how do you say ghyeun tak in French?

There is so much you can learn from people. Especially if the people who you meet come from different backgrounds than yours. There is a great cultural exchange and it leaves everybody much richer. I blogged about this some days back – when we got friendly with our French neighbor - Andy. She was this massive lady who was in India on a secondment and was with us for 6 months. We only got to know her in the last two months and got pretty friendly. She was sweet and she was open. Open to sharing and open to learning. When both collide it makes for a great conversation.

We had good fun moments along the way as well. I realized by talking to her how racist we can get. She spoke about how being a racist is frowned upon and in meetings it is a complete no no. I realized that one has to try and stop being a racist everywhere to be truly neutral. In one office meeting one guy very insensitively spoke about the M word. A lot of us if office are actually racist and see Muslims as different from ‘us’ all. They give into the hype and they are completely taken in by it. When I was much younger I have seen the Mumbai riots and I fell to the fallacy of us versus them. It took me many years to come out and tell myself and the world – screw you. Stop being a racist. I keep arguing that it’s not a religious issue but for many it’s a social issue. The marginalized take to crime and brotherhood as they probably have no other option. If they are given stability and opportunity, crime will automatically fall. In every city there is a pocket of crime and marginalization. The more we propagate the cliché the more it will stick. It becomes self-fulfilling prophesy. In meetings I see people talk loosely about it. In one meeting a senior person spoke disparagingly about Muslims. It was just after my many conversations with Andy where she spoke about ticking a colleague off for being racist. Inspired I ticked him off – I told him you are being a racist. The conversation ended. I think it’s a start. This will take time but people will have to realize not be so. There are different people in this world. Their culture may differ from yours. It is up to us to be sensitive to all of them. To embrace this difference and enjoy them. It’s tough at many times, but to accept and to enjoy the difference is the first step to growing up and learning.

I keep looking out for titles to watch with Jispa. I want her to expand her scope of films to enjoy. So I think about movies I watched as a kid and try to get her to enjoy them. One such movie was Escape through Victory. Almost everyone my age and above would remember this movie. It was a Doordarshan favorite. English movies would be played typically on Friday evening at around 10. This movie was about a POW camp in WW2. Here the POWs have a match with the German national team to prove to the Germans themselves about the Aryan supremacy. With Stallone as a goalie and Pele playing a role as well, the movie quickly achieved cult status when I was a kid. I remember Pele doing a bicycle kick to score. So when I saw it at the library I brought it home. We called Andy to watch it along with us. Andy hails from Lyon in France and it seems Lyon was the base for the underground resistance during the German occupation in WW2. Andy’s family was also involved and at some level a few were even captured and executed. So her perspective was very real and very vivid as compared to anything I might have heard or read before. About how after her grand mom’s death, they found a cupboard stacked full of sugar. She knew that in war Sugar will be heavily rationed, the spectre of the cold war always loomed. In the movie at the end, thanks to the brutal German play and the one sided referring, the crowd goes behind the POW team and they start singing. Thanks to Andy after all these years I understood the significance of the act. Andy started singing along with them. They started singing the French national Anthem.

Then Andy explained the anthem (La Marseillaise) to us. And wow what a rousing violent anthem it is. Here is one part:

Grab your weapons, citizens!
Form your batallions!
Let us march! Let us march!
May impure blood
Water our fields

No wonder you can sing it at a football pitch and expect the team to kill and maim. In contrast the Indian anthem plays on as an ode to peace brotherhood and harmony. Not that I have anything against it but it’s not what I want to play and listen and imbibe before a sports event. You would need a different song.

And immediately I was in charge of doing an anthem for the Puneri Paltan kabaddi team. My brief to the lyrists and composer was simple – the French national anthem. I want the people to feel the passion, the beat the lyrics must inspire to kill , to attack and to maim… no brother hood here.

An excerpt:

Kasske pakkad,
jamm ke jhappat,
Todun, modun, gheyun taak!

The song came out amazing and then I spoke to Andy about it and told her how she inspired me to do this song!

Once the video comes out, I will put it up.

But its fun to have learnt so much and already begun to apply it everywhere… that’s the fun of cultures crossing and meeting. And our elders, idiots that they are still insist on opposing cross cultural love marriages…

…

Full French anthem and the Puneri Paltan anthem as follows.

