What is it with us Indians and elevators? I was at a mall yesterday waiting for the elevator and in those 5 minutes of waiting went from happy after watching a movie to absolutely disgusted that I decided to even step outside my house. Here’s why:
1. Aunty, once the elevator button has been pressed the sensible thing to do is to wait. Repeatedly pressing the button will not miraculously make the elevator appear at a faster speed.
2. Dear mother-of-a-young-girl-whom-you-are-influencing-with-your-bad-actions, people who are waiting outside the elevator door are not crazy to be standing there. They are doing so because they want to get in when the elevator gets there. Randomly barging in from somewhere and pretending to not notice anyone else is so not cool.
3. Hello severely overweight uncle, the elevators have a weight limit for a reason. Waiting a few extra minutes for the elevator to come back to you is not going to change a thing, it would have saved my toe from getting crushed for sure.
4. Dear young couple, congratulations on being young and being in love and all that. Kindly refrain from showering physical love on each other in an elevator filled with other people. I certainly do not want to witness any sort of public diaplay of love and affection between strangers.
5. Dear bored Aunty, will it kill you to wait for a few minutes before asking your husband what he would like for dinner tonight? You almost screamed into my ear in the process of ensuring that your husband, who by the way was absolutely disinterested in listening to you, answers your question on the menu.
When will we ever learn?!?
So much pretence all around, gets to me. Aren’t you tired of pretending to be a friend? Pretending to care? Pretending to be concerned? Why waste so much energy on doing something that you clearly don’t enjoy doing.
With age I’m glad I’ve reached a stage where I can say with clarity and certainty that I don’t care if you like me or not, I don’t care if you invite me to your parties or not, I don’t care if you chose to call someone else to share happiness/sadness over me, and I genuinely don’t care if you decide to stop liking me 😛 I’m sure you have your reasons.
This age is a great thing, it puts a lot of things in perspective. So much of what we run after in our ‘younger’ days suddenly seems so futile now.
I’m thankful for the things I have, work hard for what I want, and enjoy the moments that I get with those who matter. So I can safely say I’m in a happy place as of now.
My sincere advice to you is to do the same. Try and be happy with yourself and your immediate circle. Don’t be someone you wouldn’t like to bump into.
I think I was born with long hair, I cannot imagine a time in my life when my hair was short and I am sure if you have known me even for a few minutes you will agree 😁
So, gathering a whole lot of courage I chopped off some (read many) inches from my long hair. Why did I do that? Let me tell you. A picture from a play I acted in a decade ago was posted on Facebook a few days ago. Many of my friends saw it, liked it, and even commented on it. One friend said, “is that you ten years ago? You look the same.” Now, that could be a good thing. But it left me wondering why I looked the same 😳
I have always wanted to try something new with my hair but the fear of what ‘people’ might say always held me back. I guess growing older has some benefits after all. I’m not really so fussed about what ‘people’ might say/think.
So here’s wishing me a happy 32nd 😘 have a great year cause you deserve it.
There is this lovely Aunty who comes in diligently every other day to the gym and just before she starts her work out weighs herself, which is great. What I fail to understand is why she chooses to weigh herself on her way out as well. After walking at 4.5km/hr for approximately 20 odd minutes and a few minutes of stretches later not much of weight loss would have happened.
Then there is another lovely aunty ji who insists and I must reiterate the insist, on working out only with the AC on. Even if the weather is stupendous. She walks in with a bottle of water, and a hand towel. Keeps them on the table near the entrance and proceeds to shut the windows and turns on the air conditioning. She never checks with the others if they would prefer the windows open or not. She has decided for everyone else in the gym. Now because she is working on the cross trainer which is positioned right below the ac, Aunty doesn’t need the hand towel at all 😁
Did you know that the only cabaret song that Lata Mangeshkar sang was ‘ Aa Jaane Ja’. Now this piece of trivia I got to know from the gym. You wonder how. The above mentioned aunty ji besides shutting the windows, also changes the radio station to one that ONLY plays music from before my era. So a group of uncle ji’s come in at 6.15 am and one of them is a huge trivia fan. He walks in when Lata Mangeshkar was singing and he immediately said to his buddies, “Lata’s only cabaret song this is.” The others nodded and exclaimed with great interest.
