Excerpts from the Diary of an Ordinary Woman..

Another day goes by and I continue to drift – without a purpose,without a reason,without an aim. Adding on layers of disgust with every passing moment, as I accomplish nothing, as I strive for nothing.

What a pity! I have ceased to live. And I am responsible for it.

I feel bound to my own created obligations, the rationale of which gets into doubt once in a while.

What is my purpose,I ask myself and seldom find an answer. I guess I ask too big a question. I am an ordinary human being who was born and will die just like scores of others,doing my bit in this 2-dimensional world. Struggling with questions that have no answers.

Looking back at past times I had carelessly labeled as ‘bad’, I`m stunned by the revelation. That I was happy living in the superficial world I had created. It was gratifying. Now when I think back, the best times were those when I was alone and focused. Studying in my store house of a room.And listening to my own voice for inspiration. The world began and ended there. Beautiful,when I come to think of it. Just pushing my limits and discovering I could go a little further with each passing day.

Inspiration is what I`m lacking and comparison with distant possibilities, is what is killing me sad.

But I cant be sympathizing with myself at 31. No Way! So many limitations compounded with the futility of the state of affairs. Not able to decide the course of my life. Am lacking conviction and clarity. Not able to let go. Perhaps due to fear. Or perhaps due to an abnormal denial of reality. Still trying to be someone better. Trying to fit into the mold that the world has cast for m

So many ripples..

I have to somehow let go..

It`s getting too depressing for god-forsaken reasons. Absolute anhedonia bordering on the periphery of depression. And guess who is responsible for it?!!

Tomorrow will be another day, different from today. And I shall strive to make something of it. I have to. I am not going down like this. Like a loser. I will go back to the drawing board, redesign my life. Change it. Push myself. Set goals. Learn to live my life. By Jove! I have wasted half of it making mistakes. Let me now spend the rest, rectifying those.

I get knocked down. But I get up again. And again, as always..

A Momentary Lapse of Reason.. Part 2

The teapot boils over.. and over.. and over again. The water splashes onto her soul, burning and insistently corroding like acid.
She holds the teapot close, for fear of it shattering into a zillion irreparable pieces.
The scalds dont hurt anymore. She, who forever feared the pain, has learnt to survive through it all..
Or has She?

A Momentary Lapse of Reason.. Part 1

To Be or Not to Be..

The time-worn debate about whether to work or stay at home is a minefield. Just as changing one`s field of study or ‘expertise’ is. For reasons best known to them, people can be very touchy about the subject. It’s an emotional topic, and feelings of guilt, defensiveness, and stress make it tricky to discuss, even on the most superficial level. Based on the reactions that I get from other people as well as my own to such queries, I haven’t yet found the best way to politely inquire about a new acquaintance’s situation .For two reasons. Firstly because for most parts, I don’t feel the need to. Unlike most others who make it their business to advise or guide me about living my life. And how! And secondly because I am not exactly an epitome of tact!

Well-meaning people often ask “so are you working , or staying at home?” This is often followed by a self-conscious pause, and then a quick addendum: “I mean, staying at home is the hardest job in the world! I don’t know how you do it!” It’s a nice thing to say, though the implication can sometimes be terribly annoying. And I for one,just cannot fathom what an appropriate response to that could be.

In general, I’m not that sensitive about this, but I have my moments.

The other day a ‘well-meaning’ acquaintance from college asked me what my plans were. She seemed genuinely concerned about how off-track my life seemed to be, as compared to the rest of my batchmates (Some in post-grad courses back home, while some having completed residency,are now well into fellowships in the various U.S med schools. But ALL - I repeat ALL are practising some form of medicine or atleast claim to!).

“ You should start preparing for the Steps* right away. I mean,if you don’t, you`ll never be able to join residency by 2009.Which means that you`ll not be able to finish by 2012. By which time,you`ll have to hurry with the family plans .I mean really hurry, huh? We aren’t getting any younger!”

*(USMLE Steps are the qualifying exams for admission to medical residency courses in the U.S med schools.)

“I know, I know. But I`m still unsure about the residency. I`m considering a master`s in Psychology instead.”

“ Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaattttttttt????” She shrieks, “ And waste 5 years of Med School?? Why did you study medicine in the first place??”

“Boy! If Only I knew the answer to that one!” thought I.

