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Vande Mataram!!!

In childhood I used to look forward to this day for the apples and biscuits distributed in my school besides performing various patriotic song and dance items. As I grew up, we had flag hoisting in the nearby areas with some elderly person/s reminiscing their experiences during the freedom struggle. Now I am a mother and I take my kids around for various celebrations in the building and the surroundings. Today someone asked why do you gather this day, and I looked at my daughter for an answer and she promptly said ‘because we want to pay respect to our country’s martyrs as they freed us from the British Rule.’

Then suddenly I thought, 64yrs now (36yrs from my birth) and I am still enjoying the freedom from the British Raaj. but am I really free? Am I free from the roving eyes of the lecherous men, am I free of the thought of the safety of my little ones because their gender (look froward to voicing my opinion in the Mumbai slut walk), am I free from the thought that some corrupt neta is pocketing my hard earned money in one of his foreign accounts (plan to fast for at least a day with Anna Hazare to show my solidarity), am I free of the fear of another bomb planted somewhere in the vicinity of my near and dear ones (am soon enrolling myself for combat training), am I free of the thought that this S&P’s downgrading U.S. debt from AAA to AA+ would not affect India so much (will try to hold on the larger expenses planned and probably shift my plans of buying a home to next 10 yrs), am I free of the thought of some natural calamity hitting India besides the political and communal ones (god forbids!!!). It’s my needs in my life that defines my freedom. The more I need of the day to day life, the more I expect from my husband, my kids, my near and dear ones, my company, my community, the leaders, the countries and end up blaming all people around for my failure.

For my kids, do they even look at these things? Freedom for my little ones is to be able to play some hours more like the older kids in the building, my not telling them to follow their timetable after coming home from the school, to be able to remove anything from anywhere from the house and leave them where ever, to shout and jump on the bed and sofas in the house, to watch TV and play games for as long as they want, to order Domino’s Pizzas and Pastas everyday. For them freedom is freedom from their MOM. I am equivalent to the British Raaj who rations and regulates the whats, the wheres, the whens, the whos the whys, the whichs, the hows of their life. Till they are not exposed to the harsh realities of life I am happy being their mother (of all problems).

Vande Mataram!!! Vande Mataram !!!

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The Bug, the Bully, the Belly and the Mumbai Blast

 

For past one month, we have been struggling with a bug and a bully.

After I finished my summer classes for kids, I realized that the sofa in my drawing room started biting me every time I sat over it. I turned over the cushion to realize a tiny little black bug with fresh blood in its belly. Instantly I called for a pest expert to cross verify my fears. Yes they were the scariest of all pests- the ‘Bed Bug’ and they gave me sleepless nights, the nights after till they were sprayed and done with. Luckily the thing had not spread around and pest control service eradicated the bug using a mere handheld herbal spray and…. my life bounced back to normal (and we still wondering who got this pest in my house).

The bully in my daughter’s class was another reason for our worry. The big bellied boy’s punching and kicking my kid and other fellow classmates just for pleasure, shocked us to the core. We told our kid to refrain from any kind of interaction with him and even stay inside the class during her recess to avoid any further trauma. But this did not deter him and he went into her class in the recess to punch her only to be caught red handed by the class teacher. When the school authorities instructed him to stay away from her, he beat her up in the bus, with his elder sister protecting him from any retaliation from her side. The bus company was instructed to separate the kids but the boy directed his friend to continue with the bullying in his absence. We took many measures parallelly to help her fight fear. I started accompanying her to school. We also informed his friend’s mom to break her son’s association with this bully. My daughter’s class teacher kept her in the classroom in the recess to make her feel secure. We watched her slowly bounce back to normal school routine with everyone supporting her from all sides (and we still wondering what were the parents of that bully doing all this while).

What binds the bug and bully stories above is the fact that

One -You must have thought I was to write about the movie ‘Delhi Belly’ too. Well I am yet to watch that and will soon feature it in my movie review section.

Two– This is not my pest control or bully management diary though I will soon pen down the measures to fight these tiny terrorists.

Three– We were wondering about the origin of the bugs to be careful about the bug donors and sanitize the house whenever we meet them next, and we were wondering about the parents of the bully to know whether they are aware of the monster living in their house or they are just thinking that this will just pass.

Four– There is hardly any difference between these little terrorists that gave me some sleepless time and the  larger society bugs and bullies who use ‘Power Play’, time and again to keep the fear of their power alive. We had been observing that for the past 2 weeks there were quite a lot of check posts all throughout Mumbai roads to identify suspects. Probably the actual plan of the terror group was larger than the one executed on the 13th of July when 3 blasts in the span of 25 minutes ripped through rush hour crowds on Wednesday evening in Mumbai, shaking the belief of the people in the system again, probably the people were thinking that the government will move its magic wand and woosh!!! –  kill all the terrorists in a jiffy, probably the plan was to send out the message that even kids will not be spared as the 2nd of the 3 bombs  was at a bus stop near St Antonio High School in Dadar, probably they were assuring Kasab that they are still with him, probably they thought we had forgotten them and came to remind us that we are still as vulnerable and unprepared for such a disaster as we were three years ago, probably they just came to make a mockery at the tall claims made by the politicians that we are better equipped now, probably they just came again year after year to implement their training and attain higher ranks in their terror groups, probably they were sending messages to other countries through us that they can take on them too the same way they did us, probably they were telling us that they can any day go under the nose of the officials unnoticed, probably they mocked at us that our lives for them was as good as vegetables (read gajar,  muli) and could be chewed and spewed on the streets as and when they want and we, like always, would bounce back.

