KAHIHI

From very young age, we are all conditioned to keep safe distance from the opposite sex, in-fact at times; an individual of opposite sex is made to be believed as an enemy.
And, one fine day one tries to and in most of the cases starts to love the enemy!
I don't advocate marriage, but if you are planning to get married, at least go through 10 break-ups. Now, I used ‘at least' considering that an average intelligent person should be to grasp the realities of life in those many attempts. Figuratively speaking, the first 3 to put the blame on the other, next 3 to blame oneself, and then the remaining to understand that it is the very attribute of love, nothing personal/subjective.
For me it has been very difficult to say ‘I love you’, even to my dad-mum-family. But, later realized my approach is slightly from the other side: ‘I accept you as you’ is my way of saying ‘I love you’, I can’t make it explicit using those three words every time.
In spiritual seeking if one decides to take the path of love, start with 3 stages – love yourself, love the other, and be the other. Ardhanareswari [Half Shiv and Half Parvati] is symbol of this 3rd Stage.
‘Love’ and ‘Acceptance’ go complementary. To love oneself, one has to accept oneself as a whole. Now, accepting oneself starts with accepting ones thoughts without being opinionated about what others with think or being judgment based on social references. Then accepting others, though not an easy path, happens naturally. Many spiritual seekers try skipping this stage due to roller-coaster ride effects. Now, when I am in the acceptance mode (love), if a person betrays or backstabs or anything out of society protocols, I would accept and understand those attributes too, as long as I am in that beautiful mode. Otherwise, it is a conditional filtered affair of the mind. Again, I have observed when liking someone, many attributes disliked universally disappear due to one likeable attribute.
One more dimension as Salman khan gyans out “Everything in life has an expiry date so does love”