“ Well, Psychology is what I`ve always wanted to do. In any case, I haven’t yet decided. So there,there,” I said by way of consoling her. Amazing how people think they care about my life when actually it wouldn’t make a speck of a difference whether I exist or not.

Anyway, the episode left me wondering.

So what’s the best way to ask, IF at all? We are ,after all, Indians. Our culture places a strong link between what we do and who we are. In most social interactions, it’s one of the first three questions we ask: What’s your name? Where do you live? What do you do?

I don’t mean to overthink this (obviously, I’m failing miserably here), but there are three thoughts that come to mind right away.

First that, for those who are dying of curiosity, the query could be posed a little less provocatively. Therefore,“So are you working or sitting around eating bonbons” would be a bad choice.

A better choice would be “So are you home during the day?.” To me, the old standard, “So what do you do” is also just fine.

The other thought is that we, who are asked this question, should really get over it. It’s not that deep, and carrying a chip on our shoulder isn’t helping any.

But how we feel about being asked such a question is also very important. And so, even though “What I normally do” is kick ass on a daily basis, and I’ll probably be happy to tell you about it, however you pose the question. Still, just don’t push it! :-))

And lastly, the reason I`m reacting to it all is simply this. That I`m a lost soul, scuttling across the universe in Brownian motion. Without the faintest inkling of what I`m going to do in life.

Nope, not without the idea of what I want in life. Oh no! Not that! Because I know what I want to do. But not what I should.

So for people who are curious about my life or ask me what I`m doing, how about this?

I`m trying to decide. To Be or Not to Be..

Suburbia..Pic of the Day!

Keep a watch for tomorrow`s cartoon :-))

Suburban Bliss..

The G and I are very pleased to announce the arrival of Baby LM into our family!! Finally!!

The LM I must say, totally takes after his Mommy (yours truly!). He’s short in stature but tall in spirits. Very ‘cute’ to look at.Mostly self-propelling, though sometimes needing a push when the road steeps uphill. He`s dependable and safe. Mostly. Untill you purposely man-handle. And then, he will lose no time to bare his blades and cut sharp. Like good ol` Mommy! :-))

He`s also very vocal(beginning day 1) and entertaining. Amazing company on lonely summer afternoons!

The G and I are really looking forward to creating special memories with Baby LM. After all, it`s about Living In Suburbia… :-))

-Proud Parents

(To the new deluxe push rotary Lawn Mower!)

More updates on Life in Suburbia coming up..

Relationships

MM`s blog set me thinking. About people in decaying relationships, who don’t allow themselves the freedom to be free.

I know of a collegue who was in this state.

It was the summer of 2005. The ceasefire was functional,which meant that we had the freedom to sit outside our bunkers in the daytime,without the fear of becoming an easy target to the enemies across the border. It meant that we were free to breathe the same air,to see the same sky and feel the same breeze against our faces as the rest of the world. As I sat outside reading,one such summer day, this colleague of mine – for all practical purposes lets call her D – came and sat beside me on the steps. She looked happier than she had in months. Much at peace with her self. I asked her if T was returning back today.

She had been in a volatile relationship with T for the past 6 months now, ever since she landed up here in this wilderness. T gave her a reason to exist. And even though,through the days I have seen her been trampled upon, yet she clung possessively to T. He had made it amply clear to her that she should never expect anything from him – not trust, not fidelity, not commitment. Just as he would not expect it back in return. That both of them should have the option to walk, at any time. It seemed like the ideal thing to D.She loved the fact that he was so open, so honest about it. No hidden agendas, no breach of trust.What she wasn’t counting on,is to fall in love. But she did. T kept warning her off and on. But she was happy to have someone around, in the middle of nowhere. Especially after the last traumatic break-up.

All so often I could see D,sitting quietly and shedding lonely tears. Over some rough words from the T,when she had expressed her dislike at the plentiful telephone calls from various women all over the nation. He was supposedly in multiple relationships – 2 were married women. One widowed. And the latest one was D. He spoke of them all, triumphantly – as if they were conquests to be proud of. He said that each one gave him a different kind of joy. While one was bold and interesting to talk to, the other was timid and let him talk. However he said that he had never spent as much time and as interesting a time as he did with D. The thought made her happy.She thought he might start loving her back.