La Marseillaise

Let's go children of the fatherland,
The day of glory has arrived!
Against us tyranny's
Bloody flag is raised! (repeat)
In the countryside, do you hear
The roaring of these fierce soldiers?
They come right to our arms
To slit the throats of our sons, our friends!

Refrain

Grab your weapons, citizens!
Form your batallions!
Let us march! Let us march!
May impure blood
Water our fields!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

This horde of slaves, traitors, plotting kings,
What do they want?
For whom these vile shackles,
These long-prepared irons? (repeat)
Frenchmen, for us, oh! what an insult!
What emotions that must excite!
It is us that they dare to consider
Returning to ancient slavery!

What! These foreign troops
Would make laws in our home!
What! These mercenary phalanxes
Would bring down our proud warriors! (repeat)
Good Lord! By chained hands
Our brows would bend beneath the yoke!
Vile despots would become
The masters of our fate!

Tremble, tyrants! and you, traitors,
The disgrace of all groups,
Tremble! Your parricidal plans
Will finally pay the price! (repeat)
Everyone is a soldier to fight you,
If they fall, our young heros,
France will make more,
Ready to battle you!

Frenchmen, as magnanimous warriors,
Bear or hold back your blows!
Spare these sad victims,
Regretfully arming against us. (repeat)
But not these bloodthirsty despots,
But not these accomplices of Bouillé,
All of these animals who, without pity,
Tear their mother's breast to pieces!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sacred love of France,
Lead, support our avenging arms!
Liberty, beloved Liberty,
Fight with your defenders! (repeat)
Under our flags, let victory
Hasten to your manly tones!
May your dying enemies
See your triumph and our glory!

Refrain

We will enter the pit
When our elders are no longer there;
There, we will find their dust
And the traces of their virtues. (repeat)
Much less eager to outlive them
Than to share their casket,
We will have the sublime pride
Of avenging them or following them!

Refrain

--

Puneri Paltan theme song

Eh kass ke pakkad,
jamm ke jhappat,
todun, phodun, gheyun taak!

Kabbadi kabbadi Kabbadi kabbadi (2)

Kab kab kab Kabbadi kabbadi
Kab kab kab Kabbadi kabbadi
Kab kab kab Kabbadi kabbadi

Eh Puneri Paltan aaliiiii (tutaari)

Arre chodenge na…
arre modenge ha…

Hey chodenge na…
arre modenge ha..
inn lakeeron se aagein hai apna jahaan (2)

Rokein humein,
aisa kissmein hai dum,
na bacchega koi,
mitti ki kassam…

Chyaa maaila gheyun tak!
eh sodu nakko!
ek phodun tak!

(Chorus)
Kasske pakkad,
jamm ke jhappat,
Todun, modun, gheyun taak! (3)

Aasma kar dekhle,
kiss mein kitna zor hain,
Chingaariyaan nahi,
hum bhaddakti aag hai!

Ragon mein daudti, (hey)
zidd jeet ki, (hey)
bas khel hi nahi
yeh mahayudh hai (2)

Chyaa maaila gheyun tak!
Kasske pakkad,
jamm ke jhappat,
Todun, modun, gheyun taak! (3)

Puneri Puneri Puneri Puneri (2)
eh majhi Puneri Paltan aali aali re (4)

Todun, modun, gheyun taak!

A nautch lower

There was a marriage I got invited for. This guy was a sweet IT guy who left the firm to start his own business. A sweet guy. I was happy when he specially sent a card for me and spoke to me. Of course I would come for his wedding. In morning I was explaining to someone that it’s my philosophy that I typically go to these kid’s weddings. I don’t mind bunking a big expensive wedding but I would go for a small simple wedding. My colleague thought that was pretty cool of me – that I am not affected by status or something like that. I thought a bit and said – nopes. I think you are wrong. I am affected by status. Therefore I go to a wedding of the guy who may be of a lower status. So that I feel invited and special. In a big man’s wedding all are called. You are just some small fish.

But to be true to myself – I rather go where my presence means something to someone. I don’t like going for any weddings. They are a really boring chore.

Our servant since  seven years recently became a grandmother. She invited us to a ceremony a few weeks post the delivery. That day in the evening we completely forgot about it and realized only late at around 9 pm. Jasmine called her if we could come and she welcomed us. She stays in a hut under a bridge. We reached the settlement and her son was waiting for us. We were welcomed inside. It was a small tin room with a fan and almost nothing else. A gas stove in the side with a few vessels was the kitchen. A room made inside the shed was the privacy of the young couple. It felt nice to go. We were obviously the big guys coming in. as Devki (our servant) played with her gand daughter she said to her – look who’s come. Refereeing to Jispa  - she said – see your sister has come. You will go to her house an dplay and learn. She stays in the big buildings.