(Part 3 of 3 part series)
Manjula disliked Anagha’s closeness to Anant. She doubted Anagha had some illicit bonding with Anant, “that moron acts idiotic but is smart enough to stare at naked women,” Manjula often pierced Anagha with such words.
Anagha chided Anant once to go away from her. She beat him up too. She made her fell to the ground and slapped every part of this body. All the while when he was being thrashed, Anant tried to reach his hand to her; often times touching her face, her breasts, her neck, and so on. Anagha got aggravated further with this, and thinking what Manjula said about Anant was true, she whipped him more. They both were crying. Tired, Anagha stopped her pounding, knelt down next to Anant pleading to him to go away. She covered her face with both her hands and cried more. Anant gathered himself from the ground, went behind Anagha, and touched her hair, sniffed at them, kissed them, like he used to do earlier. He hugged her from behind and clutched around her neck. “I just wanted to touch your hair once,” he said and ran away into the fields. Anagha sat there weeping.
Anant started spending most of the time all by himself. With Anagha no longer there to take care of him, villagers and other boys bullied him regularly. Anant use to vent his anger and frustration on the jackfruit tree. He used to bang his head on it. At times, Anant used to stare at Anagha through the window sill and bang his head on the rods. Anagha was rarely allowed to step out of the house after marriage. All her time went in doing household chores, helping her mother-in-law, and satisfying Parshuram at night. Anant used to stand outside one of the windows of Anagha’s room and keep gazing at her while she worked up her hair. He sobbed that he could never get the touch of that silk. It had been days and months when he had breathed the freshness of that sweet aroma of her hair. He missed it all badly; so much he was in love with her hair.
An uproar of cries that came from Manjula’s veranda disrupted Anant’s sweet-n-bitter day dreaming. Parshuram had died of excessive alcohol, and probably because of having multiple sex partners; may be eunuchs at times, a truck driver that he was. Parshuram was being taken to the cemetery; four men had lifted the bamboo stretcher specially made for the moment. All the ladies howled in chorus. Anagha could hardly cry. Finding a tear in her eye or on her cheek could have been like an astounding discovery. Her eyes and skin were as dry as a draught struck earth. She sat there in the corner, calm and composed, as if celebrating her freedom from a demon.
After the men departed with the body, Manjula and other women dragged Anagha. They pulled her up and pushed her into the house. Anant ran through the bushes and from tree to tree to find out what is being done. Confusions in his mind had overtaken the curiosity.
Anagha could not take the pain. She sobbed and yowled too. She was pulled to the backyard of the house with all the force. She protested. However, her vigour, now that she had become too weak, could not fight the force of seven women. She was pushed into the backyard. She toppled, and trying to balance herself, she went and hit upon a rack that stacked chopped wood. Few women again hauled her to the centre of the backyard. Anagha sat there couched, hissing and bawling. A bucket of cold water was poured on her. She was shivering now. Her tears disappeared in the water that trickled down from her head. She kept shouting for mercy. No elderly woman obliged. Anant stood confused behind a three feet partition wall made of round stones. He sneaked at the entire scene craning his neck above the wall. Soon Anagha’s hair plaits were chopped off. Anant got enraged, he got furious but he could not move from his place, he was scared too. He stood there rumbling. Lot of soap was then applied to Anagha’s hair. The soap was then thrown into a nearby fire. Four women held her tightly, while other two shaved her head closely. Manjula stood in one corner beating her chest and crying out loud, cursing Anagha for having killed her son. Finally, Anagha’s head was washed again to leave sparkling bright scalp with fresh wounds and blood stains. The towel used to wipe her head too was thrown into the fire. Anagha was made to stand up and her sari was pulled off. She stood there, just in a blouse and petticoat, with her hands covering her bosom. No one bothered about her tears or the torture she was going through. The culture of preparing a woman for her widowhood had blinded all the women present there. Anant started crying. Anagha was again taken inside the house. Anant jumped over the wall, ran towards the wet floor, and picked up Anagha’s hair plaits. He kept looking at them and cried. He kept crying. He arranged the strands of hair neatly, put them in his pockets, and marathoned towards the jackfruit tree, with a high jump over the partition wall. He sat there, crying all the time, and caressing Anagha’s hair.
For many days, Anant never got even a glimpse of Anagha. He kept trying everyday. He would wander around Manjula’s house, stand outside the window, and try to peep in through the cracks. However, all attempts went hollow.
After about, more than a month, Anagha stepped out of the house. She felt very awkward about her recent getup. She tried to deceive the sight of fellow villagers. One day when returning from her mother’s home, Anant met her on the way. They stood opposite each other, face to face. He smiled at her; he kept smiling, and then giggling. He was happy. She started crying though. She hugged him tight and kept crying. Anant removed the strands of hair from his pocket and tried to stick them on her head, one-by-one. The hair would fall off. The scalp could no longer hold those beautiful shiny strings. The once black glistening mellifluous head is now just a cottoned maroon scalp that will just fade in colour with every passing day.