(An after thought : discussing issues of mental/physical infidelity with a group of friends, G was surprised to hear that things like this happen back home. Even in good ol` laid-back Kolkata. Yes, it does. That`ll be another blog.)

Time and again I kept warning D not to play with fire. That she would end up burnt and broken beyond repair. But the relationship continued.And I hoped, for her sake, that she would be happy.

And now as D came and sat beside me, I asked her if T was returning back from his leave. She said that she just spoke to him. He will be here the day after. And that he is really looking forward to meeting her after 2 months. D seemed really happy. For days she had been waiting for him to get back. And finally the month long wait was coming to an end.

But what she had obviously not anticipated was, that along with the wait, the relationship was coming to an end as well.

T returned back from leave, with another woman in tow. It was beyond anyone`s imagination, the nerve of this man! For one moment, when D saw her, she was numb. Maybe things didnt quite register. The next wild moment, she was hysterical. Then neurotic. But she still didnt quite understand. Or maybe didnt want to. He called her up and asked her to join them for dinner. She did. And then she was back in my room, screamimg away into the wild night. She was angry. As angry as I had never seen anyone before. Anger at letting him treat her this way. Anger at the weakness of allowing this 'thing' to mean this much to her. She wanted to walk away. Desperately wanted to. But I knew she couldnt. That she wont.
She continued to visit the two of them off and on, whenever invited. Whenever not, she spent the time gulping down bottles of Old Monk. And then one fine day, she woke up and decided that she has had enough. She called up the higher formation head quarters and asked for a transfer to a sub-unit at another location. And within 2 days, she was gone. Just a few days back, she was content. Not overtly happy. But reasonably content.And at peace with herself. All of that had changed now. But I`m glad she had the strength to walk out when she did.

Anyway, so the other day when I read a post on women in gagging relationships on MM`s blog, I have been thinking about D and wondering why she fell in love with such an eternal bastard in the first place. And I realize that at that particular phase in life and in the seclusion of the hills around, D was desperately lonely.

(I`m amazed at the varied ways of coping with loneliness and stress by varied people. G doesnt know what feeling lonely is like.But I do. G says when he`s alone or used to be, he would read books, listen to music all night long or work at our favourite coffee shop. But that`ll be in another blog).

Her previous relationship of 6 years was coming to an end. The loneliness was painful and she yearned to escape from behind the walls of her individual identity. Escape and be more unified with the world outside of her being. Falling in 'love'
(and thts why its called falling I guess!) with this man was a sudden collapse of her own ego boundaries,permitting her to merge her identity with that of his.The sudden release of D from herself. The explosive outpouring of herself into him. And more so because he was very receptive. The dramatic surcease of loneliness experienced by D as ecstatic. She and T were one! Loneliness and heartache was no more! She thought that the strength of their feelings or the times they spent together would conquer all obstacles. Would make T bow down in submission.That the future will be bright.
The unreality of these feelings never surfaced at that point.. Because falling in 'love' is not an act of will. It is not a conscious choice.

More later..

I know, I know..All the mommy bloggers must think – better safe than sorry. That they would rather have an over-cautious baby-sitter than a callous,frivolous one. But it isn’t just about baby-sitting. Don’t we all go a little overboard in our interactions with strangers, especially in unknown lands? Or am I the odd one out here?

Here`s the incident I was talking about.

My annual leave (in the Indian armed forces,you get 60 days of annual leave and you can take all of that at once or in two installments) was to begin. And my sadist C.O had sanctioned the leave just 4 days before it was to begin. Which meant that, as always, I would have to go to the Jammu railway station directly, to purchase a ticket for the 2-days journey home, on the day of the move. And as always, there was no assurance that I would get a confirmed ticket.

After a 5 hours trip from the L.O.C to Jammu city,in a wobbly old bus, on circuiting mountain roads, I was dead tired when I finally managed to reach the station. And there in front of me, was a line at the ticket counter that extended as far as the eye could see. There are 2 counters for army personnel at the Jammu Railway station, where we had to exchange our travel warrants for tickets – meaning thereby that I couldn’t stand in the general reservation counters. I frantically ran around the place,trying to figure out some other way. The train I wanted to catch, was to leave in less than an 2 hours. Finally, after having asked someone to reserve my place in the line, I ventured inside a dark corridor behind closed doors that read ‘RESTRICTED ENTRY’ for the railways personnel only. In a completely dishevelled
state I ran along the corridor,trying to find some senior railways officer to request for a ticket. It was a dark, damp and dingy corridor. And I was quite scared by the people around. Tall, well-built men with narrowed eyes and long beard,clad in pathan suits and black turbans.No Women. My military mind instantly jumping to weird conclusions at their appearance!

