तेल मालिश

तेल मालिश 

नारियल तेल सर में उँडेल कर, आँखे मूँद कर, उँगलियों के पोरों को धीरे धीरे सर में फ़िराने लगी। पर पाँच मिनट में ही हाथ थक गए। हाथ नीचे कर, आँखे मूँदे मूँदे मैं माँ को याद करने लगी। मेरी माँ, मेरी मम्मी अक्सर तेल लगा दिया करती थी। संयुक्त परिवार में तो कोई ना कोई तेल लगवाता या लगाता रहता था। मुझे भी किसी से तेल लगवाना बहुत अच्छा लगता था। मज़ा आता है किसी अपने के जाने पहचाने हाथों का स्पर्श लेकर। अक्सर मैं आग्रह से कि- ‘थोड़ा और, थोड़ा और कर दो’- कहते कहते प्यारी सी नींद भी ले लेती थी। तेल लगाना मेरे लिए सुखद प्रक्रिया है।आज भी बहुत मन था तो तेल सर पे उँडेला, पर स्नेह का स्पर्श भरे हाथ अपने ही कैसे हो सकते है। 

बचपन के दिन याद आ गए। मुझे तेल लगवाना ही नहीं किसी और के लगाना भी अच्छा लगता था। असल में मैं अच्छी चंपि करती थी और मेरे छोटे छोटे हाथों से तेल लगवा कर सबको अच्छा लगता था। मैं बाक़ी बचचों की तरह जल्दी जल्दी निबटा कर भागना भी नहीं चाहती थी। सो सब की चाहेती थी। कभी कभी चंपि करके दस पैसे भी मिलते थे वरना आशीर्वाद, प्यार और असीसें तो हमेशा मिलती थी।

मेरी माँ अध्यापिका थीं, बहुत सारा काम करती थीं और हर काम फुर्ती से करती थी। तेल भी जल्दी जल्दी लगा देतीं थी। जब उन्हें वक़्त ना मिलता तो मैं मुझ से छोटे भाइयों से सर की मालिश भी करवा लेती थी। नन्हें हाथों में सचमुच जादू होता है, अब मुझे समझ आ गया था।

आज मैं महानगर में अकेली थी। बिलकुल अकेली। हल्का सा सर भारी लग रहा था तो मैं तेल की शीशी उठा लायी। शहरों में बहुत कुछ मिलता है पर फिर भी बहुत कुछ छूट जाता है जो सिर्फ़ परिवारों में मिलता है। ख़ैर अजीब सी कसक लिए हाथ उठा कर पोरों पर ज़ोर दिया तो शायद दिमाग़ के किसी कोने से यादों का स्विच ही आन हो गया।

मेरी ममी बेहद स्टाइलिश औरत हैं। जवानी में तो और भी ब्राण्ड कॉंशियस थी। वो कन्थराडीन नामक तेल ही लगाती थीं और मुझे उसका सुनहरा पीला रंग और ख़ुशबू दोनो बेहद पसंद थे पर जाने कौन सी वजह से मेरी ममी मुझे वो तेल नहीं लगाने देती थी। मेरे लिए था सिर्फ़ नारियल और सरसों का तेल। ख़ैर जो भी वजह हो पर यह मन भी ना। बस एक दिन चीन पर रखी एक कटोरी में सुनहरा रंग दिखा तो झट उँगलिया डाल कर बालों के ऊपर हाथ फिरा लिया। ममी तो स्कूल चली गयीं थी सो डर भी नहीं था। अगले कुछ घंटे तो बिलकुल नहीं। मुझे ऐसा लगा कि आज मैंने मैदान मार लिया। फटाफट अपने दमकते चेहरे और चमकते बालों पर एक नज़र मारी और मैं स्कूल का बसता लाद कर घर से निकल गयी। मैं पैदल ही स्कूल जाती थी। स्कूल पास ही था। १-२ किलोमीटर। रस्तें में मुंसिपलटी के कूड़े दानो के पास से गुज़री तो मखियों का झुंड मेरे सर पर मँडराने लगा। कितनी भी उड़ाया मगर वो ज़िद्दी अड़ियल मखियाँ थकी नहीं और पूरे दो किलोमीटर मेरे साथ साथ मेरे सर पर मँडराती रही। अजीब लग रहा था। मैं रास्ते भर गंदगी फैलाने वाले लोगों को कोसती रही। अनपढ़ गँवार मखियाँ, सारे पिरीयड, पूरे दिन मेरे सर पर सवार मेरे साथ स्कूल भर में घूमती रही। मुझे कुछ समझ नहीं आ रहा था। क्या इसीलिए मेरी ममी मुझे यह तेल नहीं लगाने देती थी। ऐसे क़िस्म क़िस्म के कई सवाल मेरे दिमाग़ में कौंधने लगे। अब तो स्कूल की छुट्टी का समय हो रहा था। डर भी लगना शुरू हो गया।

घर पहुँच कर मैंने हाथ मुँह धोया पर दो चार मखियाँ फिर भी सर पर चक्कर लगाती रही। मेरी हालत अजीब थी। ना तो कुछ पूछ सकती थी और ना ही बता। ममी भी स्कूल से आ गयी। 

खाना खा कर बैठे तो ममी ने पूछा, “यहाँ चीन पे शहद रखा था, कटोरी में, किसने गिरा दिया?”

