FAITH…LOVE…RESPECT

When FAITH’s mother saw her face for the first time she was struck by her perfect face. And when she opened her eyes to the world, they were the most soulfully melancholic eyes. Her mother shuddered…

While Faith was growing up, she was a disciplined kid. She was good in studies and extra-curricular activities. But what always bothered her parents was that she never had any friends. She was an obedient child, a sincere student, and no one ever complained about her. She was petite and soft-spoken, and there was something that always scared her. Her mother would sit by her bedside at night, and while running her hand down her daughter’s fragile forehead she would shudder at the thought of what’s in store for her in future. Faith was soo frail and vulnerable, how will she face the harsh world outside…

One fine day Faith came home from school with two friends – Love & Respect. Her parents were pleasantly surprised on seeing their daughter’s friends. Her mother asked the girls to sit and went inside to get something for them to eat. While she served freshly baked cake and cookies to the girls, she noticed that Love was the most beautiful girl she had ever set her eyes on. She looked so perfect, it seemed like God had made her so that everyone can love her. Anyone who sees her cannot but want to look at her forever and ever. But her eyes were filled with so much pain. Suddenly her mother’s heart swelled with sorrow. She quickly said a quick prayer for the girls. Respect however was a little different than the other two girls. She looks matured, spoke less and always had her chin up. She spoke little but always had the last word.

The girls went down to the garden to play. Faith’s mother settled on the portico with her knitting. She could hear the girls giggling and calling out to each other. She smiled to herself and tried recollecting when was the last time she had she seen her daughter so happy and jovial. Just while she was lost in her happy thoughts, the most unbelievable incident happened in front of her.

On the field where the girls were playing, a little deer cub was writhing in pain, while two young leopards dragged it to the bushes. The little girls saw this and ran towards the animals. While Faith reached out to the deer cub, who immediately held onto her as if her life depended on her, Respect slowly but steadily walked towards the leopards. The angry beasts stepped back a little and growled, but the little girl did not stop. She reached out to the leopards and placed her palm on each of their head. The moment she did that, the animals cowered and bent their heads in reverence. Respect then sat down in front of them and whispered something in their ears. The wild beasts, bent their heads and ran towards the jungle. In the meanwhile Faith collected the fragile little deer and very lovingly rocked her gently back and forth. Tears streamed down her cheeks, as she prayed for the little one. She knew that she had to save the poor creature somehow, and the only way she believed she could do that was to pray.

While Faith held on to the cub, Love sat next to her and very slowly and lovingly ran her hand over the baby deer. She kept caressing the frightened and hurt animal. Then she slowly picked up the cub and kissed it. And immediately as if like magic, the deer cub sprung to life. It moved towards Love and thrust its soft head playfully in her lap. Seeing this the three friends laughed out loud and hugged the deer. They picked the baby deer and took her to the jungle where they could leave it with her parents.

Faith’s mother saw this entire episode dumbstruck. She couldn’t believe what she saw. But she was not afraid, or sad, instead her heart swelled with pride. Faith was no longer just her little daughter, she belonged to the universe…..and the universe belonged to her. A silent tear rolled down her cheek, as she closed her eyes to say a silent prayer to keep the girls safe and together. Because she knew that, as long as they are together the world will be a happy place…

Gleaming Silver Strands

It was like any other morning. Once Kunal (my husband) went to office I glanced through the newspaper and went for a bath. It is then that it happened. While I was washing my face I suddenly saw the 2 ‘gleaming silver strands’. First I didn’t realize, or maybe I didn’t want to realize. But then a light breeze came in and the ‘gleaming silver strand’ fell on my face. I was taken aback for a second, not because I have never seen them before. But because I have never seen them on me. I lightly touched it…felt it…and smiled.

Do not ask me why I smiled….because even I’m trying to figure that out. It was a ‘Happy-Sad’ feeling. I was happy because somehow those 2 gleaming strands of white hair on my head gave me a sense of (false) wisdom. It was different. The feeling can be best described as the one I used to have as a kid when after my mom went for her afternoon nap I wore her slippers,  her round red bindi, and acted as a grown-up in front of the mirror. It used to be my favourite game. After almost 24 years, today standing in front of the bathroom mirror I felt the same rush. The rush of growing up…or should I say now growing old!

