Close The Gates!

Past few days have been difficult for Army Cantonments. The defence ministry has ordered all the cantonment roads to be opened to general public and all of us fauji wives can't stop worrying since then.

I found the following post on fellow army wife and blogger Neha's facebook wall: 

In the last 7 n half years of my married life to the man in uniform I have

- lived in 8 houses.. temporary and permanent, some good some bad
- my kid, just 4 and half years of age, has changed 3 schools in 2 years of schooling
- everytime we shift she cries for her school, for her house, for her friends
- I have learned to be brave and take every moment as it comes, learned not to get attached to things but just love the people
- I have lived in 6 states with varied climates and temperature and diverse cultures
- I have forgotten about my career and decided to stand for my family while he is away

All this to provide support to the "man in uniform" and help him serve the nation..

But if the nation cannot take care of us .. I think it all goes in vain..

It may be Neha's post, but the story is same for me too and for almost all the army wives, only the numbers may change depending upon years of marriage. The sentiments ring true for most of us.

Somehow, I find myself on both sides of the cantonment gate. This is a matter of deep concern for an army wife as well as a civilian.

Amid scorching Indian summer, this burning topic is keeping fauji wives uneasy (though 'uneasy' is an understatement!). If you are a civilian reading this, you may not be aware of the turmoil that we are going through, 15 to 20% of you may even be in total bliss, enjoying a little detour through the scenic cantonment in your city, now that all the gates are open. I am saying unaware because, none of my civilian friends, not even my family members are talking about it. There is a complete absence of any activity in this regard on social media, nobody seems for it, nobody seems against it, whereas every army wife is talking about it on all the platforms.

I am not saying all of these things as an army wife who wants to save her idyllic garden from prying eyes of people. Trust me, this is coming from someone who has been a civilian throughout her life and still is. Me and my sister studied in a school situated inside a high security Air Force Station 5 kms away from home, and we never faced any difficulty going to school, along with scores of other civilian students from neighborhood. The cantonment in our city is an open one, which means all the areas that a civilian needs to visit are open. A cantonment may house both faujis and civilians. This is true for most of the open cantts. It is a matter of common sense that sensitive areas should be kept closed for non concerned people in national interest. Here are some of the reasons why certain areas should be kept closed:

Opening all roads effectively makes army facilities and families sitting ducks inviting terror attacks, unwanted attention of miscreants, weakening the spirit of the soldiers who guard the frontiers without worrying about their family's security and safety back home.

I hope you understand that this is not a fight between army and civilians, this is an issue between policymakers and public. If the lawmakers want to compromise national security and peace, citing lame excuse of public inconvenience, then its their failure, their poor urban planning and execution, showing their lazy and corrupt ways and their shortsighted vested interest. They cannot make us (public) suffer for their failures.

Give it a thought.. does this issue only affect army wives? Should you be so quiet about an issue that might have serious implications on YOUR national security? Are we not a part of your society too? You, who change your profile picture and burn candles for women's safety, is your convenience suddenly more important than our lives? The ministry has issued a foolish order and you, blinded by the worthless sensation of a victory, are rejoicing, not understanding that this is a live example of how politics divides and rules! That a wide gap has been deliberately created where there was just a line, that this one order has brought out palpable hatred between army and civilian communities where there was none! This petty victory may cost you your future wars!

(Please excuse for a badly written post, there is so much to tell, I could write a book on this. Hope to share more on the topic soon.Thank you for your patience.)

Craft And Perspective!

The lazy woman is nowadays racing with time, trying to keep up with craft projects, writing assignments, Coco's exams, his coughs and colds and fevers, ladies meet preparations, Zumba classes, decoupage classes, welcoming guests, managing maids and combating severe water crisis, all alone while her husband is away on some official field area tour or locked away in his room preparing maps and writing assignments. 

 

So, it was a difficult choice when I was asked to accompany senior ladies to a nearby old age home and assist the old people with some crafts that they could sell and raise money. But the senior lady told me that I required to actually visit them only once or twice in a month, I agreed to accompany her. She also said that we needed to get something ready out of waste materials for the starters. So, after a lot of vague ideas, I used torn newspaper and comic strips on handmade paper to make the following cards and clicked them from every angle, praising my bright bulb of an idea.