मैंने ऊपर की तरफ़ देखा और सोचा, हाथ तो मेरा ही लगा था, लुड़क गयी होगी कटोरी। मैं सोचने लगी पर बोली कुछ भी नहीं। 

“सुना तुमने बेटा, यहाँ शहद रखा था कटोरी में”, ममी ने कहा । 

“शहद?”  मैंने सकपका कर पूछा। दिमाग़ की सारी बतियाँ जल गयी । बस सारी गुथियाँ सुलझ गयी। मैं अपने चिपके चिपके मीठे बालों  में हाथ फिरा कर, बची हुई तीन मखियाँ जो मेरी चोरी की गवाह थी, के साथ चुपके से वहाँ से खिसक ली।

मृदुल प्रभा

मेरी आने वाली किताब में  से एक 

your comments are solicited.

Remembering my Spiritual Grandmoms

I been wanting to share this bit of my story for a long long time. Its about my grandmothers...my biological one and one in relation...my mom's mami ji. Second one addressed as Bibi. As I write I can visualize her in her spic and span dhotis (cotton sarees) walking with pride and in total control and command. She indeed was the true commander of her big joint family. She handled finance like a pro and she had not had a chance to study ..may be not even till primary. But she ensured that all her children studied and got into respectable professions....mostly as educators. Bibi made up for the absence of my beloved nani..fondly called Bhua Nani, who suffered from cancer and died at a very young age of 48. Bhua nani was bhua to Bibi's children but we all started calling her that. Its interesting how relationships are developed in joint families. Bhua nani was hugely talented, creative, meticulous and the best cook in the world. I have never till date met a woman who can make the real 'sardai' (thandai) as she used to make for us. She could sew and embroider to perfection. Most of all she inculcated love of God in our hearts but she left us too soon to become a 'tara' a star in the sky..as we kids were told. Bibi became nani to me and my brothers and gave us endless memories to share. She gave us love and something more. Something that I realized when she came and patted me on my back...after she had died. That moment is unforgettable experience.

I clearly remember when a phone ring stopped me in the doorway. I was leaving for an important event that day. I felt Bibi was there with me in the door way. It felt strange too. Meanwhile my mom answered the call inside the house and I felt some strange connection. I was compelled to walk back inside. Mom said that Bibi is no more... I COULD believe it..could...because I had felt her spiritual presence near me near the door. I could not go to Punjab for her last glimpse but I heard that so many people came for her last rites. She was respected. She was pious.

Pious. In fact my earliest memory of her is she chanting Hare Krsna mahamantra. She was unknowingly a Krsna Bhakt. She even nick-named one of my brothers Shyama... Lord Krsna's name as spoken in Punjabi. Lighting the ghee lamps at dawn and dusk was (and still is) a ritual at all our homes, as was going to temples or dargahs on designated days of the week. That is the beauty of simple small town life. My ancestors had built two temples and a sarai in our home town (these are known landmarks in my home town)...one temple is of Shiva and other of Radha Krsna and we were taken there quite often. When I connected with ISKCON..I remembered my earliest connection with KRSNA.. which had been reinforced by my Bibi. Today I sift, sort, analyze those childhood memories and I realize my love for Krsna is deep rooted..just like my roots...in my home town. Every time I chant Krsna's name I remember Bibi with love. My brother and I were surprised that we can actually recite a Nag leela that we used to sing with her in our childhood.

I do not know where is she and whether she is around me in a new life but I know she will very happy to know where I am heading for.. and as she used to appreciate me looking at my notebooks... "Moti piroye aa..means your handwriting is so good it seems like pearls strung together... I used to laugh. "But you can't read it..how can you say that?" She was quick witted and would say," Disda tah hai..." Meaning I may not be able to read but I can see it.

Sure you could... Bibi..you could see much more than others could.  There are so many things only you could see... and even read and even change.

Thank you Krsna for giving me so much love through her ...Hare Krsna Bibi...I know you still will be chanting HIS name and leading a beautiful life somewhere.

Your God, my God and Bhagwad Gita!!

I am born in a Punjabi Brahmin family and raised among lots of religious rituals and lived a certain way of life as per our family traditions. Being in Punjab, culturally we have also imbibed going to Dargahs and Gurudwaras as an accepted norm of worship. It was never seen as a separate thing.  When we moved to Jalandhar, there was a Church close by and we did go there every now and then and my parents never stopped us. I remember even bringing rosaries and small cross pendants home. I even wore them sometime. No one objected.

Today at the ISCKON temple during discourse on Gita, they spoke about Jesus, the son of God. I was amused because some Christians and Muslims I know would never go inside a temple and never ever eat the prasad offered in temples. I wonder if the Muslim clergy and Christian preachers ever quoted goodness from Hinduism...say Bhagwad Gita for instance.