The irony here is that while I was happy of growing up….I was sad too for growing up. Till today I never perhaps had felt such strongly opposite feelings for the same reason. I was sad obviously because like any other woman, I’m mortally afraid of old age, wrinkles, pigmentation (I know Olay & Botox are here now…but still). But apart from this I could not think of anything that will make me sad. ‘Woow’…does this mean that I’m not afraid to grow old. I surprised myself by answering ‘No’ to this question. It sounded too good to be true, but here it was. I looked straight into my eyes in the mirror and said ‘No’.

And why should I, or anyone else be? Isn’t this a natural process of our life cycle. Then what is the big deal about all these ‘mid-life crisis’, ’40 is the new 20’ and so on. 40 is 40 and that’s what it should be. Why create this whole illusion about starting to enjoy life at 40, when you can always enjoy life. Yes, I agree that there are things you can do at 20, which you cannot do at 40. But aren't there things that you can do at 40 that you could not even dream of when you were 20. Like, being independent, raising a family and being proud parents. Having a life well-lived, and dreams achieved!

Standing on my 28^th year with 2 grey hair on my head…I feel much more confident and full-filled than I had when I was 18. Yes, I agree that 10 years back I had dreams in my eyes…and was happy dreaming about everything that I wanted to do. Those days had their charm, when you did not know what lay ahead of you…and the thought of future gave you goose bumps. I'm a single child, and belong to a very conservative Bengali joint-family. Like any other teenager I always dreamt of being independant, of making my parents proud and living life on my own terms. I got this oppurtunity when I got a job in Mumbai and had to shift to the 'City of Dreams'. The 'rosy picture' of staying away from my family (finally) that my young eyes had dreamt of, soon turned into a 'not-so-rosy reality'. Life away from the protective arms of my parents was hard. For the first 2 months, I cried every night. I fought alone, fell down, got bruised...but rose up again. And that is what age teaches you to do.

While my young eyes helped me dream the impossible...my growing years made me capable of achieving those dreams. And as I moved on in life slowly but steadily ticking against some of those dreams…I feel much confident and happy now. I feel that I have earned these two ‘gleaming silver strands’, and I’m proud of them!

Music is to be Felt…not Seen

The power of music transcends all boundaries....

I have heard and read this line some million times….but understood the real meaning of on Saturday, 26^th May, 2012. The day started off crazily. We got tickets to the AR Rahman concert. It was my first live concert of the maestro…..and I was visibly excited! We left around 11:30 AM from Pune, picked up our friends and headed towards D.Y Patil Stadium in Navi Mumbai. The drive was not really a pleasant one, all thanks to the gruelling heat. But our excitement and anxiety (of reaching there on time to collect the tickets) made us forget the scorching sun. 

We reached there much before time, all thanks to my hubby’s aspiration to participate in F1 someday! We collected our tickets around 3.30 PM and then the wait began. Finally around 6:00 PM we entered the stadium. Once inside we were awestruck seeing the entire set up. The stage was grand with four platforms for the supporting singers and musicians to sit. It had 2 huge ramps and an extensive LED Wall covering the entire background of the stage. The lights were amazing with special laser effects. We were simply mesmerised. 

Just while we were soaking in the grandeur of the place I saw something that brought me back to reality. Two rows in front of us a middle-aged man was holding the hand of his friend (that’s what he looked like) and carefully maneuvering his way through the crowd towards his seat. The man was wearing thick black glasses and had a walking stick on this other hand. He very clearly was not blessed with the gift of vision. Yet he was here in a concert to ‘see’ AR Rahman performing live. For a moment I forgot all about the extravaganza of the stage and light and tried thinking why we are all here. Why have 30,000 people come together at this stadium today? They have come here to ‘see’ music…but in reality music cannot be seen, it can only be ‘felt’. While 29,999 people have come to see the concert…ONE man has come to experience music. I looked all around me. Everyone around was busy buying soft-drinks, popcorns, samosas and clicking picture of the stadium. While this man was sitting still…getting ready to experience the ‘Magic’.

