associated with. In many cases, husbands, boy friends are not aware.
Here, however, unfortunately, Prostituion is a tourist attraction. How would a woman’s life be if her family knows what she is upto.

We were discussing how some of these women would have gotten into the profession by force. And while I can understand how that would be the case in many parts of the world, seeing those women, in the windows, playing on their expensive phones, I did not really think that that was the case here in Amsterdam.

Amsterdam has coffee houses where people go for space cakes and joints, prostitution is a tourist attraction, tees are sold that say things like , ‘Good girls to heaven, Bad girls come to Amsterdam’.

Ahem.

Hi,

I wonder, and for once I desperately need answers from you, if it is bad to be good.

With it being all cool and in to be into drinking, sleeping around, having good guy friends with whom you share rooms……is it normal to not do any of this?

Do you need to give yourself a shake? Why do I just totally completely dislike it and why do I increasingly find myself around people who are steeped into all this?

Why do I find it so difficult to smile when people brag about their love bites? Why do I find it difficult to nod my head when people make plans to check out the I know I am different. I know I do not do this and do not like it but then why…I don’t even know what I want to say.

I am not an angel form the heavens above but I have lived by the book and I know every one has the right to live their lives the way they want to but so many people who are like us have been up to no good so very often (as I have found out recently) that I really have absolutely no faith….in what I do not know…… I just wish…I don’t even know how to put that into words…….

Just that I wish I could go back to time when I was 10, with my parents and the most scandalous thing I could have done was to pick up a Sidney Sheldon.

I probably need to distance myself from a lot of things. I just want to be on a break Just go home, to my Mum, Dad and Bhai or be just with Sid. Be with the people who accept me the way I am…without any dopes/ joints/ alcohol/ sleeping around/ ex boyfriends…..

Such is life.

Bhai

So we went on a trip to an excruciatingly beautiful place called Interlaken, Switzerland.
We travelled across the length and breath of the country in the Swiss rail and this little incident that I am now talking about happened while we were in the train.

So Sid stood near the loo waiting for the lady inside to come out. There was an empty near by and he sat down there and from what I gather started talking to the Sri Lankan guy sitting next to him.

After some time, when he came out of the loo, I had also found my way there. Once Sid came out, we started talking and in the mean time, another lady went in.

Sid left and I too after standing for some time sat on the same seat Sid had found sometime back.

And like him I also struck up a conversation with the Sri Lankan.

After talking about this and that, the Sri Lankan guy said, “ So which country are you from”
“India, that’s your neighbour!”
“Yes, my family is still in Sri Lanka”
“That’s very nice. Most of my family is with me in this train”, I said smiling.
“Oh..yes yes talking about your family, I must say that your brother is a very very friendly man”, he said talking about my husband of 10 months.
Hmm… I thought.
“Does he look like my elder brother or younger?”, I asked with my fingers crossed.
“Elder”, he thankfully replied.

I breathed easy again. Unknown to himself, the Sri Lankan had just redeemed himself.

Hi,

My folks have gone back now and my tiny one bed apartment seems too big for two people.

While it was very difficult to see them go last evening, the worst bit was when I came back to a quiet house, with no extra suitcases lying around.

There was still a lot of food in the kitchen which mum had made for me. That made me cry harder.

I was actually surprised at how bad I felt coming back home from the airport last night.

However, my consolation was the fact that folks had a nice trip which hopefully they will think of smiling for a long time.

We went for a lovely 4 day trip to Switzerland which my folks enjoyed to the hilt. We went atop breathtakingly beautiful snow covered mountains, inside mountains with fountains, saw a number of beautiful swiss villages, travelled across the length and breath of Switzerland covering Lucerne, Interlaken and Zurich.

Another thing I am very glad about was the fact that this was the first trip I took my husband and parents for. And I am glad it could be Switzerland. I always knew I wanted my parents to visit me soon after I came to London. While job hunting I used to so desparately wish that I earn when they come and take them on a holiday myself.

Also, a lot of gifts to Sid were pending. I hope this trip makes up for atleast some of them!

And yes, London seems positively ugly after Switzerland.

Love
RP

Picture Talkies!

Talking about pictures in my last post brings me to another office story.

I deal with a huge amount of numbers and when I was really new to the whole system I would get very frustrated at times. It was one such day when, hot in the head and totally frustrated with the numbers that would not match, I walked out of office to get a breather. Wile waiting for the lift, I met a guy from office who casually asked me how I was doing.
Frustrated, I told him I was not good at all!
He wanted to know why I was so frustrated to which I told him how frustrating numbers can be when they do not match and how I just getting very very bugged with the whole system.

We spoke for a few minutes casually about this and that when I reached my foor. I went got myself something to eat for lunch and came back into office some 30 minutes later.

I had just settled into my chair when the same office guy came to my desk with a paper in hand.

He handed it to me.

I turned it face upwards to see a picture of a door. The walls were a nice shade of blue. I remembered the picture from somewhere, however.

“ Where have I seen it before?”, I asked him a little stupidly

He pointed his finger to his desk. It was there, pinned right next to his lap top.

I remembered how I had spent a couple of minutes looking at the picture the first day I had come into office. I ahd wondered why it was there?

“And what is this?”, I asked him.

“ When ever you feel stressed, just look at this picture. Try imagining all the good things that could be inside the door!”, he said.

I had never spoken to this guy before, I was very new to office and he had taken all the pains of getting a coloured print out for me to hopefully de-stress me!

I thanked him profusely for the kind gesture. I am attaching the pic for your reference. I sadly get no comfort from the pic and I cannot even try to imagin what good might be inside the door. It looks quite dingy and dark to me as if nothing good could be inside. However it still stays where I sit, because it was a very kind gesture.

House Warming

We went to a place called Lake distrcit last week end. While the trip was very nice and the place very very beautiful, this is one pic that i absolutely love.

I feel all warm inside when i look at this pic- as if all is good with me and the world.

Do you look at this and feel a sense of calm or is it just me ??

British Ways

So I have now been in the land of the Queen for almost 8 long months and consider myself something of an authority on all things British.

Ok I do not.

But there are certain things that I have noticed here that are unmistakably different from us back home.

A reader of my blog who very interestingly calls herself/ himself SJ asked me once by way of a comment about the manners of the Brits. Hence the post!

1. You make a big show of keeping the door ajar for the person walking behind you. – Be it office or a tiny gate outside your building apartment when you open a door and before you shut it , you look back and in case you see anyone within some 100 miles who might walk through that gate you hold it open, or keep a restaining palm on the door signifying how much you want to keep the door open. It is polite. Everyone does it here and no matter how useless the whole practice might be, very soon you will find yourself doing the same.
2. Pehle Aap!- This happens in the tube when two people move towards the lone empty seat. Both will use their hands and expressions to say, “ Ma’am/ Sir please go ahead and take the seat. Kind Regards XYZ”. This will go one for some seconds when someone will finally take the seat. If it’s a man and a woman, the woman will ultimately take the seat, if they are people of the same gender, the older one will take the seat. I fins this in contrast to the way we rush to take seats and giving it up is something we cannot even consider.

3. In the defense of my des waalas, the Brits here are not travelling in a rickety bus with the outside temp at a mere 50 degrees C and no AC in the bus! If that were the case, British politeness might have been different. However, to be fair, it might have still been the same, in which case, due respect!

4. Love/ Darling: the older lot, the grannies and the grand dads will often refer to you as ‘Love’. For example you are standing in the middle of a narrow aisle and are lost in thoughts, chewing gum and vaguely thinking that the gum has a very revolting taste. Suddenly you hear a soft , “Excuse me, love”. You turn around wondering why your husband has a funny voice now and come face to face with a white haired lady in a skirt and cardigans. You smile and give her way.

