Shades of Life

With my hands firmly on the steering of the car, I was trying to reach a destination whose route I knew by heart. It was in the same town where I had spend most part of my life. I knew those roads so well that I could even reach there with my eyes closed. But, even with my concentration bang on the road and keeping my eyes right over the beam of headlights of the car, I felt like a person who was in dire need of navigation. I was taking wrong turns on the roads I had grown up with. The streetlights on the road were somehow failing to serve their purpose. I felt like I was driving alone through a pitch dark narrow tunnel. The loud noise of traffic from the outside felt like falling on deaf ears. It was totally silent in the car. I could not feel anything. I felt like someone on a decent dose of afeem (opium) whose senses were shut down and whose concentration was hanging on the tip of a needle.

All I was trying to do was to follow the Doli of my newly wed sister. 

As per the rituals, the brother is supposed to deliver the sister's belongings to her 'new' home and family. Such a trivial task of delivering some pieces of luggage had never been so hard for me before. 

I had never thought I would feel that way. I am known in my family as the 'cold' one. I am known to be too practical, blunt, hardhearted, expressionless, feeling-less with my-head-before-my-heart kind of guy. They say, this is the reason I live in a 'cold' country like Germany with such ease. To an extent, I would agree with my family. I do not blame them. I prefer to have such an image.

I have had many fights with my sister as kids. There had been times when I didn't talk to her for long periods. I remember as kids when we used to fight and when my parents took her side I used to say, "When she gets married, I would light up the house with desi-ghee diyas". The house was definitely lit for the wedding but with a completely different feeling than of those times. I understood and knew that nothing would change after her marriage. I have anyways lived away from my family for more than 10 years now. She anyways had lived in Bangalore for a couple of years away from home for work. I knew that we do not live in times or society where meeting or going to sister's family used to be formal and seldom. I knew nothing would change but still why did I started missing her that evening would still remain a mystery to me. After all, I am the 'cold' one ! 

I still do not understand what kind of feelings took over me that day in the car. I never ever cry but there I was sobbing inconsolably sitting in my seat with a flood of tears and emotions in my eyes. I was unable to find my way.

There are some things unexplained in life. That moment would go down in my life as one of them. 

Gluttony as charged !

Normally, I don't like taking pictures of food. I prefer to bring it to its right place asap i.e. stomach. But a few weeks back, me and biwi prepared manchurian with noodles and it came out pretty good. Biwi forced me to take pictures and they came out good as well. Thought of sharing on my blog for a change to the lighter but fulfilling side of life.

I love cooking and feel that it is the best stress buster in the whole world. No matter what mood I am in, whether it is anger, depression, tension or anything else, it tends to mellow it down to pure pleasure. If there is anything I would like to do in my life at some point of time is to open my own Restaurant.

Another big fat punjabi wedding ... (contd.)

.... contd.

The Cook: How can there be a wedding without a cook. In my opinion, food is one of the most important ingredient of a Punjabi wedding. You can let Ambrika add another digit to their debt clock but you cannot and I mean absolutely not serve mediocre food at home to the guests. To hell with the bride and groom, if the food is not good, it was not a good wedding. So, my parents called a special cook all the way from Ludhiana on someone's recommendation. And I think it was my favorite part of the wedding. They were a team of 3 with one being the head cook, one helper and one server. It was top quality food with minimum spices and oil yet high on taste and nutrition. To my amazement the cook one evening even made Pakoras with Tomato!! I consider myself a big foodie and critique but I had never heard, seen or eaten Tomato Pakoras in my life. And trust me, they were out of the world!! I could not even resist the Ghiya (Bottle gourd) dish he made on the reception night for himself and his team. So, instead of having dinner with everyone at the Reception hall, I already had it before leaving home.

The Guests: Discussing anything about a Desi wedding is incomplete without talking about the guests and their peculiarities. I felt that the arrival/departure plan of the guests change more often than the weather in England. Arriving unannounced or cancelling plans to come without informing to make the person standing at the airport/train-station go mad after hearing the cancellation news is I guess normal practices at weddings. One peculiar case was that of a relative coming unannounced by car from Shimla at 2 a.m. in the night before the wedding day. It was unbelievable to see my parents standing outside the house at 3 a.m. in the morning with temperature around 2-3 degrees to receive them and to arrange for their bed while the Baraat was to leave at 9 a.m. the same morning !! Atithi Devo Bhava, I guess !!

