Downside Up!

Everyday isn’t going to be your day. You have your off-days when you’re so down on yourself and are almost in a trance throughout the day.

Some of you handle it well, some not so brilliantly. I have too many of these just like you do too. Like yesterday. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t find my reason to smile, once every few hours, in the small things that happened around me. It is the small things that do it for me truly. A jovial rickshaw man who passes a crazy comment at every weird driver who cuts him off, a sweet colleague who smiles every time your eyes meet, my podette on shuffle playing all the right songs out of the 500 odd choices or simply a darling brother who hugs you as you enter the door while telling you that you’re looking pretty.

In the end, it’s all about not holding onto that frown too tight. Let go of it.

What the...?

Just unfair. It is!

Was just sticking my head in the fridge for two purposes. At this ungodly hour, I was in the mood for coffee!And secondly, I was trying to get away from the sudden heat wave this mad city is experiencing. So, I take out the carton of Tetra-packaged milk cos I had my lazy reasons for not choosing the packet of fresh milk. Pulled out my king-size mug, tilted the carton and then my face did its automated emote. People who know me, know how quick I am to make a face, raise an eyebrow (right raise means one thing, left means another) and the often flair of the nostrils, apart from the others. Getting back to the story. I got totally freaked cos what was pouring into my mug looked like kanji, a.k.a. the water left after you have boiled rice. Then I do the stupidest and yet the most natural thing, I sniff.

The putrid stench made me wish I had chosen to give up on my mad-midnight-cravings, at least tonight.

I find out that apparently, after you've opened the carton, you have two days to finish it off, especially now that its summer.

So, here I stand. Totally disappointed. Cos I think too much for my own good, I have connected this with the way life is. Every darn thing has a shelf-life. Like it or not, either it expires, turns sour or (if it has no expiry date) just moves to the back of the shelf. Maybe i am too young to come to such a harsh conclusion, but I know that I ain't completely wrong.

An attraction. Totally comes with a shelf life. And the worst part is, there is no label that informs you of this. It just relies on your common sense and the external factors invloved. Ignore it long enough and its like a big mug of cold beer that has stood still too long.It's flat, too bitter to bother drinking and too warm to quench your thirst. Then is there still any point in drinking it just for the momentary buzz? Is that buzz worth the feeling of regret you will experience later? Why not just leave it at that and ask for another glass? Me being the person I am, I dont see a point in putting in any effort of picking up the glass putting it to my mouth and then regretting it later. I suffer from lack of patience for this kind of shelf life. Wait, I just generally suffer from lack of patience. Period.

More often than ever, it has the 'turning sour' factor. Some realise this soon enough and some would find out the hard way. Like imagine if I hadn't found the carton useless tonight, tomorrow my sister (who has this annoying habit of drinking directly from the carton) would find out through a really bad tummy and several visits to the loo.

Isn't it so damn unfair? I could rant on and on about this and somehow I will stop myself here.

And I do wonder - how come everything thing I think I need, always comes with batteries?

Oh John Mayer, I love you for today.

Anger... tch tch

Do you ever think twice about how you react when youre angry???

I tried to analyse just the people who are always getting pissed off around me, given that I can easily tick people off. Here is what I gathered.

I say the stupidest things when I am mad!

Last night, I was off at my sisters for saying mean mean stuff to mom. All this over an international phone line. And I said to her in absolute frustration, "I will hold you by the back of your collar and hang you from the fan and then I will turn that fan on and watch you go round and round and round and pray to the lord above that your brains will come back into place!" And I didnt even laugh about that later. And I am not making this up.

I, no longer wonder, why my sisters dont take me seriously!!!

Unfaithfully yours: A Wifes Tale

Conflict in a situation does not have to be light sabers or laser guns, automatic weapons or explosions. It can be as simple as what clothes will you wear to your first day at work, or as deep as how far should modern science go? Conflict can also be an internal process.

Being 16 wasn’t ever easy for a girl, let alone one whose only companion was a boy who always complained. "I would never be unfaithful in marriage," I remember him saying as we sat on his bed playing cards. It was a statement that didn't reflect any anger on his part, nor any of the emotional turmoil he must have been experiencing at the time." I had seen it so often. His dad would come home from work, pass a random comment about how his wife was useless and couldn’t manage to keep his house clean and they would both start to quarrel. Each one doubting the other. It wasn’t the right thing, yet it crossed my mind. How can anyone be so sure that they could never be unfaithful? How can one be so sure?