5. The way they greet you on the phone- the way someone here will greet you will be more affectioinate than how your mum will greet you when you go back to apna des after 10 years. The receptionist at the Parlour will sound more excited about talking to you at 9 in the morning than you will ever be to talk to the love of your life!

So much for the time being. More later!

Good News

When I got a job here in London in June, I was told that I would be on a temporary offer for the first six months. They were to take a call at the end of that time period. They said it would be enough time for both of us, the company and myself to decide whether or not I wanted to stay here.

Today, less than 2 months into my role, my boss asked me if I would be happy to accept a permanent offer from the company.

I was taken aback- we had been discussing her marriage and her question came out of the blue! I, ofcourse said a yes and as she explained some intricate thing to me on Webex, I was busy messaging Sid the good news.

That is one worry off my head. I had never expected that this would happen so quick! My bosses seem really happy with what I am doing. I honestly think I am do a miserable job here at times. So I do not know what is working, but am glad that it is!:)

I just wanted to share this bit of good news with you guys!

Sleep Tight:)

Love
RP

Hi

I was travelling by the DLR- it’s a kind of overground tube that runs in my part of London when I saw her

Of African origin, with a sparkling skin. Very tall, with the longest legs possible. Very well turned out- with perfect nails, dress, shoes , hair. She was wearing huge fashionable shades. Hair pulled back in a very in hairstyle that suited her well. Black 6 inch heels. Black glittering bag.

She seemed so confident, well to do and successful. A little arrogant perhaps. A little intimidating, maybe. The perfect work woman.

I looked at her with envy as I chatted with Ma catching up on her day. I wondered why I can never look like that. I can look sweet at best- never this kind of Oh My God.

Mummy said something and I laughed. As I laughed I stole a glance at her again- just curious to check out her watch. That’s when I saw them.

Big Fat tears. Rolling down her cheeks from under her shades.

She hurriedly wiped them off with a tissue she clutched tightly in her hands. With the tears removed, she went back to looking like she belonged to a near perfect life.

A few seconds later some more escaped from beneath her shades.

That made me think how often we think how perfect the life of XYZ person is and have no idea what actually is going on.

And brought back to my head a hymn I learnt way back in school:

Count your blessings
And name them one by one
And you will be surprised to see
What the Lord has done.

How true!!

Sleep Tight.
Love
RP

30th day from now!

Ok. So what is so special about the 30th day from now?

On the 30th day from now , by this time, my folks would have landed at Heathrow!

Yes! Yes!!!!Yessss!!YESSSSSS!!

They are coming to London!!!!!!

*jubilant victory dance*

For 2 whole weeks!!

*another jubilant dance!*

Their visa is done and tickets have been booked! I have applied for leave from work which has been accepted(yeaay!) , I know when I am going to fall ill- so sick leave has been decided as well!!

We have applied for schenegan visa so lets see if that can happen!

I am so so excited about Mum and Dad coming to London. My Dad is well travelled across Europe but Mum has not been abroad before. I am just so excited. I have so many plans for them. Musicals, walks, shopping, Buckingham palace, Trafalgar square, hyde park, picadilly circus and may be just maybe , if we are not too late already, then Switzerland as well!
Sid has been such a sweetheart getting all the paper work done for my folks. It just warms
my heart to the core when he does all this.

I just hope all works fine and they have a lovely trip here!

Btw, did I say “Yeaaaayyyyyyyy!!!”

Love
RP

Goals


Hi,

I always start finding my life meaningless if I do not have atleast one major goal. Also, that goal cannot be any goal- it has to be a particular type of goal.
Till I was studying, it was simple- all my goals were academic. In engg college I wanted to be rank one and in B school I wanted to get just one medal. When I started working, goal was to get more than 730 in GMAT, then it was to get about 110 in Toefl and so on…..The common thing about these goals is that just thinking about them would give me the goose bumps. It would be something I could think about for hours. It would be the motivation that would make me put in that extra hour, it would be the madness that would make me mug up even though it was an open book exam. It was what made saying NO to that movie very easy.

My biggest problem with work is that I have not been able to find such a goal. Day to day tasks are not what I call proper goals. Every one does them. I make sure I do them well enough- I ensure that my bosses ( I have two and both are Australians! ) are happy with me ( which there are TW) but what lacks is a big goal.

Of late I think I have managed to find a couple for myself.

One is very big and very ambitious. I have never attempted such a thing before and I have no clue if I will be able to achieve it- I have started working towards it and am very keen to see if I have the capability to accomplish such a thing. It requires a lot of patience and hard work. I am more than ready to put that in- only thing is I hope that some good comes out of the hours I am putting into it even after working and managing the household without any help here.

The other one is related to work. Again ambitious, but not very. Its just something I am keen to see if I will be able to do. There is little in my hands here apart from doing my best and that is exactly what I am going to do.

The third is related to academics. I have been thinking about these great colleges you have in the UK. It would be an absolute shame to live for sometime in the UK and not have some experience with them. No, I am not going to target any big course- I am don’t with PhD attempts and with 7 months of work ex stand no chance of getting through another management programme. However there is something else that I have my eye on. I wanted to do it this year but since I had to start work, I knew it was not technically possible. So that is something I am looking at doing next year around this time.

Let see how many of these I achieve. May be I will achieve none….I don’t know….no harm in trying anyways, right?:)

Ma and Mummy

You know how it is after you get married. Things change. You leave behind some people , you starting valuing some much more than you ever did before, you meet some others.

Which brings me to a set of people I have never mentioned on my blog.

The inlaws.

I have been married for almost 8 months now and on the basis on my experience so far can thankfully say that I have been very very lucky.

My Mom in law is a house wife and a very nice lady. I speak to her almost each day but never in these 8 months has she ever said even one word that has hurt me any which way. And trust me that is really a very big thing. She is exceptionally beautiful, slim and very fair with lovely delicate features. Most interestingly, she is very broad minded.
One of the first things she told me when I came into the house as a brand new bride was this:

“People tell us Indian women to treat our husbands like Gods. Treat yours like one if he first begins to behave like one!”

I remember laughing like mad at this.

I have spent a couple of days with her when my husband was not at home. If I would get up anytime before 8 she would be horrified. She would insist that I sleep till atleast 9.

One of her neighbours warned her to not behave like this with me. Mom in law got really angry.

Very indignantly she told her friend that when my sis in law comes over, she sleeps for as long as she wants so why should not I do the same.

She is very different from my own mother. I mean both are nice women- genuinely kind and loving but of course they are different.

So suddenly, the day after I got married- I was the proud owner of two mothers- Ma, my mother and Mummy- Sid’s mom.

They get along well. Touch wood.

Yesterday they spent a whole day together and were planning to go watch ‘I have love storys’ together. That got me thinking. How different it would have been if my parents had some issues with my in laws. Had my laws been the mean kinds who taunt the daughter in law about the watch that the bride’s family did not give as part of gifts at the wedding.

And no, do no think all this does not happen now a days. It very much does. I know first hand that it does. I don’t know how I would deal with that.

So here is pic of Ma and Mummy. This pic was taken during my sangeet.

As usual I am missing Ma a lot but a regular reader of my blog will know that there is nothing new about that.




Sigh.
Love RP

The Heights!

At five feet 2 I am quite tiny. My boss, a ten feet tall Australian is a strapping old man.


Today, he took long to offer me a chair even though I was standing because he thought that I was sitting.

:\

Identity

I have tried my level best to protect my anonymity on this blog for the last 5 years.

But now I wonder.

I wonder whether I should continue to be anonymous or should I be the person I am in real life.

Do my readers need to know who I am?

Would it matter in any which way?

Has Ram Pyaari lived long enough? Should the real me take her place?

What would be the pluses of being myself?

And more importantly what would be the minuses?

It does not seem fair. I am NOT RP. That is not me. We are the same person but I am not RP.

As you can see I am thinking about not remaing anonymous on this blog. My Mother thinks I should disclose my real identity on the blog but I am divided. The comfort of anonymity is wonderful. Part of me does not want to let it go. I cannot decide but it is something I have been thinking about for sometime now!