Clearly it was important for us to come. That is what is important when you attend functions. Is your presence a significant to the person inviting. So many times the invite is just for formality. They invite because it’s just a part of protocol. But when someone like the IT guy, who invited because he felt it would be nice for me to come, then I would love to go.

Coming back to Devki. I asked her a few days later – who else came from the buildings. She said only you guys came. The other lady is not like that. She won’t come. She then said sorry Devki. What sorry I ask. She didn’t want to come to the hutments. Jasmine and I looked at each other. Whew. Its good we remembered at the fag end of the day. Otherwise she would have kicked us as well.

Seeing a hutment where people live is always a bit humbling and I was happy that we took Jispa along. Then only can you get a sense of what privileges we have. We take a lot for granted and we as bankers have no idea what the people really want. Devki has the keys to our house. She comes in the evening, does the work and leaves. But crucially the keys to our house are also the keys to her bank. She keeps er money in a pouch in our house. She has kept a few of her jewelry also with us. She also has stored a few gifts of her grandchild. We are her bank and safe deposit locker. She takes loans from us, deposits and withdraws money and keeps valuables safe. When we think of what the people need what we realize that they need a simple place to keep things safe. Her stuff is not under lock and key and it’s not even worth breaking into my house for. It’s almost nothing to us but a lot for her. She has no use for an ATM or a cheque or working hours of a bank. All she needs is a key. But we give keys only to those people who don’t really need it.

Poverty is a curse and it inflicts itself again and again on people. These guys remain poor because of the system as also by the choices they make / forced to make. Just one statistic floored me. She says in the month or so after the birth of her grand child – she has ended up spending around 25 thousand bucks. Consider this to the fact that she did not have to spend any money on the birth, courtesy the government health service. And she spent around 7 grand on the function we were invited to. Seven grand on food/colas and other stuff. Crazy! That’s the money I told you want for you grand kid when she grows up and goes to school. Save it!

Poverty is a state of mind I guess. Something must have struck my grandfather when he was the only kid that decided to study and go beyond his village. He came to Mumbai and became a doctor. His dad was a humble grocer in a small village in Gujarat. He paved the way for prosperity for his generations to follow.  Moving out of the poverty trap is not just working hard, its also thinking hard. Devki works as hard as any one of us, but as she tells – when her son got married she blew a lot of money in the village on the function – including a nautch girl to dance. It seems including her payment and booze – it cost her 800 bucks. Now her relatives want her to come and organize another celebration. I am keen to go to her village and witness it first-hand. That would be another interesting subject for a travelogue.

 