Here I was, 15 years later, getting married to the man I had loved since the past 4 years. This man standing beside me, I knew I could spend my life with. We had the same lifestyle in mind, we got along fabulously, and we talked lots. And most of all, we loved each other. I was so sure when I looked into his eyes, as we exchanged our vows; I could never imagine myself being unfaithful to my husband because, to me, this certainly didn't feel like a sacrifice. Even leaving behind those 3000miles, felt so positive.

We had the most amazing life together. In the evenings we would have discussions about philosophy and love. My husband, like my childhood friend, always used to talk avertedly about unfaithfulness. And in the nights, when he made love to me, he always whispered in my ears how he couldn’t imagine us surviving apart. He wasn't threatening or scaring me. Nor had I any intention of ever cheating because I loved my husband.

Our new jobs provided just enough for our food and shelter, but soon that wasn’t enough. Issues regarding monetary problems began to disrupt our peaceful dinner. For the first time since our marriage, we were fighting. Often we both said hurtful things to each other that weren’t even relevant and fights just ended up getting more and more brutal. We went to bed angry and woke up exhausted - the sex life suffered. I needed something - AN ESCAPE.

Financial problems had reduced but the bitterness still prevailed. The good thing about my job as an event organiser was that I got invited to all the parties. My husband, being the anti-socialite, never accompanied me. I got noticed a lot because I seemed a single person. Men actually approached me telling me how beautiful I am and stating reasons why I should join them for a drink. I turned them all down.

This one specific event was where I noticed him. Tall, fair, blue eyes. A vision in black. We were introduced by common friends and we started talking a lot. And ‘incidentally’ I started bumping into him at all the major social events. Here was a guy who represented all the kinds of stability and emotional support I needed in my marriage. I remember the first time I slept with him. It was an exciting but scary experience.

I was overcome with guilt, true, but I would take this to my grave. And strangely, I felt relieved. What my husband didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. That was what I told myself in order to feel positive. But happiness is short lived. The nightmare came true - my alibi unintentionally called our house and gave me away. I wasn’t as scared as I thought I would be. Maybe I wanted to be found out – to this day I don’t know the answer. All I know is that I caused a lot of pain to my husband whom I still loved.

Even though our marriage is in very tenuous state and I don’t know if we will ever recover. I still believe that my affair had a place in my life... I believe there was a reason all this happened. And even though my actions have made my husbands state of mind an emotional chaos, I hope time and mutual understanding will resolve.

Misplaced Information

The plane landed thirty minutes late, which meant, according to Mumbai’s normal schedule, the flight was on time. The aero-bridge failed to function as required. He sat there thinking, ‘Ugh! My first flight in three years and I chose Mumbai!’

The on-flight service of the Emirates Airbus was unnervingly polite. ‘They are so fake…’ he thought. On entering the airport premises, he was surprised at the lack of crowd. ‘Maybe my flight was the only one landing at this time.’ He was unaware of the fact that the city had a flight landing every three minutes. On reaching the immigration desk, he received a sheepish smile from the officer at the desk. The staff at the airport, like the people all over the city, was still asleep at half past five in the morning. The officer checked his passport and was awakened immediately.

‘Shahid Ijaz. A Pakistani with a UAE residency, a valid Canadian visa!' He checked his list, 'So he is the one with the special clearance request! How do people like him have contacts that high up?’ And as he reluctantly lifted his stamp to mark the empty square in the boy’s passport, he yelled in his mind, ‘Terrorist!’

Shahid picked up his baggage from the conveyor belt. 'This city is so god-damned slow!' She had told him, “Directly head for the Green Channel.” The lady inspector asked him regular questions like

“Any electronics or any goods above 10,000 you would need to acclaim for?”

Obediently he answered “No Madam.”

At 6:15am as he walked out the airport he had a sad thought, ‘She isn’t going to be out there waiting for me! Its too early in the morning for sleepy-head to be awake.’