A bunch of good friends were talking being in touch few years down the line. I occupied a table next to theirs at a coffee shop, engrossed in reading Somerset Maugham’s “Of Human Bondage”, when a line by one of the youngster in the group befuddled me. It was a taunt to one their friend who probably was not a part of the latest social networking revolution, “this bugger doesn’t have a Facebook even, how to trace him and be in touch with him”
Why does one need to have an account on social networking site if you want to be in touch with your friend? I am in touch with so many of my friends, even over distances apart (saat samundar paar types), from the times when there were no mobile phones even, let alone Facebook or Orkut accounts. Writing letters on those blue coloured inland letters was fun; I still love writing letters.
I still don’t have a Facebook or Orkut account (Oh my my… what a sin! Errghh). Apologies, I am still a laggard soul in trying to be a part of this revolution, I may never be a part one – I am busy “enjoying” the Baba and Anna revolution.
I have phone numbers, email ids, residential address of all my friends with whom I want to be in touch with. I don’t understand what fun it is say “Hi”, “Whatsup” on those sites or poke, ping, buzz, like and scrap…ahh what the…..crap.
Wouldn’t it be nice instead to pick up the phone to ask your friend right away – “what’s up?”
I am still confused about what people do on these sites. The only people who have definitely benefited will be the one who created these sites. Ironically, though these sites boast of boosting connectivity with people, they actually are pushing individuals towards isolation and alienation of the self – it restricts yourself to just a table, chair, and your computer, whereas there are much better options to connect with your friends with a personal touch, perchance.
I have seen few amazingly surprising messages on these sites – “Took a refreshing shower”, “Saw the ‘most prettiest’ face in the mall today” et al. Why and where is the need to shout all this to the world? In a way you are getting infantalised by excessive usage of social networking sites. One analysis by a neuroscientist reported that usage of these social networking sites can cause attention deficit disorders, induce selfishness, hallucination of shaky virtual identity, etc.
Nothing can replace meeting friends over coffee or beer or perhaps even just like that. Real people, real conversations, real ideas should be the fascination and not passing over messages on the social networking sites, perhaps the dumbest thing to do. Social networking sites are just a media and a media is just a tool, it cannot replace real stuff.
Probably, ignoring it would be haven. I have stayed away from it for so many years and it is not difficult at all. Not being a part of this crazy revolution could also be revolutionary thing to do.

P.S. – Outside the campus of a reputed engineering college, I saw a banner – “One day seminar on Marketing Strategies using Facebook. Invited….blah blah blah…..Yours Socially”. Aaah, “You are So Silly,” I grunted. Engineering college should be motivating engineers to create something revolutionary (pun intended) like Facebook and not encouraging them to become a slave to that social conduit.

Imagine how wonderful it will be to learn how people use their minds, their mental strategies, and act in a manner where the entire aura around everyone is filled with compassion and positive energies. It is truly an enticing experience to enrich the quality of other people’s lives. The enrichment is nothing but the change in one’s attitude and approach, necessarily in the positive direction. It leaves a magical effect on the people and also on the surroundings of those people.

Each one of us, at some point, have had felt a strong desire to bring about a change to this world, change in our surroundings, change in yourself or a person, all to make things better and have a conducive environment all around where things are un unison creating an overflow of pleasant positive things. This desire usually stems from vision, ‘our lives could be enriched and improved in some way’. Such visions provide guidance and directions for our lives and our work, furnishing the motivation and impetus for the change. Such visions when shared by number of people, form a foundation for effective team work and ultimately for progress of a civilization.

This process of change that causes human evolution, when accelerated with focused approach and objectives, give birth to revolutions. Chain of events takes place just like a rolling snowball from the top of a mountain that gathers more snow and momentum as it slides down. That small ball of stone eventually becomes mammoth like and unstoppable, engulfing anything and everything that comes in its way. These are the times when history is shaped.

Quite similarly, it is possible to bring about changes in us and revolutionise the way we behave, interact, communicate, and approach to situations, the only challenge being to take charge of the process and direct it with precision. With the changes taking place in small packets, you will one day find yourself gifted with a huge packet of solace and satisfaction. You will feel wonderful when you re-experience the most wonderful moments of life as it they are happening now, and you will become amnesiac to your problems, worries, frustrations, limitations.

The question is not whether you can be happy or successful. It is actually about how much happiness can you stand before you finally fall off? And realize this is just the beginning. There is a whole new world to be explored as saying says, “Anyone can count seeds in apple but no one can possibly count all the apples in the seed.”

My friend sent me a text message last week asking me to list my favourite moment, my sad moment, my happiest moment etc of the year 2010. It then dawned on me that countdown for the New Year has begun. I have been waiting for the clock to tick to twelve.

I quickly spiraled down the memory lane to ponder over the year that went by. There were moments that gave me extreme joy. However, there were times when I regret the oysters I threw away from my life when I forgot to see the pearls inside them.