My daughter told me about Advent and said that she wanted to go to church this month. Of course she can and she did. I still go to church and dargahs and kneel down and bow my head. Its not difficult at all. My God is everywhere because my prayers are answered any where. It is this belief and strong faith that is embedded in my being a Hindu. My religion and perhaps the sanskars given to me by my mother has always kept me rooted to my Hindu roots and yet given me the freedom to explore life's goodness in other religions as well. It does not scare me to enter the Church, Mosque, Gurudwara or a Buddhist Gompa or sharing prasad or any sacred thread. Nothing can shake me from my roots, that is the strength of my sanskars.  That is how it should be. Isn't it?

If 'God is one' then he should be the same and He should be everywhere. So where is the conflict?  The conflict is in our underdeveloped minds. The conflicts stems from poor knowledge and even poorer assimilation of that knowledge.  An open mind reaches out, seeks and imbibes and the freedom to explore gets one many answers. During one of the courses at ISCKON I met two Parsi ladies who too were attending the course. I was surprised when I heard that, and very subtly I found that they have attended another one before that 6 day course. They both felt that the knowledge in Bhagwad Gita is so profound that it is applicable to any one's life beyond the confines of religion and nationality. I was mesmerized just the way when I read 'The Journey Home', the autobiographical book by Radhanath Swami who was born a Jew, raised with Christian boys, travelled through Islamic nations and who eventually found his eternal love in the gullies of Vrindavan.

The beauty of any religion is not how it keeps you bound but how it liberates you to accept just about anyone with love, compassion and respect.

I have just taken a small step in understanding myself through this divine knowledge of Bhagwad Gita. Take a small step, reach out for this book and discover the richness of its content and its relevance in the present times. Its not for nothing that Modi ji has been gifting this book to every head of state he has been meeting.  All the self help books in the world and motivational volumes would weigh lighter than the wealth of knowledge that is hidden in Bhagwad Gita.

To A Potty Reader

Are you a potty reader? Chances are you are. Then you must read this quickie.

Western Commode is perhaps the worst invention of mankind. Imagine what is so naturally done in a squat is being done in a 'sitting on chair' like position. Most people today suffer digestive tract problems and this very well could be a reason. The waste is not completely expelled from the colon and belly is partially filled at any time. They keep trying various digestive churnas (powders) and pills but keep missing the valid reason for it.

Many people take reading material to their 'comfort zone' and spend hours reading sitting on the commode. Many read their newspapers in the loo. Many have created a small corner for books in the loo. I too once was one of them.  I heard of a gentleman who took tea cups (one after the other) in the loo because he could not relieve himself for hour and half. So he kept sitting there with a book and tea.

Guys, human mind is not equipped to handle two things in one moment, so either one clears or one reads.  In any case if one is really feeling the urgency and the pressure, the job is done in a few minutes. There is hardly any time to sit with the book. Won't it be nice to allot a few minutes to cleanse your internal organs with concentration? Then you can sit in a better place and environment to enjoy what you read. Makes more sense?

Its amazing how life has changed. There was a time when even if a book fell on the ground we would pick it up and touch it to the forehead. For we were taught its importance and it was 'Vidya'..it was a gift from God. Sadly it can not be said about the newspapers today anyway and may be most often people read trash in the privacy of their loos. Now people take their laptops and tablets to continue working in their shittiest time. Oh man! Has it increased productivity? On the contrary it is a cause of 'pain in the but' literally.

None of us is so busy or such a workaholic that we can not spare few moments for that 'Potty Business' because nothing relieves better than that. You will agree to that. Leave your books, newspapers, laptops, tablets and smart phones OUTSIDE your loo....and chant "oh shit, oh shit' only in the privacy of your loo and not through out the day !!! :)

Fauj ki Daaru

(Written in a lighter vein and is not directed at any one person.. बहुत लोग दिल पे ले सकते हैं। Please know you are not the only one.. :) Enjoy..Happy Diwali.


आर्मी? आप आर्मी में हैं?
मेरे husband.
पहले क्यों नहीं बताया, अरे वह आप से एक काम है।  कुछ चाहिए।
क्या दारु ? एक  स्वाभाविक प्रश्न मेरे मुंह से निकल गया।
अरे हाँ.. एक तो फ़ौज की दारु बहुत सस्ती मिलती है और दूसरा बहुत pure  होती है.  उन्होंने justify kiya..

Well, फौजी की बेटी हूँ, फौजी की बीवी हूँ,, और फ़ौज के दारु के बारे में यह सुनते सुनते उम्र बीत गयी.  नहीं मैं किसी को जज नहीं कर रही पर सच मानिये फ़ौज से जुड़े होने का जो मान एक फौजी परिवार को कभी मिलता था वह अब सस्ती शराब में बह गया। हमारी ख़ासियत यही रह गयी. यह सच है कि एक जनरल ने तो ट्रक भर दारू बेची शायद इसी वजह से दारु फ़ौज की पहचान सी हो गई है.

मैं कभी पीती नहीं थी, पर पति शौक से पीते थे और उनके दोस्त भी और सोशल पार्टीज में फ़ौज में दारु बहुत आम और सहज सी बात है इसलिए हम ने भी बढ़िया से बढ़िया क्रिस्टल के गिलास इकट्ठा कर लिए थे। We faujis actually drink in style. Beer tumblers, mugs, Champagne, Whiskey, Wine glasses, crystal decanters in various shapes and ice pale were part of my Opera crystal collection. Even the choicest bottle openers, cork openers and tongs are a collectors delight and so is my husbands collection of daaru.