Looking at him reminded me of my childhood memories. My mother is an amazing singer. She studied Rabindra-sangeet (Tagore’s song) from Shantiniketan. In my eyes, she is one of the best singers that I have ever come across. Since her priority in life was to take care of her family and her daughter, she had never pursued singing as her career ever. Singing for her was more like an escape into her Eutopia. I still remember, whenever she used to sing, she always had her eyes closed. In so many years I had never seen her sing with her eys open. I always wondered why she would do that. Today I realised…while singing she always experienced music and felt it from her soul. It took her to a different world where the existing world ceased to be. 

Once the concert started and the maestro took over the stage…it was a fantastic experience. He sang most of his famous songs and kept the audience singing, swaying and humming to his tune. Throughout these 3 hours every time I looked at this man at the corner seat he reminded me of the ‘tranquil tree shade in a grueling hot day’. Slowly nodding his head he was soaking in all the rhythm and music. 

The day will always be one of the most memorable day in my life not because I had for the first time seen the legendary music-director performing on stage, but also because the way I realised a very simple truth of life, that Music is always to be felt…and not to be seen!

Soul Musings

It was a pouring heavily outside as me and my friend rushed into a popular café joint at MG Road in Pune. The place was relatively empty, it being a weekday. Just as we were waiting for our steaming cup of coffee, I saw a middle-aged lady entering the café. Following her was an elderly man. There was something striking about them, I cannot say what. Maybe something in their eyes….or their face…or their smile! They entered, and though the café was almost empty, they went straight to a corner of the room, which was less ventured by the people, because it was behind this big standee, and one needs to jump cross this huge metal stand to go on the other side. They looked very happy doing this small stunt, as the gentleman held the lady and helped her cross, almost like young college couples getting the reclusive corner seat in a theatre. By this time I was much fascinated by this couple (that's what they looked like). They sat face-to-face, and within seconds were deeply immersed in conversation. From where I was sitting, I could see both of them. They were both animatedly talking to each other about something, could not make out what (listening to that would have been eavesdropping). But there was something striking about them…their eyes. There was so much warmth, care and love for each other. Just at this instant, I snapped back into reality, what am I thinking? Am I out of my head? I don't even know these strangers, and here I'm building up a story out of them. Then I realized that my friend had so long been sitting and saying something, which I had not even bothered to listen. I gathered up all my concentration and focused on her. She was complaining about her 'Bai', who is never turning up to work on time, and her 'Boss', who has driven all her happiness out of the window, and her children, who  ever allow her a minute of rest….stories of OUR life! While listening to these heart-wrenching stories of my friend and trying hard to sympathise with her, something…or someone from deep within me said aloud

– “What do you think you are doing, lady?”

I was zapped, who is this? I hurriedly looked around me, but there was no one. But I clearly heard someone, or so I thought. Am I losing my head? My mom always predicted I would, coz I apparently always used to talk to myself. But today for the first time, someone else apart from me is also talking. Whose voice can this be?

“I'm YOU”, replied the voice from within again. “I'm your Soul, someone who is always been with you through your ups and down. Have laughed and cried and rejoiced with you. Have shared all your secrets, but never spoken a word. But today I had to speak.”

To this I could hear myself meekly mumbling, “Why today?”, I made sure that my friend, sitting right across me cannot hear me, so I pretended to be speaking on the phone.

“Well, today because you're stopping yourself from being who you really are, and I cannot any longer allow you that”.

I was quite amused by now, “What did I do?”, I asked.

“Well, look at the lady in blue at the corner table”.

I looked up and saw the same lady, who is now leaning on the table and laughing like a little girl, arefree and full of life.

“What can you see?”, asked the voice again.

Now I looked closely, she must be 48, or 49. But the glow on her face and the glint in her eyes overshadowed her age. Then I turned to the gentleman. He must be around 56, with grey hair and a charming smile. His face and eyes emitted a sense of peace and calm. It was like standing still on a busy road-junction, with fast-paced cars zooming around you and people walking and talking in a fast mechanical manner.

By now, my friend had to go and collect her kids from their dance classes. So she stood up to leave. But I didn't want to. Today I will have to listen to the voice from within, I have ignored her for a long time now…..no more. So, now I'm all by myself, sitting alone and sipping my 2^nd cup of coffee, listening to the musings of my Soul.

'So what did you see?”, the voice asked me.

