Happiness

Last evening, I received a FB post from some "The Happy Page" and they talk about things that make you happy. My husband feels I am a sucker for drama and my antennae keep looking for grief and problems, I agree with him to some extent.
So for a change, today I thought about things that make me happy and keeping me happy is quite easy as you will see.

All of us should make a list like this and put it up. It will help others make us happy and ourselves too.

1. Waking up early morning, when every one's asleep

2. Filter coffee

3. Baking the perfect muffin

4. Girls away or asleep

5. Travelling

6. Day dreaming

7. Silver Jewellery, lots of it

8. Laughter

9.  Discovering a long forgotten song

10. Pedicure

11. Loooong baths

12. Writing

13. Walking in the rain

14. Reading

15. Love, the more the better

This reminds me, many years ago when I was a regular reader of film magazines, I imagined myself as some film star giving interviews and answering all sort of questions. Today I fulfilled that wish. 

By the way, check out this link

Happiness

Chand roz aur meri jaan.... chand roz

There are songs and there are songs.

Music has the power to transport you to another time, to a place where nothing else can take you. Most of us have some special songs. There are quite a few songs that make me nostalgic too.

Some songs take me back to Kanpur, where I spent my childhood in a house full of doting elders. There are others which take me to Lucknow, my teenage years, reminding me of my silly crushes and infatuations, yet others take me to my college and school fests.

Then there are those, which take me back to my husband, to our courting days.

Today, while looking up some music I chanced upon a song, old, Hindi, Kishore kumar song. One that I had never heard except when my husband sang it for me, when he was yet to be my husband.

That we had a difficult relationship, some of you may know, but how difficult it was not many might know. Since I feel generous tonight, I am sharing a part of our story.

When we met, he was already engaged to be married in a year to his long term girlfriend. What started as friendship, soon developed into a beautiful chemistry, something that I can not even attempt to describe. The good girl in me reminded me day in and day out, that this is not a "good" thing to do. That "good" girls don't steal husbands or boyfriends, that it is someone else's man that I was falling in love with. He was in a similar dilemma. On one hand was someone he was falling in love with, on the other was the one who he had committed to, years ago. We tried moving on, moving away, moving apart. It did not work.

The most difficult part, however, was taking the decision. It was a long period full of self doubt, guilt, sadness, anxiety, insecurity and agony. It is one of these moments that he sang this for me. I had never heard the song before, I laughed at it, at the irony.

Today I heard the recorded version for the first time, it's beautiful but not as beautiful as the one he sang, in the middle of the night, in the middle of a road.

Why don't you listen to it? The voice, the poetry, the music. If that's not enough, there's a very handsome Rishi Kapoor too.

Chand roz ..

Have tried to link it, in case it does not work, you can copy the following add -

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=thAovTg2qGE

Dilemma

She felt suffocated, depressed, angry and helpless. Could she have been in love and feel so miserable? Love -- it makes you smile not cringe, it makes you confident not miserable, it gives you a blush not dark circles.

It seemed like she was back in time, time when she tried hard to be what he wanted her to be, to fit in, to be liked and loved. Yet, it never happened, the more she tried, the farther he went until one day when he went away forever, apparently for "them". She waited, for a word, a phone call, a letter - nothing came.

All her life she wanted him and now when she had him, it made her uncomfortable -- unhappy -- unstable and guilty. Guilty for not waiting for him, for falling in love with someone else, for getting married and now, for being with him.

They say picture speaks a thousand words, and she could see why, all day she looked at his pictures, most of them with his wife, he was happy, content and complete. There was no reason for her to be in his life. She could never be his wife and there's nothing else she'd rather be, for, she had her own life, home and husband. How could she be so reckless as to think of another man?


It is difficult to let go of something that you have wanted all your life and then the universe brings it to you when you least expect it ; when you are happy and comfortable in the life that you chose or the life that chose you.  It is even more difficult when you have the temptation to give in to your desires, when no one's watching, when you can have the best of everything.  But is there something like best of everything?

Reunion

"Why could you not wait for me?"

