Live and Let Love

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Normally I would let this day pass without a mention. After all, isn't it mature and very adult to say that Valentine's day is a holiday largely manufactured by the greeting card industry? But I am known to change my mind on the spur of the moment if sufficiently provoked, especially on matters related to this blog.

(The above picture is taken from Valentine's Day Countdown cartoons by the extremely talented Stephanie Piro, who is also a cartoonist of the Six Chix. Make sure you check out the rest of her cartoons, and those of the other Chix!)


Thinking on the same lines, why do we even have a wedding anniversary celebration? Two people living in the same house, bickering all their life, put aside their differences for one day and go have a candle-lit dinner only to return and fight over something trivial. Or maybe, they won't have a candle-lit dinner and fight over not having it. Obviously the greeting card companies knew what they were doing. If it were a stupid idea, it wouldn't have caught up so well! Is it like saying social networking is an idea that was manufactured by social media marketers? Yup, we, the rest of the world, lap up the outcome of those ideas and merrily put the blame on the ones who thought about it.

I don't have anything For or Against 'celebrating' Love. I could as well turn against it, given that at my age no one bothers to give me gifts any more (Sigh)! My only hope is that my little son who always presents me flowers with no particular reason attached to it, would realise that Feb 14 is all about all kinds of Love and maybe... bring me one, saying he Loves his Mom. But there are several years between such a day and today.


In the meantime, I would suggest that those of us who find such celebrations meaningless, turn a blind eye on the PDAs and console ourselves that 'they'll soon grow out of it.' No use in working ourselves up, as I always say.

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Working From Home

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"Do you need any financial help?"
"No."

"Do you have money to take care of everything?"
"Of course, why do you ask?"

"No, I was just wondering... Remember the girl xyz we used to know in school?"
"Yeah?"

"She left her job-"
"Okay."

"- and is sitting at home too."
"I am not 'sitting at home'."

"I mean she doesn't have a job either."
"I have a job. I am working from home. I just don't go to office. I get paid all the same."

"Yeah. Just let me know if you need help."
Huh.

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Meeting the Doctor

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As she scanned the reports, the Doctor's eyes were dim. The couple waited with bated breath.

When the Doctor finally looked up, she did not meet the patient's eyes. "I would like to talk to your husband first," she said.

The patient stared at her for a long moment before rising. The next instant she sat down again. "You know what, Doctor? I think I'd like to tell you a few things first before you talk to my husband." She glanced at her husband, who shrugged and left the room. The Doctor sighed. She knew what this could mean.

The patient, not used to unnecessary preamble, drove right in. "Is it bad news, Doctor?"  
"It is too early to say. I may suggest a few more tests. I would like to speak to your husband now, if you don't mind."

"Why, Doctor? I am the one who is sick. Do I look like a weakling? Is it cancer? Tumor? Or something worse? What do you think will happen if you tell me? Do you think I will faint? I will commit suicide?"
"It isn't that," said the Doctor. "I am sure there is nothing to worry but -"

"Don't you know, Doctor, that men are babies? I am sure you do. They cannot handle bad news the way we women handle it. They need something to do. You need to give them something to do. If you make them sit down and endure misery, bad news, they will implode. Tell them, go get some medicines, bring the patient for treatment daily, get her to do some X-rays, blood tests, scanning,... they'll feel great. They'll enjoy all the hardships they go through to look after the patient. They need to take care of others. If you tell them to sit tight while you take care of everything, they just don't know what to do. It's for us women to absorb those kinds of emotions. So you please go ahead and tell me how bad it is. Then let's decide how to break the news gently to my husband and what we can make him do so that he does not feel left out of all the fun."

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Lessons I should learn...

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When my five-year-old returned from school, he had with him a nice small flower. (Yes, he still has the habit that started about a year and a half ago.) He handed it over to me the moment he stepped down from his van, and went on to describe how his friend pricked himself trying to pluck one for his Mother, and some other child intentionally trampled on it.

"I did not pluck from the plant, Amme. I picked a fallen one from the ground."

"Oh, your friend also has the habit of giving flowers to his Mom."
"I don't know."