 The Ending: As the famous saying goes, all is well that ends well. And so was the wedding !! Everything went well, the guests left with their share of sweets and gifts and no major disaster happened which my mom was worrying about all through the wedding. Now, my mom is a person who goes to bed early and gets up early. It is hard for her to stay awake after 9:30 in the night. My father has Arthritis problem in his legs and was very close to getting operated before the wedding but avoided it. Even in such condition, I could not believe the energy and enthusiasm my parents showed during the wedding. It seemed like they were a someone else during those days. No matter what the work was, it was done. They did everything. I felt a little ashamed of myself that I can never imagine myself working so hard for my kids wedding. My sister was nothing less than an Event Manager herself and contributed all her energy and time for the wedding. Everything from selecting the cards to preparing the itinerary to checking the decoration to selecting the wedding dress for me was done by her. I feel humbled seeing my family work so hard to make my wedding a success. No matter what words I say or what gifts I give them or whatever I do for them, there is nothing and absolutely nothing with which I can thank them. I wish and pray that God continue to shower His grace on them with a long and healthy life.

Although, I am a very simple person and wanted a simple wedding for myself with just few and selected members of our family and friends to attend it, I could not say no to the desires of my parents who wanted it to be a grand event. I am not a person in favor of extravagance or things like that but it was just to show respect to my parents that I agreed to do it their way.


P.S: I am sure many of you must have experienced such thing before but for me, it was the first wedding I attended in the last 8 years. And it happened to be my own wedding :) 

Another big fat punjabi wedding ...

Writing anything about a Punjabi wedding would sound cliche´d. Doing everything over-the-top from food to dresses to dancing, to the overall madness. I am sure anyone reading this post would have experienced at least one Punjabi wedding in his/her life or at least read/heard about it. So, let me not bore you with the general stuff. I will try to stick only to the specific event around my D-Day. Although I have always tried to follow the rule of not writing anything from my personal life here but then I have to also respect what George Bernard Shaw once said, "The golden rule is that there are no golden rules". So, let me pen down some incidents which might bring back memories when I read them here 10-20 years from now.

The Prelude: I reached India many days before my religious marriage ceremony so that I could do a court marriage to apply for my wife's visa in advance. There is not much twist in the story as there was in my back. A couple of weeks before leaving for India, I had a slip-disc problem. So, I reached India with pain in my back and my leg. I went to the doctor the next day after landing and he advised me not to bend and sit crossed leg on the floor. As soon as I heard that, I chuckled. And there was an "Yeah right !!" expression in my head. Imagine a wedding without bending to touch the feet of the million of uncle and aunties who would come to greet the newly wed. And a religious wedding without sitting crossed leg? Are you kidding me? Asking the priest to change that part would be like asking Mr. Ahmadinejad to close down his nuclear program. The doctor advised to take precautions.

The Invitations: The preparations started with the distribution of invitation cards. I personally feel that this is the toughest part among all preparations. Making the list, not forgetting anyone, to personally go and invite everyone even though you have not met them for ages and even though they live in the remotest part of your city. A personal visit is a MUST! One night, during the card distribution phase, lying in the bed with a bottle of hot water under my back to ease my back pain, I felt so amused comparing the contrast of life and culture between India and Germany. To visit anyone at his place in Germany would require an appointment to be made well in advance and not just banging into their house at any time of the day as in India. Even after invitation lists being made well in advance, sorted out according to the various regions of the city, according to preference in delivery, it took like forever to distribute them.

The Dresses: One of the things with which I am most amazed in my life is that why my dad has a single cupboard of clothes compared to the three which my mom has, not to mention. An almost similar experience I had with women during wedding. My mom, aunts, sisters, cousins all had a different dress for each meal at least for the last 2 days of the wedding! I am pretty okay with that but even though all of them knew 3 months in advance about the wedding, still most of them were still going for trials till the last moment.On top of that there was enough drama with the tailors. Some of the dresses were not made up to the expectations of the women. There was a lot of crying and moaning. New dresses were then ordered 3 days before the wedding. Aunt from Ambrika calling my Mom at 2 a.m. IST 4 days before the wedding and giving her measurements to order dresses for her, Cousin from Ambrika coming hours before the Shagan ceremony and 5 people going with him to sort out all his dresses for each event of the wedding. I mean, it was complete madness on the dresses front!    