Five– I am wondering why did I not spray the bug to death and slap the bully myself?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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All the men in my life

Prologue

“Men men men men, manly men, oo hoo hoo, hoo hoo, oo”  Well they are nowhere close to the 2 men Charlie and Alan Harper or to the half man Jake for that matter but have been the most important part of my growing up years(which I still am). This is about all the men in my life.

Act 2- Scene one
“Just won this trophy for the best swimmer. All thanks to you. ”

“Oh that scooter is just a toy for me. I don’t know why they say its the heaviest model. They didn’t train from you.”

“Really? You were a jockey and did equestrians? When do I get my riding lessons.”

“Singing movie songs is not as bad as you think. Why don’t you like that?”

The first man in my life since even before I was born- My Dad. A strict Disciplinarian, Sporty, Adventurous, Skillful, sometimes finicky and loves to talk. Has valued quality over quantity, that’s why he always gave us the best even if it was way beyond his capacity. I have this knack of mending electrical stuffs and other household errands and mom thinks its his genes. I even have his ‘temperamental’ temperament. It’s a funny thing but when I look in the mirror, I feel my left cheekbone is like his and also to some extent his ‘I care a damn, I will do what I want to do’ attitude. When I was young, I was like this free spirited, demanding, difficult, authoritative, untamed, wild Mustang and tested his equine skills time and again. (I am lucky to have really easy kids and thank my stars for that.) Happy Father’s Day Dad.

Act 2- Scene two


This is not the first time I am writing about him and neither the last.
http://technojaya.blogspot.com/2010/11/anything-for-you-baby-it-was-like-silk.html
http://technojayaa.wordpress.com/2011/03/19/until-death-do-us-apart-prashant/

He is the lead character of the Scene 2 of my story. If he is not watching TV, he is reading a book. His love includes all star war series, all survivor seasons, all friends episodes, all Indian reality TV, everything sci-fi, all of jeeves, all of suraj barjatya (we named our little one on his production house-can u beat that), all of …ALOOOOO. I thank my stars for the day I met him (and he too better return the favour). We are inseparable, rather I am like this twining vine spilling over the arbor of his moral and emotional support. I have experienced the adage that a woman is born thrice in her lifetime-one when she is  officially born, two when she meets her soulmate and three when she gives birth and I am grateful to god that he is a part of my life. Wish you too a Happy Father’s Day with your little angels.

Act 2- Scene three
The perfect example of seamless integration in my life-from being a brother to being the other dad (Ever since he came into adolescence suddenly it felt like I had two dads) to being a brother-in-law, from being a ma’s favorite to favorite mama, from a naughty little boy to a handsome hunk, he has comfortably  transitioned and remained an integral part of my life in both scene1 and scene 2. Just like the other two in the earlier ‘scenes’ he too is a boy soul in a man’s body. ‘

Epilogue

There are 2 things you must be wondering about.

One-Is that all? Just three ? Well, the answer is no.
These are the men who stuck by me in thick and thin and I know for a fact that even if not by virtue of my birth, or marriage, I would have still found them. They were created for me, meant for me, and would occupy one of the highest place in my life forever.
And…… I will be adding 3 more to the list…… once my girls find their soul mates. 🙂

Two-What happened to Scene 1 , Well that was about ‘All the women in my life‘. wink! wink!

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Posted by on June 19, 2011 in Personal Diary, Sitcom

 

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Tsunami in Japan

While I was leaving for the club 3 days back with my girls one of them sneezed and my husband called out from behind, both being the signs of ‘apshagun’ – bad omen as per Indian sensibilities but signs for me that something is going to go bad. I prayed all the way that let it not be on my kids and whatever happens to me be really gentle. Went in for a quick shower just before my swim and as I stepped out I zoomed straight on my back. “Mamma” cried my girls. “Are you alright?” asked one. Luckily I could stand back. Thank god I read the sign and prayed all the way.

My mom always says ‘Que Sera Sera-Whatever will be will be’. But your prayers will reduce the intensity of the bad and increase that of the good.

The question here is, was this Tsunami in Japan, a country with 64% aging population , hit by the most powerful earthquake (8.9-magnitude) with epicenter  of Friday’s main quake located off Miyagi Prefecture, about 230 miles (370 kilometers) northeast of Tokyo, destined to be. The death toll is expected to be over 10,000 with 2000 found on two shores in Miyagi Prefecture.

Even a little prayer from each one of us would add up to heightened positive vibrations to a country which is reeling over  this catastrophe.Lets tweet with #prayforjapan and show our solidarity in this hour of despair. I just did. (http://twitter.com/technojaya)

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Posted by on March 14, 2011 in Personal Diary, World

 

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