The beginning was scary, life had taken a tumultuous turn and I am still on the recovery path; matters have improved a lot though. The year was a roller coaster ride.

Now, I have began to look at the previous year not only from my perspective and the effects it had had one me but also taking under purview the people who matter to me. For some of my friends their life changed drastically when stork visited them delivering to them the new meaning of life. To a few, life taught painful lessons at the cost of their beloved ones.

Changes were influencing not only personal lives but professional lives as well. The tidal wave of recession made situations worrisome, every step needed a cautious attention, and career roadmap needed a meticulous approach.

Now again the clock is ticking fast. Everyone is preparing for the New Year, to welcome it in their own way. While the younger generation is busy planning to make their evening a happening experience, our parents and grandparents will be seen in front of the TV sets either watching the programs or volleying between channels where lot of astrologers will give away detailed horoscope of the year to come. This happens every year.

However, apart from changing the date in the calendar I wonder what is so new about this New Year. I have no idea how it will be. But just like all you wonderful people, I too will be preparing a list full of hopes, dreams, some resolutions (which will be forgotten come February), new desires, excuses to do more shopping, some expectations, new movies. Apart from all these, I plan to come up with a new list. Something I never did previous year, something I plan to do now every year. I will have that list hung somewhere in my room where I can glance through it every time I pass by it. The list will indeed be very special to me – “The Gratitude List”.

“Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow”, words of a elderly wise person.

So, in between those happening parties, lavish dinners, exchanging texts, calls, shopping, celebrations, steal sometime of solitude. A time that is only yours and only for you. Sit back and relax. Express your thankfulness to everyone who made you smile, who made you feel stronger, who inspired you. Reflect upon those moments of adversity and pain when life taught you some lessons without which you wouldn't be what you are today.

Like Eileen Caddy writes, “Gratitude helps you to grow and expand; gratitude brings joy and laughter into your life and into the lives of all those around you.” Gratitude helps you to express from the heart and invite the best in the future. So forget those moments that broke you and let us say our heartfelt gratitude to life and welcome a new beginning, a new you and me.

I am not sure how long my Gratitude List would be but here are few things that I can quickly gather:

• Thank you for bringing me into this beautiful world.
• Thank you for giving me the best parents.
• Thank you for this beautiful place I call My Home.
• Thank you for those lovely friends.
• Thank you for this soft, supple and beautiful skin.
• Thank you for making me reliable, honest and trust worthy.
• Thank you for bestowing me with creativity. I feel so special and unique.
• Thank you for all those second looks I got. :)
• Thank you for bringing those wrong people, without whom I could never appreciate and realise, recognize, admire and preserve those wonderful ones who care for me.
• Thank you for those adversities and also the strength without which I would never have been this wise.
• Thank you for all the love.
• Thank you for making me a Woman.
• Thank you for the feminity.
• Thank you for making me, ME.

And thank you to all the wonderful readers of KAHIHI for taking time to read and appreciate our efforts. A huge motivation for us.

With a promise to come out with more on KAHIHI, wishing you all a very HAPPY NEW YEAR 2011!

At times, it surprises me what is so much about getting married. I was waiting in the queue to buy a ticket of Guzarish movie, when I overheard a girl, ahead of me, talking on the phone with her friend, perhaps, about how her parents are so desperate to get her married. “I feel like running away from the house…bloody f&#$,” she said with a disheartened tone while turning back to check if anyone had noticed her saying the “F” word. I saw a frown on her face, full of awe and stress.

That girl was a stranger. Though there is nothing only against girls that I want to comment, most such victims that I come across are girls. I know at least six such girls personally. I know only one such male victim. However, as much as it is unacceptable in our society for a girl to remain a spinster, the same holds true for a bachelor boy cribbing about his marriage or about the parental pressure, and hence boys usually go unnoticed. Thus the entire focus shifts to girls – the same cult which struggles and shouts for a 33% reservation, and for equal rights with men akin “kandhe se kandha mila ke chalna hai with the male bastion” succumbs to parental (and society) pressure often seeking pity under the excuse, “it is simple for you males, it is different for us” or “you guys won’t understand what we have to go through”.

