As the day turns !

She sits straight, her lean frame not quite filling the chair. The mirror looks larger than life. A typical woman's dresser this is - a few skin creams, hair brushes and combs neatly sorted into a tall wicker basket, a few exotic bottles of perfume stand proud; Chanel, Christian Dior, Estee Lauder. They look to distract her, those glistening bottles with mystical coloured liquids with aromas which will fill up the room. Today however, they do not catch her eye. She digs into her dresser drawer and pulls out an pouch. Black cowhide leather with a silver zipper and a metal brand logo on the zip hook; The intertwined LV is not unknown - Louis Vuitton. She scrambles through its contents and pulls out a golden tube clearly marked concealer. She dabs on little dots starting under her eyes and moves on to different sections of her face. A few times of dabbing with the make up pad and the skin is clear. A cover layer of foundation - one tone lighter than skin colour they say, and her skin is perfect. A dash of kohl to brighten up her eyes and some bright gloss on her lips. She is now content with her face.

She shuffles through her wardrobe and picks out her straight legged jeans; figure hugging one may add. They feel snug - good choice. A full sleeve black tee makes it way out next. The thought of facing hot Indian summer does cross her mind but no bother. Now dressed to take on the day, she makes her way to the living room where her little daughter is happily munching on her toast, smudges of strawberry jam smeared on her face, fingers and some on the table too. The little one smiles wide revealing a gap in a mouth where there should have been two front teeth. "Look Mamma, she says; I am all dressed today and waiting for you. You are late today". The little one's naughty smile is hard to ignore, "yes baby, Mamma is late... and you are a good girl. Hurry and finish eating; it's time for school." The little one runs into her arms and while she is being lifted, her mamma groans; "what happened mamma" and her mamma smiles and replies "you are becoming a big girl darling, mamma is not strong to carry you". The drive to school was filled with the little one's chatter - from singing to a popular film song to stories about school and friends. She glances from time to time at the little one through the Oakley sunglasses and absentmindedly responds to her questions. Once she is dropped off, her day begins.She heads out to the local super market to pick up ingredients for the day's menu. She looks through the veggies sections hunting for the freshest produce. Chicken for her little one who loves it so much is next on her list. A few other items are dropped into the shopping cart and its off to the cash counter. On her way back as she stops at the signal, she looks at the little children begging on the road and her mind rushes back to her little one. How would that little one manage without her, she wonders and then immediately brushes that thought off. She is uneasy as she drives back, she struggles at every signal to adjust herself in her seat. As she steps of her car, carrying her grocery bags, the scarf stays around her neck and sunglasses on her face. "She thinks she is some celebrity", the neighbours snicker behind her back.

She gets through her day; cleaning her home, getting the meals ready etc. She has help but she wants to do it herself. She needs the distraction she thinks, the mind needs to be occupied. The minutes and hours on the clock seem to be flying by and the little one comes skipping home. The until now silent house is filled with laughter again. The world seems different again, with music and dancing and giggles. She always looks forward to all the time she has with her little one. As the skies grow dark, she feeds her little one and puts her to bed while narrating stories of princes and princesses and happiness in a land far far away.

Her mind's uneasiness begins to surge again. The feeling is not unfamiliar; it is a daily occurrence. The knot in her stomach grows heavier. As she washes the makeup off her face, the marks are visible now. The bruises have changed colour under the layer of makeup and through the day; a tinge of purple now. Smiling hurts her but she had to. As she changes into her night clothes, the burn mark on her right hand from her hand being held under hot water is evident. Tears fill up her eyes as she looks at it and remembers how she struggles to carry her little one. Her back reveals vertical lines, the leather belt has left signs from last night and some nights prior to that. She shudders as her eyes fall on the grandfather clock. It is almost 9 pm. He will be home anytime; she worries, I wonder what his mood will be like; will his eyes be burning with rage like last night.. Will he be drunk like last night when he lashed at me with his belt and then simply passed out on the bed ... I wonder what will irk him today, the items at the dinner table today or the clothes I am wearing or just the look of my face. What ordinary household item will turn into a tool of torture for me ? What about me angers him to a point beyond sensibility where beating me seems like the only option ... I cannot scream else my little one will wake; she does not need to see this. The tears don't stop as she replays every scenario from last night, the bruises never stop hurting, she struggles to breathe. She wants to find a corner to hide but it never helps; she wants it to stop but it never does.

As her mind continues to imagine what fresh hell is going to fall upon her tonight, the door bell rings... he's here !!

Gym shim.. Glam sham !!