Let me know what you think.

Love
RP

Paintings :)

Two step process for this one. Am not happy with it but posting it nevertheless.

Step 1

Simple sketch:




Step 2:



This painting is actually inspired from the paintings of my grandfather-who is ofcourse atleast a million times better than I am.

Regards
RP

5 years

http://smilethesmile.blogspot.com/2005_06_01_archive.html

This was exactly 5 years ago.

I was then in 2nd year engg.So much has happened since then. I finished Engg, got 2 job offers, got thru a decent b school, left home, did MBA, finished MBA, got a job, started working for the first time, got married, moved to another country, started work again.

Almost everything has changed in the last 5 years.

Some things have not.

One of them is you. So thank you and a very very happy 5th birthday.

As my readers, a know a lot of visit regularly who do not leave a comment- as a gift to my blog, leave a comment- I want to know who you are. Just say hi.

Love

RP

Post 17

Ma

I have been lucky enough to receive unadulterated, unquestioned love from my mother. She is the centre of my world.

Today I was lying down when I suddenly recalled the few days at home when I was working in India. I had fallen very sick and sid was due in a few days to come pick me up. I was kind of happy to fall ill- be pampered one last time before I left her. All about how she took care of me, how concerned she was and how just being around her felt so nice- all of this came back to me.

Sometimes, now, when I think about how she used to be worried about every little thing about me , it brings me close to tears. I survived the whole of today on two breads. Maybe when you are hungry the whole world seems more mean than it actually is. But I kept thinking about her.

How she made life so easy for me in India, how both my Mom and dad would ensure that I was picked and dropped each day to work. How she would be concerned if I seemed even a little upset and how far away she is from me now.

The sheer physical distance.

How tough it is to be away from people you love. From the one person you love the most.

Post 16
Best Holiday ever!

So its been almost 4 long weeks since I started working. So it is high time that I start dreaming of holidays.

Because of work and the fact that I am now quite busy, I often find myself thinking of the best holiday I have ever had.

We went to the Maldives for our honeymoon. It was by far the best holiday I have ever had. We stayed one the Taj hotels and chose one that was far far away from the main city of Mahe. The place for very beautiful- breath takingly so. I was newly married. After that holiday I was to go back to my folks for atleast a month which ensured that I did not feel senti about leaving my folks and all that.

We took a water villa. The steps would lead out into the sea the water of which was so very clear that you could see everything on the sea bed and the fishes deep down (not that the water was very deep)

It was here that we spent hours in the water- snorkeling with the fish, checking out the corals- it was just fantastic.

Here is a pic of the sea and the water villa stairs.




Another one :




I loved the blue and the green. The staff was very nice, they spoke kindly to us, helped us whenever they could and tried their best to ensure that we have a good holiday.
The food was excellent and one of the reasons why we chose Taj was because Taj is a company of Indian origin we would have some vegetarian options as well. I still remember the tiramisu- you had to eat it to believe it!

I made friends with some other honeymooning couples as well. Sat in an underwater submarine, tried out my hand at water sports, swam with the fishes, had a beach candle lit dinner, ate pizza baked in front of my eyes, ran in the sand, played with the water- was treated like a princes!

What’s your favourite holiday?
Love
RP

Post 15

Second!
For all that it is worth I got a second job offer today. You remember the internship I was doing before I got this job offer (http://smilethesmile.blogspot.com/2010/04/job-hunt-i-have-been-avoiding-writing.html ) , well the Europe president mailed me today.

He has asked me to come back to them, this time for a permanent role with a proper salary. Point to be noted is that when I was working with him and asked him if there were any chances of getting a permanent role ( I was desparate for a job) he had told me that the two of us will discuss it after I would have worked with them for 6 months. I had agreed to it.

It has been a month since I left the internship.

I will refuse. For a variety of reasons.

1st My current work place is like 20 minutes from where I live. The internship work place is about 2 hours of travelling in 3 trains and a bus and some walking. That for me is a deal breaker actually!

2nd the role that I am doing right now might not have tremendous growth potential but is a decent one for the time being. Though on paper the role is bigger at the internship- I am still not very convinced

3rd added to point 2 my current job is with a MUCH bigger company!

4th I have spent almost 4 weeks of intense self motivated learning. Now is when I am getting the hang of things! I honestly do not want to let go of this profile right now

5th I had a sales and marketing managerial role in India. With due respect to all the sales managers in the world( I am married to one as well), I never really felt that that role used my brain. Here I am doing complex analysis and if I can find enough enthusiasm, people are very willing to let me take up even more challenging roles

6th My husband works in the same company. Though this seemed like a problem in the very beginning, I don’t mind it now – infact even like it. Its good to get a glimpse of the other one. I don’t really feel alone ever. I know he is there to take of things even though I also know that my stuff is my stuff and his is his.

7th I do not believe my internship people will give me as big a salary as I am getting here. And for all it is worth- money does matter.

So that is it. I am not joining. I am going to say no to a job offer. Do you know whats the coolest thing about this. I spent 5 months believing that this day will never come (http://smilethesmile.blogspot.com/2010/03/maybe-that-day-will-never-come.html ). And that is exactly why they tell you to never say never!

Love

RP

Post 14

Tickets booked!

So, we have booked tickets to go to the A R Rahman music concert in London on the 24th of July 2010. I am not a big music fan but I really love it when Rahman’s music falls on my ears!

I am very very excited about the show! This is going to be my first proper concert!! Yeaaaayyyyy!

Other AR Rahman fans can feel as jealous as they deem fit!

Love
RP

Post 13

Grief

I went home for the first time after coming to London in May. I had been in London for 4 months by then and I had just found a job. The first thing I did when I got my job was to book tickets to India. However, even though I went to India just one month back, I am already very homesick.

Anyways, that is besides the point. I am now going to talk of just one aspect about the India trip- the time I was leaving my home to go and spend a day with my in laws before taking the flight back to London.

I have never left my parents and not cried. That’s not me. Each time I left for B school I cried like crazy in the train. This time was no different.

No, it was. I cannot put in words the amount of grief I felt as the train moved out of the platform. It was such immense grief, such unadulterated grief that it hit me like a rock. I did not even realize it but there I was standing next to my berth and crying so bitterly without a care of who was looking.Crying with sobs and with big fat tears streaming down my face. I don’t know for how long I stood there crying. Then I felt a hand on my shoulder. A kind looking aunty asked me if all was ok.

I hurriedly wiped my tears, nodded a weak smile at her and climbed into m y berth and drew the curtains. And burst into tears again.

The grief was a physical pain. I just could not bear the thought of going away from them. I started finding it difficult to breathe and found myself totally unable to stop my tears. I had Twilight in my hands, and some pages are still soiled because of my big fat tears that fell on the pages of the open book.

I have never felt such immense grief. I am an emotional girl but I am reasonably sensible. I have not forgotten how it felt to leave my folks once again to go live in a foreign country. Leave the comforts of familiarity for the discomfort of things new and still alien.

If you are a girl who is not married, I have this to say to you : I love my husband. My in laws treat me like their daughter and my MIL will not stop gushing about how perfect her Daughter in law is. Yet. There is nothing like home. Nothing like your own Ma and your own dad. No matter how modern your thinking is, a part of you does get divided once you get married. You are part of two families. So all you unmarried girls- you belong 100% to your mum and dad. Please love them. Please cherish each moment you have with them. Please.

Day 12

Of a Very Special Day

I did MBA from one of the top 10 Bschools in India. That was the first time I moved out of my city. I went there very scared – I had heard enough stories of how cut throat the competition was, how you got to sleep for only 4-3 hours in one day and how tough it was to give all the exams and presentations etc etc.

I finished MBA in the March of 2009. I did so with tremendous lessons in life. And three gold medals. With 3 out of the 4 medals awarded that day. With all three academic ones open for the grab that day.