Ladies do drink socially and I am not averse to it. Its just that I never felt like but when people pester a lot I ask for Champagne and only few would have it. होगा भी तो सिर्फ मेरे लिए शैम्पेन खोलने के लिए दिल चाहिए.  आधी प्रॉब्लेम तो ऐसे ख़त्म हो जाती है. Once a senior officer actually got after me to drink Vodka and I told him, "Main bina piye logon ki aisee taisee kar deti hoon, aap ne Vodka pila ke apni karvani hai kya." Well he had actually pissed me on many occasions सो मुझ से रहा नहीं गया। The youngsters (young officers) told me in the party "Ma'am sahi diya". What ever ... I tell the same to my husband daaru pila ke kya poochna chahte ho.. aise bata deti hoon..kisi ke baap se darti hoon kya.

चलिए हम ने शुरू भी नहीं की और शादी के दस साल बाद पति ने भी छोड़ दी. अब हम अपने क्रिस्टल के गिलासों में दूध और लस्सी और पानी पीते हैं।  दुःख तो होता है पर ठीक है.  वैसे भी आज कल लोग अधिकतर ड्रिंक्स जैसे ब्रीज़र्स और बियर बोतल से ही पी लेते हैं। वैसे आप को एक बात बताऊँ न ता फौजी दारु कोटा अनलिमिटेड है और न ही फ्री.  आज कल पहले की तरह पीने वाले भी नहीं बचे.  फ़ौज में अब बहुत कम अफसर दारु पीते हैं और लुढ़कने वाले  तो बिलकुल नहीं दिखते जैसे हमे बचपन में दीखते थे।  अलबत्ता औरतों के तौर तरीके बदले हैं और वोदका, बियर और ब्रीज़र्स लेडीज में काफी लोकप्रिय हो गए हैं. और उन्ही में से कुछ लुढ़कने वालों की कमी भी पूरी कर देती हैं. अधिकतर लेडीज बिना पिए डांस फ्लोर पर पैर नहीं रख पाती इसलिए पीती है.  सो लगभग उनके पति का कोटा पूरा हो ही जाता होगा। हमारे जैसों का कोटा दोस्तों के वास्ते हो जाता है।  अब जिनको यह बात मालूम है वह दोस्त रिश्तेदार इसका फायदा ले लेते हैं।  इतना तो दोस्तों के लिए बनता है. पर कभी कभी भलाई भी मुसीबत बन जाती है.  हमारे एक बहुत नज़दीकी दोस्त जो पीने के शौक़ीन थे हमारे कोटे के चलते इतना पीने लगे कि लिवर जवाब दे बैठा।  हमें इतना अफ़सोस पहले कभी नहीं हुआ।

पीते नहीं तो क्या, पिला देते हैं … थोड़ी थोड़ी। . वह ग़ज़ल है न.… महंगी हुई शराब की थोड़ी थोड़ी पिया करो. हम कहते हैं कि सस्ती भी ले लो जनाब, पर थोड़ी थोड़ी पिया करो… न हो जाये लिवर ख़राब, थोड़ी थोड़ी पिया करो।
P.S  I will edit the portion written in English and perhaps write it again later... in Hindi. Due to bad internet I had typed in English.. Just finished this at the Airport before my flight... Posting it right away.. dekh lena.. typos. :)

What's in a surname?

My daughters' passports were to be re-issued.. (RE-ISSUED) and the passport clerk spotted an GROSS error..Surnames do not match with those of the parents. So objection was raised. I went to APO and finally they dug out old application records and cleared the case. Both my girls have their OWN names in full..no surnames or family names. I have to explain this many times to many people that I have given my children a unique identity..they don't have to change their names after marriage etc. My husband is appreciative and supportive of this decision and the school has finally understood that too. Else I was known as Mrs So and so, four different surnames, my maiden, my married one and with my two daughters' second names.

Once a an Air India staffer at Kolkata airport asked me the reasons for no surnames and when I explained it to her, she said, "Hats off ma'am. You are a gutsy women." Guts? It is logical way to give a Girl Child her due place in society. Let her not be known by someone's name and keep changing her identity with changes in her marital status. A name is one's identity and sadly I see many women losing a part of them in these petty changes. Some feel guilty and some feel sad about changing it. Besides everything, it is whole lot of paperwork and unnecessary affidavits that one makes for these changes. As the passport clerk said.. some come for change after marriage, some after divorce and some after remarriage. What a waste of energy, time and resources, Give your girls an UNIQUE NAME and teach them to make a name for themselves. That will bring about a great change in their attitudes and in the society. Whats in a name? Lots, when you have to go through the official documentation. Its legal, social and emotional issue.

My Dot Com

My First Computer in 1999

Well the year was 1992..Computer was the buzz word. I read that those who would not learn computers would lag behind. The new world was going to belong to the computer savvy and so I got myself enrolled in the first available course to get acquainted with the new monster.