"I had no reason to, you didn't even look back that evening"

"what do you mean? don't you know? I went away for you, for us?"

"really? and how am I suppose to know, did you ever tell me?"

"I had to tell you?"

"You never called, never wrote, you did not even reply to my letters. What was I suppose to make of it?I waited for weeks, months -- two years. I wrote to you every week, had no number to call you, waited for you to return--call--write."

"and then got married? I could not believe when I heard, I thought it was a joke, I wanted to call you and tell you to stop, wait for me."

"why did you not?"

"what for? you were in love, you were happy, I was the last thing you would have wanted"

"only if you called, once."

 "what's the point, you are married and so am I"

Love

"I love you"

"hmm"

"you"

"there's nothing like love, baby"

"really ? then why are we here"

"because I like your being around"

"accha"

***************************************

"You look beautiful!"

"thank you!"

"love me, do you?"

"I think so"

"how much"

"a little"

****************************************

"I waited all day, where were you?"
"I slept off, was tired"
"ok"
"don't sulk, I love you"
"really"
"yeah, I think so"
"how much"
"quite"

*****************************************

"you din't call"
"have been busy"
"one call?"
"there are so many things to do baby, no time"
"hmmm"
"love you"
"really?"
"yes"
"how much"
"a lot"

*******************************************

"Can we talk"
"no, she is home"
"and me"
"you are there, forever"
"why"
"because I love you"
"how much"
"the most"

Insecurity

She lay awake tonight, bewildered and confused, alone and lonely. 
Never in the last few weeks had she felt that way. He was always by her side, holding her.
Conversations usually bring people closer, but this one left her feeling cold and distant. It was not the same man who had been holding her so close throughout, who made her feel warm, loved and wanted.
She did not want to disclose it to him though, for, she would be accused of being insecure and childish. After all, there is no space for insecurity in love, is there ? Only if it is love.
Was it really love that made her so stupid, that she harboured thoughts of letting go of everything for one man? A man who will never call her his own. 
Oh ! How she wished, she had Krishna with her, like he was with Draupadi guiding her throughout. But, for now, she will have to be her own Krishna and maybe, she will have to let him go.

Happiness

And then he was back, in her arms, like he never went away.
When they are together, she feels warm, happy, secure, beautiful, loved and desired.
Though she knows she does not belong to his world, she can never be his wife or lover,
yet she's happy, happy to escape from everything into his arms, every night and prays that he holds her tight, each night, till she's alive.

endless wait ??

She had waited all evening to catch a glimpse of him, and catch she did, just a glimpse.
He looked very handsome in the soft glow of his reading light, just as she was getting close, he had to go.
"I will wait for you", said she.
The sky turned orange.. she sat, waiting.
The sun was now up, she was still waiting right where she had been all night.
He slept, like a baby, oh! how lovable he looked !
In the morning, he went about his chores, his work and she waited -for a look, a smile, a hug but nothing came.
It was now evening, she was still where she was, waiting.
She had promised herself, that neither will she disturb, nor will she complain.
She is going to stick to her promise. But wait she will, forever, if need be.

Mom Dad.

My first promise to myself is to write and I have been thinking about it all week, writing about some of the things that come to my mind.

This morning, I woke up with a hangover of birthday wishes, love and music. Since then I have been having long detailed conversations with myself about them. It's not easy to convert thoughts into words, what's even more difficult is to ensure that the reader interprets your words the way you want him to.

To quote one of my favorite people "writing is something that comes to you. You cannot go to it. But for writing to come to you, you must be in a state of readiness to receive it." Now how can you be in a state to receive anything with a toddler running around you, pulling your laptop and the TV playing the the background ?

Anyway, I was building up on a thought when I was disturbed by the intercom. I hate it when I get phone calls in between work, not having a choice, I attended the call and was told I have a parcel.
Since my husband gets his regular supply of books through courier, I dismissed it to be one of those. Only when I saw the packet, I realised, it was for me. Since it was my birthday yesterday, my parents had sent me a present.