That day- the convocation - was undoubtedly the proudest moment in my life and I doubt if there will be one that will out do this one. I was rank one in engg also but I was never awarded a gold medal in front of sooo many people. So this was bigger and more special.

My brother had promised me that he will take leave from his med school (where leaves were very scarce) and attend my convocation if I were getting one medal. So, on that fine day, my brother came from his med school, my parents from my home city and Sid came from London to be with me on my very special day. Every one who mattered was there and that really mattered the most.

I knew I was the gold medallist for the batch that year because the results had been declared a couple of days back. Early that day I went to the section where the medal winners were supposed to line up for their cloaks and gowns. There was a list of medal winners there. I picked it up just to check if I was indeed getting the gold medal.

Gold Medal- My name.
I turned the next page and was about to keep the sheet down when my name caught my attention .

I read carefully.

The XYZ Special Prize for Best Student in Economics: My name.

I remember how I stopped breathing for a second. I had not even known that such an award existed.

And that was when I saw my name in another place.

The ABC award for Best Outgoing Student for the Batch of 2009 : My name.

I fail short of words here. I honestly do. You know I think there is such an amzing ring to the sound of the words- Best outgoing student of the year. It sounds so BIG. So final. So very absolutely unbeatable.

As I was jostled around by batchmates trying to get their robes , I recall being transported into a different world.

I had just realised- some one hour before the award ceremony , that I was going to get ALL academic gold medals open for my entire batch of 178 students..

I wore a green and pink saree that day along with a Gold watch and a string of pearls.

The saree was an ancient one belonging to my mother. I had often seen her in it and I felt that she looked fabulous each time she wore it. It did not look half as great on me (infact it looked quite horrible) but I wanted to wear something so very hers on my special day. It was my way of saying, I am yours and each achievement of mine is as yours as it is mine.

The string of pearls- My Mum and Dad gifted those to me on my 18th birthday. And as I opened my gift that day so many years ago I saw a piece of paper fall off. They had left a note inside the jewellery box. It said, in my fathers beautiful hand writing that I should have a focus in my life and give my all to achieve it.

The gold watch was a gift from my Grandfather. He takes immense pride in any academic achievement I have ever had and had gifted this watch to me when I had scored 92% in class ten. The Box reads—Merit award from my grand daughter. May you achieve many more, bigger, grander things.

I have often felt that that one day was my day. Absolutely , totally my day. I remember the collective gasp of the audience as my name was announced for the 3 rd consecutive gold medal and I knew each and every eye was on me as I made my third quick trip to the stage.

I remember the multitude of back slaps, the way a reporter came and asked me , before he interviewed me, if I were single. I remember how some random woman came and congratulated me and said, ‘ you seem to be the brightest around! And I am so proud you are girl’

I felt so blessed and so lucky. It was like all the hard work had paid off. I knew my parents would be the proudest set of parents sitting in that auditorium. I knew I had achieved something I had till now only dreamt of.

Why do I speak of that day today? I don’t know. This is one big experience that I had never shared with my blog readers and I wanted to let you guys be a part of my biggest day- that happened a long time back. The following is the link to the post that has me announce my Rank one but not the other things
:http://smilethesmile.blogspot.com/2009_03_01_archive.html

I am putting up a pic as well. It is a hideous pic but it shows you the saree and if you look closely the watch and the string of pearls as well:)





Love
RP

Post 11
First salary in Pounds

Hi,

Today is an important day. I got my first salary in pounds. The pay slip shows an amount thats bigger than I had thought it will be but thats not the point. The point is that I have a job. a job that pays me for the work I do.

I have now known Sid for more than 2 years (I realized that right now!!) and from the moment I met him first my job had been a concern. I spent hours debating marriage with sid thinking about my career (Dont get me wrong, I love him to bits and a million times more than any stupid career )and I spent hours after my wedding crying because I had not gotten through yet another interview.

I am truly grateful for work right now. Its not the money that matters , though ofcourse it is important, but it is just the thrill of earning again. I got my last salary cheque in December. It has been 6 months. Six long months

Job hunting was not easy. I have never had anything this difficult and I have not forgotten the tears and the tension. The depression, the ‘we-are-sorry-but-best-of-luck-for-your-job-hunt’ emails, the interviews, the waiting, the hoping that this would be the one…..

I never really valued work before this, and never valued my ability to earn. I do so now-
very humbly so.

I am therefore truly greatful that I am lucky enough to have a job. This experience has really made me appreciate work like I have never done before and I hope I do not forget this lesson life has in its own way taught me in a hurry.

If you work, think that you hate it- change jobs if you can, but please appreciate the fact that you have work. There are millions in this part of the world who do not.

Love
RP

Day 10

My bottle of Pure fruit smoothie :)

I love this one brand of fruit smoothies that I get near my office, not just for the taste and for the fruits that it claims are in it but for the nonsense they write on it.

Enjoy:


Ingredients:
9 crushed strawberries
1.5 pressed apple
½ mashed banana
½ squeezed orange
5 pressed red and white grapes
0 1950s bunglow*
And a squeeze of fresh lime



*or stairs of any description


This kind of nonsense always makes me smile and the first thing I do when I buy my smoothie is to read all thats written on it. I always find something stupid somewhere:)

RP

Day 9

Blog readers

It is weird- the kind of relationship you develop over time with the readers of your blog.

Sometimes you get to know them really well, sometimes they are blog writers that you feel you know well because you read their blog regularly.

In the last 5 years I have been blogging, I have actually met 2 people through this blog. Two wonderful people- one I am still friends with, the other a fellow blogger was a very good friend at one point in time but we kind of lost touch along the way.

Since I am quite fiercely protective of my anonymity in the blog world ( in fact it is only now that I mention my city on the blog before this I never did that also!) - so this is quite a large number.

Apart from these two I have spoken on the phone to one and exchanged emails with atleast 3 others (I do not have a separate id for my blog)

Why do I suddenly talk about this?

Well there is indeed a reason. It’s the Girl series.

I started writing the Girl series about 4 years back- that was when I used to have a much bigger reader base and frankly was more enthusiastic about blogging too. Shekar, a fellow blogger and a voracious reader was one of those who used to follow my blog quite regulary. His comments for the Girl series were very encouraging and even now I remember one of his comments verbatim.

So 4 long years later, as part of this marathon, I decided to restart the Girl series.

To catch up on what all I had written I sifted through the previous 4 parts and spent some time going through the comments as well. And there I found the comment that Shekhar had left for me all those years ago. I smiled as I read it, promising to def mail/ scrap shekhar that I have put the next part of this story, he so keenly followed.

I wrote part 5 2-3 days back and was postponing the next post simply because I had to let him know that I had written part 5. It was a weird thing in my head- its not like we speak/ chat often. Infact we have never spoken/ met each other or are even really aware of what the oher one is upto.

But I just felt like doing it this way- one of the weird things you know, letting him know of the post. He does not follow my blog now, so he would not know of the post on his own.....I mean I have had no contact with him in months!

Anyways today I changed my status on FB. Shekhar who has most prolly never commented on any of my FB statuses , commented this:

“Speaking of which, we, the readers of ur blog, have been kept away from your own power of story-telling, especially 'the girl' series”

I was blown away by the co incidence. That he should remember that particular post after 4 long years in between of which we have hardly ever had any communication except his occassional comments on my blogs ( which have stopped as he stopped reading my blog sometime back- fault is mine though, I really had stopped writing) and maybe one email. At max 2.

So I immediately informed him to go read my blog and told him how I had been not writing the blog marathon because I wanted to let him know of the latest post.

Its funny, how we connect people with things in life and how they connect/ associate us with the same!

Love
RP

Day 8

Apologies & Redemption: It has been four years since I last wrote what I very unimaginatively called “The Girl Series”. For various reasons I stopped mid way. I still have a lot to say and many stories to tell about 'The Girl'.