I took a deep breath, and said, “I can see Love, pure and unconditional, the kind we don't see much around nowadays. The kind that can sweep you off your feet and take you to the world of your dreams. I do not know what relationship they share; they can be husband & wife, very good old friends, office colleagues, estranged lovers or blood relatives. But one thing I know about them is that both of them are gifted with the most powerful gift of God – the power to Love!”, I paused, almost breathless.

For about a minute or more, there was no response. I could hear some college students chattering and laughing aloud from behind me. A little girl was running around the shop with her Winnie-the-Pooh, the couple was still sitting at their corner, lost in each other. But the voice that I wanted to hear was silent. I got scared. 'Are you with me?” I whispered.

“Yes”, came the reply from a distance. “Do you really believe this?”

I was silent, because I didn't know what to rely. The voice continued, “Young lady, may I ask you to please take some time off your busy life to just stand and stare. Stop worrying about the pending office work, the upcoming meeting, what to cook for dinner, and so on. Instead, think of the last time you had spent a few moments with your loved ones, saying or doing nothing, just being there for them. Think of the last time you had called your Dad, to say you have reached home safely, so that he does not worry. Think of the last time you have picked up your Mom's favourite flower and kept it beside her bed. These are simple things, much simpler than taking time off and going shopping with friends. But these simple things show that you care. These are little nothings that can make your loved ones feel special. But how many times have you done it?”

 I could feel tears streaming down my cheeks, but I made no effort to wipe them off.

The voice continued, “You said that the couple sitting at the corner of the café is gifted with the power of Love. But ain't we all? Yes, we do. It's just that some are lucky to explore it, and others live their whole life thinking that – 'Ohh, she's so lucky to have Love in her life, but I don't'. But it is not so. It's just that our life in the fast lanes have made us so engrossed with ourselves that we have forgotten about the 'gift of Love', and the wonders that it can bring to us. Success, money and fame have blinded us. It takes us minutes to fall in love, and seconds to fall out of it. That is because we are too obsessed with ourselves, and without realizing we stop caring about the other person/people in our life.”

By now I was sobbing uncontrollably, and realized it only when the little girl with the Winnie, stood and stared at me. I rushed to the washroom. When I came back, I saw a small cake on the couples' table, and the lady was blowing a candle, as the man looked on lovingly. I called the waiter and asked him, if it was her birthday, to which he replied that they are celebrating their 26^th Anniversary.

I paid the bill slowly and walked up to their table. Both of them looked up. “Congratulations, 26 years must have been quite a journey”, I said.

“Yeah”, the gentleman replied, “We grew 26 years younger with each other”.

First Love….

For all the people (mostly women) who dearly cherishes the memories of their ‘first love’, this article might take them down the memory lane and bring back that long lost shy and innocent smile back on their faces. At least it did to me and reason why I’m sitting down to write this. Maybe it has got something to do with the month of February…there’s love in the air and song in the heart! Suddenly while carrying on with the household chores today an old memory, like a naughty child happy to be out of the confine of its mother’s protecting arms peaked into my mind. I stood still for a moment…and smiled.

Ohh…it seems like it all happened in a different life…so far far away from now.  Being 16 is the best thing that can happen to anyone.

Every 16 year old though begs to differ! It is a time of life when, you are a rebel, your head is dizzy with dreams and your eyes full of hope. You want to cry at the drop of a hat, but hide your tears from the world. At this juncture in life when someone gives you the much-needed shoulder to cry on, he becomes your ‘Knight in shining armor’. Life suddenly becomes ‘less-troubled’ and a glimpse of your ‘Chocolate soldier’ makes you forget all the worries. How simple was life and non-complicated were the ways of the mind.

It was the time when to forget your heartaches and problems all you needed was a smile from your Prince Charming. The hassles of nicotine, ayurvedic massages, yoga or meditation belonged to a different planet. Your planet just revolved around ‘the time spent with him, while bunking maths tuition’ or ‘the stolen glance exchanged at the bus stop’. Every line in ‘Mills & Boon’ seemed like its taken from your life…and you seem to be forever in love. And then there were the series of ‘first-times’ ….first time he said how good you look…first time he ‘accidentally’ touched your arms….first time you held hands.