"So what made you think he was plucking it for her?"
"I assumed so. Why else should he pluck it?"


I left the flower on the table as I went into the kitchen to get his lunch ready, and he proceeded to change his school uniform. Barely ten minutes later, we got into an argument, one of those Mom-Son things. He charged towards the table, and in one swift movement, he tore the flower in two. I didn't say anything, just stared at him for a moment with a forlorn face, and went back into the kitchen. I don't know what he felt when he saw my face change.

A few minutes later, I found him sitting on the floor, and did not pay much attention to what he was doing. He came up behind me, carefully placed the flower whose petals were glued together with his Fevistik, and said:

"Tomorrow I will bring you another good flower, and I will not tear it apart."

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Copper, Copper, Copper...

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I'm afraid soon my friends will stop telling me stories (funny and others), because most of those stories make it to my blog before the week is over, with more than a little spice and salt sprinkled on them. Here is one such story. Borrowed without permission, seasoned, garnished and delivered.

The mobile phone rings as the traffic light turns red. As is the practice when driving, Friend accepts the call and switches to speaker-phone mode, and begins to talk, dropping the phone to the lap. The traffic cop on duty narrows his eyes and peers at the driver of the big, black car. From the way the lips move and the face changes, he could make out that there's foul-play. Phoning while driving! He inches closer and knocks on the window. 

Friend (winding down the window): Yes?
Friend's Dad's voice on phone: ... and we had to grind all those spices and put them out in the sun to dry for one whole day...
Cop: You're speaking on the phone.

Friend: So I am. Dad, could you stop for a second?
Friend's Dad (oblivious): ... and yesterday there was no sun, in fact we thought it was going to rain...
Cop: Don't you know that it's against the law to talk on phone while driving?

Friend's Dad: Did you say something?
Friend: Dad, I'll get back to you. One second. (To the cop:) Sorry, you were saying?
Cop: Do you know that it is punishable by law to use the phone while driving?

Friend: Excuse me? I am not holding the phone to my ear. As you can see, it's on my lap. So which law did I break?
Cop: The law about talking on phone while driving.

Friend: So you mean, I can listen to songs on my stereo and sing with it while driving, talk to someone in the passenger seat while driving, but if I leave my phone in speaker mode and talk, I'm breaking the law?
Cop: Well...

Friend: Well, officer? See, the lights are turning green, why don't you take a decision before the vehicles behind start blaring their horns?
Cop (scowling, and at a loss for words): Go ahead.

Friend (Winding up the window): Thank you, Officer. Dad, you were saying?

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Whatever name it goes by

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... it is, (among other things)...

... not about being together all the time, but getting out of each other's way.

... not about having the same tastes, but being thankful that they're different.

... not about talking, but knowing that it's better to be silent than start an argument.

... not about trust, but sticking together despite countless reasons to mistrust.

... not about listening, but about saying every day, "Deaf woman, for the third time, switch on the fan!"  --"Mister, for the last time, look for your pants yourself."

... not about believing the partner is simply superb, but about wondering every evening, 'how come this morning I found him/her wonderful?'

... not about doing everything every day, but declaring 'I made breakfast today, it's now your turn to make dinner.'

... not about spending holidays together, but about being with own friends, in the pretext of giving each other 'space.'

... not about being happy with each other, but being happy in spite of each other.

...

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Echoes from Afar

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It was not in the pipeline. No, it was not a New Year resolution. It was not contemplated before it was launched. My short story blog came up almost on its own. I suspect that a certain Someone, for reasons I know nothing about, left clues for me to pick up or ignore. I chose to take them, and created a wordpress blog for my short stories that I meaningfully call Echoes from Afar. Within days it was made clear why the blog was essential before I stepped into the New Year.

I did have a short story blog in those times. It was not public. I dared not show it to anyone till the idea of getting the stories published crept in. Today, when I see fresh authors proudly display their work, I cannot help but be amazed. Looking back, I think I was right. Had I made them public, a lot many things would have been different today. That blog still exists, in the depths of blogspot, inviting a hit or two per year from people who stumble on it in their search for something else.