not just any dental date

A ha the fun of having a computer while roaming around. I started writing this post while waiting for the most mundane. I am outside my dentist’s clinic. Well it’s not like I am a regular at the dentist, so I can’t really call her ‘my’ dentist. In fact I can’t remember the last time I was at the dentist. Recently Jasmine had got her root canal done and it cost us a bomb. Root canals do cost a lot and jasmine cant go to the community dentists so she ended up going to a dental studio. She finds the hygiene standards at the community run clinics a bit dodgy. As for me, I am game for practically anything. I have very low hygiene standards and I am known to pick wafers off the floor, dust them or blow some air and eat them. You know that typical guy thing. I look at it as a more macho thing... something like it builds immunity. So keep having it. In any case , there is enough shit in the atmosphere so you are like going to get enough of your germs just like that. A few friendly ones you pick up from the floor or the around will only help you. Hah!
This dentist in any case was a special visit. My elders weren’t and aren’t on the best of terms so we cousins don’t end up meeting too often. My generation couldn’t care less for the property disputes of our elders. But thanks to that we have never been very close. Compund that with the fact that we stay nuclear and os we have even less functions to go to. So basically we are almost cut off from our gene pool. My immediate siblings never understood the fights that our uncles and aunties had and we swore never to let money come in the way ever. Never to let protocol come in the way as well. life is too short to bicker over lesser issues.
So while I was placed in nariman point I used to get to the train everyday and there happily enough I once saw what looked my niece. I wasn’t very sure till she came up and asked me ‘wasn’t I her jaimit kaka’. Err yes. That was fun. Everyday in the morning you get to meet your niece. She is a happy fun person and it was pretty cool talking to her. She was studying to be a dentist. She passed out a few years ago and has started practising in some clinic. So when yesterday I felt a bit of pain in my teeth I used the opportunity to catch up with my favourite niece. Disclaimer – given that I hardly know any of my other nieces, itnot a great achievement. Hah! That was written as while we were talking about the fact that I had my computer open, she figured I blog. I have never tried to popularise my blog. Its been an open but a quite thing. If you know about it then fine. Else even better. So as she said she would one read it, I thought I would be nice and mean to her. I am always mean to her and pulling her leg.
In fact she is 26 and like all happy Indian gujju households, her mom is after her to get married. I don’t understand this marriage scare business. What there to get scared of marriage and commitment? Well its obviously easy for me to say that, as I obviously found someone to get married to. But I got married at 23 and had a child by the time I was 27. It did seem a bit young but I loved it. Today at 35 I have an eight year old. Soon at 40 she should be 13 a mini adult and hopefully I won’t be old and fuddy duddy. I can run with her, play with her and hopefully compete with her. She has already smashed me in swimming. I am waiting to have her taekwondo and squash skills develop so that I can play that as well with her. it would be a bit difficult if I was a bit older.
So our poor dentist niece has a poor role model to look up to. She is not exactly enthused with the prospect of getting married and I keep telling many youths like her that its not that bad. Sometimes all I do is just explain the superficial behaviour they sometimes exhibit. Something like rejecting this guy as she speaks with a local accent or he wears a printed shirt or something. The tables have changed and how... I guess my mom would not have had much say in choosing her husband, but I am happy that we Indians are slowly allowing our daughter to have a greater say. I guess now the pressure is put not physically but emotionally to say yes to a guy of the parents liking. Nice.
So while she explained her exasperation at the various guys she was seeing and choosing from (all crap according to her) , I gently nudged her to a marriage portal. It’s an interesting disintermediation. When these portals made an appearance around a decade ago I thought they would be all sleaze and the last resort for old unmarried / divorced men and women. I started looking at it with a little more respect when I heard that one of my friends met his wife through this portal. Interesting. You see profiles, you approach, you chat a bit, you become facebook friends and then you meet up and figure. Cool nah. Its a bit like dating. And the parents are now open to this new concept as well. I met one lady who I interviewed some time ago. She said she is a maharashtrian who family was after her to get married. So she went online and registered herself and met this guy who was a gujarati. Then she set it up herself and met the guys and decided to get married. All this I came to know when I asked her if her marriage was love or arranged. And she said sort of love. If you see the story I kind of agree with her. is that within the definition of love marriage or arranged marriage. A new term needs to be invented for this stuff – loranged. That sounds a bit like deranged? How about Arrove. Ya... you arrange the match and then you love and then you marry.
Like I was telling my niece – go on and register yourself. See some male profiles, check them out. a bit like ‘body shopping’. In the traditional sphere the women used to feel like they are on display with the men coming in to meet and ‘grade’ them. Now the game is more equal I guess. Men and women have equal body shopping rights! Yay yay!
These are small steps to a new world. That’s why I have so much faith in the Indian dream playing out. Women – we haven’t factored the rise of the women in this economic dream. Their rise gives me great confidence.
So in the end my niece was disappointed. I had no reason for her to give me any degree of pain. My teeth were in fine form and my molars were well and truly filled with the old silver cavities long ago. There wasn’t much to fill in. No root canal that she could recommend and not even a teeny weeny cavity. She would get her revenge on some other day. Tada!

