of weddings

copyright-Arpana Ananth

That perfect wedding.

The wedding that is a culmination of months of planning, and years of dreaming.

The bridal attire, the flowers, the coy looks, the over-eager relatives, the usual gaggle of aunties and the melee of teenagers, of beauty parlour trips, and yoga sessions, of hours of standing in front of the mirror finding that perfect angle, of shy glances and loving welcomes .... the wedding, that is a single united dream of so many people; made a reality of many more people.

Finally, then, there is the anticlimax. the "bidaai" or the going away of the bride to her wedded home. Of letting go all that was once hers, to step into a new house - hoping to find a home there, of giving up her parents, parts of her identity even, to a new set of people - hoping to find a family there, of fears and insecurity, and of wanting to be accepted.

All of which roll down as tears down her eyes as she leaves the familiar and leaves in search of well, the "new" familiar - if you would like to call it.

It always brings tears to the eyes of everyone present. For those tears are washing away the innocence of a daughter, and ushering in the responsibility of a wife.

grey. gray. grey.gray

this episode. the girl. the mother, the nanny.

this is me. this is my daughter. and I hate it.

It should be me. me. and not some nanny who hasnt given birth to her.
me who loves her, me, whose reflection she is. she has my eyes. why do they search for the nanny?

enough?

why is it, that you do everything you can, and more. tear yourself out, stretch thin, kill yourself and try and do everything.
but,

its never enough.

it is NEVER FUCKIN ENOUGH!

un-love

She looked at her computer. For a moment, everything was just nothing. All those words, all that had happened, all that hurt. Nothing mattered.

Rationality was, as if nonexistent. She had thrown everything out of the mental window. her eyes blurred with her unshed tears. as she touched that little red dot next to his name on the messenger, she realised all that she would ever have, was this. a little red dot that taunted her, for now, he belonged to someone else. Apparently, he loved her. He no longer loved her now. She did not exist in his universe. Apparently, now, he was just a red dot in her universe. 

musing.

It seems like all we do is spend time. Whatever happened to living?

Are we sold a rosier picture of life just to ensure that we dont give up on it? Or is it something that we need to be doing, that we have forgotten now?

This drab grey thing, this unmoving, unemotional and unexciting thing with us, cannot be life. Or Is It?

random

bored. word-blocked.

someone from google california (well, atleast that's the place the statcounter points to) reads my blog every single effing day. all my past posts. meticulously!. Wow.

Dude you deserve like a major cash prize or something (and I dont give out cash easy. ask the hubby:P) . do leave a comment, so I can identify my fanboy :P

Exams near. book hasnt been opened since the courier guy delivered it to the doorstep. Notes taken down in the weekend long class have long been used by the daughter to satisfy her growing curiosity.

ennui sets in. forces me to listen to random songs such as these. Force colleague to listen to songs such as these. Laugh at colleagues' disgust. thus has degraded my sense of humor owing to ennui.

Vacation is much needed. keep planning various getaways with several people. as usual, none materialize.

Sigh.

The Big Bang Theory S5 looks damper than the older ones. no relief there either. I want to watch Akki's Joker. Hopefully, that should put some life into me. what say?

In Other TV Soap news -

A child-bride remarries.

A remarriage shatters.

If you, (god forbid) understand what the above statements mean - you MUST tag along when I visit my shrink - you and I, both, my friend are in dire need of his services.

footprints

she looked back. her footprints were washed away by the crashing waves. like almost she hadnt been there at all.

That, there is life. she thought. no one will know for more than a fleeting moment, that you existed.

Whats journey, and what is destination then?

She kept walking along the beach, because - she had nothing else left to do. she lived life, because there was no alternative.

Dante

Perhaps the greatest sorrow is to look back upon happiness from misery.

infatuated

totally infatuated with the sound track of the Dark Knight Rises. In a loop. All day long.

Fitting trilogy. wasnt a fan of the mexican mask wearing over bulky bane of the comic books, but love love love the Bane in the movie. Wow Wow Wow!

The favorite in the trilogy though has to be the Joker. Fine Villain him! Luurrvve him!

Bane is good. but is nowhere near the Joker. The earlier Batman Jokers were exactly that - stupid jokers. Including that stupid movie with Jim Carrey as the joker. Duh-uh.

Miranda Tate was a giveaway. or maybe because I was such a dork that I had already read Knightfall when I was a kid.