As you can see I have very interesting tales to share from my work outs each morning 😁😁
June 19th is going to be celebrated as Father’s Day, and perhaps the timing of this piece is just right. I have a huge issue and today I’m going to address that here today.
I was out for dinner with a few girlfriends a couple of nights ago and happened to mention this in passing to another friend who immediately asked where the kids were. “At home, where else?” I said. “Oh, you are so lucky. ‘K’ is able to babysit them so well in your absence. That too both the boys,” she said. I smiled and said nothing. Then ofcourse there is always the ‘friendly’ aunty in the park who is over enthusiastic in her praises for ‘K’. What a wonderful father he is, he plays with the boys so well, he is always looking out for them in the park especially when ‘R’ is riding his cycle, she always says to me when she manages to corner me in the lift.
I keep thinking of all these statements that are made to me and wonder what I am to say. Yes, my husband, the father of my sons is extremely hands on and can manage the boys just as well and sometimes even better than I can. I have no qualms in openly accepting it and why should I? Parenting should be gender agnostic and in our household we truly practise it.
K changes diapers, makes the boys sleep, constructively engages with them, reads to them, feeds them, and does pretty much everything that I do. Sometimes even my parents are slightly aghast at how easily K ‘handles’ the boys, but shouldn’t he be easy with them is my point. They are his kids too after all. So why all the fuss?
Next time someone tells me I am so lucky, I am going to say a few not so nice things to them, so make sure you don’t say it to me.
Characteristically people from the south are different from those up north. I don’t know why but it’s true. Food habits could perhaps have something to do with it. Those from the south eat less of foods that lead to aggression and anger. But I’m not sure that’s entirely a valid argument.
Last week we were travelling from Madras to Madurai. The flight we were on also had the super famous and sought after movie director Mani Ratnam travelling with his wife and actor Suhasini Ratnam. Now if it was Delhi one would have seen staff from the airline hovering around, loaders carrying their bags, a special coach to take them to the aircraft etc, what happened in Madras was so nice so see.
The couple checked in, picked up their bags, cleared security, and stood in the same coach that was taking everyone else to the aircraft. No tamasha, no pomp and show.
I went saree shopping when I was in Madras, after having shopped I walked out of the shop with one small bag in my hand. The staff appointed by the shop came running to carry the bag and put it into the car for me. I politely refused saying I was fully capable of carrying it to the car myself. The man smiled and bowed down and said his job was to ensure that customers left the shop happy.
I’m mentioning this because I rarely see this trait in the shops in Delhi. It shouldn’t matter if I bought stuff for ₹1,000 or ₹1,00,000/-. But in Delhi it would. If I spent a large chunk of money then I’m sure the owners/those managing the shop would go all out to please me. That’s not the story here. Each customer for them is important. I’m offered a cup of kaapi immaterial of the amount of money I end up spending in the shop.
So much for the north to learn from the south in this aspect. Stay calm, North!
Here comes a confession – I do not like sharing my help. What does that mean you wonder. A couple of days ago my cook came and told me she was asked by a neighbour/friend to work at their house too. I wasn’t happy but didn’t say anything just yet.
I mulled over it for two whole days, chewed my husband’s brains until he said, “if it is bothering you so much, I’d suggest you tell the cook you are not okay with the arrangement.” Since this was just the advice I wanted, two days later I broached the subject with the cook.
“If you want to work there please do, but that won’t work for me,” I told her. All the while hoping she’d say she wanted to continue working in our household and would give that new job up. Thankfully she said just that. My logic behind not wanting to share help amongst friends is all the chatter that travels from one house to the other.
Inadvertently ‘news’ from one house always trickles into the other and I completely detest that. I like talking and sharing with friends but at the same time I also love the privacy I have within my home and would hate to see that be disturbed.
For the same reason I am also very guarded about my doctors. Some doctors have a habit of getting all chatty and saying, “oh, your friend was here yesterday.” I really don’t want to know and for sure not from the doctor.
Ungenerous you may call me, but I do have my reasons in place, don’t I?