My Reebok "reeflex" shoes are out, I have changed into my non branded tracks and my faithful company tee and glance at my watch - it's work out time. It is the start to my 60 odd minutes of profuse sweating, constantly self motivating thoughts and more than ever, thoughts of the junk food I will eat once I am out.

But that's me, I am a different species in the gym. No make up, hair pulled back and completely messily tied up, semi worn out tracks and ultra loose tee; That's right I am not one of the glamorous ones. I see too many of those around me, it's brilliant to observe. They walk in with their Michael Kors bag and an additional original Nike/ Puma/ or some other designer gym bag. I had to add original coz I carry a Reebok bag too which I got for Rs 200. Reebok, really ??? I watch these women, chatting away in the locker room as they carefully apply their kajal - Maybelline vs L'Oreal .. the real test is if it survives your work out session, says one girl, as she dabs on NYX lip gloss. Dolly Pink, she clarifies; and then she points to the pink band on her tracks. Matching-Matching. By now I am ready and set to hit the floor but I hang back. The conversation and sight is too interesting to let go. So I fiddle around in my gym bag, looking for a lost something. Eyes in the bag, ears on the conversation !!

It's similar to the back stage of a fashion show. Now that we are done with make up, we move to hair. Now my gym bag contains the basic necessities - a towel, a face wash, a change of tee probably and a water bottle. But as I mentioned before , different species. Here as they loosen their hair bands, out jumps a hair straightener from their bag to settle their almost straight non frizzy hair. Now this sight makes me pull out all the tic tac clips i have hidden in my bag and strap down every strand of loose hair. God forbid, they stray off and these girlies turn their hair straighteners at me. By this point I have wasted enough time and head off onto the floor. My ipod is hooked on and the treadmill is switched on - the run begins. As I huff and puff in to minute 5 of my run, the corner of my eye catches the giggling bunch walking in, as they read jokes off their iphone. One finds an empty treadmill next to me and begins her work out. 30 seconds in and her iphone rings louder than the gym's stereo system. "Ohhh heyyy whatsss uppp... nooo noo not at all busy ... bolo na.." the conversation continues as she strolls on speed 3 on her treadmill. While she looks like barbie doll strolling in the garden, I look like I have been chased by hungry wolves - my tic tac clips are obviously useless in helping to keep hair together, face is turned red and my breathing has turned to gasping for breath. My next treadmill neighbour has finished her conversation and begun her run. Her hair sways as in the shampoo and hair oil ads, gently and perfectly from side to side, not a bead of sweat on her face. Damn her, I mouth and my mind curses her some more.

As I move to the next workout, my neighbour has moved on too - to her next conversation. Damn, I curse her again - the things I can shirk if I had that 24 inch waist ... One hour spinning class it is !!

My top 10 P's !!

Recently my random reading spree took me to an article on 10 P's of Marketing. I suddenly went back to 2008-09 and my B school's one odd marketing class that I sat for. As I now read through the list that extends from product to pricing to packaging ( ... yaawwwnnn); my mind wanders into some of the 10 most important things in my life; now not everything start with a "P".. Tragedy !! But I try nonetheless ... 

1. Patience: Most who know me well enough will say I have been blessed with tons of it. I can put up with the troublesome ones, the boring ones, the repetitive ones, annoying ones (in my head, i wonder why sometimes) but yes i do. It has helped me through the very first job I had - teaching, the second job I had - CSA at the airport dealing with a crazy lot of people and of course my current job !!!

2. Panchatantra & Potter: My books are and always have been a constant and rock steady companion. I may have ignored them but they never left my side. My mother is constantly annoyed with the no of books I buy off Flipkart - her worry being where to keep them. I am overly protective of my books and only a chosen few have the privilege of borrowing them from me. They are my portal to quietly shift into a world of magic and i fail to understand how people do not like to read (aka my sister - she was one of them but  slowly transforming)

3. Photos: You always need evidence of the super life you have; how else would people get jealous :P I imagine my house is going to be filled with memories (= photos), showing the beautiful people and times in my life. I had done up my study table years ago that way - renovation took my study table away but my photos stayed with me and are hunting for their next home to be displayed.

4. Postcards: I am a sucker for the written word. This extends out to the age old and now forgotten system of birthday cards and letters, to the more modern system of email, Facebook posts, Twitter tweets, blog posts, whatsapp/ BBM status and any other media that I have missed/ not started using. I still have a bag full of cards I got from friends, family, random acquaintances from years ago. 