Also, maybe because I'm such a dork that I notice details such as when the "kid" escaped the inescapable pit-prison, she had no mask on.

Anyhoo. Would have loved more batman onscreen. more of his bat-mobile, bat-flying-thingamajig and more hand to hand combat. I wanted less of Christian Bale and more of Batman. Duh. Nolan. Take note.

anyhoo. gotta run. Gravy on one burner, roti on the other, and someone from office is pinging me about some random issue!

cya!

forgive and forget?

She was terrified about the thought that crossed her mind.

What if she could never forget? what if she could never forgive? How long would she have to bear the cross of humiliation, and the burden of rage within her?

How long would she have to act as if she had indeed moved on? That was more agonizing that actually admitting that the betrayal still hurt, that the wound was yet raw and the anger still simmered inside.

She wondered how would it be to free of all these emotions for once, to invest herself completely in the life that she had now. To be free of the nagging voice in the head, that as long as she held on to the past, she was cheating the present and the future.

She looked at herself in the mirror, and a tired woman, with dark shadows and bags under her eyes stared back. She looked at the eyes - they held no interest in them. They were just tired with the insomnia. Not a face someone would want to turn around and look at again.

What would it be to have eyes that sparkled with interest again? What would it be to think of a tomorrow and hope and guess what it would have in store?

What if she could never move on? What if the scar was seared into her soul; the betrayal was etched into her psyche so deep that all she could feel now, was rage disgust and a lingering of what once was love?

She sunk into the bed terrified of this thought. And she hated herself for this. All over again.

you

"It was you. only you"

It was the answer she expected to her question.

She had loved the demons he harboured, she loved his faults. she had loved him despite the fact that he couldnt love her back.

she knew him. intimately. physically. spiritually. emotionally. she knew his fears, she knew his little conquests, his quirks and his eccentricities. his pride, his ego and his vanity. she knew them all.

and yet, the answer never came.

It was time. To forget her past. to forget her dream.

what goes around

does come around.

In other news;

how ugly does Priyanka Chopra look in those yellow thingies jumping like a 5 year old Britney? Argh!

Another random Dance With The Stars rip off has Madhuri dancing to those eternal hits. While one agrees she is a diva, no amount of botox can cover up age. Comon!

Everyone is discussing Aishwarya's post pregnancy weight. What about poor everyday fat mothers? For one, I have a repartee every time people comment on my weight. Finally Aishwarya makes herself useful. Huh.

I have an overdose of Anushka Sharma. Comon lady. Leave something to imagination about your acting skills. I'm getting saturated of watching your face.

Pirates' new movie on June 24th. While yours truly has already seen it on the big screen, yet, cant wait for Johnny Depp to hit my big screen at home :D

and the enfant terrible beckons!

double entredre

she called it hormones. she said it was "the time" of the month, when she usually was depressed.

The women around her, agreed. After all, hormones are a crazy bunch they leave you confused when they show themselves, and then they leave you confused when they decide to go hiding again- the chatter lulled to a silence. Each one thinking about her "hormones".

Their "hormones" at home, existed. they could not wish them away. Physical or Emotional, the abuse at home was always given a metaphor. the unshed tears, and the unsaid silences spoke volumes. The implicit understanding of swollen eyes and the broken bangles needed no acknowledgement.

While the men sat complaining about how they weren't treated well at home by the womenfolk, the women sat silent. The silence, the acknowledgement that no matter rich or poor, ugly or beautiful, barren or fertile, illiterate or Doctors, some stories never change; some silences can never be spoken out.

Television Rants

So, my definition of "craziness" involves watching hindi serials - ones that encourage gaudy makeup, hilarious dialogues and houses that look like they are renovated "shaadi ke mantap"

So, I took a break from all the Dexters and Morgans on Starworld and moved to watching punar vivah on Zee TV. While I shall watch endless re-runs of Scrubs and The Big Bang Theory and laugh at their piss poor jokes (JD dreams of a chocolate Turk, and Sheldon calls Sex coitus - ha ha. very funny. ha ha. yeah right!) there are only so many episodes of a Hindi serial I can tolerate. (BTW Im a closet chuck lorre vanity card admirer. I use the freeze button in my remote just so that I can read his sarcastic, and at times insightful vanity cards ... but I digress)

Punar Vivah it is...