More to come in the next post .....

Taking the Turn

I am a person, who like Sheldon Cooper does not like changes. Of course not to his lunatic extents but yes, I like to settle in and soak life as it comes rather than running after it. It is no wonder that I am working at the same place for about last 5 years. As per many of my friends in India, it is a career murder approach. But still, I am fine with what I have at the moment. I am a man of limited needs.

Life had been going on as usual. I had no complaints. I was going to regularly to work. Coming back home on time. Using my spare time for many other activities with which I keep myself busy. Calling home regularly. Going out to occasional dinners with my friends. Traveling whenever I got chance. But suddenly, things happened. Many of them at a time. It was quite overwhelming to see so many changes happening simultaneously with me. On one end of the spectrum, I was embracing the changes and on the other end, I was dead scared. I will not lie. That was September!

Then came December. I got married last month. Life finally took that turn. 

I had been relatively non emotional and with almost null sentiments since the last 10-15 years of my life. It is not that I was not enjoying life. But somehow, I feel that I had restricted myself and kept many things by myself. Most of all, I feel that I had detached myself from many things and many people like my family. Of course, I used to talk to my parents and my sister and my family but somehow I had avoided getting into that "moh" as we call it in Hindi (Cant find a direct English translation). 

But after taking that turn, things changed, life changed. Like everyone else, I used to love my parents and my family. But now, I have started loving them more. I have started missing them more. The pull of going back to India is at a level like never before. Priorities have changed in life. And truly speaking, I am amazed at myself. I had never imagined that I would change that fast, that priorities will change that fast. And it is not under any pressure, but naturally coming to me.

Even at -5 degrees with my car under a blanket of snow which has be cleaned before I can use it, I am not complaining. Things like this did not happened before!

There is so much I can write right now but I would try to control my feelings. Maybe some other time :)

 

P.S: Though none of my family members know about this blog but still if they see it, I would like to thank everyone from the bottom of my heart for the wonderful time last month and for the super great wedding party!! 

What is Love ?

 

History tells us that people around the world have done some incredible things for love.

Some became mad after the loss of their lovers like Majnu for Laila.

Some went as far as becoming a jogi (ascetic) like Ranjha for Heer.

Some had swum over the rivers like Chenab to meet their lovers like Sohni for Mahiwal.

Some walked across deserts in the thirst of meeting their lovers like Sassi for Punnu.

Some made monuments for their lovers like Shah Jahan for Mumtaz Mahal.

Some even took to other strange steps like England’s King Henry VIII to get rid of his second wife, Anne Boleyn by ordering her execution on charges of adultery and treason.


I think I have finally understood the meaning of love. I think I have finally found my true love - Mangoes. How else could anyone explain, me going to India tomorrow for vacations. At the time of year when people around the world flock to Europe to see its beauty, specially people from hot countries like India where the temperature blast over 40 degrees Celsius. And I am going home, to Delhi, to devour the king of fruits - Mango. 

It is the time of year when I usually plan my trips to explore the countryside of southern Europe. It is the time of year when people in central Europe particularly Germany, finally get the chance to enjoy the sun, when grill parties are organized every other weekend, when people are shimmering with joy on streets, when you finally see colors around walking on the streets, when everything seems alive. And I am going home, to Delhi to enjoy the 40 degrees of sunshine with regular power cuts. 

If that was not enough, I was even lucky enough to book flights on Air India. First time in the last 8 years, I am flying with the airlines which has been the golden feather in the cap of Indian misgovernance. And what better time to fly Air India when its pilots are on an indefinite strike for the last 8 days. The scene at the airport tomorrow would be überdramatisch as they say here and I am so looking forward to it.    


Home sweet home + Mangoes, here I come !

