All’s fair in love and war?

‘If you can’t win over her, kill her’- that’s what seems to be on the minds of people in love these days. In fact, it’s ignominious to identify them as lovers. People no longer seem to understand the sanctity of love.

Talking of love, the Taj Mahal should certainly light up your mind, now that it’s become the talk of the town. The sheer radiance of this marble-clad massive mausoleum basking under the sunlight or its sparkling reflection rippling through the adjacent Yamuna river by the moonlight are inspiring enough to make one fall in love. The Mughal Emperor Shah Jehan made this architecture over the tomb of his beloved wife Mumtaj Mahal to exhibit his eternal love for her.

On the one hand, we talk about voting for this epitome of immortal love to bring it into the new Seven Wonders of the World, and on the other hand we hear about people resorting to killing their love in desperation. Well indeed, love has diverse definitions; that’s the parody of life. Anyway, the news channels are making big business either way!

Cases of people slaying down their own fiancées have increased multi-fold. It’s almost become an everyday episode. It was barely a couple of months from now when this 24-year-old software professional Kaushambi Layek, a TCS employee was murdered by her boyfriend at a suburban hotel in Mumbai. And now it’s this girl, Sushma Nikam who was brutally stabbed to death by her ‘lover’ on the busy streets of Thane amidst all the passers-by rushing to their workplaces. But despite their busy schedules, the otherwise-always-on-their-toes Mumbaikars did find the time to watch the ‘tamasha’, though they refrained from coming forward to the victim’s rescue. Due respect to the one lady who lent a helping hand – laudable! (I think everyone should start wearing ‘choodiyan’, if that makes one brave!) The victim was stabbed 21 times by the attacker in broad daylight, and that’s precisely the kind of social situation where we prefer to stay mum and stand as oblivious onlookers. Well, no one can be blamed. The sight would have been gruesome enough for anybody to think of taking instantaneous action. Picture ourselves witnessing such cruelty. We never know how we would react given the same circumstances - terrified…petrified…mortified…stupefied? A real situation is not an ideal situation! But people will be people – great talkers, little doers, especially when it comes to condemning each others’ doings. And the Press will be Press, when it comes to dramatizing the audience's reactions to add some spice to their hottest selling news!

Anyway, returning to my point, I was mentioning the different dimensions of love, or is this a typical case of pure love versus lust? Cliché as it may sound, but that’s the fact! Desire - want – get – acquire, these are the thoughts occupying people’s minds. Whoever said, one should learn to give in love. Forget giving one’s own life, even that’s an offence punishable by law! But taking away someone else’s life? This only confirms that we show no concern for anybody but our own selves. Self contentment is all that matters and we can stoop to any level to acquire that, though that may account to somebody else’s grief.

Can we still call ourselves humans or are we turning into callous and cold-blooded creatures, heartless hooligans? All said and done, one thing is confirmed – ‘All’s fair in love and war’, and people seem to have taken that a bit too literally. When this was phrased, little would the author have expected that there would be a phase, where love would lose its face following this very adage. And with many more ‘lovely’ centuries to go, even God might not be able to answer where mankind would lie and where humanity would be…

The ABCs of my Schooling

The monsoon is beyond doubt, the harbinger of nostalgic emotions. How we wish we could relive the very first days of our school with every first shower that June ushers in. A gala midnight chateratti with my cousins revived my memories, catalyzed my thoughts and provoked me into penning down those times.

As June would commence, so would our anxiety to experience yet another year in school. My summer holidays used to be busy with my Tinkle comics, with the covering of my school books, playing ‘Barbie-and-Skipper’ and rushing for my pre-school shopping!

My memories don’t go too much down the lane, but being the eldest of the three cousins, I do remember playing big sister in school. The over-protective one that I played to be (no, I wasn’t bossy and I dare my cousins to give a different version to this!), I remember those lunch-breaks when I used to go to my sister’s II-C class where she would wait for me with a sole friend of hers for our lunch ensemble.

As years passed by, our friends-circle expanded. Our lunch ensembles got merrier. My cousin would have certainly not followed our jokes and jeers, nevertheless she was part of everything. How we still recall those times, our friends’ mannerisms, the way we all ate, the way we played, the way we fell!

I can’t forget those early mornings when we used to be forced out of our beds. The drowsy-droopy threesome that were, we would drag ourselves out to the bus-stop desperately awaiting our bus to arrive to find our seats to slumber again!

My classes- V to VII were the best ones to cherish! Those were the years I still recollect very distinctly. Those were the years when we had the perfect blend of more of fun and less of books! And my class VI-C was the best of them. It was one of the very few terrace classrooms in the entire school. And I was one of those fortunate ones to be envied by my other schoolmates.

How we would gaze out of the window into the open skies. How the raindrops would splatter on our fresh new notebooks and on our faces. And then the frustrated looks that we would give our teachers as to how irritated we were with the rains diverting our attention from the lessons, making it cumbersome for us to make notes; certainly not realizing that those looks could never camouflage our inner bliss- the joy of welcoming the rains, the joy of having no lessons…
These moments will always bring a smile on our faces... The smell of the wet soil ('mitti ki khushboo')...

The memoirs of my school would be incomplete without cheering for the best house of our school- my Red-house. Our typical cheers to the house would go-
‘Soda-lemon-ginger-pop,
Red house on the top.
RED HOUSE- RED HOUSE!
Clap-clap-clap!’

Cheers to those times!

And finally, not to forget, a toast of gratitude to the endeavours of all my Sisters and teachers who have contributed in shaping me up the way I am!!!

What May had to say…

May was in no way different from the other months (except for the fact that I composed my first blog post in May 2007!). I leave for office at 8 in the morning and return home at 10:30 in the night…much to my mother’s relief, I guess! And with the latest baby-sitting chore that I have, putting my 1 year old niece to sleep at night is a feat by itself. I catch up on my sleep only on my weekends. And that is the time I expect no one to wake me up. In fact, people’s attempts to pull me out of the bed have all gone futile, the deep-sleeper that I am!!!

It was a hot May Sunday morning. There was an important house-warming ceremony that I had to attend. But the indolent, incorrigible imp that I am, I woke up at noon, only to find that it was much too late to attend the function! Everyone was wild at me. They ought to have been! I did feel guilty- very much actually. I shouldn't have overslept. But now it was too late. And my ego deterred me from apologizing… But my mother would never scold me- NEVER! It’s only her silence that I am very much afraid of. That scathing silence is much like a scorpion sting, penetrating my skin, painfully triggering every inch of it. And finally in a totally electrocuted state my conscience would gasp out-‘Oh gosh! What have I done?’ I was BAD! I didn’t even apologize.

And now…
… I still haven't apologized. I do feel bad about it every single time I do it, but Sorry seems to be he hardest word for me.

The entire conscience-transition process took time though! Blame it on the sweltering May heat soaring a 40 degrees C., you can’t expect me to gain my cool so easily, can you?

Here's what May had to say to me:

Be the child your parents want you to be!
Never hesitate to say Sorry.

I have learnt a lot more than this, actually. It was indeed a very introspective month for me. We had these character-assessment chain-mails circulating wherein I had my friends’ viewpoints on myself. They are probably justified in pointing out that I am this egoistic, short-tempered and adamant person. I also learnt that I am a very peculiarly ‘mysterious girl’! (Chill people, I don't aspire to become Peter André’s next muse!) My friends find it hard to understand me. Sometimes I wonder what I am! But one thing is for sure, I’m definitely more than being just ‘cute-chirpy-and-bubbly’ as everyone would say. And the narcissist that I am, I’d say, I’m definitely not an imp either… I’m just...important…