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Archive for February, 2010

……. that now, instead of killing girls in the womb, they actually give them birth and then kill them!!

W H Y  ???

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……….. I just hate all the fuss around them!!!

I have simple tastes in life. That means, I don’t like the  zillion rituals carried out for engagements, weddings, naming ceremonies, etc.

I hated it all when I was subjected to it (though , parents were kind enough to tone it down for me) and I hate it even more when I have to attend other people’s functions. I hate dressing up in glittery clothes, piling on loads of jewels. I wore all that for my wedding (for parent’s sake) and now I have to wear it all for in-law’s sake. The BF has similar tastes like me and abhors the ‘decked-up’ look. When he’s around, I dress up simply, but smartly.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t with me yesterday when I had to go for one such event. One of the BF’s cousin’s was getting engaged. Also, her elder sister’s baby was being named that very evening. It was a two-in-one kind of a setting.

I dressed up in a shimmery outfit (at the behest of GMIL), and then busied myself regretting the decision  the whole evening. The glitter stuff was not kind on the twin’s skin when I was carying them and they were mighty uncomfortable. Also, in that large crowd, they got intimidated initially and refused to go to anyone else. So though both were clinging on to me, they started crying as soon as I lifted them in my arms. Luckily, the FIL and BIL took turns looking after one of them while I struggled with the other.

The crowd was loud and boisterous, the boy’s side behaving like the bosses of the world. I think each one of the woman from the guy’s side was on the dias . Even the videographer was exasperated when the only thing he was able to shoot were the large glittery rear-ends. We expected the entire stage to collapse at any time.

I can only hope that the couple are fine and have not asphyxiated from the lack of air. And yeah, I didn’t get a chance to meet them. Neither did most of the people from the girl’s side!! Once the formalities were over, the girl was whisked off to sit among her in-laws, never to be available for the rest of the evening. I did have a glimpse of her and she looked radiant. Well, at least she was happy 🙂 .  Me and the in-laws are not very happy with the match, but then, its her parent’s decision, not our’s.

The BIL was busy ferrying people to and fro from places. Fetching people to the venue, dropping them back. He should have charged for the services, I joked. He was too tired to crack a smile!

I left the venue at 10 pm, giving the excuse that RS had done her big job and needs to be changed. I did have the packet of wet tissues and a change of diapers, yet, I requested the MIL that I’d go home and change her. Poor thing, she was as tired as I was but she had to stay there till all the guests were done. After all, it was her neice’s function.

All this while, the twins were at the worst behavior ever. They refused to listen, they ran helter-skelter, almost made people trip and fall around them, picked stuff from the floor and put it in their mouths, refused to have their dinner, refused their milk, grabbed at other people’s food, ogled at women, kissed any randon kid within sight and kept me on my toes throughout.

I was more tired out in one evening than I ever was before.

The next time around, I think I’ll just dig in my toes and insist on staying back home with the kids.

Save myself the trauma!!

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Read two news items yesterday :-

1) For AIADMK men, Jaya is a goddess (Do check out  the image accompanying the text)

2) Qatar confers nationality on MF Husain,….

Makes me wonder….who is the real culprit here??

The people who give “Goddess” status to a person best known for siphoning crores of public money (in the name of gifts) ?

Or those who oppose a man for a painting , which depicted a goddess with no clothes? (Obviously, ALL our gods and goddesses were dressed modestly. ALWAYS!!! Khajuraho doesn’t exist. The Kamasutra doesn’t exist. I wonder where the old man got the idea that his version should be naked. The HORRORS!!)

In a way, we deserve to be stuck with people like Jayalalitha and also deserve to lose people like MF Husain.

One brings disgrace to our country, the other, laurels.

Best to discard the one who’s getting us a good name.

I have nothing to say in defense of MF Hussain. His pleas that his painting was un-named when sold and was called “Bharatmata” by the buyer fell on deaf ears. Who will listen to it now??

It’s best that he stays away. As far away from here as possible.

As for Jayalalitha, let her rule. She’s a Goddess after all. A fully clothed one, at that.

Isn’t that the vital keypoint to the whole issue??

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Why I envy Men

I got this in today’s mail and couldn’t help but agree with it!!

I do so hate guys for these very reasons :-

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Your last name stays put.

The garage is all yours.

Wedding plans take care of themselves.

Chocolate is just another snack.

You can be President.

You can never be pregnant.

You can wear a white T-shirt to a water park.

You can wear NO shirt to a water park.

Car mechanics tell you the truth.

The world is your urinal..

You never have to drive to another service station restroom because this one is just too icky.

You don’t have to stop and think of which way to turn a nut on a bolt.

Same work, more pay.

Wrinkles add character.

Wedding dress $5000. Tux rental-$200.

People never stare at your chest when you’re talking to them.

