The Dilemma

I am currently surrounded by single women. No, this is not some guy's fantasy coming true. It's just the bare (pun unintended) truth. I am currently a single/ not so single/ confused person, but 97.35% of all my female friends, are surprise surprise...SINGLE! 

Now one would wonder what so many smart, funny, mostly attractive, well educated women are doing at this age in their lives when they should be married or at least on the anvil. Well, honestly, I wonder too. But then that's about all that we do. 

Being in our late 20's in north India doesn't do too much to bolster our single status. Its not like we're feminists who have sworn off marriage completely, but lets face it, we aren't married, we dont see ourselves married in the near future and frankly, I think we're scared out of our wits about the entire institution. 

Most of our discussions centre around the acute dearth of nice men in the world. Seriously, is it too much to ask for a genuine, nice guy? Nothing out of the ordinary, no Brad Pitt, no millionaire, no prose spouting intellectual freak, just a nice guy, with a pleasant disposition, basic manners, family, a decent education, presentable looks, warm, caring and hard working guy. Is that too much to ask for? Apparently it is. 

Our other issue being the decision about marriage. We dont have a problem with the institution. We dont advocate living in. But how in heavens name do you take the most important decision in your life? Seriously, all you married ones out there, do me a favour, drop me a line and let me know how you know for sure. Do you believe in soulmates? Are you convinced of The One for each one of us? How will we know if he is The One?

And if you give me crap like "gut feeling", "bells tinkling" "cows blinking", I'll hunt you down and shoot you. 

I've been imploring/ begging/ on my knees and wailing to Utopia to write me an exclusive post. One all about me and nothing else, (yes I am rather full of myself), but that was not to be. Now she's gone. So, its up to me to do the responsible thing, yet again, Sigh!! 

Just kidding.

Here's to you woman:

My first memory of Utopia is of her sitting in the stairs of my place waiting for one of roomie's to come back, since they'd planned to do lunch together. I didn't know her then, but since I was headed out to lunch I asked her to come along. That was the first of our many meals together. 

In the first few months of us knowing each other, Utopia seemed like a whirlwind of questions, emotions and expressions. She had a question about everything. Some rather inane and some really insightful ones (I don't know if she knows exactly how insightful some of those questions were). From the kind of loo in your house to your eating habits to philosophy, Utopia had to ask something about everything. To top it all, she had and sometimes still has this completely confused expression on her, quite like a HUGE question mark emblazoned on her forehead, which by the way is always drowned in furrows coz she frowns so much. 

Utopia eventually became my roomie and we stuck together for almost 4 whole years. Which is rather laudatory considering we had divergent views on everything, from the amount of light, to the kind of light, to mosquito repellents, to partying. But the few fundamentals that we agreed upon, that probably brought us together, were our love for reading, music, travelling, learning and eating. Since our other flatmates had lives way more happening than ours (read had boyfriends), it was just the two of us for each other. We'd eat together, head out and chill together, party together and occasionally go to college too. So much so that I had taken to announcing 'Honey I'm home' each time I came back from somewhere and she was home. 

Every now and then we'd have our tiffs about closing windows, (Utopia needing complete closure and me dying for fresh air), mosquito repellents (Utopia lighting 3 in one room and me gasping for breath), lights (Utopia loving yellow and me initially preferring white light, she managed to convert me later and we both had these fabulous paper lamps hanging over our beds) and so many other things. One afternoon, Motu Boy and I came back home from college and found Utopia precariously perched on the window sill trying to put black paper on the ventilator windows in order to block the sun. Motu Boy and I pried her deathlike vice off the window panes and calmed her down and promised to do it ourselves just as long as she promised there were going to be no more suicide attempts on her part. 

