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.

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!

I decided never to get into a relationship. I have devoutly consorted to this resolution for over a decade now. Every year I just renew this resolution. And with every passing year my confidence in my New Year resolution has deepened. Till date I don’t have a concrete rationale why I should fall in love or have a companion or get into a relationship.

For me getting into a relationship is farce where nothing is true. Even the words “I love you” or “tum mujhe acche lagte ho” are perfunctory. Those words look and sound beautiful only in the start, only to fade away eventually. The words are good to strike off the chord, begin the communication, however, later the communication lines get jammed up, and later things are directly taken for granted without a thought to other person’s intentions. Where does the essence of getting into relationship ooze off?

Most often, relationships make one sacrifice on self respect and dignity. I know many people who had literally begged to a girl to get her nod to accept their proposal. I am still confused about what is there so much to die for. Girls brutally exploited those boys to get free bike rides, watch movies, and eat at the Taj, Marriott. The megalomaniac boys showered their hard money on their stupid girlfriends. Not that I don’t have that kind of money but I find it foolish to spend it in return for holding a hand along the sea shore or getting a kiss in return.

I ask many what makes them so desperate to get into a relationship. Answers range from Mercury to Pluto, with our without logic, sensual to emotional but none to convince me.

I have been observing an imprudent friend of mine lately. He has been smitten by the “I-need-you : you-are-my-life : you-make-me-smile : you-are-the-one” bug. This insanely-in-love friend of mine just doesn’t understand the logic of ‘shut it-fuck it-forget it’. The girl smartly plays “ringa-ringa-roses” of words with him and he stays amused by all that. I wonder what makes him stay so optimistic about the entire episode. He falls to the every excuse she gives him – ‘what’s the hurry’, ‘time will tell’, ‘we still don’t know each other well’, and so on. My silly friend takes all that and sleeps off with sweet dreams in his head and smile on his lips. Idiot!

I don’t understand how time will tell anything. Aren’t we supposed to plan our time, schedule things, and make our plans work in accordance? I understand there is no hurry unless you don’t mind holding shivering hands or kisses with hollow toothless mouth or don’t expect children at the age when only function the reproductive organ can do is micturate. And when does one plan to know each other well enough? Most of the time my friend doesn’t even get to talk to the one whom he admires so much. All calls go unattended, SMS unreplied, there are only specific time windows when calls can be made. It is all so conditional and unrealistic. Well such a case, most certainly the time when you would have actually got to know each other is during the old age. And I thought true relationships are unconditional and beyond any time factor.

I see break offs, divorces, on-time-weddings all around me. There is zero patience in relationships today. There was a time when I read about foreign celebrity divorces in newspapers, see divorces in movies, then saw my own parents going through it, and then seeing it among my friends. My belief in relationships has shattered with each passing day and my belief in not getting into one has strengthened exponentially in the rising ratio. I hate it when relationships are sought desperately turning a blind eye to the fact that you lay at the mercy of other person’s wish and will.

There are people who pity me, laugh at my misanthropic (which I am not, people have assumed it to be so) life. I just smile back with a thought, ‘let’s see whose smile lasts longer’.

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.

My niece and I visited an amusement park last weekend. She had been after me since many weeks. Not able to further confront her frowning face, we packed our little bags with the essentials, and drove to the amusement park that had recently opened on the outskirts of the city. More than imagining about the fun we were going to have at the park, I was jollied with the enthusiasm my niece had in her. She was singing all the way, waving her little hands to the kids on the road side, licking the chocolate bar, crunching the potato chips et al.

We reached the destination as per our schedule. It was fun. Lots of joy rides, games, ice creams, and bites of sandwiches. At midday, we took little rest on the lush green lawn under a widely spread banyan tree. I noticed my niece had fixed her gaze on something else. Bright colourful balloons floating in the air had become her fancy. She had instantly fallen in love with the red, blue, yellow, pink, and white shades of the balloons. I bought her one of each colour. With strings of those balloons tightly clutched in her left hand and the right hand gripped in my left palm, she walked hopped all through the way till the parking area. We were heading back home.

My niece had become very possessive and protective of the balloons. She had tied them to a corner of her bed. She took a look at them at least ten times in a day. She kissed each colour once in her every visit. Worried that someone might steal them, she never took those balloons out to play with her friends. Yet she rushed back to her room often while in middle of the game to check if her balloons were in place. She use to go back with a smile. She was so much in love with them.

Eventually with each passing day, she noticed that the balloons were getting smaller and smaller. The smile on her face was making a reverse curve now. Finally one day, she found all her balloons have disappeared and only pieces of rubber remained. She cried a lot that day. She insisted that she wanted the old ones only. I had to surrender. Though it was too mature a statement for her tender age, I had to irrevocably explain to her that nothing is permanent, nothing lasts forever, and one day everything fades away and so on. My niece told me that she will buy new ones, if she wants to, when she grows up; till then she will just be happy about the moments of happiness she had had with those five balloons. In a span of one week or so, my niece had graduated from a series of emotions – happiness, obsession, insecurity, sadness, mournful, and finally maturity.