Years down the line many might not remember the last name of their ‘Rhett Butler’, but they will always remember the feeling. The feeling of your spirits soaring high when you sat on his bike, your arms carefully encircling him, and your head on his shoulder. My spirits didn’t reach that high even when I sat on the flight for the first time. The sudden rush down the spine, and the goose bumps are precious because they only happen when you are in love for the first time. Many might cringe their nose and say that, 16 is too early to fall in love. I agree.

But 16 is never to early to ‘fall in love with Love’....

Babies from the heart....

"You were born from my heart"...this was the answer that Sushmita Sen had given to her daughter Renee, when the later asked her if she came from her mother's tummy.

Babies from the heart or adopted babies is not a new concept in our country. But still somewhere deep down they are not accepted as openly as biological babies are. Oprah Winfrey once said, "Biology is the least of what makes someone a mother". Anyone can give birth, but what is important is how you grow up to be a mother. I was reading a book by Nandini Sengupta called 'Babies from the heart'. The writer who is an adopted parent, talks about the joys and anguish of adoption in India.

Adoption is still predominantly seen as the only option for parents who are unable to have their own biological children. While reading the book couple of questions kept bothering me. Why can't parents with their own biological kids adopt? Why does adoption always have to be the last option for childless couples? When will we be able to sit on the other side of the table and think beyond our own selfish interests? We bring home a baby because we cannot have our own, not because we want to give the baby a loving & secured life, and the warmth of a family.

My maths may not be that great, but I can confidently deduce that if out of 10 couples in India, 2 chooses to adopt 1 kid, we will not need orphanages in our country. We will not have kids without adequate food, shelter and education fighting alone in this 'big bad world' world for no fault of their own.

Well, I accept its easier said than done. The entire process of adoption is a complex roller-coaster ride, both emotianaly and socialy. Our society is still not matured enough to accept adoption. I still remember something my mother told me when someone in my family went for adoption. She said "You cannot fit in a skin of some other tree onto your own". At that point, I revolted, and gave her a long gyaan. But now when I sit back and think, I realise that revolting is not the right thing to do. What we have to do is to educate people around us. 

Babies are god's gift to mankind whether they are born bilogically or are from the heart....

  

The day Santa fulfilled my dream...

Many of you reading this might not believe in Santa...but I do. And maybe after reading this you will know why.

On 25th December 2011 my dream came true. The day started like any other Christmas day. My beloved Santa (post marriage I have 2 Santa-s) very religiously kept a present at my bedside. We had a lazy morning, followed by lunch with my uncle, aunt and cousin. The afternoon was spent chatting and catching up with all of them. Post lunch we went to our brother's place at NIBM, to see my niece who was not keeping well. We had no plans of going to their place, but thought that the little girl had been not keeping well for couple of days and maybe will feel better if we go and see her. 

I still had no idea what surprise was waiting for me....

Tubuni (my niece) was very sick and down with viral fever. We spent couple of hours with her, and just while we were about to leave my sister-in-law told me that Pandit Birju Maharaj ji will be coming to perform in their school that evening. I couldn't believe my ears! He's the person I have been wanting to see since I was 3 years old and went for my first Kathak class. Everytime I used to hear his name or even see him on screen I would feel the blood rush through my veins. Maharaj ji will be performing in Delhi Public School as part of a workshop for the young students. I knew I could not miss this opportunity...and so I requested Kunal to stay back till the function gets over....and he obliged (as usual).

It was 8 PM and we went to see the dance recital. I still couldn't believe this was happening to me...till the time I saw Maharaj ji coming on stage. I do not know how you feel when you see God in front of you....may be just like how I felt when I saw him on stage, just a few meters ahead of me. All I knew was my vision became blurred and tears kept rolling down my cheek. One after the other he performed the 'Thaat', 'Gat', 'Ladi', and 'Tihai'....in his mesmerizing style. I had learnt Kathak for almost 20 years, and at that moment I felt like my years of dedication has finally yielded result. At the same time, somewhere deep down I felt bad about being completely detached from something that was so close to my heart & soul.

Once the performance was over I ran back stage, and somehow slipped through the authorities and touched Maharaj ji's feet. Could I have asked for more....not only did I see my God, I touched him too.

I must have been a real good girl last year, and hence Santa gave me the best gift I could dream of!