How? Why? I don’t understand.

Primary reason could be our ethos which is obsessed with the norm of settling down, having a family, and living happily ever after (hopefully). Parents assume unnecessary burden of getting their children married and get desperately after it as if they need to heir to pass on their dynastical legacy – a 800 sq. ft. flat at the most with a little left over cash if not everything is spent on the marriage ceremony. What a faux paus!

Does all this really work? I know of a girl who could not bear the agony of being pushed into wedlock, and she finally married someone only to be divorced in less than 12 months. The other similar case that I know is still struggling to settle down with her forcefully chosen husband even after 3 years now.

What ultimately was the use of all those pressure tactics? Just a transformation from one agony to the other.

However, there are four daring ladies that I know who have defied the social norms, objected to their parents’ torture, and taken upon singlehood as their pride. I collectively call them, “The Bold & The Beautifuls”. They are not extremists though. You can call them selfish in a way, and why not, they follow Ayn Rand’s (a female) philosophies, the epitomes of objectivism and virtue of selfishness. “Romantic love, in the full sense of the term, is an emotion possible only to the man (or woman) of unbreached self-esteem” and “I consider marriage a very important institution, but it is important when and if two people have found the person with whom they wish to spend the rest of their lives—a question of which no man or woman can be automatically certain. When one is certain that one’s choice is final, then marriage is, of course, a desirable state. But this does not mean that any relationship based on less than total certainty is improper. I think the question of an affair or a marriage depends on the knowledge and the position of the two persons involved and should be left up to them. Either is moral, provided only that both parties take the relationship seriously and that it is based on values” is what Ayn Rand professes about love and marriage respectively. And the four bold ladies follow that.

These girls hate listening to girls (or boys) who blubber about their marriage tensions. “F*$# off,” they shout simply, “it is for you to decide whether you want to be a lover on whom true love and compassion is bestowed or a slut who is screwed by a same customer every night for that is what he has married you for.”

When argued that at end of the day you need a companion in your old age, someone to share things when you go back home, pat comes the reply, “I don’t need one of that kind in exchange for spreading my legs every night. I would rather need good health and enough money to sustain for rest of my life, and a friend/care taker/companion but not necessarily a husband”

I love when they talk about their singlehood with so much of dignity. They don’t miss giving roses or getting expensive gifts on Valentine’s Day. They don’t sad about there is no one hold their hand or fondle their breasts in the dark corners of the theatre. They don’t miss being kissed or touched.

What is the problem with singlehood? After all, it is all about you being happy.

If you are a single and struggling to find that someone to match up with perfectly or surrendering to your parents’ undue desires then think again. There is nothing wrong in being single. It is just about changing your point of view and attitude. Don’t mourn. Nothing has gone wrong.

In fact there are many things that you can do and enjoy being single. Reconnect with lost friends, go pubbing, read extensively, draw your career roadmaps, set milestones for yourself, plan a vacation, and the list can be endless. Be sure to be disciplined though; don’t be a wild bull. There is nothing as satisfying as enjoying a wholesome delightful life, where everything is yours. Soon you will apprehend the fun of being single, the advantages it has, and singlehood is not a bad thing at all.

It is not something bizarre. Singlehood does not make you look like a loser who has nothing left in life or because there is nobody to love you. On the contrary, it makes you stronger, realistic, and independent. All that it takes is change in approach and strong belief in the self. You have to love yourself and enjoy your own company. If you cannot enthuse yourself it is quite likely “that someone” may not enjoy your company for long. Don’t feel sorry for yourself, in fact mollycoddle yourself, make yourself your priority in life, decide on your pace to lead a content life.