as good as it gets

One of my favourite bloggers put in a comment on the last post I had. She said that she felt my blog was reassuring, having just watched Blue Valentine and that she was also nervous about the future. Though she is nowhere near as dramatic, the post reminds me (though not directly) of a lot of young students that I meet while teaching as well as not so young turks at work (though all younger than me). When I talk about myself and Jasmine and the relationship I share, they go like – you guys are an inspiration or you guys are ‘IT’, you guys are so lucky to have found each other and many other such words.
While earlier when I was much younger I would beam with pride, as if Jasmine and I were Cupid’s special children. But as I got older and hopefully wiser, somehow these comments did not have the same reaction from me.
I have thought a lot about this many times. Jasmine and I are not the perfect couple. We are nowhere near the perfect couple. It’s not that we hold hands all the time or that we always agree on everything or that we don’t disagree on anything or by any metric you think of. We are as diverse a couple that can be. But we fight as hard as others, of course less than some others. The way she reacts to my anger irks me even more and my thought process is completely different from her. We have disagreements and everything else that normal couples have. We agree to a few basic things, such as parenting is the most important thing in our lives, thrift is a virtue to be celebrated, travel is an important objective, reading is the source of everything and we trust each other completely with spending. Everything else seems open to disagreement.
So we can’t be as blessed as Cupid would want us to be. So what’s it that makes us tick or I would put it – stand out. While I met a lot of younger folks and spoke to them, I think one theory kept popping into my mind. That’s it. It’s got to be the theory – it’s as simple as I started my college in 1991 and that was about the time I started going around with Jasmine.
What’s with that sexy date? That’s the year liberalisation started in India. We then started getting access to a lot of brands and products that were till then only found in the suitcases of foreign returned cousins. We watched foreign shows on video cassettes smuggled into India. Basically I thought and I have blogged about it, that pre 1991, we were a starved naked nation. English movies were being played in a handful of cinema halls such as Regal/ Sterling or Eros. A good movie with great reviews would be the destination for the family once or twice a year or at best four times a year. But to my mind the biggest thing was TV. Door Darshan was the state owned broadcaster who would have prime time of one hour everyday sandwiched between the Hindi and English news. It provided wholesome family entertainment, aimed at enhancing, maintain and strengthening family values and bonds.
I entered college with no brands and locally run cable TV and exited my studies in 98 with a proliferation of brands and channels. I saw MTV, Star and the rest entering with English dominated programming and quickly moving to the local language.
So what’s that got to do with my marriage? I think it’s pretty simple. Those days not too many couples would be going around. While the boys would have loved to, the girls were coy about accepting proposals and couples would generally keep their relationship largely secretive. The odds of being slapped if found out was very large. There would curbs on freedom, friends and pocket money. It was seen as a stupid distraction and was generally frowned upon. “I did not send you to college to have an affair young one”. So generally those days, couples were a rarity and they really had to fight all odds to keep the relationship alive. Nosey brothers, parents, neighbours and the lot who would look at the first chance to snitch and spoil your life. It was especially difficult for the girl’s side of the equation. Also catching private moments together was so difficult. There were no coffee shops to hang around and chat. We would have no access to cars to go for a long drive. Meeting each other would be only during the official stay out of house hours, which would mean – college hours. No cell phones and no internet would also mean absolute cut off when you say bye. You decided the next time and place well before you said your goodbyes. Hell I couldn’t even ever go to Jasmine’s house nor call her until our relationship was officially accepted. Four hard years of agonising. Jasmine would make random excuses and get friends to attribute my gifts to. Crazy man! Absolute nightmare.
We would live in the mortal fear of being found out. wow. Real tense days. Things eased up considerably after 91 for the rest of the batches. Batch after batch came in with different outlooks, a more modern sense of dressing and a progressive attitude. In my time, not many would wear jeans to college, with many wearing salwars and in traditional day the women would wear sarees. Today on traditional day the women wear salwars. To mind, the liberalisation brought about a change in attitude as Indians came increasingly aligned to the world. Cable and Satellite TV penetration (in one research) shows correlated strongly with the improvement of living standards of the women in India. At least a lot of metro India is now open to a whole host of things. Women working is one of them. It is considered lesser of a privilege and more of a right, which it should be.
The tension I felt in those days while courting jasmine is visibly missing. My THEORY and its only that MY THEORY is that when we of old were going around, there was no time to think about compatibility. You loved someone and it was for life. A woman could fall in love once and any more was not considered normal. A man would also commit largely forever. And when you were going around the external pressures were so high that I don’t think we ever looked inwards. What you mean by ‘making a relationship work’. Of course it worked. You said the ‘love’ word right. Done. Get married, have kids and carry on your life.
When my students come up to me and tell me that they are going around, I say great; so you getting married to the guy? I don’t know is the common reply. It took me some time to reconcile myself to this answer. What you mean you don’t know. You are going around right? Now I realise that people are tuned to a lot more things in the relationship. Things that I did not understand are basic stuff like compatibility, space, individuality. I did not understand it then and I am only able to understand it out of my context. For us, her friends are my friends and my friends are her friends. Whatever permission we got to stay out of home was used to stay with each other. What is private space? Each moment away I would be dying to talk or meet her as there was a complete cut off from each other.
I guess it’s something like adversity makes people come together, kind of thing. The world was against us and we had only each other. In times like that who can think of luxuries. And I feel lucky.
I entered college with one value system exited seeing another. Our relationship was born in a more conservative system that emphasised staying with each other more than anything else. I think I was able to see the transformation of India while I was between 15 to 23 years old. In Big Town India, the generation was the bridge between the have-nots and the haves. Crucially it gave me the glimpse into tradition and modern values, and allowed us to be imbibed in older values and not be threatened by the newer ones. Because we were in college in those times, we could look at the change and believe we were at the forefront of them and actually believe that it was us leading it. Truth be told, it would have happened irrespective of us. In fact I thought my generation was the soft wimpy one. In Mumbai – college politics were wiped out, drugs were a reduced menace, hip parties were boring and people were thinking getting jobs and getting married. Simple predictable people who just got swept in liberalisation and exited to a world that looked like a candy shop. I proudly bought my dad a pair of Reebok Sandals with my first pay. I had arrived.
So that’s my theory. We were too unsure about the future to be unsure about or relationships. That was the only sure thing we had. I could be wrong and possibly people are right – it is a cupid combination, but I think otherwise. I think both Jasmine and I did think there wasn’t another alternative. So when it has to work, then you don’t have options. You only focus on what works. Possibly if the world was more acceptable of teen relationships or forgiving of break ups, possibly then ... I could have accepted admiration.
When I was playing basketball, I was happy to have simple shoes. Not Reebok or Nike but just decent shoes. I remember my dad buying me a pair of good old ‘Power by Bata’ shoes. When all you needed were black shoes for school and canvas for days you have PE class, a specialised sneaker only to play was as good as it gets.
So I guess all it requires is a simple mindset that says there is no option, but I wouldn’t recommend it at all to Jispa. I would tell her to choose, to think through, to make a few mistakes and go ahead. It will come with its share of insecurities but I don’t think that as we get more ‘modern’ can we be less individualistic. It’s worth every bit of it. You might just miss the old fashioned romance, but you can catch on a few older movies. May I recommend one – it stars Aamir Khan and Madhuri Dixit – Dil. Or possibly the Salman Khan – Maine Pyaar Kiya. Then reassure yourself anew, that you are them and they are not you.