5. Payday: So very important in my life otherwise how would I contribute to the wealth of owners of the million shoes stores and clothing stores. I believe you don't realize the value of payday until you run a house of your own; where anything you want to eat, drink, wear, apply and even show off does not magically appear out of thin air. It appears only when the balance in your bank account disappear. I bow down before thee, my payday god !!

6. Peace: A funda i totally believe "live and let live"; Life for each one is different and if you have extra gyaan in your head; i suggest you chant it out in an empty room. Needless to say i hate altercations. Those noisy ones who make a scene on the street, movie theatres, airports - full thumbs down by me. While I fully standing by complaining when the need arises, i also stand by the art of giving it subtly, effectively and many a times to the right people (read senior managers) - it has worked for me very well.

7. Port wine: For all those who are going "tsk tsk", i suggest you skip to point 8. I love my glass of wine (it could be rum+coke or long island sometimes). A stressful day seems to disappear, people sometimes seem a whole lot more interesting and bearable (it adds to my pot of patience from point 1) and of course its an extra excuse to meet my fav people. 

8. Party: Yes i love a good party too. Who doesn't like to put on a nice dress (read - an excuse to shop sometimes), add a little extra make up, strap on those heels and let your hair down to some super music. 

9. Passport: I am ever thankful to my parents for getting my little blue book done as soon as I was born. It is evidence of the many places I have seen and the waters I have sailed on the big red ship (My dad was in the Merchant Navy). My traveler bug has not left me and I pray it never does. Even though I do not step  out half as much now, the few trips I do take keep the bug in me happy and craving for more.

10. Pamper: I am a big believer of "me" time and also "girlie+me" time. It is much needed given we all work as hard as we do .. don't roll your eyes, i do !!! My mani-pedi, spa visits, lazy brunches, lone time to read, super long afternoon naps - are extremely precious for me.

** list compiled by PP aka Priya Pillai ;) **

One year older ...

My birthday tops my list of celebrations in the year. It is above any Diwali or Christmas and any vacation I may take and therefore September is the best month of them all for me. I am one of those who loves my birthday and more often than not, I begin planning for it myself. It starts with what I would wear = what i need to shop, where i will celebrate, who is going to be there and even sometimes whether I am going to celebrate it at all. Needless to say I love surprises, and I am the easiest one to surprise. I do not go into detective mode when one friend says lets just do dinner, nice and simple; I do not ask extra questions when friends inquire if I have plans with family on the day. Better to tell them my plans, don't you think otherwise how will plan the surprise :D

Age is usually a fact that puts off people from celebrating their birthdays. They do not want to be called one year older. "OLD" is an abuse almost - most still want to be 16. Me.. I do not want to go back to being 16. Why ??? Do you know what I was like when I was 16; not fun really. Fresh out of school and no idea about the world and what I want of it; that was the plain, stupid 16 year old me. Now who wants to go back being the clueless, goal lacking and also importantly penniless me .. Nooo thank you !!!

While I occasionally crib about getting old, age does not bother me. Hell yeah, I am 28 and I am lovin' it. I love every birthday I celebrate and that's my chance to reflect on the year gone by and see all the wonderful things come my way. Fine, so some years bring a few more downs  than ups but the ups do come around. Some things like to stick around year on year - a wavering bank account, a new ( and .. umm failed) diet plan with all the green tea and steamed veggies, a new (and eventually conquered by laziness) exercise regime, a new favourite genre of music, a different style of fashion. Heart breaks or new love adds a spark to the flash back on certain birthdays - then again what would life be with out them right ! Discovering a new place, an fun filled weekend trip, celebrations through the year add so much colour to my year.

My birthday flashback shows me all this and soo much more. However apart from all this, it teaches me one new thing about myself; and this revelation excites me the most. To borrow from my little left knowledge of Psychology, this revelation helps expand the "open" area and narrow down the "blind" as well as the "unknown" quadrants of my Johari Window. This, ladies and gentlemen, is usually the best birthday gift I get and they stick with me. So tell me why wouldn't I be excited about turning one year older !!!

Why u no smile, Mommy

"Why you no smile, mommy ?" - a child's simple question but no answer. Where do I begin, wonders the mother. 

I worry b'coz I am your mommy sweetheart and it is my job to give you the best that I can. It is is very hard to be a parent, I knew this before I became one. However, as I held you, my beautiful bundle of joy in my arms; my joy overtook my worries - the skies seemed ever so blue and birds were chirping louder too. Then reality came rushing in too.