Utopia and I have so many memories. Most of them being really really really funny, all thanks to her and her antics and some not so nice ones, but we've seen each other through everything. I remember waking up on a sunday morn and reading and discussing the newspaper with Utopia while we sat on our beds, the way we'd enjoy our tea and toast while discussing the economy or some other major news. How we'd listen to the same radio station every single day coz it would be the only one playing english music, even though they obviously had only one cd which they played every single day, so much so that we knew the sequence of the songs. I remember Utopia interning in Delhi and falling in love with it and how I prophesied that she's be back. I remember us getting soaked every single day and how after a point of time we'd stopped caring and continued roaming in soaking wet clothes. I remember both us crying onto the shoulder of the other over some failed relationship. Us sitting around helplessly at the end of each month wondering about cheaper dining options in the city. Us fighting at the end of exam time coz we'd had just about enough of each other. Us complaining about the boys in our lives, all the time. The movies, the parties, the secret crushes which the other one would eventually figure out, the random acts of inexplicably insane behaviour, he drinking sessions, the books, the dreams, the ambitions.

Utopia you've always been there and whether you'd believe it or not, you've mostly made sense. Here's to us, the future, the cyclic paths our lives seem to follow, to travel, to studying and above all, to love.

Failure!

I wanted to write about the blasts! I wanted to try and understand what all of you out there feel about this, no not the enraged version, but a lil sober, well thought out, articulate version. I read SMM about her reservations against Muslims and am well aware of the general mindset that prevails in India and condescending statements about how all Muslims are not terrorists, but all terrorists are Muslims, etc etc. 

But I decided to examine the plight of a regular, non fundamentalist, educated Muslim. Here is someone who knows since the tender age of 5 that when she's travelling in public transport, she has to travel under a false name, more importantly, a Hindu name.  She's accused of being a Pakistani, which at the age of 3 is akin to being called anti national. She's often advised, suggested, threatened to go back to her country (Pakistan and not India, since it is assumed that Muslims ought to be in Pakistan and Hindus alone should be in India). 

She went to one of the premier schools in the capital, went on to one of the prominent law schools in the country and when she needed to rent a place to stay in Delhi, she couldn't find one. Well that is until she assumed another false, Hindu name. 

As a youngster like one of us, she too enjoys the occasional party, but she's learnt to hold her identity close to her and it takes a while for her to let her guard drop and tell you her religion. If she'd ever tried keeping track of the number of times she's heard the lines "Oh, you dont look Muslim." (Like what is a Mussalman supposed to look like?) or "Really, you drink wine, isn't that anti islam?" or "Hey, I have a lotta Muslim friends." (and that makes you secular because...?????), she'd have aged centuries in a year. 

She hates how even the most educated, 'liberal', 'open minded' individuals end up differentiating on the basis of religion and how Prez. Mush. is called a liberal Mussalman only coz he enjoys his whiskey. She is appalled at how years of friendship, relationships and love are forgotten with each successive blast. She wonders how only the Muslims stand out as terrorists and the LTTE, Naxalites, ULFA and billion other organizations who run parallel governments now, are conveniently ignored since they aren't Muslim. 

As an educated minority within her own community, she has long accepted that she needs to be the voice of reason, she needs to speak out for her people who cannot articulate their thoughts, their fears, their insecurities. Like the rest of her countrymen, she too hated fundamentalists, of all religions and she completely denounced any acts of terror, carried out in the name of Allah. But of late she knew she'd have to come to terms with the facts that she was fighting a losing battle. 

She'd fallen in love with someone, he loved her too. But he was Hindu and she was Muslim. He could see beyond that, but both of them knew that their families would not. They tried for a while, but it was just too painful. Eventually, like every other privilege, he too was snatched away from her, for being Muslim. 

She had tried long and hard to be one of the regular, educated, cosmopolitan youths, but each look of suspicion, each denial of her right, each deeper scrutiny of her actions, was worrying her and she was learning to find safety in numbers. She now understood why her ilk sought refuge in ghettoes, where they'd be amongst their own, without being looked at accusingly or suspiciously. She knew she'd never become a fundamentalist, but she couldn't live like this either. That's when she knew she'd have to run away.

She systematically liquidated her assets, closed all accounts, put in her papers at work, served her notice period, sold her car, had one final party at her place where her closest friends still genuinely enjoyed her company and boarded her flight to her freedom.

Her name appeared a week later in the list of dead, after they found her body from under the rubble.  She now knew there was no escaping it. She had tried to run to the other end of the world, but somehow had managed to board that very flight that now symbolizes the very basis of what she wanted to escape. 

"Pees" dont go!