The first lesson on MS-DOS was to type my name and I wrote "STUPID" for fun.  It wrote back "Nice to meet you, Stupid".. I was laughing..amused. I was completely at ease with the Monster..from the word GO.

It costed me 69 thousand for Wipro Computer n Printer, in the year 1999

Sold it as scrap on March 10, 2014 for a whooping sum of Rs. 500/=

The Original Packing

It was a certificate course that familiarized me with the computer jargon..MS DOS the operating system, Wordstar to type my articles, DBase to keep address books, Lotus123 to do calculations n graphs. It was kind of very empowering. I could identify the news about computers, web n all that.  In 1993 I had my first email account on usa.net. The tech world was evolving at a very very fast pace,. Andhra Pradesh was the first tech savvy state. Chander Babu Naidu had changed the way Government was functioning. So, I did a refresher course for a month to keep abreast with technology. The Windows to the world had arrived. The young Andhraites had begun an exodus to US of the A dotting Silicon Valley n every computer business abroad.

It was an opportunity for future. A friend came home and discussed about his new Software venture at Amritsar in Punjab. My mom tried to convince him that Ludhiana was a better place for his choice of business. We were bewildered at her new tech analysis. So she explained how she could get him contacts to manufacture soft wear.  After all one of her relatives was manufacturing tee-shirts. (Superior soft wear types). We had a LOL session that night. I even got a middle piece published about that anecdote. My articles were hand written n hand delivered to Deccan Chronicle n Times of India Hyderabad. (Those were the days my friend... makes me feel ancient.)

In 1994 I hired a computer for rupees 3K a month and kept it for 3 months and extracted full worth out of it. I explored every application loaded on it and experimented with every damn lock n key. So it crashed once and was replaced. I realized it was a very smart decision until the replaced computer opened a 'dirty picture' of a model on the desktop. That day, I learnt how to delete it and forever. :)

Y2K was the talk of the computer world in the year 1999. Another confusion filled year. I was made to believe that it would a wise decision to buy a machine before 2000. So I bought a Pentium 3 with the latest configuration of speed and 10 GB HD. Wow!! A loan of Rs 68 thousand 7 Hundred something. :( It had two crashes and well within the warranty period and free replacements were given for HD, I was so happy for Paisa Vasool service and forgot about all the reminder calls I had made to WIPRO n its lazy staff in Chandigarh)

It was my proud possession and I wrote my articles on it. There was no internet but I printed out stuff and sent to publishers. When my daughter arrived I made posters, a monthly newsletter about her to share with my family n her pop who was posted in the field. Printed out invites, letters, posters, greeting cards and many cute things. By 2001 my little daughter too found it very interesting as I got floppy discs with Rhymes and cartoons for her. By 2003 n 2004 I was an expert and became a prolific writer getting published at least 3 times a week. Despite the paltry sum that I got for every article, I had a big cheque at the end of one year to buy a decent Golf Set (full) for gifting my husband. Of course it was an incredible journey through various places of posting and I was the first one to get a broadband and explore SKYPE, all thanks to my tech savvy globe trotting younger brothers.

2009 my brothers helped me graduate to an all new Macbook Pro that was brought from US. Mom too got one for herself for she could now very well differentiate between softwear n software n already had a desktop to herself and a couple of short courses to catch up with the changing times. She learned computer basics at the age of 60. So with Apple Inc. my world changed. Initially I had hated Steve Jobs, for Mac is so different from Windows... Hahaha...and my daughters had already grabbed my desktop. They did not let me touch that ever again.

My younger daughter is a budding writer and a gadget freak so she became the master of the machine. She did pretty interesting work on the machine. But with years my old friend began developing aging sickness. It will hang or black out suddenly and the speakers n sound were the first ones to go. One day, I saw my daughter watching a movie on it. I said what are you watching without  a speaker. She had a big grin on her impish face...she said, "BARFI".. Crazy, that's what she is.

Sadly one fine day this old friend went into COMA. My daughters love woke it one day and it was back to life but not for too long. It stayed dead on her desk and gathered dust. It was time to say goodbye to it. So I dug out the packing too(all original as we service people always preserve packing material for postings n transfers) to dispose. I packed my old companion with dignity and bid it a farewell... Where ever it has gone... the memories are with me and they are sweet.

Mayfair or Unfair???