Dancing about Architecture

For some people, LOVE can be a very dangerous word and for some it might be quite an overrated one. There has never been a fixed definition of this word and many people say there never will be. Fair enough! I think everyone has his own definition of love. Like, my boss defines love as when he kicks away his pet cat at home and she still comes back to him, that is love. I ended up laughing my lungs out after listening this and a little shocked when I came back to my senses. To some extent it might be true but I don't think I will go all the way with his theory. Anyways, he has such interesting albeit a little shocking stuff to say sometimes.

I have observed recently that this word is slowly loosing its charm. It is being used very cheaply these days. I see people starting and ending their relationships based on Love. Some people who even once said they loved each other, sometime down the line declare that they are having a clean break-up. Now, with little brain that I have, I was never able to understand such scenarios. Is it really possible that if you really like and love someone, then one day you have no feelings for him/her and don't love each other. Was it really love to begin with? Is it just a kind of switch that you press on and off at will? I never understood such concepts. Moreover, I feel that these days, the society is slowly putting in a lot of pressure on people who really define and believe in the true value of love. A guy writing a poem for his love or expressing it in similar ways are sometimes looked down upon as gayish or even that the guy is such a loser. The same goes for the girl. A girl truly and deeply in love with someone is seen as unambitious and giving up his personal life for a stranger. The bad is the new good these days, I believe. Specially with the new generation TV programs which I see people liking sometimes make me redefine many things around me.

Anyways, I think I already did a lot of blabbering though I really wanted to revive some old folk love stories. I can talk of some which I am more familiar with because of my social background. Maybe there are many more and interesting ones from other cultures. Would be great if people share some. The most popular ones which I know are Heer Ranjha, Sassi Punnu, Sohni Mahiwal, Mirza Sahiba etc. But the one which had always fascinates me the most and close to my heart is Laila Majnu. The true story of virgin love which therefore also appear in a lot of Sufi poems. It is a very interesting story and I am sure many of the readers might also know it. But only a few people know that this story is originally from Arabic literature, later got its Persian version and then at end came to the subcontinent with its own version. But the basic idea and the main characters remained unchanged on their journey. Not many people also know that Laila was actually not very fair and Majnu was always teased over this aspect. And to which he always replied that people don't have the eyes to see what I see as mentioned by a poet in one of his poems:

kise keha jad majnu teri laila rang di kaali

aggon maju jhath kurlaya, akh na dekhan waali

Laila means night and Majnu means crazy though Majnu's real name was Qays. But true to the meaning of their names, Qays went crazy for Laila after he got to know that she was married to someone else. Rest we know is history. Qays died in a desert searching his love and Laila due to illness. Of course there are other versions of the story. But what hit upon me was the similarity to some extent which I saw in this Bollywood movie lately, Rockstar. The movie was okay in the sense that it left the judgement of the story totally on the audience to make at the end. That is how such a movie should be and I believe everyone is entitled to his/her own opinion. So at least speaking for myself, the movie was quite a contrast to the story I mentioned above. The only thing strange for me was that when the characters in the movie had so much feeling for each other then why did they not had the courage to end up together in the first place rather than doing it later ? In a modern day world, why would anyone end up in a loveless marriage as the girl in the film. And if for any reasons the lovers end up with different partners, why to go outside the institution of marriage later ending up in adultery. The characters in the movie doing it and people praising the story made me realize that maybe it has now become socially acceptable to take such steps.

A similarity I sometimes find in unfulfilled love stories is that the guy at the end finds resort in poetry or music. Maybe this is his way of expressing himself. Qays also wrote poems when he was lost in the desert, the character in the movie becomes a Rockstar. Another example coming to my mind right now is Shiv Kumar Batalvi, a famous poet/writer of Punjabi literature. The love of his life was married to some other guy and this guy then started writing poems which now takes an important place in Punjabi literature. From modern day life, I have a very close acquaintance who wrote a book (in 2009) about the untimely death of his fiance´ before getting married. The book turned out to be a bestseller in India. 

I might be totally wrong or naive in what I said above and maybe there is more to love than just words like madam Jolie said in the movie, 'Playing by Hearts' .... talking about love is like dancing about architecture.


P.S: I have no idea what I have written above !