I want to show you that our city is so beautiful and it has so much history associated with it. The badly kept roads and excessive construction may blur your sight to the beauty that exists but rest assured my love they are there. I want to take you for a walk on the beach; because we have a coastline that we boast of in children's geography textbooks. However, the sight of garbage and people's 'who cares' attitude toward this behaviour leaves me dumb founded. I want to hear to shout out in glee as you swing the swings and throw your hands in the air as you come down the slide. But alas my little one, all the parks I frequented as a child have either been brought down to make place for residential towers or remain ignored and uncared for. 

These are still minute issues my dear, I worry most for your safety. The newspapers and news channels, they scare me; they tell me of everything is going wrong in this world. So I worry. It scares me that when I put you into you school bus and send you off, I am not there to make you you are safe from some stranger driver/ conductor/ cleaner. I wonder how you are doing in school; is the teacher bullying you around and treating you wrong. I want to believe people, irrespective of man or woman, will not harm my child. There will be no stalkers, molesters and rapists at any point in your life. But that guarantee I do not have. I want to get you to believe that people are good; that mankind has not forgotten being human. Why does this seem rather difficult ?

I do know this much though, you are more precious than life itself for me. I will be by your side even when you think I am not there. It is my job to keep you safe and a job at which I refuse to fail. I will smile when I see you giggle innocently, your happiness will make all my worries go away. I promise to keep you smiling always my love... I promise to keep you smiling always !!!

Rain rain dont go away (sometimes)

The monsoons are upon us n of course mixed reactions are evoked in the general public...  now most of us have the usual complaints with the rain - the transport system breaks down,  roads are filthy n flooded etc etc. You would see my nose grow like Pinochhio if I say I dont have the same complaints; however there is something about these rains I absolutely love. Its something I realized while I lived through the regular rain showers of Bangalore. The rain acts as my own personal therapeutic intervention.

I can sit through a rain shower n stare away; a hot cup of chai in hand. The thoughts in my mind start running wild. The rain drops in front of my eyes forcing all those disturbing thoughts to my conscious thinking and an analysis begins begins. I question them, I debate them, I argue with them. I laugh, I cry, I ponder, I make faces. As the discussions in my head get more intense, the rain gets heavy. Crazy right !!! But many a times the solution emerges from that entagled mesh of conflicting ideas. And I wonder how I never thought of this earlier.

The rain slowly clears and my issues fade away tooo. As people rejoice that the shower has come to a halt and they can step out, I say thank the rain for the intervention I needed. Of course I do thank them for going away for a while too so I step out and embrace life with all the joy in me.

Do you do the same ???

My big PHAT family

Do you remember writing a "My Family" essay as a kid ?? I certainly do... There are 4 members in my family  - my father, my mother,me and my younger sister .. lol .. common start line !!! The school essays came n went and my concept of family began to expand. My friends became part it and as the friend circle grew, I began to have multiple families; each one as special and as mad as my immediate family. My stint in Bangalore got me a hostel family, a post hostel family and a very very special PHAT family... 

A super co-incidence that our name initials spelled PHAT; it couldn't get better than that now. It is amazing how each of us found the other and suddenly this little group of 4 was my escape into a world of ridiculous stories, unlimited laughter, interesting anecdotes and some super dinners. The enthu-cutlets that we are, we ransacked Zomato for our monthly secret dinner. I say secret because at max 4 people apart from us knew of our dinner plans and SOMETIMES had the privilege of joining us. Yes yes, you were the privileged  few !!! It is the family you would love to have... the non judgemental, open minded, full of love (and hugs) types; we cribbed, we whined, we drank, we ate, we bitched, we swore, we drank, we ate , we put out our opinions and laid out ideas and what else.. umm.. oh ya, we drank n we ate. Our conversations never end, they spill over to Facebook and whatsapp. 

Professional lives intertwined at different times but this was our secret and it still remains so. There is no proof of our secret meets and people know almost nothing about how we connect... My secret gang of super heroes !!!

klackty klack & all the blah blah

Every weekend I board the (in)famous Mumbai local train to get to my class all the way in South Mumbai from the suburbs. Having stayed away for about 5 years, I thought getting used to the local train again would be as painful as it is for any newbie trying it out. Turns out, I was happily mistaken. Yes the crowds are much larger and there is no real difference between peak and non peak hours. On my first ride (after 2 years easy), I did have to look around a bit to figure where the bunch of women were waiting - indicating that's where the ladies compartment of the train stops. As the train approaches, the tension increases. People are still hanging by the footboard and travelling. The crowd on the platform surges forward, pulling me along with them. I sway with this wave of women, dragging my bag with me to enter that 2nd class compartment. I am in .. Safe ... and what do you know, my bag is entangled on the doorway pole. A 5 second struggle follows, with the women standing around and thoroughly amused. Needless to add, noone helps.