But he would be seeing her three hours later at the hotel. Rahul had told him that he would be picking him up from the airport. At the exit of the airport, there were so many people waiting with sign boards that had names on them. Shahid was familiar with this as he had seen this outside the Dubai airport. They are chauffeuring those people to their hotels. Someone sprung up behind him and he was startled. It was her. Anastasia! ‘Oh my god! She is just so gorgeous’, he thought to himself as she hugged and kissed him.

Shahid held on a little longer and asked her, “Baby, you woke up this early just for me?”

She just smiled and said, “The city wakes at this time everyday. I need to catch up sooner or later you know.”

‘She hasn’t changed one bit in these two months. Still too proud to admit how much she loves me,’ he silently thought.

They sat in her car and started talking, catching up on everything. On the road to a place called Juhu, he noticed how the city was really awake. There were people on bicycles and bikes, in cars and buses, all going to work, he guessed. He looked at the conditions of the roads. There were pot holes, narrow lanes, winding roads. He noticed how the cars were barely a few inches away from each other, the signals didn’t really work and even if a few of them did, no one really paid attention to them. ‘How does this city function?’ He looked at her; she was so calm while she drove down these crazy roads. He remembered the time in Dubai, when he complained about the driving and how tedious it was to keep shifting from brake to pedal, while all she did was smile at him. And here she was, driving a manual vehicle in so much traffic with such little effort!

He was truly amazed at this one signal, cars just zoomed, so confident that the other side would wait till they had passed. There was a little child selling fresh red roses.

Shahid looked at her and said, “She must barely be seven years old, how can her parents make her work like that?”

She replied, “That child might not even have parents,” as she opened the window and bought flowers from the child, “and this may be the only way she will get food to eat. And even if she has parents, they are going to flog her if she comes back home empty handed.”

They reached the hotel at 7:00am, checked in and a while later she took him to Juhu beach. It was 8:00am and there were people jogging on the beach. Shahid noticed how there were so many chaat stalls. He didn’t want to try it. This was one of the things he had on the “not-to-do-list” that he had made on the flight to Mumbai. But as stubborn as she was, she dragged him to one of the better stalls and had made him eat this spicy paanipuri that made his eyes tear up. But he admitted to her later that he liked it a lot and would eat more of it if it could somehow it could be a little less spicy.

Later that day they visited the Prithvi Theatre and watched a play called “Black Monday” which was about these tenants in a society who belonged to different castes. It was a great example of the cultural and religious backgrounds and the differences that arise among people due to the diversity, she told him. She explained how all around the city, the diversity was just an amazing experience, how everyone celebrated every festival collectively.

After the play he asked Anastasia, “Does the religious difference create so much of a conflict?”

"You will be surprised but this actually depends on the area and the political influence that rules it.”

And she explained to him about the Shiv Sena and how they influence people, the turmoil they cause only to degrade other religions. She also told him about places like Bandra, Vakola used to have majority of Catholics earlier and how it changed. People of so many different castes lived there now. And the more she told him, the less prejudiced he became.

Shahid Ijaz had never lived in his home country, which wasn’t too different from India. When he decided he was going to fly down to Mumbai, the city of a million dreams, he got so many mixed opinions from people. Some of them really sounded as a good-enough reason for him to not visit the place. But he knew that he had to go there because he hadn’t seen Anastasia for so long. People told him things like,

“…the poverty is so saddening...the country isn’t advanced enough…”

“…the pollution will definitely get to you. Sometimes you can hardly breathe!”

“Most of the people are so lazy and the rest are mostly illiterate. People over there don’t even know how to speak clear English!”

“…don’t eat the road-side food at all. And chaat is something you must simply not try.”

“…don’t get me started on the English accent!”

But Shahid noticed that so many people speak the English language well enough for him to understand. He was actually sad that he never tried learning Hindi although it was supposed to be his first language. The city was so technologically advanced that even the paan-waala had a sophisticated mobile device. The chaat he had eaten with Anastasia was something he had never tasted before! These Mumbaikars, as they called themselves, wake at 6:00 am, get to work, school and wherever they have to be. Hence, in his books, they were the least lazy people. Yes, the poverty made him sad and the pollution made him choke. But the way he had seen the city function that Tuesday, made him realize that the one-week that he was going to spend in the city was going to be too less to discover more of the wonderful things this city had to offer. And it wasn’t only the major landmarks, which Anastasia promised to show him the next day that he was excited about.

‘Next time I come to Mumbai, I’m staying for month at least.’