Over years, I often thought about finishing this series but never had reason enough to do it. The blog Marathon is the perfect excuse.

Very few of those readers who encouraged me through the first 4 parts now remain on my blog. But for those who might be interested the following are links to the previous 4 parts:

Part 1:
http://smilethesmile.blogspot.com/2006/08/added-later-at-104511th-day-of-august.html

Part 2:
http://smilethesmile.blogspot.com/2006/08/dadi-update-well.html

Part 3:
http://smilethesmile.blogspot.com/2006/08/dadi-update-well.html

Part 4:
http://smilethesmile.blogspot.com/2006/09/girl-part-4.html

Also if you see the Right pane you will see these (in a section called Girl Series) linked directly to the posts

And now for Part Five :)


Part Five:

The last time, my readers and I met Girl, and that was almost 4 years ago, we left her outside her eldest son’s class room where after doing away with each bit of pride, the daughter of one of richest zamindaars of Calcutta was born with, she had just asked her son’s teacher if she would help Girl get an education she could at that point in time only dream of.

“….I don’t have money. I cannot pay for your help. I can only give you my word that I will be an honest student….” Girl muttered hesitatingly. From the corner of her eye she could see her son crane his neck from where he was sitting in the class wondering why his mother had come to meet his teacher.

Seeing Girl’s twitching hands and uneasy, scared smile Teacher understood the internal struggle the girl was going through- what it had taken for to come and do this.

“ What a strange thing to ask for?”, thought Teacher to herself as she studied the woman with jet black hair that almost reached her knees, honest eyes and rough-over worked hands.

Teacher debated silently. This was against the school rules, she anyways had enough students to teach and certainly did not need another one without any extra salary. Obviously she should politely refuse such a strange request. Certainly, she made up her mind.

“Yes, I will help you….”, said Teacher surprising herself much more than she surprised the woman infront of her who now folded her hands in a mark of gratitude as words failed her and tears of relief and hope began their happy journey down her beautiful face.

This was, readers, no ordinary moment.

Not, if you think friendships are ordinary. How could this moment which silently, with tears and smiles and wonder, marked the beginning of one that would last more than half a century be anything but extra ordinary ??

Thus started a unique long distance learning programe . Teacher would use, FB’s copy, turn it upside down and on the last page write down small words that she knew FB knew.

“Explain what each word means to your mother. Tell your mother to write these words again in the space below 5 times. It is her homework. Be a good teacher.”, she would smile.

FB would come home and tell his mother what her homework was for the day and Girl would spend the afternoon studying along with her two sons.

This period marked an important phase in Girl’s life. She had now set on a journey to achieve her biggest dream. A dream to learn-to be educated- to not be the illiterate wife of a famous doctor. A secret dream. A clandestine effort. An effort with 2 accomplices apart from Teacher- her two lovely sons.

Imagine a small house in a city in India 50 odd years ago. Imagine the summer heat. Imagine three people in that one room. One woman and her two sons. Sitting on the floor. Imagine the woman fanning her sons and herself intermittently with a hand made fan. Imagine three dark heads bent over three different sets of books. Doing different things but united and tied to each other in a way only a mother and her children can be. In a way only a student and her two tiny teachers can be.

Love
RP

Day 7

The Pleasures of Not Having a Blender.

Case 1:
Sid: How about Rajma?
Me: No baby! How can we make Rajma, we need blender na…..
Sid: yeah ofcourse

Case 2:
Sid: Should we try making Chhole?
Me: Baby, we don’t have a blender naaa…..
Sid: Ohhhh, ofcourse!

Case 3:
Sid: How about Luaki ki sabzi?
Me: We don’t have a blender na…
Sid: Are you sure we need one for sabzi also?
Me: Ofcourse! Do you know how to make lauki ki sabzi without a blender?
Sid*downcast*: No

Case 4:
Sid: How about a glass of milk?
Me: Baby, we don’t have a blen……..yeah babby, ofcourse, hot or cold?

:P


RP

Day 6


So I am in office and sid is working from home. It’s a lazy Friday afternoon and I am amongst the very few people in office. I get this email from Sid’s office id to mine:

“Message from Sid:
Hey, can you please pick up the courier package? Get it home.

Forwarded message from C:
Hey Sid,
These guys have left a courier package for you on your desk. Thought would let you know!
Cheers
C”

So C sits right next to Sid’s desk. I craned my neck to get a view of Sid’s desk and yes, I could easily see the brown packages.

So, in the next few minutes, I sauntered to his place and casually picked up the package from Sid’s desk and sat down back at my place to work.

A couple of minutes later I got another forwarded mail from Sid:

“Message from Sid:
:D.Enjoy!

Forwarded message from C:
Sid!
Some girl came and nicked your courier packets! I thought you should know!!!!!!!
C”

Sid then sent him a mail telling him that the girl who came nicked his packages is his wife! And just to rub it in a little bit more, I went up to him today.

“Hi C”, I said extending my hand.

“Hi”, he smiled sheepishly.

“I am the girl who nicked the courier packages”, I said.

“Yeah!”, he grinned, “ I got to know you kinda know him”.

This is my favourite work place story right now!! Thought would share it with you guys!

Love
RP

Day 5:
Good News!!
I shall now share some good news with you.

I have a job! Tadddaaaaa. It took me some 5 months, lots of rona dhona and many many interviews including three at the firm I am with right now.

I have now been working for a week and apart from the fact that I have had to come face to face with an avalanche of information, things have been good.. And whats the twist in the tale?? I work in the same company and office as Sid!
That seems quite werid to think of. But Sid often goes for client meeting s and can easily work from home. Infact I realized today that it will be very easy for me to work from home as well! The profile is such that it does not matter from where I work.

There is a long story about how this job happened. I am still on leave from company X (which took me on a great salary in the midst of severe recession!). Sid and I collectively decided that I had time till 4th of July 2010 to figure out a job for myself else we will both move to India.

As he told his boss this and the HR head heard that in passing, things started happening. There was this role available for which they had been passively head hunting for over an year. Would I be interesred in interviewing for it, they asked!

Hell yes!

So then followed 3 rounds of interviews.

And on 5th of May 2010 I was offered employment.

As an MBA I am indeed a little over qualified for this role, so they are happy with who they have on board and I have a job which is what I have been craving for for so so so so long that I don’t care about the role ( which btw is quite decent)
So I have started work now. I hope I do a decent job here-I want to work hard and to do well. Wish me luck!

Love
RP

Day 4
A Tale of summer coats.

We had a mini school reunion a couple of days back in London. School reunions of this kind are so much fun. There are teachers you talk about, classmates, ice cream walah, chane wala – just so much that no one else but an old school friend can think of.

There were 4 of us. N (http://smilethesmile.blogspot.com/2010/01/best-friends-i-dont-know-if-any-of.html) who is fashion designer in London, S who is a lawyer in London, myself and then a girl called D who was visiting from India on work.

So we met at the Waterloo station at 7 in the evening. As I saw N my jaw dropped. She and I had both bought new summer coats in the last 3-4 days and guess what?!! They were just slightly different makes from the same company!

The same colour, a very slight difference in cut and the same size!

So we would be walking round the city in almost identical summer coats? We questioned each other.

Making peace with the absurd situation at hand, we deicided to concentrate on meeting the other two girls we would be seeing after almost a decade.

We were, however, still reeling from this coincidence as we hunted for the other two at the hugeness the Waterloo station is.

And as the clouds parted I could see D & S standing at a little distance from us. I was seeing D after 10 years- she left our school when her father, an IAS officer of prominence, shifted base to Delhi and she joined DPS thereafter. We were good friends and used to sit close by. I was going to meet S after 8 years! I was the Vice Captain of my house and she was the head girl. Nice girl, good speaker and a very good head girl. I do not think I ever got a chance to meet/ speak to her after she passed out of school.