Today has been a rather boring day. I've been in office since 10:30, its currently 4:45 and I dont have any work left. So, I've been reading blogs and checking emails OCD'esquely' since 3. So, thus far, its been great. 

However, I dont know what triggered it, but I was suddenly reminded of my last break up. Well it wasn't as much of a break up as it was being dumped. Rather nasty bit of emotional crap but thankfully it happened about 4 years ago so, it doesn't smash my ego to smithereens like it used to. What made matters worse was that he used to be my best friend for so many years before we started dating and it ended coz he cheated on me (something he acknowledged only 2 years ago) but yeah, he then proceeded to dump me, date the other lady and dump her too and "flit from rose to rose" and till date he flits. 

But my purpose of telling you this tale has nothing to do with the grotesque feelings associated with it. In fact, in retrospect, the events of that day after he left, are truly funny and I do manage to chuckle every time I think of them.

Well, so there he was stomping all over my heart. I'd seen it all along and I knew today would've come sooner or later but this was a lil too soon and decided for me. He came in around 5. 'A' (our other closest friend) was over visiting me. He came in barely spoke with A and much stomping later left, leaving A rather dazed and me rather upset.

I came out of my room and walked out of the house without so much as a word to A. I left my keys, my wallet and my phone behind me, thus disconnecting from the world, completely. I did not know what I was doing or what I would do. I just walked. And walked. And walked. I was kinda numb, in fact now that I think of it, I am sure I looked like quite the lunatic walking down the streets by herself with tears streaming down her face. Which also explains why I got the glances I did. So I walked and walked and walked, knowing fully well that A and the entire contingent of friends would be out looking for me or worried sick. I sat under a solitary bench by the road and just stared blankly into space. 

Up till now I was quite the picture of misery and devastation.

Then, I needed to pee!

I ran back home.

A was so relieved to see me without any visible traces of injury and I was plain relieved.

I guess the call of nature is more urgent that that of a broken heart.

The Bucket List!

Its all about life giving you these signs. I dont know if anyone out there remembers this horrendous movie called "Final Destination". It was about a group of friends who are killed one by one coz they fail to recognize the warning signs life gives them. I thought the movie was a load of crap coz seriously, anything shot entirely in the dark with sudden noises and heart stopping crescendoes can send even the healthiest person into cardiac arrest. But I have all along and still do sincerely believe in life giving you signs. After all, we are all miniscule parts of a larger picture, right? 

So anyhoo, a few days ago this intern in my office was talking about the Morgan Freeman starrer, The Bucket List. Sounded like a great movie but a lil utopian to my liking. So it was back to the routine with scarce thought to the "list". Then this morn, I awoke, feeling miserable and well the passage of time has done nothing to alleviate my mood, so I decided to chuck work and read up some happy blogs. So I read http://skrinkeringhearts.wordpress.com/. Sorry I dont quite know how to post links and stuff just yet. I dont even think I will learn, bear with me. 

And guess what, she too spoke of the "list". That's when I realized I'd been ignoring the signs. So here's my list, in random order, with liberty to make additions and deletions at any given point in time.

The Bucket List

1. I want to travel the world, especially Europe, preferably backpack and spend obscene amounts of time in each place.

2. Write legal literature.

3. Be a well known jurist.

4. Have a house with a sprawling lawn and a basketball court.

5. Have a golden lab.

6. Teach.

7. Become an ambassador or high commissioner.

8. Own the sexiest black dress possible and look absolutely stunning each time I wear it.

9. Learn how to dance.

10. Find a partner who enjoys dancing as much as I do and leads me.

11. Go out for picnic and soak in some winter sun.

12. Own a farm in the hills.

13. Buy dad an SUV.

14. Learn how to swim.

15. Get into physical shape fit enough to play Lara Croft or Catwoman or something along those lines.

16. Learn one martial art from the Shaolin masters.

17. Play tennis.

18. Learn golf.

19. Be able to bake.

20. Love someone and be loved in return forever. Absolutely forever, without any doubt.

21. Be able to ride a motorcycle without being stared at.

22. Tell people exactly what I think of them and not worry about ramifications. 

23. Be happy.

24. Play in the rain.

25. Feel weak in the knees when kissing.

26. Try not to wear my heart on my sleeve.

27. Have a baby and hope that he/she will grow up to be a good human being.

28. Marry a happy guy. Someone who loves his family and spends time with them and has a great set of friends, some hobbies apart from my own and loves me dearly.