It was my first time at Mayfair near Gangtok. Known for its Casino Mahjong, the only Casino in mainland India and its Spa, it is a popular tourist destination. The first thing after checking in was an appointment in the spa. I was not particularly tired but I was looking forward to a good massage. Since my husband had been there earlier, he knew the girls well and the services offered. Before I could understand he vanished with one of the girls, read therapist. The Spa manager said, "Ma'am you will go for a couple massage. Sir, is waiting for you." Frankly, I was uncomfortable at that place from the word go so I asked, "Couple massage...??"
"Couple massage with two girls for both of you".
I was more confused..I said, "No"
"Ma'am we can give a male and female for you both, if you are comfortable. Will that be fine with you?"
Holy crap, I was beginning to feel so sleazy already. I said, "No, may be you give me only a head massage in a different room because I don't want any couple massage."
God knows what happened and she asked me if I should send a male therapist for my husband. I said, "Of course".
Another petite looking twenty two year old took me to change. I went into another room with this girl and had the worst ever massage of my life. I remembered the maalish wali amma at home and the way her hands soothed my skin. Here I was in an air-conditioned spa room talking to my 'therapist' (an over-rated term for masseurs) and what ever came out in that conversation made me feel sick. I wondered how many filthy fat rich men had lied on that bed before me. How many would have asked sexual favours from these young girls, all aged between 18 and 26, some younger than their own daughters. My body was feeling heavier and heavier and my head swooning. As she moved her entire fore-arms over various parts of my body, I felt uncomfortable because these very girls massaged men, perhaps even my husband in the same way and that thought was repulsive. Yes, most men, 99% are given female therapists. Male therapists (there are only two) aren't allowed to massage the opposite sex but they are popular with couples. If you are wondering still.. well, I am told about some young women desperately seeking male therapists...even at a premium. Ditto for some couples. (But aren't allowed.)

I was already feeling like shit and hell this was not even Thailand. I was neither amused nor relaxed. I was very annoyed with myself.  Call me old-fashioned but someone from the opposite sex touching your partner is not amusing...not to me at least. Anyway...

My husband was sleeping like a dead man after that man to man massage.  I was sure he lied to me about the last time that the therapist was a man. After this visit I had learned certain truths.

I can't do shit about the lie but I am hugely pleased with myself for sending a male therapist to him this time and screwing his happiness. He was pretty surprised how his girlie masseur changed into a young boy.  What the fuck!!

I asked him, "Did you fall sleep even last time?"
He said, "No, I could not."

F>>>F>>>>F>>>> how could he with a young girl pleasuring him?


Mayfair...wtf...is not fair!!! Its sexist. Its unfair to the fairer sex.

Helium took him away from all of us

4th of June
I was woken up to the heart wrenching message in my mom's loud, shattered n quivering voice.  I rushed downstairs, shaken. Unbelievable. My youngest cousin brother lost his life in a freak accident in Canada. My chhoti masi's only son left this world and her world collapsed.  We have tried communicating and consoling her but words fail us. I have been having a dialogue with myself but nothing actually makes sense. KESHAV left a vacuum and we know that nothing in this world will fill that void. Especially for his parents..... the mother, who begged n prayed God for his life. Its very tough dealing with a loss like this. Pray for Keshav and his family but that isn't the reason for this blog.

I thought over this tragedy all these days. Checked out lot of info on the net. I felt the need to educate and spread a message so that other people can be warned of the fatal consequences of FUN WITH HELIUM.

Sucking Helium through balloons or cylinders for Donald Duck or cartoon like squeeky voices is a very cool party idea in the US and Canada. Youngsters do it very often. That is what my cousin was doing. Now what happens is Helium pushes Oxygen out and constricts the lungs making squeaky funny voices but IF the Helium exceeds Oxygen there is an instantaneous death.  Many times kids don't realize this and cross that barrier and after that there is point of no return. It is scary.

My cousin brother experimented with Helium and lost his life. What was intended to be fun has devastated his family. I am not going to post links but if you want to educate yourselves you may check out more info on the web. Awareness n education is very important to save our children from these perils.

 P.S: Don't underestimate your children. I was hiding this info from my daughters and they informed me ( and shocked me) with their knowledge, apparently read in an encyclopedia because some friend wanted to try it. (in India too). Be a part of your kids' activities and know what they are doing or experimenting with.  Our KESHAV, my mamaji and my daughters are the reason for sharing this information with you. Let no life be wasted.

Hey Krsna! Take care of Keshav's soul and give his loved ones the strength to go on!!!!!!!!

Better than an Audi!!

I don't own an Audi, not as yet, but I am very fond of my 'Merc'…that's my cycle and I have been riding it for many years now. Going to the local market for fruits and veggies or shopping, going to the club for a game or library, going to the swimming pool, taking kids (when small) out for a ride, going to the bank…its with me everywhere. My friends whom I refused to, when they offered me a lift, often ask me, "How have you come?" I say 'My Merc' just like I answered the first time, and watched the bewildered lot while waving at them, pedaling my 'Merc'.

So many friends have expressed their desire to ride one after seeing me, including the ones who have never done it before. Actually we women lose touch with many people and activities that we were so familiar with in our maiden days. Life is truly demarcated into two worlds…before marriage and after marriage. I have seldom seen a man not doing what he did as a bachelor, that includes chasing women (now may be with eyes alone??) and playing all the sports he loved. Speaking about men is like opening a debate….so I leave it for the time now.

Ah…cycling is fun, always, but earlier I combined it with purpose and now the sole purpose is pleasure… on weekend mornings. Thanks to my cyclist friends in Bandra who came all the way to Afghan Church, where I joined them for the shortest ride from home, I am beginning to enjoy SoBo rides to begin with. I have begun cycling on holiday mornings on Bombay roads exploring places like you can never do in your swanky AC four wheelers. Its an added delight as my daughters have gained height (and now also the confidence) to follow me through the sparse morning traffic. 