So there should have been so many things I should have noticed about S. How thin/ fat she ad become. How her hair was . How she walked, how she talked. But that’s not what I noticed. What I noticed was the S was wearing EXACTLY the same coat as the one I was wearing!!

Call that a coincidence or what!!!

Such is life

RP.

I never thought I would post a pic of girls coats! But here you go! Have a look at the coats, the tale of which this post was!

Day 3

Internet Savvy Dad.

So my Dad has just discovered the internet. Okay he knew it existed but it is only now that he has figured that it is no rocket science.

One day he sets an FB account.
The next day he puts up a display pic .
The third day he starts emailing people from his gmail account.
The fourth day he has put a video on his FB page.
The fifth day he has changed his gmail password.
The sixth day he has sent my brother’s girlfriend a FB friend request.



The following is an email he sent to me before I went to India early last month.

dear rp,

We are very happy about your forthcoming visit. What we have to finalize in the meanwhile is the preparation we have to have. We can have 3 boxes of famous home made laddus,one each for sis-in-law, mummy ji & sid. I made a very low calory cake today. yu can have 2 large tasty(non healthy)cakes. We can keep on updating our list. Yr interview was fabulous. This will keep yur schdul vry tight.its interview ,india visit, sis-in-laws visit,then start of job. All this will keep yu on yr toes. All the best
bye
chacha

Why I call my Dad, chacha is a long story and shall be dealt with in some other post.

In the meanwhile enjoy Da’s email.

Love
RP

Nani

Post 2

I talked about my grandmother some days back. She has been in a very delicate stage of late. The hospitals and the doctors were helping little. So Nani was brought home with oxygen mask and cylinders et al.

Last morning, Nani got really unwell. She was unable to breathe even for 5 minutes on her own. Things started getting very hysterical. I gather now that all of Nani’s 6 children ( the 7 th is in the USA and is on his way as I speak) were is various stages of utter despair early yesterday morning.

A big meeting was called to decide what the next step has to be. My uncle and aunt are doctors and they were both discussing which hospital would suit Nani best when , I gather my Grand dad, put his foot down. No one would touch Nani now, he said. What ever has to happen will happen at home. If she has to go away, we will respect that and let her be in peace.

So Nani was kept at home. Things started worsening. A doctor friend of my Uncle came over. He is a heart and lung specialist and gave Nani some injection. That was considered useless as all believed that Nani had a few minutes or hours at most. Nani had not eaten ANYTHING in the last 2 days and internal septicemia was making her body burn internally that would make her cry out in pain. She had a huge bed sore and was, as I said unable to breathe. Her skin had patches of blue and doctors could no longer find any vein for injections.

Half an hour later, my 86 year old nani was up. Sitting in bed after a long time and aksing for food. Trust me, I am not exaggerating one bit.

Of all things, the random injection had worked wonders.

Nnai was bathed, she got all the family round her , she spoke to her 2 month old great grand son in the US and told him how beautiful he is. She called my little sister and congratulated her for getting through every bloody medical entrance exam in the country and 95.5 % in the boards. Hoarding with her pictures are all around the city. They were shown to Nani. Arcticles in the newspapers where my cousin had dedicated her success to her grand parents were read out to her. Some 20-25 surrounded Nani’s bed for hours as she asked for food. Nani voiced concerns about what would be cooked that day for all her kids. My Mum dressed up nani, out a bindi on her forehead, combed her hair and made her sit.

My grand dad was in the room near by. As Nani sat dressed on her bed, mum asked all the other people to move a bit so that Dada ( my grandfather) could see her from where he sat. As people parted, Dada craned his neck to have a look at his wife of over 50 years.
Nani smiled a shy smile. Dada smiled an encouraging smile.

Mum says that was the most special smile she has ever seen in her life. She says it brought tears in her eyes.

This is certainly a miracle. For the time being. We do not how many hours this will last. It si certainly not a permanent solution. My Mum apparently has been feeding, bathing, and cleaning my Nani for the last 10-12 days and has aged about 10-12 years in the process. She says her biggest wish was to see happy for some time. She had seen Nani cry in pain non stop like a 3 year old. She has been so frustrated with Nani’s suffering that all she had started wishing for was for God to give Nani peace what ever that meant.

Nani had a lovely day yesterday. I have not heard my mothers happy voice in a long time. It is nothing short of a miracle to have Nani back for a few hours with us.

I don’t know what this incident means but all I know is that you do NOT know what life has in store for you round the next bend.

Love
RP

PS Blog Marathon is on. I have the posts written. Will post them once I am able to. I should be able to put all the remaining posts by the end of day BST.

Important Notice

Day One

Hi

Inspired by Preeti Shenoy ( www.justamotheroftwo.blogspot.com) whose blog I follow quite regularly now, with this post I have jumped into a blog marathon.

This means there will be one post each day for the next 30 days. Hopefully without fail. My only exceptions will be allowed when I have no access to internet, in which case I shall make up with two posts the next day.

Why am I doing this?

I have been thinking about this so often now. There is so much I want to blog about but end up not doing anything at all. Maybe this will help!

There is another bigger reason why I am doing this. This I shall reveal to the few who read my blog as I reach the end of the marathon.

I can do this much for Blogging all the way 

Sleep tight

RP

Nani

My Nani is very unwell. I was at the Indira Gandhi Airport in Delhi, ready to board my flight in 20 minutes when I called up Nani to bid a final farewell.

I was told that she had gone to the hospital for some checkups. I would have left it at that but I don’t know why I hunted down my uncle’s number and called him so that he could hand over the phone to Nani and I could speak to her.

That’s when he said that Nani had just had a heart attack and had been admitted to the ICU.

I reeled for a couple of seconds. I stared at the flight board and the ‘Now boarding” that blinked stupidly next to the name of my flight and I had a major urge to just leave the airport.

But I did not do that. It did not make sense.

So I came to London. The 9 hour flight was weird and I burst into quiet tears more than once thinking of Nani and how Mum must be feeling right then.

Nani has been in the hospital since the 21st of May and today is the 27th. My Mom has been with her day and night and feeds her like a baby. Life does come a full circle.

During this India trip which was just for 7 days ( which is less considering now I have a sasural to visit as well) I however did manage to go to my Nani’s city. We drove by car and reached her place by 7 in the evening and left at 5 next morning. It was short and very crisp but like all trips there, it was warm and full of a lot of love.

I cannot imagine how terrible I would have been feeling today if I had decdided against the trip due to time constraints.




If you can, do pray for my Nani. I love her to bits and cannot stop thinking about her.
Love
RP

PS. I am attaching a pic and Nani doing my Kanyadaan. :(

Indeeeah!

I am in India at the moment. And am loving every second of it!! Trying to make every second last a little longer, memorise a little more, observe a little more....

I sleep with Ma and Dad. My brother is here as he is doing his internship and preparing for MD entrance exam. It is, therefore, after a VERY long time that all 4 of us are together.

Sid is in London and though I miss him terribly, I am very glad of this time I am getting with my folks.

It is very hot and we have an AC in each room but still we all (Mum, dad Bhai and I ) sleep in one room. I sleep with Ma and Dad on the bed and my brother studies on his table right next to where I sleep with his lamp on. I fish out my book, New Moon that I bought at Heathrow and read it till late in to the night by the light from the lamp shade. It is quiet except for Bhai’s murmurings as he studies in deep concentration. There is the regular sound my AC makes but most importantly I have my Mum’s arm around me.

Nothing Nothing, NOTHING beats having your Mum close to you. Right next to you. Fingers willingly entwining into yours if you reach out for her hand.

This is what I miss most when I am in London. Ma and her hands. They are quite ugly to look at. Infact if you see her face you would not think the hands belong to this face but for me they are most beautiful hands on the planet.

I sleep in peace.