And then through a glass door marked 'ASSISTANT SUPERINTENDENT', I saw this old man-must have been around 50 or so – sitting behind a huge stack of dusty files, chewing his pen. I took a few tentative steps towards the door, trying to decide whether to go in or not. The man didn’t look quite civil. But it was too late to back off. The man had seen me and was motioning for me to enter the room. I did, hesitantly. My mind playing dirty tricks on me. I fidgeted. I was extremely uncomfortable. I didn’t like being in the same room as this old man, who could’ve been a rogue,for all I knew. Or a rapist. Or a murderer. Things like this weren’t uncommon at all. Especially in Jammu.

Anyway, I extended the army reservation warrant towards him and told him what I wanted. That my train leaves in exactly 1 ½ hours and I needed a confirmed ticket. Because it’s a 2-days journey. And because I was traveling alone.Without saying a word, he went over the warrant. Then rang a bell. An office runner appeared. He handed over the warrant to him and asked him to get it signed by “Sharma Saab” and get the ticket back. I blinked. Then I blinked some more. Finally I mustered up the courage to ask him. He said he`ll get me the reservation in some reserved quota they have for VIPs! It was as simple as that.

My heart skipped a beat. I should`ve been thrilled. I was going home on a reserved ticket. But wait a minute,not so fast. My fears took over. Why on earth would this person do something like this for me? He doesn’t know me. What does he want in return? I kept wringing my fingers together. The old man looked at my tired face and said,

“Chai piogi?” (Will you have tea?)

I gave him the dirts, “ No thank you. How long will it take Sir?”

“ Aa jayega. Train to 7 baje hai na?” Tthe ticket will be here. The train is at 7 right?)

I took a deep breath. Fished inside my bag, till I could lay my hands on the pepper spray,ready to use if need be. Thank God I had the good sense to buy it from Delhi on my last trip home.!

The old man, sat there trying to make small talk. Finally he gave up after 10 minutes of rude,mono-slyllablic replies.

I looked around through the glass door to see if I could spot anyone outside. No joy! By that time(and it was almost 20 minutes that I had been sitting there!) I had worked myself up into a total frenzy. I was convinced that the man was a psychopathic killer, who rapes his victims mercilessly before killing them. I kicked myself mentally for being such a fool. This was Jammu,dammit. How could I walk in here without a moment`s thought? What am I to do?

With a thousand thoughts volleying back and forth, I stood up,ready to flee. But the old man stopped me.

“ Rukh jao bachche. Abhi aa jayega ticket.” (Wait a while,kid. The ticket will be here.)

Almost in tears, I asked him to return my reservation warrant. He could sense my agitation. However without another word, he walked towards me. The hair at the back of my neck rose. This is it, I thought. I fastened the grip on the pepper spray and waited with bated breath for him to make a move towards me.

But the old man didn’t even look at me. He walked to the door, flung it open and called out to the office runner. The lad came running. He said that “Sharma Saab” had just arrived and that he was issuing the ticket now. The old man asked him to hurry up. Then turning back, he returned to his seat.

I was so stunned by the whole thing, I didn’t know what to do. I did so want to trust this stranger, here in the middle of an unknown land, who didn’t have any reason to help me out, but for the sake of humanity. But there was this nagging fear,still.

Finally, the office runner appeared with my ticket. The old man handed it to me. A reserved ticket in 3^rd a.c , in my name!

As I started to thank him, he stopped me.

“ Mere bachche bhi door rehte hain. Unke liye bhi yahin karta!”

(My kids stay away from home too. I would’ve done the same thing for them as well”)

As I walked away,ticket in hand, I couldn’t help but wonder. What has the world come to? In a world where crime in all its forms, takes a front seat, is it ok to look at humanity with an eye of suspicion at all times? Or should we allow ourselves to let our hair down,once in a while? And if we do, what kind of price will we have to pay? Would it all be worth it then??