While returning from office that evening, crammed in the traffic jam, my words to my niece that afternoon resonated back to me. I could draw many analogies based on that, most principally about our interactions or relationships of our day-to-day life. I kept thinking to myself that every relationship in our life is like those little balloons spreading color and joy and making a difference to what we are.

Some relationships leave everlasting impressions in our lives and give us the strength to lead our life till the end with just the fond memories of those relationships. Like how those balloons introduced my niece to different shades of emotions, relationships too take you on a trail of feelings. At times, relationships give you a reason to experience fullness, make you feel stronger, guide us through the difficult times as support, strength and aid us physically, emotionally and perchance spiritually. Some relationships become an integral part of your existence.

Sometimes, we feel that a particular relationship and the things happened to us as they were like a God’s gift especially for us. They are in our lives for the reason we need them to be. They make an impact and difference to who we are.

Yet eventually, no matter how strongly we tend to hold on to it, the relationship hits a roadblock and everything turns into a void. Worst is the fact that sometimes relationships end for no fault of ours, like the balloons disappearing at their will for no fault of my little angel.

People simply walk away. Sometimes they force us to stand up and put a period to the relationship. The fancy of “my world ends at you” soon turns into a fallacy when the same person ends up everything, and you are left staring into the infinity about the next step. You stumble, your crawl, you drag yourself but the person had walked away, too far, too soon.

Relationships sporadically teach us something we have never done before. The mourning and the pain might lessen if we accept the fact that every act has a reason. All we can do is accept the reality, love, and cherish every moment spent. Though it may seem like the end of the world, in reality it is not. Just that it needs some courage. There can always be a new beginning. Though a particular relationship is irreplaceable, a new relationship may be on its way that will shower happiness and love on you all over. You need to welcome it smile, optimism, and little caution perhaps. Don’t shut yourself because something did not work earlier. Open your heart to new ones and embrace the beauty of life, the beauty exists because of every relationship. So let’s love and respect what we have while we still have it for it is certain that “Nothing Lasts Forever”, so before it exhausts live it to your fullest.

We have heard about HER, we have read about HER, she is said to be a part of HIM, she lived for HIM, we bring her in our prayers, she is inseparable from HIM, she is the epitome of devotion and Pure love.....there can never ever be anyone like her. She is Meera.

Recently I saw a program on Meera on some television channel. It's not my first acquaintance with her. I know about her. For many years I have been her fervent fan. I have heard Bhajans, Kirtans. However, I never had a chance to really know about Meerabai’s actual life. All those who adore Lord Krishna know her.

Meera's life resonates in our hearts for many reasons. The first thing about her that comes to my mind is "PURITY". Her devotion, her love for Giridhar Gopal is flawless, innocent, and pure. We all know about the greatest love stories ever told and written - Romeo and Juliet, Heer Ranjah, but Meera is simply so different. Maybe there is no comparison between her and any love story ever told.

Born to a Rajput aristocrat family, she gave up her worldly life and luxuries. Little girls play and entertain themselves with little toys; Meera was gifted with Lord Krishna's idol. She was very much captivated and adored him tremendously. She played with him, beautified him with flowers, jewels and clothes, she fed him, worshipped him, prepared food with her own hands. People were amused with her passionate attachment with her Giridhar Gopal.

There is an incident where one of her aunts who is fed up with her conviction steals the Lord Krishna's idol and asks her servant to bury it in the garden. Meera is devastated on losing her idol. It is the time for the pooja and everyone questions her about the idol. She is helpless. It is believed that Lord Krishna himself disguises as a servant and gives the idol back to Meera. The aunt and her servant are shocked. When they go to the place where they had buried the idol they find a beautiful peacock feather in the place of the idol. And they never find the servant who retrieves the idol to Meera. Fascinating!

Probably one of the biggest sacrifices she ever made was to marry another man. However, that neither broke her faith nor distracted her. "To love and live for Him" was the central theme of her songs. "Without pure love, the darling son of Nanda cannot be attained."

Have you ever loved anyone like that? Is it possible for you and me to be like her? I have no idea, but I do believe that somewhere deep down inside us, we yearn to be like her. All those who have found true love in their lives can understand what I am trying to convey. Even if we have not got what we want, we need to be contended that we have loved someone truly, deeply, and madly. Though this may seem to be deviating, it is still intact with the essence of unconditional love that will make every aspect of your life very fragrant. So, if you have ever loved someone and found your true love, make it boundary less, keep it limitless, free from any restrictions. Let love alone be your ultimate thought, path, and goal. Build that faith, trust, loyalty, devotion and unconditional love. And that is what will get you closer to Lord.

Mere to Giridhar Gopal...doosara na koi!