never forget...

A dozen years sounds quite a bit but it does pale in front of 21 years, especially when you are all of 35. Being young brave, foolish and over active hormones does have its advantages. The first words I ever uttered to Jasmine around 21 years ago were in the form of a proposal. Yup she refused but wanted to be friends nevertheless. She never admits to it, but I attribute her counter proposal to my charm and magnetism at the time. I chased her for more than a year (joined her college) and finally got her to agree to go out with me. Oh the perils of youth! Way back in those days a complain from her to her mom about this ‘stalker’ or ‘proposer’ or ‘dumb ass’ would got me kicked and beaten up by her folks and then mine. After 9 years of ups and downs, fights and reconciliations, promises and dreams later we got married. Yippee.
12 years ago we had no clue of the life facing us. All I wanted was 10 grand a month. I had no dream of my own house, or my child or anything. I thought I would do something good and make a honest life working hard. I thought life would be simple and uncomplicated. Relatively uncomplicated atleast. I might have been a bit naïve I guess. Life slapped me hard in the intervening years. Real hard. It also gave me many lessons, many that I have been proud to learn. But I guess I might have been happier never to have learnt. Life’s lessons are always costly. Whenever you learn something you give up your innocence and a part of your heart. Every time your brain increases you heart decreases.
But we do live in such a world don’t we. I never wondered why we do so. It has been our own creation.
Living and learning has taken an amazing toll on me. But it’s largely been my own doing, my own choices. Jasmine has never expected more from me. She has amazingly content and amazing non demanding where my career is concerned. Surely she has been as demanding of me as a family as I might have been of her. But I have never faced the issue of earning enough to keep up with my wife’s dreams. Today itself I was telling someone, Jasmine and I have been like chalk and cheese on many things. I am outgoing and loud and she is quiet and happy to hear. But funnily on so many other things we see to agree very well. Many times we keep thinking that whenever we have made a team to do anything, we generally end up doing it well. Her strengths and mine have been very very different. Also today I might be smart enough to not compete with her, but I think I was lucky that when I did not have that self confidence earlier, it was great that Jasmine never bothered to compete with me. It did not even occur to her. I liken her to a happy cow.
Middle class to the core, she abhors wastage and show of money; yet my biggest fight with respect to expensive things is that whenever I think of splurging on myself, she keeps nudging me to go ahead. I too am a carefull buyer. I like to spend less, not buy by brand tags and like to mull things over and almost covet stuff till I buy it. If I tell about it to Jasmine, she will keep nudging me to buy it and then I get influenced by it. I had to keep telling her not to poke me. I will be happiest if it hit the buy button on my own and not poked into it by her. But then that’s her and that’s me. 12 years of living together as man and wife. And till yesterday we almost forgot about it. A few years ago I genuinely forgot and my wife had to remind me and yesterday I reminded her that it tomorrow (i.e. today).
We are practical minded people who don’t really care about flowers or cakes or presents. We treat ourselves when we want to, where we want to and take buying decisions jointly. On almost everything. So then our surprise gifts are also few and far in between and stuff that we really want in any case. Like I have got perfumes, body wash and swimming googles as surprises and she has once got a towel form me. And all this too has been motivated by Jispa wanting to give something.
Pretty unromantic for ‘childhood sweethearts’? we are both pragmatists I guess.
I can’t close the post without mentioning my favorite line of hers. When I am stressed or worried her words of wisdom always has been ‘don’t take so much stress’. Just that. That’s her solution! Talk about an uncomplicated mind. And see me. A case of opposites reconciling, what say?