New shoes don’t cut, blister, or mangle your feet.

One mood all the time.

Phone conversations are over in 30 seconds flat.

You know stuff about tanks.

A five-day vacation requires only one suitcase.

You can open all your own jars.

You get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness.

If someone forgets to invite you, he or she can still be your friend.

Your underwear is $8.95 for a three-pack.

You almost never have strap problems in public.

You are unable to see wrinkles in your clothes.

Everything on your face stays its original colour..

The same hairstyle lasts for years, maybe decades.

You only have to shave your face and neck.

You can play with toys all your life.

One wallet and one pair of shoes ? one colour for all seasons.

You can wear shorts no matter how your legs look.

You can ‘do’ your nails with a pocket knife.

You have freedom of choice concerning growing a mustache.

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Is it OK for Men to prefer Working Wives ?

Or stay-at-home-wives/mothers? And why?

My FIL preferred a working women for a wife. The BF prefers the same. The BIL too has asked MIL to look for a working girl for him. Does it speak ill of these men that they prefer their wives to be independent women. I have heard sly remarks from people, that men who let their wives work are “incompetent to provide for them themselves”.Some even go to the lengths of saying that such men “live off their wives”. These statements are not only baseless, they come under the category of being “RUBBISH”.With a capital ‘R’.

I believe, such statements are made by jealous people. Sometimes, by women who rue the fact they are dependent on others for their daily survival. And sometimes by men, who struggle to make ends meet, where as their counterparts live in a comfortable style, owning to double income.

To work , or not, should be a woman’s own choice. Not one dumped on her due to family or society. There are many households where people would rather suffer than send their daughters/DILs for work .Irrespective of how educated or talented the girls are. I’m personally aware of such families. Well-to-do-families give the excuse that “there is no need to work, since there is no shortage of money”.

For me, work is not only a means to earn money. It is an opportunity to put my education to some use. Or, as my good faculty from college, BM used to say, “A chance to use the grey cells…..else they would die and leave one with Alzheimer’s!!” I like to work, to put in ‘x’ number of hours per day for an activity other than family life.It does not mean I ignore my duties as a DIL/wife/mother. It just means, I have to put in extra effort to encompass all these roles. Sometimes I score low, on all fronts…..but there are times when it all seems worth it.

My views stem from watching my mother waste her education. She is a highly qualified person with 5 degrees to her name and many diplomas. She would have been a Principal of a school by now, or an eminent lecturer in any prestigious college. Yet, she gave it all up for her husband and kids. Dad was in the Army. It wasnt possible for mom to stick to a particular school/college. Plus, we were 4 brats…never upto any good. Sometime way back (when I wasnt even in school, I remember , she was school teacher in one of those Army schools in Delhi). Once we got transferred to Bangalore, she gave up her career completely. I know she gave us all her time and effort. She pampered my father and his children. She was the perfect hostess in any party. She was the one to whom other women came for guidance. And yet, she lost her identity. She lost her ‘Self’ (if you know what I mean).

I regret that now. Terribly.

I have no idea how we would have turned out if she wasn’t around all the time. I do feel, however, that we wouldn’t have done so badly. But it would mean undermining the sacrifices of my mom. And I don’t want to do that.

I have a nice cushy job. It doesn’t pay well, but I’m doing good work and that matters. I may not continue in this line of work for long though. I’ll look out for different options, do something which wouldn’t require me to put in close to 12 hours everyday (including the travel time )! Life is pretty hectic right now. And I’m not able to spend as much time with the kids as I would have liked.

In all this time, the BF has never once asked me to quit or change jobs. He has been accomodating, adjusting his timings to suit my preferences. Like the time when the twins’ nanny was on leave and I had an important project release coming up. So I couldn’t take a leave. The BF suggested that I go to office early and come back by mid afternoon. After I come back, he would go to his office. Point of the matter is that the BF didn’t ask me to apply for leave or make excuses for my absence. He simply adjusted his schedule so that I could keep up with my project release. He so totally understands my need to do what I’m doing. Isn’t that great?

I mean, I take this behavior for granted. I wouldn’t have accepted anything else. But I know a lot many women who consider it a luxury to have a husband who understands their professional commitments. Women, who have to struggle real hard NOT to give up their jobs due to pressure from their own hubbies. Women, who face flak everyday, for not being at home for family , children.

It’s almost as if, having a homely wife is the secret desire of EVERY Indian male. I hear many guys saying that they are perfectly fine with their wives giving up jobs and staying at home.  They declare proudly that their wives are now home-makers, making us working women feel like traitors of our homestead !! While I’m totally against men forcing women to work, I do rue the fact that I’ve never heard a guy feeling disappointed that his wife had to leave her job.

