White

As a little girl I loved reading fairytales like most other girls do. I had a huge doll collection too that included Barbie and Sindy dolls. The skimpily clad dolls with perfect stats with plastic smiles (pun intended) were one of my most prized possessions. I still do not figure out why they catch every girl's fancy. Probably these dolls are just thrust upon us as little kids and we're made to believe that we being girls have to play with Barbies because GI-Joes is meant for guys.

Little do we realise that these perfect figures have such a wrong impression on the

minds of little girls on whom the concept of "beauty" is bombarded at such a young age. I've seen kids as young as 8 and 9 years fussing about the way they look and about the fact that their "diet" will go for a toss if they indulge in a piece of chocolate cake. The trend disturbs me.

Coming to fairytales, I feel stories such as Snow White and other princesses emphasise way too much on the aspect of beauty. Infact, most of the fairytales will describe the protagonist as a young, FAIR girl. They are nothing short of print versions of the Fair and Lovely advertisements since Prince Charming will always end up choosing the fair maiden.

The notion that fair is beautiful has been embedded in our psyche and the TV adverts reinforce the idea. Ads that show that the only prerequisite to get your dream job(or man) is having fair skin. Especially in majority North Indian families where the elders of the house will tell you go for the girl who has a lighter complexion even though the 'darker' girl may be twice as better as the former.

We live in a country where an ordinary looking fair skinned foreigner is considered far superior than the most beautiful Indian people. It is time that stereotypes and mentalities change.

After all beauty is meant to be skin deep!

Her royal highness

Till today no force on earth has been so compelling that it wakes me up from my sleep in one attempt. My mom has tried all tricks in the book over the years to budge me from my sleep ranging from loud music (that makes me feel even more sleepy by the way) to sprinkling water on my face but in vain. But now there is a force who has been successful in jolting me up from my deepest sleep in one go. It is none other than my MAID and this article is dedicated to her.

She is the HRH I am talking about. The moment her fingertips touch the doorbell I am awake. umm is partly because of the consequences which I may have to face later such as ruining the afternoon siesta among other things.

My maid is a robust middle aged woman who goes by the name Lakshmi. I do not understand why every maid that I've had in Bombay has to be called Lakshmi and why all of them belong to some obscure village in Andhra Pradesh. But all Lakshmis have contrasting personalities. Lakshmi 1 was a chirpy 20 something female who would eventually get married giving way to Lakshmi 2 who had a morose expression and a peculiar trait of understanding Hindi only when it came to discussing her allowance. A new house comes with a new maid and so the new Lakshmi is a shrill high-pitched female who is bursting with an extra dose of enthusiasm when it comes to striking a conversation with me and an equally low degree of enthusiasm when it comes to dusting the house.

The moment she enters the house she rattles off her favourite ice-breaker "Babyji, nas(h)ta kiya". I have lost count of the number of times I've heard this sentence. Sometimes I wonder if I develop amnesia I may forget everything else but most definitely remember these words. She has failed to understand that no matter how many times she asks me this question, she will end up getting the same response. A negative one. She has failed to understand that her tactics that have an effect on my mother will never have an effect on me. Read: Giving her something to eat or giving her tea.

So on weekends when I do not have to wake up to open the door for her, she takes her revenge in a different way. She will open up all the blinds to let all the sunshine of the world enter my room and switch off the fan and deliberately not switch it on again. The response when I wake up "Babyji main toh bhool gayee" followed by that wicked grin of hers which makes me punch her right on her nose.

The other day she suddenly came up with the theory that I pretend not understanding Telugu but actually I do because I happened to put a Telugu channel on TV while channel surfing. And then there are days when she "accidently" hits my leg with the broom.

So all in all it is a hate-hate relationship. And I guess that's enough maid bashing for the day. :|

The eyes have it

Yeah yeah..the title is lifted from the ruskin bond story that we had in std XI cbse english reader. Its been 11 long years since they first entered my life. It had to happen at some point of time or the other. I resisted their trying to become a part of my existence but at last they did become a part of my life.
It all started when I went for a drive with my Dad and he happened to ask me what was written behind the car that was parked nearby. I complained of bad light and the fact that i had just spotted a school teacher going on a scooter with her husband and kid but in my heart of hearts I knew the time had come.
'Myopia it is', the blessed opthalmologist announced.-0.75 in the left eye and -1.00 in the right eye.He broke the shattering news with such mildness that I didn't realise the gravity of it until I reached home. My grandparents would not get convinced that it was a hereditary thing. They forced me to try carrot juice and pomegranate juice and a hell lot of other things.'Don't sit like this and read'.
Then came up the visit to the optician's shop. I was fascinated by the amazing variety of frames that he had.Now I wouldn't even have to use sunglasses while playing teacher-teacher I thought.I wanted the pink frame( i can't believe that still) but yes i wanted the barbie pink frame but had to settle for a brown plastic one because kids my age ended up breaking their spectacles every 3-4 weeks and I did not defy that law.
My peers in school were shell shocked and I felt wearing specs was a big handicap. So, when I would enter the school bus I would quietly remove my glasses and put them in my bag and while returning back home put them on before anyone could see it. That way both my mom and I were happy. Little did I know that my Mom was in the mood for some investigation. On the 'occasion' of Parent -Teacher meeting (it was nothing short of a festival cz on that day we got a holiday and our parents were supposed to go to school) my mother happened to ask my class teacher about the fact whether I wore my glasses in school or not. My teacher made sure that the next day I wear my spectacles for the whole day.From that day onward they are stuck to the bridge of my nose.
Time passed, I gained height and my eyesight worsened.I couldn't swim with or without glasses.And even for the simple things i needed my specs. But then i came to terms with it.I read a chapter in the 10th std icse reader and could relate to it so well. I looked around and saw millions of people like me.
Now spectacles are considered 'cool'. Not that I care about that too much. I know I have to live with it. I have accepted them as a part of my life. Only thing, now I use lenses instead of glasses.
I have also learnt to realise the importance of everything in our life. Surely, we must count our blessings!