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While courting I got a cassette recorded and presented it her. Our favorite song from that is still our favorite song of all time. The concert version especially. We love the part when the crowd sings along. You know it was priest from school who I was pretty close to who suggested that I put it in the cassette. He asked me love songs? Here is a love song! And he even gave me the cassette free of cost and I recorded it on his system. Father Ian Dolton. Thank you sir.

selfish basterd

A good friend got married yesterday and I far exceeded the brief on helping the marriage get on smoothly. I took charge of the catering, driving the fellow around with three ridiculous bouquets on my car and lastly arranging for a sit down dinner for the family after the reception was done. Why did I do all this. I gave myself many explanations during the day. None too plausible, even to me. Today morning I realized why I did this. Do unto other what you expect them to do unto you. Actually it’s more like – don’t do to others what happened to you, try to do to others what you want people to do.
I got married at 23. Young enough to be a nobody with little support, zero ability and very few contacts. Many times in life I got myself a raw deal. I would have loved to be in a situation where I could have built up my box of good wishes to tide me through. I couldn’t even muster up a car to take me to the marriage hall.
I have a memory that records these many little wishes / incidents in my life. Add one more philosophy of not letting others go through what you have been through – there, you get the point. If we simply saw and understood stuff that we wanted, understood what made us happy or sad and implemented this, wouldn’t all of us be happier. I don’t know. I don’t care. It makes me happy and I find it as a release. Doing it, kind of removes a weight off my shoulders. I think I use it a scar removal therapy or something like that. So while everyone might see it as altruistic, I see it more like completely selfish and internally motivated. Hence I am also at unease if someone compliments me on my behavior. It’s not for you. It is selfish, highly so and decidedly so. So don’t compliment me and say good things about me. These are my motivations, my therapy and my release. Stay out it and please let me be. Another complicated one. I am in a weird mood. Potentially life altering :)

grace

2010 is a good time to write some end of year bores. You get them in all papers and just about everywhere. I can’t read one more story on New Year resolutions. But since it’s also the end of a decade, a lot more newsprint gets devoted to rubbish sepia. But for me the year end would mean something special always. This date acts as a proof in my life that being brave and stupid is better than being scared and intelligent. Discretion is not the better part of valour. It was on this date 20 years ago, I first spoke to Jasmine; and the first words were something of a proposal.
After which I have always told would-be-Romeos and would-be-Juliets that if it is in your hearts, bring it to your lips. Better to speak out your heart and face rejection than to think of what could have been.
As a 14 year old my heart was pumping hard and my hormones clouded my brain and I still sometimes wonder what my dad would have done to me if Jasmine had complained instead of being sweet. Also now I wonder what would have happened if I had a tight slap in return? But life knows its destiny and it hurtles towards it. (wisdom of oogway). Just for the record she refused and it took another year and more of following to finally wriggle a yes. (Tenacity? but that is another story).
So I can look back on twenty years and wonder about the various phases we have had together. The first four and half years of being together but hiding from her parents. The next few of being together but slightly unsure about how our life will unfold in terms of career etc. The next few of setting it up. Then Jispa and then the least three years of staying and setting up our nuclear family.
Superficially we are very different but at so many levels we are the same. There seems to be no set formula or philosophy to make it work. I think all it needs is the will to make it work.
God has been good so far. We sometimes wonder when, with him, we will find ourselves afoul.