There are just so many things wrong with what is being aired on TV - while being touted as a progressive sitcom

1. Remarriage is only an option because kids want both parents in their lives.

2. Remarriage is okay for a widow, but not a divorcee, hence, if you are the in-laws of a divorcee DIL, keep it secret and get her married.

3. Women should remarry, because they cant win all the games that the school conducts on its annual day. Women wear a dupatta that just makes it impossible to win; men on the other hand, with their trousers and moustaches, win random games in a breeze.

4. Men should remarry because their children are late to school everyday. Any other reason to get married again would be blasphemy.

Dos and Donts of remarriage

1. DO keep all the random cliqued snaps that you and your dead wife took just about everywhere, actually, that isnt enough - blow them up life size and put them up just as a political party would adorn its office with images of Gandhi and Nehru

2. DO keep all your dead wife's clothes etc, and keep looking at them once a day. You must remind yourself not to have sex with your new wife. What better way to do so, than to jerk off using your dead wife's clothes?

3. DO NOT hold any communication, either before or after marriage, but let your family (read parents) do the talking. Allow the new member of the family to be implicitly insulted - and you act like you aren't even present.

4. If you are the female - DO NOT communicate with your husband, instead - make your son your "surrogate husband" and smother him with your love.

5. DO get married at the first drop of tears that your son sheds. After all, you don't have a mustache, you are but a woman who cannot win your son's affection.

6. If you are the MIL - worry that your DIL is going to "take away" your son from you, and implicitly insult her when possible.

7. Last but not the least and the most important of all - walk around like a Christmas tree with heavily embroidered sarees and outlandish jewelry; wear gaudy makeup to bed, and leave your hair fluttering in the air, even when you are cooking out-of-this-world dishes.

Once you have all these down pat - you are ready to re-marry. (ensure that your spouse is dead though - you cannot practice polygamy or polyandry - it is still against the law)

Marriagey-Rant

Long time, since anything has been written on this blog. So, we decided it is time for a rant. Yes. Yet again.

Was reading through IHM's blog posts. Came across this post of hers.
She says marriages are "sold" in a "glossy cover" to women, and I could not but disagree. Vehemently disagree.

Marriages arent "sold" to Indian women. Marriages are FORCED upon Indian women. Whether the woman is happy or not post marriage, whether she thinks her life took a turn for the better or not, is a completely different issue.

The statement that if you are a woman, you MUST get married is what irks me the most.

I don't really care for jewelry or sex. Both are over-rated. I have always hated kids, and now, after being a mother of one and having had 2 miscarriages, I still hate kids. I tolerate mine, for the only reason that she is my daughter. I hated my brother when he was a kid.

I am not your perfect candidate for marriage. Yet, here I am, married for the last 3 years. There are times when I think of maybe 30-40 more years of marriage, and all I can do is sigh. It is going to be an effing nightmare.
And, no. My husband isnt your typical MCP (though, he does get MCPish at times), he is a loving caring individual and a even more loving and caring father. Yet, I think of my alternate universe, where I am single, and am free to pursue the career I want, in the city I want to live in, can sleep on any side of the bed, and set the AC at whatever freezing temperature I want to, bathe as long as I want to, and not have to cook everyday. Not have to be a wife everyday, and sigh at the life I have in my present universe.

My mom and grandmom gasp when I say this to them. "How long will an empty house hold allure?" they ask. Maybe it did not, for them. Maybe it does for me. Maybe it does for millions like me. Has anyone given a thought to that?

Every stereotype, every activity that the female child gets involved in, every choice that is made for her, or she is asked to make, leads upto only ONE thing. Marriage.

The girl must earn. Enough to attract suitors, but not as much as to narrow down the universe of suitors who would earn more than her.

The job that the girl holds must have "reasonable" timings - she should be home in time to be able to make coffee for her husband when he comes back from work.

The girl must learn to tolerate - afterall, she has to tolerate the biggest pain of all - labour - doesnt she?

The girl must be educated - she has to teach her husbands SONs tomorrow, but she should keep her mouth shut - because "when elders (read husband and in-laws) say anything, she should know better than to speak"

Damn her independence. Damn her likes and dislikes, Damn her tastes, Damn the way she wants to live in her house. She should learn to adjust. Afterall, isnt it for a "happy married life" that she is adjusting?

IHM says marriage is Sold to women. That statement makes it seem like women have a choice whether to take it or leave it. I think women are sold to marriage.  The only choice they have, is hobsons choice.