My younger daughter has to be dragged out of the bed with the angry bird face but once we hit the road she tweets "Its fun". She still is scared but given the fact that she has recently graduated from her kiddy bike to a 26" and started negotiating the traffic (BEST buses and BMC trucks) makes me look at her with pride. My elder daughter who otherwise fights with her all the time becomes hugely protective towards her on the road and urges me to take the lead while she follows her behind, keeping and eye on her sister, at times stopping and helping her on a turn or a signal. Its a great way to see them bonding even if you come back home to witness them fight like cats for the title 'Ring ki Queen'…both girls you see!

Yesterday it was just my elder one and me. We cycled to Gateway of India and attended the concluding part of the musical morning of Elephanta Festival. Today it was all three of us and it was fun because on our way back we went to the BPT Garden. Bombay Port Trust garden is an oasis of greenery and very popular with health freaks. So just when we were leaving the place on our bicycles a gentleman smiled at us and waved. I liked it. I guess my Merc and kids' SUVs with low carbon footprint impressed him too. And guess what, he was in an Audi….!!

PS: Kids just requested me to mention their beauties; younger one's 'Bentley' and elder one's 'Ferrari'!…LOL

NO TV??? Give me the internet!

No TV DAY?? The news paper I subscribe to had me bowled over the idea of No TV day. Not that my kids are glued to TV on other days. Don't just think something like how sweet n all. Of course my kids would want to go on and on, on Animax or Pogo or just about any other channel on TV but I play the 'Mugambo khush hua' after turning it off or just jerking the smart card (tuner card) out of the set top box when I step out of the home. Ha, ha, ha. Oops, my little one is reading it right now and quipping, " Khud ko Mugambo samjhte ho!"

So, yesterday we decided to do some of the things that Hindustan Times had been advertising for over a fortnight. While some activities are part of our outings already there are some others which we can do even later, for which I have preserved all the related write ups and probably we will have a NO TV Day once a month. We decided to start our day with cycling to the Gateway of India. For my daughter it was her first time ride out of the cantonment. Once at Gateway, we looked for the Cyclists from Bandra. We could not. Probably missed them. My daughter was so charged and excited that she beamed, "I want to go to Marine Drive" So we went there. The dog lover that she is, she played with some dogs and befriended some. Then we rode back home in 25 minutes flat. Isn't it fast?

Then we readied along with the younger one for a Heritage Bus Ride from Jahengir Art Gallery. It was a long wait out there but it was worth, with the funny guy who was our guide. He showed us Sachivaliya...and said yahan upar se neeche tak koi sach nahin bolta... and that Vidhaan Bhawan was the WWE of the ministers. His narrative was hillarious . Though SoBo has very familiar sites, the bus deck gave a completely different perspective for me to take some good pictures.

After this we went to Ballard Bunder for a exhaustive trip to the The Indian Naval Ship Vikrant which is now a museum ship. The Naval guys were so cordial and good guides. People loved sitting in the cockpit of the Helicopter, a part of display in the museum. So did my girls. Par...yeh uda nahin...haha!! HT guys, next time please take me for copter ride over Bombay. I really want to take some good aerial shots.

More??? Are you crazy? Where was the strength left. Too much packed in one day. We headed straight home as I was craving for my good cup of lemongrass tea. Kids??? OMG, they were so tired. So everyone sat silent and then my younger girl suddenly picked up the remote to switch the TV on. "No!" I shrieked.
"Please mom I want to relax."
"Read a book No TV today, today is NO TV DAY."
"It was no TV day, now it is night."
"Sorry, the day will end at 12 midnight."
"Didn't we have a no TV week?"
We actually did but then today it was like a promise.

"Whatever! Please no TV today". That one came from my barely one and half year older to the younger one yet many years wiser elder daughter who is otherwise a avid TV watcher of Animax's Inuyasha series. That is on days when I don't play a Mugambo!!!

..........................and wait here's more, the little girl is a die hard negotiator. She said," OK, Can I have the internet then?"  ................................Abhi toh,  Momma has to turn Mugambo!!!

I ran and danced with Mumbai

I have been there on ground for four Mumbai Marathons. Ran once...ishhh...a Dream Run :) This time I was very late, thanks to my daughters. I had to drag them out to get the feel of it. So, when we reached the half Marathoners were already coming back to the finish line. It was great to see Mumbaikars sweating it out for fun. The women were beetroot red and looked so lively.

Just then the oldies, senior veterans, came running in their colorful teeshirts. Their josh wasn't any lesser. They waved to the crowds and ran like happy kids. We decided to move towards the music...Jazz by the way. That's where we had a real blast. A senior lady enthralled with her dancing moves and a funny guy sought attention with his signature 'snake dance and ghostly' dance. Right next to it was the Star Plus's Lavani....oops looked like Bar dancers. Isshhhhh...who says bar dancers can't do Lavani and vice versa :)...Of course it was Star..........and Plus.

Celebs Tara Sharma and Rahul Bose came running in Dream run. By now we decided to move to Marine drive to capture better pictures. The BMW lead the Dream-runners and one swanky BMW sat on the Marine Drive found a lover in my kids who went on to admire the beauty and posed with it. We danced some more and cheered the runners. There were many running without a bib number so when I could not control, we finally decided to run (without the bibs) and we did, all the way to the finish line.