Thank God for Parents.

Birthday blues..

Since birthdays are now like just another day, I plan to make this one a little special.

My life has been in need of a little bit of polishing and shining. 

What better way than to make a few promises to myself on my birthday.

Writing more often:Many years ago, one of my teachers had told me that I write well. That was when I was still in school and had lots of friends to talk to.I did not need to pen my thoughts down. Some years later, I did. There was so much to say, so many things to talk about but not enough people interested.When my write-ups appeared in the newspaper supplements, I was certain that this was what I wanted to do.  That however was not destined to happen. I went to work & never got the time again. In the last few weeks, I have rediscovered writing and I love it.  It’s such a high!!

Going back to my music : Once upon a time, music was my only friend. I remember going crazy over some songs, waiting to arrange for some twenty-five rupees and then for going to the market to buy the cassette.I drove my family mad playing songs in loop. Today, my I-pod plays my daughters’ playlists. I hope to go back to my music, to Asha bhonsle, Kishore kumar, RD and Amitabh bacchan.

Unfriending some & befriending others: Now this is a tough one and I learnt it the hard way. Barring a few, you can’t have the same friends for life.I say this at the risk of sounding rude, but, the point is, when you have nothing common with someone, when you have not met them for years and have no intention to, how can you be friends? Then there are some, who are and will be with you for life; fortunately, I have quite a few of those.  The rest will have to go from my Facebook & Phonebook.

Loving myself :  I owe this to me. Ever since I remember I have disliked something or another about myself.  It could have been my face, my color, my body or everything together. Even today, I hate getting my pictures taken. I guess it’s time I made peace with myself.

Not easy to do, but then, what’s the fun in doing the easy stuff!!

another august

Was it the one when all my friends decided to gift me pens and only when I was reduced to tears did the real gifts come out? It could also be the one when we were allowed to go out on our own for Lunch as evenings out was unheard of.

I guess it should be the one, the eve of which, was spent in the train, or the one where a special friend gave me a super cool fragrance, the empty bottle of which was with me till years later.

It can also be the one where my husband, then only a friend, decided to send home a lovely and expensive cake, which made my brother visibly upset. “What’s his business send my sister a cake!!” he would have thought or the one where he sent me flowers to work and gifted me my very first “Hugo Boss”.

It’s a silly habit that I have, of trying to recall my birthdays and to guess which one had been the best.

 August always brings with it a lot of happiness, as a kid, I remember getting excited as the end of July drew closer, after all, I was getting closer to the most special day, 13th August.

As years pass, the excitement seems to fade, though, I still secretly get happy when the fresh new page of August appears on the calendar.

While growing up, birthdays meant new clothes, lots of presents, great food, friends, and so much more, because twenty years ago, you usually got new clothes only on a festival or on your birthday.

Looking forward to mummy making a brand new dress or two, since it's also the Rahki month was so rewarding when the dress was finally ready for fittings.

As for presents, oh!  I can go on & on about them. I made a list of things that I wanted months in advance - an audio cassette, a new pair of shoes, some pen, a fancy hand mirror, a special earring, some shade of a lipstick, some handbag and then assiging them to a friend each - nothing is as fun.

Ditto for food, some year it was a “Chinese party” some year it was “Chole Bhature”, the other popular ones were “chaat” and “burger” parties and of course the cake – all made at home by mummy dearest.

Some years later, when I started to work, the venue moved outdoors, to some new neighbourhood restaurant. Some more years later it moved to fancy star hotels with just my husband and I.

In the last few years, though, the significance of a birthday has considerably fallen. It no longer is a day when I can do what I like or want. It’s no longer a day of pure and uninterrupted happiness. It is not even a holiday. Going out for a meal has become more like a routine and so has the whole exercise of attending phone calls.

I never could guess why my parents’ birthdays or anniversary was never a big deal to them. Sending us to school, getting the meals cooked, going to work, attending a wedding or some such silly thing was always more important that their special day. Maybe now I do, mine is not to me anymore. Guess that’s how the cookie crumbles.