The stories I have posted at Echoes from Afar are newer in comparison, so I decided against refurbishing the old blog. Besides, there are ominous and far-reaching reasons behind the birth of the new blog. Anyway! The first four stories, Traffic, Smoked Out!, The Blink of an Eye and Belief had been published last year by the MAG. The two new stories are Coming of the Monsoons and Onions. There are a few more in varying levels of draft, and I intend to publish one or two a month without hindering my other regular writing work. Of course, there is no pressure, only a desire to write (and complete) as many as possible in this lifetime. I don't even know why that's important. Till I figure out its significance, I'll try to keep up with the speed of inspiration.

Some day, maybe, these stories will find their way to a book too...

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Life is one big Fuzzy Logic

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What a crazy couple of weeks it has been! I don't think any amount of explaining can give a clear idea of the degree of craziness I was exposed to.

It all started with a simple Facebook status message I posted a few days ago, the title of this post. The fuzziness I intended to portray was centred around a small unpredictable, lively, bouncy object aged five.

The Fuzziness of the world must have taken offence and decided to step in. I was then taken on a whirlwind tour of its internals, the outcome of which, I learned not to give my word on anything without adding a "I'll try to" or "if nothing hinders it" or "provided everything remains unaltered" to every promise I was forced to make. Those phrases are my lifeline I now fall back on when things become ...er... fuzzy.

First it was the electricity board, better known in these parts as BESCOM. A previous near-death experience had prepared me against loss of unsaved work. I have begun backing up my work in at least two places, even at the risk of getting confused as to which is the latest and doing comparisons daily to determine which one to work on. (My absent-mindedness is a post for another day.)

The day I committed to someone that I'll appear to chat at 11AM to discuss the work to be done, power supply failed at five minutes to eleven, forcing me to devise new methods to reach him and request him to make a call to my mobile phone (it was not easy, considering that he is in the US). The BESCOM uncertainties lasted almost a week, making me rely on Airtel SMS to keep myself from getting cut off the world.

Once BESCOM steadied itself, it was the turn of BSNL(broadband). I don't remember facing a major problem with them in the last one year or so. This time I dialled their toll-free number a hundred times (and got royally disconnected almost every time), finally managed to register a complaint, spoke to their customer support personnel about ten times, got connected to different people and ended up repeating the story every time, finally losing my temper to one woman ( who calmly asserted, "No use in shouting at me, Madam!" ) and later apologising to her ( -- "No problem, Madam, we are used to this." -- "But I'm not used to yelling at anyone..." ) and finding one helpful technical person who helped me through ( -- "Sorry for the trouble..." --"Oh, don't say trouble, Madam, it's our pleasure!" ). The problem, as I eventually found out, was at my end most of the time, except once when the network really had issues. Again, when broadband failed me, I resorted to Airtel GPRS to send emails that kept others informed of my situation. (I did consider writing a post on my experiences with BSNL broadband, particularly their customer support.)

It was the timing the problems chose to crop up that was beyond my comprehension.

Do you also feel (in my friend's words) handicapped if you are not Connected? I often wonder why I need an Internet connection when I am working on an article for which I have sufficient data with me. But I do rely on Google to confirm that I am writing it right, to search for apt words and phrases to use, and when I need a break I browse or tweet or Facebook.

Lesson learnt: There should always be back-up, preferably more than one! I thought back-up only meant saving our data in more than one place. How naïve, huh. It also means, in addition to a BSNL broadband connection, you should have an Airtel GPRS, Tata Indicom USB Modem, and any other connectivity you can lay your hands on. It also means that if BESCOM wreaks havoc, you still have an inverter, UPS and other accessories powerful enough to hold you above water for hours. It also means that if the customer support number breaks down, you have a couple of other direct mobile numbers of technical personnel handy. So that unless rain, lightning, thunder and storm join hands to cause destruction, the rock will keep the leaf from blowing away and the leaf will keep the rock from getting drenched.


Sometimes I feel I'm walking on a tightrope, afraid to look down this side or that, lest I should fall. But isn't that the challenge of it all, the balancing act? Besides, every time this happened, there had been an alternative way to keep myself afloat.

Thank you, BESCOM, BSNL, HP, Intel, Airtel, et al for making my life an adventure!

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