It is not a blight being a single but an opportunity to explore yourself and evolve as a better person. The knowledge of everyday ordinary reality will dawn upon you. A good psychologist friend of mine usually says, “your best friend is just another you.”

Marriages are certainly made in heaven but an infinitesimal error can land you in hell.

Enjoy your freedom. Love thyself.

APPRECIATION! A simple 12 letter word can be a great expression of gratitude, when used timely and wisely.

If you have ever observed closely, appreciation works wonders, helps you start your day on definite positive note. It will keep you motivated all through the day, may be even weeks. It will bestow upon you a sense of recognition. However, as unfortunate it may sound, most of the times things tend to be taken for granted, thus slaying the entire essence of simplicity and the might of few “feel-good” words.

Slow down, look around. You will find a zillion reasons to appreciate little things around you. Do you remember the last time you appreciated your toiling gardener. Yes, that very gardener who got parched with those hot sunrays just to ensure that your verandah remains full of shade and greenery. The one who pulled out the weeds, mended overgrown bushes, and nurtured those plants to decorate your house surroundings. You might want to argue about all that being his duty and he is anyways meant to do it. However, wouldn’t have a gesture of gratitude worked like a shot in the arm for him? Gardener may seem like someone distant, not in relation, you may argue further. Do you remember having ever said ‘thank you’ to your spouse or kid who welcomes you at home with cheerful smile, enough to drain away the tiredness in you? Most certainly and unfortunately the answer will be ‘no’ or you would keep rubbing your memory forever.

We don’t do it anywhere not to our maids, family, employees, colleagues, or just may be some stranger on the street. We have lost the beautiful gift of smile and appreciation. We are too busy accumulating wealth, buying automated gadgets, celebrating luxury vacations. All this perhaps offers physical and social comfort. However, at emotional or mental level, the restlessness will still continue to crumple you under distress.

At times, simple and small nice words do wonders than big incentives, monetary or otherwise. People may forget those incentives, the amount may soon perish, and however, they will forever cherish how you made them feel at a particular moment.

Take time to appreciate simple little things around you, and see the change that will come to you, your attitude, and your life overall.

I APPRECIATE your time for reading this.

“God bless us everyone…” Imagine what a song that starts like this would be! Rhythmic, fast paced, ideological, peppy lyrics and what else? In one word, an Anthem! A song from ‘A Thousand Suns’ by Linkin Park , after its launch become the most heard song in two to three days. A great start for a great song.

The music progresses gradually, gets a little fast, then faster, then gradually sets your heartbeat at its pace and takes us for a ride.  At a point it drops to dead zero, then goes on to its highest level just to give you a shiver at the sheer pleasure of hearing the base. The drums resound with the base beautifully and the vocals are amazingly done. The song, as sure as bells, keeps ringing in our ears for a long, long time.

The lyrics are peppered with metaphors all over the length of the song. The video has reference to Bhagvad Gita and J. Robert Oppenheimer according to bassist Phoenix.

The other line in the song that strike the most to the common man, “We are broken people…living under a loaded gun.” This sounds so most apt when heard in a Churchgate local during office hours. Images of everybody hanging on one another’s shoulder, pushing each other, heads down, giving in to the situation, perfectly personify the song. Had the video been shot in our Mumbai local trains it would have gained more prominence. The lines suit the morning rush hour and when a train cruises through the air that blows in, the rumble that’s made, all just fit with the song like a solved jigsaw puzzle. The words “broken people” and “loaded gun” exactly describe the present situation wherein we live our daily lives, considering that there could have been a possible outrage ahead of Ayodhya verdict, possibly disguised as a constant threat to blow up a train. Like in the movie “Wednesday”, the “common man” says “When a man leaves his house, there is no guarantee that he might come back” (of course that sounds better in Nasaruddin Shah’s resonating voice) – that is the “loaded gun” we live under. This ‘Anthem of Mankind’ makes us prospect about the direction in which we are heading? What our future has in store for us? What is the consequence of our actions of our wars? We are leaving under a shadow of dark clouds. It is a prayer reaching above them, to Him. But will He hear? Not unless we change. And change is not fast, it’s gradual like, the trance of this song.