father of the bride

Two days and two functions to attend. One was a simple marriage ceremony of a simple colleague which was in a simple hall with minimal fuss and décor. The other was a massive celebration of the fact that a friend’s kid (friend’s brothers actually) completed five years and hence was able to finally shave his hair! Yeah yeah. The latter was an elaborate affair with three separate functions, all done in the splendour of an elaborate ceremony. What on earth? I keep thinking that one day Jispa will grow up. I have tried to keep aside some money for her for her education but have no money set aside for her marriage. It’s a complete waste. Jasmine and I are in a way quite ‘practicallists’ who don’t understand the value of splendour. We are the cheapo who have not celebrated her first birthday. Our reasoning being she was too small to figure anything. In all these functions the baby is inevitably harassed by the lights, the attention and the noise.
On all her birthdays we take Jispa and some of her key friends for a fun outing and ensure that the occasion is celebrated in a small but hopefully meaningful way. Jasmine has also struck a deal with Jispa that she will celebrate her 10th birthday in any way she chooses.
So when she grows up I am planning to oppose every prospective groom that comes our way. This way she will be forced to elope and then I could forgive all and call them back. Imagine the money we would save in the bargain. And the pain… has anyone seen the movie ‘father of the bride’, I might just fit the archetype. Only one issue – I have to figure out a way to go white before I go bald.

Mangala ho

Mangalsutra not a must for Hindu marriage: High Court - saying it was not mandatory for the groom to tie a 'mangalsutra' around the bride's neck to prove a marriage between Hindus.
People take anything to the court. Jasmine does not wear any symbol of marriage (and neither do I). In fact I don’t even remember if I tied a mangalsutra. Might have... might not have, but one thing is for sure, she doesn’t roam around with it. I don’t remember if we gave her an engagement ring also. And the ring I got for my marriage is practically unwearable. It’s that ugly.
The story of that ring goes thus – Jasmine’s mom wanted to take my measurement to get me a ring. I refused to give the measurement saying I don’t want a ring. Why don’t they just take Jasmine’s measurement and give the dam ring to her. At least it will get worn. Also I didn’t particularly like the concept of getting anything from the bride’s family. My theory was simple. You can give whatever you want to her, spare me. I don’t even want to know. Then when I reached home my mom asked me “you didn’t give your measurement?” “No, how did you know?” “They called” “ya, I told them to give the ring to Jasmine. I don’t want any of it”. Mom figured it’s a futile argument with me. Dad took me aside and spoke something to this effect “I understand and appreciate your values. But also do realize that their parents have certain aspirations and dreams. Sometimes it does not make sense to fight it. You can always give the ring back to Jasmine. No body forces you to wear it.” … hmmmm… penny drops. I give measurement. I get a hideous ring in return. A golden ring with nine diamonds on it. I am not wearing that one for sure. What a waste of emotion.
Coming back to marriage symbols. I never did want Jasmine to wear any symbol that showed her betrothal to the world. It’s her choice. No sindoor, no ring, no mangalsutra, no nose ring.. On our honeymoon, she was in denims, t shirts and a back pack. So was I. Since this trip was not immediately after the marriage there was no mehendi on her hands as well. Amongst the places we visited was a beautiful temple village called Jageshwar in Kumaon. A very pretty temple complex amongst huge Deodhar trees. With very few devotees there was no jostling around the sanctum sanctorum while the evening puja was happening. We were along with one more couple inside. After the puja, we were making our way towards the hotel when the other couple (locals from around) offered us a lift to the hotel. While we got talking the guy asked me “are you guys hindus?” “yup we are” Jainism could loosely be called Hinduism I guess. “aaa, don’t mind, but is she… uu.. are you married?” “ya. She is my wife” “sorry, we were only asking because we were wondering because there is no sindoor, no mangalsutra, no nose ring, no…” I could only laugh. I told them we don’t have anything like that and we don’t really believe in it. What to do?