ps-This note was inspired by an incident involving the breakage of my spectacles and me not having a spare pair and no contact lenses with me.

Local trains

Disclaimer: Frustration is the driving factor of this note.

They say local trains are the lifeline of Bombay( I like to call it Bombay and not Mumbai).I beg to differ. Local trains are like the deposits of cholestrol in the arteries of Bombay or probably like second-hand pacemakers. They seem so ancient that it appears the paan stained and ridiculously filthy coaches will fall apart any moment or rather the roof would fall on your head and yes there have been instances where it was impossible to sit inside the train because water was seeping down the roof and some lame person had decided to have a hearty lunch on the berth and very conviently decided not to clean it.
The local trains of Bombay are like dog vans in the peak hours.I still like to believe that the latter is much more comfortable. At certain major stations like Dadar etc, one gets pushed in with the crowd and gets pushed out of the train with the crowd.Wearing sandals is a big NO because by the end of the journey one's toes are sure to get mutilated. And do not expect a sorry because even the slightest groan could send cause tempers to flare up and subject you to the choicest of abuses, half of which you wouldnt even understand. The best option is to wear your earphones and try thinking of the pleasant things in life. Sadly, just as you are about to do that you see millions of people defecating in the open.You most definitely cannot ignore the stench emanating from the stretch between Bandra and Mahim.
You can try looking around but all that you see is the extremely obscence graffiti on the walls and the seats of the coaches. There are plenty of advertisements too saying "Pan card dhamaka offer" and some other random advertisements for Piles clinics, black magic and fashion designing institutes.
Local trains are probably India's biggest market on the move. You can buy anything ranging from handkerchiefs, cosmetics,linen, jewellery, stationery and books in a local train. And your bargaining skills are put to great test.
The local trains of Bombay are the biggest levellers. You cannot help but sit next to a fisherwoman who is still reeking of fish or sit four on a seat meant for three.Or have kids almost pouncing on you because they have come to Bombay for the first time and they still like to believe that it is the city of dreams.
Sadly reality hits one real hard.

Starters...

So well this is my first attempt at writing something about myself..I tried keeping diaries and journals once but never really wrote in them honestly or regularly..Actually to be honest I truly madly deeply love stationery and Savage garden too..uhmm yeah but I'll come to the music part later. And I have feel spiral bound notebooks hypnotise me and ink pens are like super powerful magnets. Coming to the point, the justification I gave for buying endless amount of stationery was that I will maintain a journal but at the end of it all of them got used up in solving physics and mathematics numericals and eventually went to the raddiwala person...sigh!

We moved to Bombay about seven years back. There was such a lot of transition. I mean you come from this really laid back place and you're suddenly thrown in the hustle bustle of a big city but I guess I adapted pretty well and I adore the city. The city grows on you. The city makes you feel you're special or rather the people who accept you with open arms and open minds. So pretty soon I was travelling around the city on my own in public transport and I loved it! I loved my new found independence that the city gave me.I've been witness to some of the worst the city has been through. The bombings and the terror attacks to name a few. But the resilience of the city and the people amazes me! And it does have an effect on you making you stronger and helping you stand up in life for what you want.

The city is a melting pot of cultures. I feel blessed to have some of the bestest friends who I know will stand by me no matter what. And this is one more reason why I love Bombay!

I am a big foodie with a major sweet tooth. You can feed me endless amounts of everything besides the usual ghar ka khana and can be assured of being my favourite person for that time.

But here, I crave for jalebis. I love jalebis and momos by the way.

And yeah I have watched a 2 whole season of Grey's anatomy back to back without blinking my eyes. I totally adore that show.

Coming to Music, I think A.R Rahman is a musical genius...I mean his compositions are so brilliant, I could spend an entire day sitting on the window sill with a cup of hot coffee and a book when it is raining outside with his music playing in the background.

And now I dont know what else to write about me. If you are reading this, most probably you would know me..if not, you'll probably figure out in my future posts. And please leave behind comments to motivate me to keep writing...

Anyway more later..Bye for now! Cheers!