Love
RP

The positives of a job hunt

Like I promised here, http://smilethesmile.blogspot.com/2010/04/job-hunt-i-have-been-avoiding-writing.html there are some positives about hunting for a job.

I started my internship officially on the 20th of April, 2010. Long story on how I got it and I might blog about it later. However I came to London in the beginning of Jan and it was in the end of April that I first heard a ‘yes’. Even if it was for an internship that would not pay.

So that’s almost 4 months of rejections.

That might not seem too much to most but trust me it has been a very difficult time for me. The reason is simple. Never before have I faced so much rejection. I have always been the teachers pet, excelled in academics with little effort albeit a lot of hard work. Hell, even getting and finding the right guy was very easy for me. There was a multitude of family friends who wanted me as the bahu and yet again I had my pick.

Never before have I struggled so much for a ‘yes’. It still remains elusive.

But I have to confess that I have grown so much because of this experience. I have now learnt to just pick up the phone , look up the website for any contact number, call and speak to who ever picks up the phone. My elite b school mindset of feeling all superior to mankind ( expect those from better b schools) has rightly received a much needed shaking up.

I have learnt to push for setting up of meetings. I have learnt to call people so many times that they stop taking my calls. I have learnt to give a 30 second elevator pitch about myself.

This is new to someone like me who inherently has too much self respect and ego to go around akisng people for 10 minutes of their time!

Initially I would feel hesitant about speaking to the firangs. Honestly I think we have grown up on such a dose of American sitcoms and movies that the british accent seemed quite difficult to follow and I would end up sounding like an idiot asking people to repeat themselves. That, I am glad to say, has indeed changed now because of the numerous interview and calls that I have had.

Each of the interviews has been a huge learning experience. I remember this phase when I had started feeling very low about not having a job. To change my mind I would go out for a run/ jog and on the way I would only see people dressed up in formals. It just made me cringe so much.

It was then that I realized how important work is for me. Till then , I had always felt that I would be better suited to academics but LBS was an eye opener. I have to say getting through would have been great but it would have made my life hell. Because while I was interviewing I did not feel any rush of energy , no inner voice that told me ” yeah! This is what you were meant to do!” and when they informed me that the phd would take 6 years to complete I almost blacked out!

Had I gotten through I know it would have been very difficult to say no because of brand LBS and I was not sure I wanted to do it!

So I am glad they have chosen someone who probably wanted it more and in this process I have for the first time realized that I want to work. It is just that I need the right kind of job. A job that suits me as a person.

I always believed that I was an academic soul. Now I know myself better. However shallow it might sound, I simply want to work and earn some dough for the next couple of years. Simple as that.

S is marvelous at his work. I have learnt to learn from him. If I can be half as good, I will be great.

I have learnt to reply to emails in the most professional manner. I know it is a stupid thing to say but it is a very important skill I have acquired- the right british tone for a work email. INfact on any day I am job hunting I send across more mails than I did while I was working back in india.

I am more comfortable job hunting now. The reason for that is that my leave in my company back in india has been extended to 4th of july ,2010. And Sid has been the single most supportive husband I could have dreamt of. If I do not find a job that I like by that time I will go back to India to restart work and he will put things in motion for his relocation.

I think it is a big thing that he has agreed to do for my sake. Knowing fully well how well he is doing in his present profile and how much he wants to stay on in London for the next couple of years, I cannot but appreciate him.

So, I know now that Sid has thought of ‘us’ and I appreciate and love him so much more for it. We can be happily married when all is good but it is in times like this when one has to sacrifice something that you truly understand how blessed you are to have a husband who is ready to let his career take a hit so that you can have one for yourself.

I was recently asked in an interview why, if I am as career oriented as I claim to be, did I choose to leave the fantastic job I had to get married at 25 and relocate
to a country in deep recession.

My answer is an advice for all young girls. I said this:

“ I think the single most important decision regarding your career is to marry the right man who will support every single career move you make. I wanted to marry right, if for nothing then atleats for the sake of my career”.

Advice: how your career turns out to be depends quite a bit on the kind of man you marry. Marry well. Marry intelligently.

If nothing, for the sake of your career.

Love
RP

Heathrow visit:)

So Sid came back yesterday. Finally after 16 days. Stupid vocanic ash!

It took me some 2 hours to get there. After figuring my way in, I suddenly felt ravenous and hence headed to a coffee shop hunted for something veg and handed it to the guy at the till.

“Toasted?”, the desi guy asked me.

“Yes, please”,I said. Here in London you need to thankyou and please more often than you breathe in and out.

“Can I get you a coffee as well, please?”, he asked.

“Naah”, I said.

“Tea, then?” he persisted.

“No”, I persisted as well.

“Why?”, he questioned.

“because I do not drink tea/ coffee”, said I

“You must be very health conscious then”, he observed.

So we got chatting as he toasted my sandwich. By way of conversation I told him that I was there to pick up my husband who had been stranded because of volcanic ash and was coming home 2 weeks later had been planned.

“I think I can help you, he said.

“How?”, I questioned.

With a flourish he took out a banner and a pen.
“Write him a message!”, he said.

“No…I don’t think so”, I said.

“Come on! Why?” he said.

“Because I would not want to embarrass my husband”

“Trust me! He will love it !” he said.

Slightly doubtful, I took it from him. I hunted for a place for myself and carefully balancing a sandwich in one hand, the phone between my ear and shoulders I wrote my patis name on the banner.

Then did a little it of calligraphy as well. Then underlined it. Then made flowers. Then added leaves.

It was looking shabby but then that was the best I could manage. All ready I went and stood waiting for him in the arrival area.

There were so many people waiting and I got to see such beautiful things in the half an hour I stood there. There was this pretty dark haired girl standing right next to me and suddenly I heard a weird sound coming from her. I turned to look at her and found her in tears with her hand hiding her mouth as she stared at a girl walking in.
They had such an emotional reunion with both of them in tears. In her place then came a little girl with her Dad. She had made a drawing welcoming her ‘MOMMY’ I saw the Mum walk in, stare at the poster and hug her daughter as the Dad hugged both the women.

Then there was this guy who came dressed up like a bee to welcome a lady. He made her stand in front of him and did some kind of a bee dance. The two of them were laughing hysterically as they walked away hand in hand.

I stood there waiting with my banner and soon I saw Sid walk in as I ran to welcome him. Sid’s poor friend did not where to look as we hugged each other.

Sid was very amused by the banner and he asked me a million questions about it. The silly little banner was quite a hit!

Here is a pic of the banner for you guys!




Love
RP

Job Hunt

I have been avoiding writing about this for a long time now. Even now I do not know where to begin from, what to write and what to not write.

I started job hunting even before I came to London infact I started it even before I got married. My biggest issue with coming over to London was indeed the job thing. I knew it was going to be difficult but hey I had a fantastic job in India which I had gotten in the midst of heavy recession, I am rank 1 at Bschool, rank 1 in engg
college, can speak well, dress well…my fears seemed really unfounded.

However the reality is indeed in front of me now.

I have been hunting for a long time now. It has been a huge long series of Nos. No from companies after rounds of interviews , from LBS for their PhD and from more jobs. Sometimes I wonder what is the toughest bit about this. Now I have an answer.
It is fine to know that yet again you have not made it but it is just so difficult to inform family and friends that you have not.

It is the whole process of investing in hope and the ‘if’ that is very taxing.
However, I do have something now. After weeks and weeks of looking around I finally have an internship. So I do work. But it does not pay me and it is not a permanent position. I am still giving interviews and applying but nothing concrete is in my hands.

But like they say, what does not kill you makes you stronger. Some day soon I will blog about the positives of the job hunt!

RP

Pizza!

Sid is one of the many stranded across the world because of the volcanic ash problems. Only thing is that he has now made his way to India. He was going for 5 days and would have been gone for 16 by the time its time for him to come back!