My daughters said,"Next year we are running for sure!"

We will!

"Hush"..that was when I lost my voice.

I am a chatterbox, I always had been. So it was very natural for my throat infections leading to Laryngitis in my childhood. The doctors always prescribed "VOICE REST" written exactly the way it is written here, bold and underlined. I still would n't learn to keep shut until one fine day I actually lost my voice and found it so funny to express myself in sign language. That was the prank God played upon me. Years later a reputed ENT specialist confirmed that I did suffer a partial paralysis of my vocal chords. As a result my vocal chords got distorted a bit, permanently. He explained to me why there was a husky feel to my voice and nothing could change it except a surgery with just 20% chances of recovering from the 'husk' and 80% chances of losing my voice permanently. Which was not a feasible situation. So he recommended that I learn YOGA and breathing techniques which I followed religiously for over two years in an yogashram because I was so conscious of my voice.

Although most people, women especially, still remark, "Oh you have a bad throat, is it?", the men actually compliment me about my voice and tell me that women, probably are jealous! :) My guy friends (dare I say Boyfriends? :)), even the one I eventually married, actually finds my voice so good that he wishes me to go on and on when we talk...oops its only I talk and he listens...rather loves to listen.

Another friend just made my day when he reaffirmed that my voice fills him with enthusiasm. Friends, thank you for all that......

Hey Guys, think its time to do some Podcasts!

"Khadi Kadhi" >There is PUN in Punjabi!

People often tease me that Punjabis know of only one type of culture, 'Agriculture'. Well, Pun is a part of 'Pun'jabis with large heart and large-tummies (read foodies). So, I am proud of my agriculture. I have no reason to mind that because we Punjabis are the best at it anywhere in the world. We can even make rocks fertile enough to grow something worth while. All because we love eating. We dream food, we grow food, we love food, we talk food and we offer food without asking and what more..we force people to have some more for our love's sake. Well, that is our culture.

Our telephone conversations begin with a hello, hi and 'khana kha liya' (had food?) or Ki chadiya..(what's cooked today?) Oh, our lives revolve around food so much that no matter what part of the world we live in we still give into the temptation of somebody bringing Saunth Gur (Jaggery with dry ginger and dry fuits), Shakkar (brown sugar) and Pinnies (ladoos loaded with Pure Ghee) all the way from our pinds...from Jalandhar, Ludhiana, Patiala, Chandigarh, Amritsar or Batala or any other place in Punjab.

Recently a friend went to her home town and came back with red carrots, peas, shalgam (turnips), sugarcane, shakkar, gur, cooked sarson da saag and other regulars all the way to Mumbai and made me taste quite a few. OMG, just writing about these is teasing my taste buds. Why not? There is no place in the world where you can get sarson da saag like you do in Punjab. Not many people would know that in Punjab we use the 'gandlan', tender stems and not the leaves of sarson (Mustard) to cook the most delicious recipe. That too cooked on a slow flame and tempered with chillies and garlic with dollops of white butter on it. Mummmy.!!!!!!!!!

My mother is the ultimate cook and host. She never forgets to call me to tell what was 'chaadiya' (read cooked) every day. Even her phrases are laced with delicious Punjabi dishes. 'Khaadi Kadhi' is one such phrase she uses for "so be it". Now how it came into being is another blog. But here's a funny tale about her PUNjab travels. Once on arrival at Hyderabad she was caught for excess bagage on the railway station. Yes! Excess baggage on rail ticket. She was taken aback too and so was the young checker when he came to see a sack full of neatly cut sugarcane, fresh radish and some more. "Don't you get it here?", he asked bemused.

"No, this is from our fields, the farm in Punjab and it is special", she answered cutely. She paid half the fine...."Ganne mahnge pae gaye"..sugarcane proved costly. (LOL)

(Hey guys, think I can go on and on but then I promised to deliver quirkies...so next time!)

Fortified Quirkies U/A

I spent at least three hours trying to decipher the meaning of some blogging terms and laying out a decent spread of a blog. Still I am open to suggestions from all of you. So please follow and write back.

When my settings asked if it had Adult Content, I paused and thought about it seriously. No it actually does not. There is more objectionable content available via cinema, TV, mobile phones and print media. And it is right there into your face...unsolicited. Bigg Bosses Salman and Sanjay together could not do to TRPs what Porn star Sunny Leone dancing on pole could. Is there a censor rating to it?

Innuendos and cuss words are everywhere. I am not indifferent to all these. I don't pretend that I don't understand. WTF..has lost its dirty feel and sounds just a cute little phrase because I have overheard young people using it...for fun. People swear just to add that punch over there. Even lyricists felt inadequate without certain vocabulary and needed Bose DK to bail them out.

I write what I see and hear, and a reaction to it. 'Reality' is pretty screwed up. And "fuck-ups" keep happening. If the proud parents can let their underage children watch a Delhi Belly...this is a very uncorrupted piece of writing. Still it may have those strong reactions, sometime. So I have renamed my blog...FORTIFIED QUIRKIES U/A...

So Young Adults can read it too!!!