I guess I’m just rambling on and am not able to come to any definite conclusion. I’m really not sure on what note on end this post 😦 .

But seriously, should women be dependent on men for their bread and butter forever? Is there any harm if they earn to bring in some Jam on the side?

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Flashing her goods

By now, I guess most of you would have seen Liz Hurley’s pitiful attempt at draping a sari 😀

You haven’t??

For God’s sakes!! It’s ALL over the net!! Go here and here.

Not only did she go bra-less and blouse-less, she also went petticoat-less.

The top half, if you can drag your eyes away from it, is still a very Hollywood style. Reveal more than you can cover.

It’s the bottom half that kills my mood.

I HATE the way she has tied the sari at the waist , clinching it in the most awful manner  ever. The pleats, IF you call them so, are non-existent (unless you focus on the unruly bunching at her tummy).

Mr.Nayar, the least you could have done was take a look at your wife before you stepped out of the house!! Now tell me, seriously, was it YOU who draped it on her?? If yes, she can be forgiven. You men SUCK at sari-draping. If not, then buddy, your wife just earned the title of the fashion faux-pas queen. Congrats 😀

 

Edited to add :

I did a bit of googling and found out that Ms.Hurley is not new to the sari. Check out these prior appearances of hers :-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I think she looks graceful in ALL of them

Wonder what happened this time round?!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Suffering in silence

 

Before you jump to any conclusions on the subject of this post, let me reassure you that it is not related to any social issue.

The title comes from my own silent suffering…….in the beauty parlour.

(Ok now, please stop throwing those pillows at me!!  STOP!! Am serious!!)

There’s this parlour I visit once in a while (like once in, MONTHS!). It’s  a small place, very private and owned by a very sweet lady. And each time I go there, by some quirk of fate, I get attended by this one woman…..the one who gives me the shivers!! She is efficient, no doubt, but seriously lacking bed-side manners (or is it chair-side? whatever!). She is sullen, sad, melancholy and monotonous. Yes. Thats her entire personality described there. I have nothing against her, mind you. It’s just that she has this habit of doing the unexpected. Like, for example, asking unexpected questions at the wrong time!

This time, however, she was in no mood to talk (YAY!!) and preferred playing some music instead. I was upstairs in the massage room, undergoing a facial , when suddenly, there came to my ears, a sound as bone chilling as ice. A shrill, raspy voice yelled “Saaajan, Saaajan….” even as my hair stood on their ends (I later found out that it was some song from an Aishwarya Rai movie, title I don’t remember, which had Arjun Rampal in the lead).

At the risk of cracking the face pack, I asked my attendant to turn down the volume, or better, turn it off.

Mujhe pasand hai“, she replied sullenly. And carried on with her work on another customer.

So I had no choice, but to listen to that gut-twisting song for what seemed like ages.

When it came to an end, I sighed in relief. Over. Finally.

Little did I know what was in store for me next.

There started this song, which seemed like Sonu Nigam had lost it completely and was warbling for all his worth. Turned out to be a song from the movie “Mela”. Yup, and you must’ve guessed the song by now. I had never heard the whole song before and I sincerely had NO IDEA that it goes on for , like AGES.

So after all the melas of the Mohabbat, Ashiqs, Dils, Jawani,Duniya, society, kutta, billi et all had gone by, did the song end.

By then, I was a whimpering mass of jelly, scarred for life, unable to even utter a single coherent word.  I finally understood, for once, what made Dominique Francon tick. What it means to suffer silently , specially, when the suffering is self-inflicted (I wanted to visit the parlour, didn’t I?!!)

What were the song-writers thinking?? Was this song supposed to be the next National Anthem?? Why make it so long?? Why have all the top singers in the industry chip in with a few lines, making me wonder at what all money can make a man do!!

Kitna achcha gana hai na?”, asked the attendant of the other lady.

“”Haan, bahut hit gaana hai“, agreed the lady.

“”Phir se lagati hoon“, cooed the attendant.

NAHHHIIIIINNNN“, said I, only to myself.

And for the second time in that parlour, I wished that the earth split and swallow me whole. I didn’t want to live through another run of that song.

But I didn’t have a choice.

Garble-gargle, garble-gargle“, went Sonu Nigam.

I had no option but to grit my teeth and settle down for another round of torture (and they say, Chinese excel at this activity!! Huh, little do they know!)

Luckily, the face pack dried halfway through the song. I practically helped the attendant get the remnants out of my face. Didn’t even let her wipe a wet sponge across it. “I’ll go home and wash”, I managed to utter. She nodded carelessly, too engrossed in her song to bother about me.

Have you heard the phrase about fleeing as if a dog was at your ankles, well, that was me, sans the dog.

I have personally vowed never to go there again.

But I know I will.

Just to see how much I can actually bear.

Dominique, you aren’t the only one.

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