One of the ironies I have always wondered about is the joy of standing on footboard when there is space to stand inside the compartment and sometimes a place to sit. I quietly settle at the corner of a regular train bench already occupied by 3 women. I get no dirty looks; its normal - with no regard to the size of the women, their bags or the bench there's always room for a fourth (or ninth in case of the longer bench). I pull out my iPod and plug my ears with the sounds of Pitbull; I assume it will let my mind drift and not bother about what is happening around me. Sadly mistaken !!! The volume of my iPod cannot overpower the sound of 4 women chatting around me. The topic on the floor was the great woes of the household with special focus on the saasuma (aka Saasuji, Saans & mother in law). As my music is drowned by stories of how one women is tired of only making aloo sabji coz that's what the saasumaa wants everyday, the other interjects and dismisses the story as regular..."that's nothing to complain about... meri saans toh daayan hai"; As the story telling session begins, out comes a pack of fruits and a knife - a snack is needed. We go past Bandra station n I am a silent listener, intrigued by the story of the daayan mother in law; the one who is feeding her grand child chocolates after every meal, making it a bad habit for the child, who pretends to fall sick every third day and blames it on the daughter in law's (aka our narrator's) cooking . I get to know how the husband prefers coming home late rather than being party to these arguments in the house. By this time, the arguments take a different course. This is the time the saans and bahu of the reel life (read TV soaps) take center stage in our narrator's home. The arguments turn to defending the behaviours of their on screen counterparts ".. aaj kal ki bahu; koi izzat nahi hai"... The other women in the group nod and agree with their friend - it seems the scene is the same in every household. Their admiration of the TV soaps depicting their real life story is evident and definitely amusing.

It is now about 30 minutes later and I can see the train pulling into Churchgate. The remaining fruit is packed up along with the knife and put away in the bag. The women adjust their sarees and pick up their belongings. As the train stops, they disperse, probably meeting next on their way back home. As for me, I zigzag between the crowd and rush to class; awaiting my ride back and all the stories that come with it.

Dus ka tees !!!

Some of my earliest memories of going to the movies was at the good ol' single screen theaters. Those were the times before the dawn of the multiplex theaters. At the time, our movie outings usually happened in town. Town is what we Mumbaikars call south Mumbai. Sterling cinema I remember was oh soo cool. My first few English movies (as far as i remember) as a child - Home Alone, Jurassic Park, Free Willy etc. Sterling cinema was also,a t the time one of the the only cinema houses in Mumbai with Dolby Digital sound system. Fancy, ehh !!!

The single screen theater charm is hard to resist. It gave people the complete movie going experience. We would experience the movie as the film maker intended for us to. Of course back then there was no other choice. No one knew the luxury of multiplexes with their fancy food, super air conditioning and comfy seating. I hear many actors, directors etc still visit single screen theaters on the day of the release to see the reaction of the audience there.

Have you been to a theater where when Aamir Khan is waiting to face that last ball in 'Lagaan'; you see the theater going dead silent in prayer and then rejoicing on the victory like we have been crowned world champions ?? Have you ever been inspired to dance the Salman Khan moves in a theater because half the janta have gotten up and decided to turn it into a dance floor ?? Ever heard the public woot and whistle when the girls in Chakde India beat up that bunch of boys as SRK watches  on ?? I have had some of these experiences and many more. I am sure many would agree and swear by these too. Single screen theaters were a delight for us poor, broke college who wanted to escape the shackles of college lectures. God bless those 10 am shows; 40/ 50 bucks tickets and our day was made. Of course, who can forget those 'black' guys - and I don't mean the race. You know the fellows in the crowds (movies depict them as full on taporis - rem Aamir Khan in Rangeela), the ones who go "dus ka tees", "dus ka tees"... Yeah they were saviours when a show was 'housefull' and you just didn't want to come back another day. Pay a little extra and you not only get the tickets but sometimes they could assure you corner seats.. "corner seat madam, koi nahi dekh sakta"; so much happiness for those couples who are deprived of privacy in this country.

The multiplexes brought in this big wave of change. They exposed us to cleaner theaters, better food, cushy & comfy seats (almost fully reclining seats in some), swanky bathrooms. Yeah, they spoiled us !!! But we all like to sneak back to those long gone memories once in a while. I did, just yesterday.The single screen theaters may be revamped  and a whole lot different from 10/ 12 years ago but the joy of still paying 60 bucks a ticket for the 10 a show ... priceless !!!