So, I am all alone in London. Though he is the one who is stuck, I am the one in a worse situation!!!

I was initially quite unwelcoming of the idea of staying alone at home, however I am quite cool with it now and have been living on my own for a week now.

Today I had an important telephonic interview. It was supposed to happen at 5 in the evening and since I was preparing for it through the day all I had eaten was a sandwich. I was talking to Sid on the phone telling him about the interview and my lunch when he said that he will order a pizza for me.

I was quite reluctant to do this. The reason is that we have a pizza ritual. He orders his pepperoni pizza and I order my corn and mushroom pizza. We order it together. It just seemed weird to order pizza without him around.

He however insisted and I relented as I was too tired to cook.

The pizza guy came to deliver the pizza. He handed me a huge bag. It not only had a pizza but also potato wedges which I love to munch on and my favourite Ben and Jerry’s ice cream.

I think it is a small gesture. But I was very very touched by it. And I miss him all the more.

Love
RP

Maybe that day will never come

No PhD

So no PhD now. I gave my interview on the 8th of March and I came to know today that I have not been offered an admit.

I am disappointed that PhD will not happen but the disappointment is not too intense. First of all , while at the interview I came to know that PhD now takes 5-6 years to complete. I was quite disappointed to know that. Simply because then I would be locked in London for a very long period of time. Right now, Sid and I plan to stay in London for not more than 3 more years, head back to India after that and start working there.

It is possible to extend our stay in London to 4 years but 5 years with a high possibility of it turning to 6 years is just too much.

The experience of the interview itself was fantastic. I was interviewed non stop for some 8 hours straight with just 5-6 minutes for myself and I felt as I was walking back home that that experience was enough to make up for the work put in for PhD. I got an opportunity to speak to some of the top professors in the Marketing field in the world. It was an opportunity I was thankful for. I got a chance to bounce ideas off them and though I do not have an admit, some of them had really nice things to say about my proposal.

At the same time, while at my interview, I did not feel excited about the work I would be doing as PhD student. The same problem to be dealt with for the next 6 years was a concept too much to handle.

My other problem was with the amount of money. The stipend itself is quite less and stays the same year after year. So though a job I might get right now might not pay me a gloriously high amount here in London, I can hope and work for a raise.

The other unfortunate bit is that once done with a PhD you become over qualified for all the high paying jobs around.

So, in short you get into this line if and only if you are getting into it for the love of studying and teaching and are okay with a low salary and the kind of life it brings along with it.

I don’t know whether I would have accepted the offer had I got one but I know it would have been a tough decision because it is not every day that you get a course offer from the No 1 B school in the world.

In conclusion, I know I did my best, I really cannot think of anything more I could have done to improve my chances. I am a little sad cos I tried my hand at something, came very close to getting it and then did not, but it was a good ride. I will know for the rest of my life that I gave it my best try and I will also now know that I might not have been such a great fan of an academic career either.
Corporate ! Here I come !

Manager. Writer. Artist.(Yeaaaahhhhhhhhh!!! *Victory Dance*)

So, I have been job hunting. I have given one interview and they have been taking ages to get back to me. This is really funny. It can be ‘No’ which is fine atleast that way I know that one thing is done with.

Apart from that I have another interview on the 4th of March and then the PhD thing on the 8th of March. So well… things are happening and still in a limbo.
So anyways, rather than sitting and fretting about it which I do once in a while, I have decided to learn some skills on my own.

So the first thing that I wanted to learn was ----Tadda! Painting with water colors.

I dunno why I was hell bent on water colors. Maybe it is that hideous painting in my living room here. I am sure it is the copy of some great artist with a complicated French name but it is down right hideous.

I look at it often and think that I can def do a better job of it.

Anyways so today I spent a lot of time trying to figure out where in London I can get water colors. Most areas were too far off and in parts of London I have not been to before. Plus I was feeling a little down today with a bad throat and all. So I just set out of my home. Just like that. Looking around for paints. Aasking people where I can find them.

So that led me to the local post office. And there I found my paints and my paint brushes and some paper. I must say they are not of the best quality but I did not wish to invest in something I was trying out for the first time.

So well, I came home with all my stuff and got down to painting my first water color in ages.

I made 3 today. The 1st two are unfortunately only a little less hideous than the painting in my living room but I like the third one.

I have cheap bad brushes and few cheap colours but I still enjoyed the experience as I tried to copy what the video showed me ( I youtube-ed for water color landscape tutorials and such like).

So the following are the links of the stuff I have tried to copy followed with some pics for you guys to enjoy.

The purple flower
Youtube Link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oHdCq1upQ30



I don’t like this too much but then if you see the video it is a close match with what the lady has been drawing in the video. So I guess purpose served.

The weeping willow
Youtube Link : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WY-w_6DZS5g


Okay. Here I am quite happy with the background but I think the tree looks a little weird. As if some one has titled it to one side. The colors are too pale. Not too good but I guess do-able for the second attempt.

The African tree
Youtube Link: I am sorry I cannot find the link for this one I have just used. Thats unfortunate. Tch. Tch.





This is my favourite and I like this one quite a bit. It is simple, was easy to make and most importantly made me feel good! Yeaaayyyy!

As I was telling Sid, although right now I am not working … ok wait…I technically am working since I have not resigned from my previous job…and I have started writing short stories again my current designation/ designations is/are

1. Assistant Manager at a company I don’t work at
2. Writer
3. Artist
How cool is that!!!

Hehehe

Love
RP

This feels like London

I forget that I am in London. Okay. That came out wrong. The Brits try so hard to preserve all that is ancient and cultural that most places look very quaint and you hardly feel like you are living in one of the biggest cities of the world at the moment.

I live by the Thames. My house has an absolutely glorious view of the river. http://smilethesmile.blogspot.com/2010/01/river-thames.html).

Each time I go out and peep to my left I get to see what has now become my favourite view of the city. The way it should look. Powerful and Big. Don't get me wrong, I love the quaint bits to bits. Its just that I love seeing something in London look big. Evrything here including houses, rooms, ceiling, beds is just so tiny!!

Here is the view for you to look at :)

By the day



When the Sun sets



At night.(This pic does not even come close to 10% of the actual thing looks..but still..)



Are not these pretty ? :)

Conversations with the nurse

There is something called the NHS. UK provides you with health services free of cost (ofcrourse they take away 40-50 % of your salary as tax so they had better !) Sid and I had to register for the same. We wanted appointments together we got a slot 14 days later!

So anyways, we went on time and all. I was a little nervous when a shabby looking nurse called my name. she was wearing a crumpled looking shirt from under which I could easily see her huge belly hanging south wards!

So anyways, I went it. The first thing she says is “ In case you do not understand what I say ask me to repeat it and I will do so”. I smiled to myself and nodded a yes.

In some time she realized that I do understand the English she speaks so we kinda struck up a conversation.

“So, what do you do?”
“I am an MBA”, I said.
“What is an MBA?” she asked much to my horror.

“You become a manager”, I said.
She nodded her head. I was not sure that she got what I said.
“What will you do here?”
“I am looking for jobs and looking at PhD”
“What is a phd?”, she asked.

“You become a doctor with a phd , I said.
She shrugged her shoulders.

She took my BP and I was a little doubtful about the numbers so I asked her to repeat the diastolic and systolic figures ( when someone takes your bp they will give you 2 numbers. The above are medical names for the same).

The nurse who had just taken my BP, my pulse rate, my height, my weight and recommended me for another test, said “ I am sorry I do not know what that is”

OMG! OMG! Totally OMG! I feel so funny about NHS now!

And for those of you who are in India, enjoy the medical facilities there! Trust me you will miss them when you are out of india!

RP


P.S Sid went in next and the nurse figured that we are husband and wife.
“ You must be very scared of her,”, she asked my husband.
“ Why would that be”, asked Sid.
“She is soo clever!”, replied the nurse.
Hmpfff!