The music near the ending part has a quirky resemblance to a very unique feature of our locals: The Bhajans.

The fast locals that pass by with the Bhajans going on have a superb trance to them! The “dhad-dhad” of the trains and the “tin-tin” of the taals have an air of magic around them. When we hear this standing on a platform we are left astounded as to what was that? It’s a trance, a prayer, like this song which we have failed to notice over the years of tradition. It is powerful and it is the original ‘Anthem of the Mankind’. We needed this newer version to remind us where we are heading. Will this one be enough or should another ‘Catalyst’ be released? Will even that ensure a change in us? It’s a hope for the best!

It’s only “Us” who can lift ourselves above this “Gun”. Just to show that we are still humans, that we still not have forgotten this fact.

Catalyst criticizes our actions, prays to Him, and gives us hope. A song worth remembering, for the whole of humanity, indeed.

She is the apple of daddy's eyes, mommy is her close friend, an adorable pampered little sissy at times. A Barbie doll for all at home. She is the most beautiful girl they have ever seen. She is adamant, she is caring, she is bossy. No one ever raise a voice at her. No one dare demean her. She lives in her own cocoon. She lives life the way she wants.. She is always a priority. She is confident. She feels protected. She believes she has the control. Where she is taught never to compromise on things less worthy of her. Her fears are soothed when not sure. Probably I can add millions of many beautiful lines which a daughter experiences in her home.

But the transition she feels when she marries is very different from what she would have ever imagined. She is a wife, a mother, a daughter-in-law, a co-sister, a sister-in-law.......many caps on a single head. Amazing she plays many roles at a single time. she cooks, she manages, she bonds, she gives. Life definitely changes for a girl once she is married. First of all, she abandons her cocoon to adjust to a different environment. Share herself and her things with a stranger. She learns to adjust, she learns patience. She learns the true meaning of compromise. A girl who always demanded her space now learns to give away her privacy to her husband, who might still be a stranger. He suddenly becomes her confidante and is expected her to share every chapter of her life lived so far. Where she has to do sweet talks to those whom she dislikes.Where responsibilities are thrown on her and she is expected to be perfect in everything. Of course, there isn’t any crash course offered to learn how to handle miscommunications, how to behave like a good girl and keep her senses shut when she has to put up with constant nagging. Sounds like a Saas-bahu saga?. Trust me, sometimes life is much more than those sagas. The scenario may not be the same for all. But at times I wonder where does she learn all these things to manage people. How would it be for a girl to make decisions when two families are in question. Whose side should she stand? One end is the family where she was born, where she is still a princess of that house, where she learnt the culture, where she learnt to be responsible, where she dreamt of a perfect husband and loving in-laws. The other end is her soul mate and his family. No, mistake does not exist at all. Its either she knows to do it, or she has not learnt anything. In her not so perfect house, she tailors her tastes and needs to suit the family. She is expected to do so. You see, that’s what women are meant to be. When she pronounces dependency she is quoted to be unaccomplished. When she displays individuality, she is tagged as arrogant and full of attitude. Sometimes, I feel every woman before getting into the wedlock must be given a complete port folio of her new house. So that she can at least tailor her dreams accordingly. Star Plus had come with a show called “Star Vivaah”. The prospective grooms will introduce their parents, show you their house, their tastes and things. I was wondering will they also show the temperament of their mom? Will they show what responsibilities she has to bear? Will they give her a list the things she needs to learn from spices to needles. But again on second thoughts maybe women are just meant to give. No wonder she is looked after like a princess in her mom’s house and every mother fears her daughter’s welfare when she is married.

No matter how handsome, dynamic is the groom.