29. See Utopia find true love and get to keep it for eternity.

30. Stay best friends with Miss Touch Me Not and Utopia and Motu Boy forever.

I have so many more things to add to this list, which I guess I will over time, but for now I have to run coz Boss' coming.

And I still haven't found what I'm looking for.

The winter heralds the marriage season in North India. Its fabulous, apart from the traffic that is. I love attending weddings, especially now since most of my close friends have started tying the knot. Its great to dance, drink and make merry into wee hours of the night in a stunning sari and ooh and aah over the bride and tell the couple how great they look together and catch up with old friends and crack up over stories from long long ago when the present bride/ groom was a geek/ freak and run to tell the other person the singular most embarrassing incident of their lives. 

The forthcoming winters brought 3 really close friends' weddings. I met up with one of the brides to be a few days ago. We lived together in college and despite our lack of display of affection, are very very fond of each other and I know I can turn to her in times of need and I hope she knows that she too can rely on me for anything she wants. So, I met up with her a few days ago and being in a quandary about my personal life was going to ask her "how she knew/ was so sure about her husband to be". Instead of coming right out and asking her, I decided to ask her the progress on her wedding prep. That's when she told me...that the wedding was off. 

In true filmi fashion, the lights went out and both of us were staring at each other in pitch darkness (how that happens is something you have to experience to know) with this silence, thick enough to cut through, between us. I yelled out for a drink. She did the same. We downed our shots. And then she tried to get me to talk. I have exhibited withdrawal symptoms before, but nothing was this bad. Anyhow, we got talking and it turns out that the gentleman in question and she weren't compatible. Its  a pity she learnt of it only after the engagement, but better then than after marriage, right? Brave lady, she took the call and ended it. Applause!!! 

I am extremely proud of her. 

This obviously led me to some introspection and I realized that I had no clue where Boy and I were headed. Honestly, I aint sure about him any more. But I realize that could be as a result of my pent up irritation at our inability to take a step. So, here we are at the ripe old age of 26 and 30 respectively, earning well, settled in our careers, with the dream of travelling the world. And here we are dithering, unsure, unsteady, unstable and every other "un" you could conjure up. So in true female fashion, I ensured Boy bore the brunt of my excessive introspection.

I have now told him that he needs to take a call. If we dont want to give this up without a fight, then we need to speak with parents. In order to speak with the families, I need to be sure and I need him to be sure. In order for him to be sure, I need for him to believe in the institution of marriage to begin with. Else, we could walk away, none the wiser. 

I dont know how to deal with this....suggestions anyone????

Beautiful Stranger!

I bumped into her a few days ago. She recognized me instantly. Well I recognized her too, despite the fact that she had changed a helluva lot. Ignoring the obvious weight gain, she still had changed. We exchanged our polite hellos, tried to act very nicely and discussed the most inane things under the sun, including the weather if you may please. That was when P started talking. Two words from that wretched mouth were enough to make us realize how much we hated his guts. I for one had almost forgotten my immense dislike for him, which came rushing back instantly, leaving a bile like taste in my mouth. I recoiled in disgust. I saw her visibly shudder too. We both noticed the other's reaction and laughed. A common enemy was a greater bond than a common friend. That's all that was needed and the floodgates opened. Old stories, incidents, where life had now taken us, personal notes, everything was exchanged. from the breakfast meeting, to lunch, to dinner, to the drive back, we were inseparable. 

However, Boy had found no mention in this entire conversation. I assumed she knew, she assumed i did not. She was wrong. The truth was that she knew what she needed to and I knew what I had to. Both uncomfortable in each other's knowledge but secure in the fact that it was all pointless; the knowledge and the ignorance. 

When I met Boy, I told him of my meeting with her. He seemed ok with the idea. I conveyed my appreciation of her thoughtful ways and asked if he'd be ok with me being in regular touch with her. I was met with silence. I knew both persons were still rather bitter. I did what I could. I ordered for dessert.