But when we reached the home, all my sense of designer accomplishment vanished. We were greeted by a cheerful and old nun who beamed at everything that we showed her, but refused to accept cards made with newspaper, saying they would not sell. So I tore up all newspaper parts and replaced them with good coloured paper and other material upto the possible limit. I also threw in the pop up sunny card that was sitting on my husband's bar for almost a year now, and which is seen in this picture with all my re-decorated cards and a few others created by accompanying ladies. The old nun was incredibly happy to see the pop up card and I promised to make more of them for her.

After spending a few hours with them, we returned, clearly knowing that they did not want waste material crafts, neither did they want to learn anything from us. We could make crafts for them and they could sell it. Dozens of other crafts made by other ladies who visited previously made this evident. The home already had dozens of string lamps, cards, folders and flowers. We were now asked to make something different that would also sell well. The old age home people sell these crafts very cheap and we wanted to give them something that would still bring them a good amount.  

While other ladies attempted making lamps, flowers and wall hangings, I thought of using my old experience with paper crafts and utilized my Pinterest account to the fullest to get ideas. After going crazy pondering and wondering about what to make, I settled on making paper craft pictures. I also completed the above newspaper basket that I had started before my visit.  

I made two pictures, the picture above and the one below and sent them off to the senior lady who got them cheaply framed without glass. I also prepared two pop up cards pictures of which are at the beginning of this post. I had also intended to paint an Old Monk bottle to make a lamp like in this post, but could not do it and sent the blank bottle back along with all the ready stuff.

It was an awkward moment when the empty rum bottle came out of their bag when the ladies visited the home on their next turn and were taking out their crafty stuff.  

Last weekend we had a 'Linen Fete' organized at the local club where the old age home also had a stall and the senior lady informed us that all the stuff made by us sold off quickly. She specifically mentioned that my two pictures were sold in her presence. This got me thinking, who would have bought it and for how much? Who has a piece of my soul and what did it bring to the old people? 

Making cards on our visit, listening to the old nun's endless stories..

I did not need to wonder a lot, because a sweet sweet friend of mine came home to meet me and told me it was her who had bought one of the pictures. Though she wanted the one with roses and lamp, another lady was already clutching it dearly. I promised my friend we would make the roses-and-lamp picture again together. FYI Each of the pictures sold for Rs. 100 each which is a good price by old age home standards. 

It is needless to say that visiting places like an old age home can be an immensely enriching experience. If only young people were nicer! 

To The New Horizons..

Every journey has a story behind it. Why else would anyone leave the warmth and comfort of their home behind to travel across the length and breadth of continents, braving the elements, getting scorched in sun and drenched in rain? Especially someone like me, who was cocooned in the love and affection of my parents  in a small town home would have never thought of a journey which would take me from North to South and then some more places. 

It was a time when none of my efforts of bringing my life on a desired path were giving any results. All I had were wasted opportunities and shattered dreams. It was as if darkness was attacking me from all directions and I could see nothing but gloom ahead. But I was not ready to give up. I had to get out of that place and chase my dreams. I was not born to be dominated by the smallness of social boundaries drawn for girls, I was born to break them and find new horizons for myself, so I thought. The life that several other small town girls had was not meant for me. And I never ever thought any different from this.

There was a time when I could see girls younger than me getting married and having children, going about their lives in a run-of-the-mill fashion. Friendly neighborhood uncles and aunts would keep talking to my parents in hushed voices, while I tried to ignore them. I knew in my heart of hearts that that kind of life was never going to be my life. Thankfully, my parents never tried to decide for me and heard me out.

The next step was to change lanes and press the accelerator hard. I took the bold decision of moving to Delhi for higher studies and make an altogether different career than what I had originally thought. While my mother cried her eyes out and my father was worried sick, they still supported my choice. Delhi has not been in the news for all the right reasons, and especially for a lonely girl from a small town and an even smaller exposure to the ways of the world, it was like trying to conquer Mount Everest. 

After my first couple of journeys when my father accompanied me forth and back from Delhi during holidays, I insisted that I travel alone, as I could not bear the thought of troubling my parents, and I knew travelling was a huge source of anxiety for my father. After that, as if I had grown a pair of wings. I completed my management course and got placed in a reputed IT company in Hyderabad. I flew to Hyderabad with my parents and joined my company, and gained the reputation of a lighthouse in my small town circle.

As for those uncles and aunts, they are making their girls study professional courses and have ditched the plans of getting them married soon after their high school.

   

Written as a post for the prompt 'start a new life' for housing

Kids' music: Is There Such A Thing?!

.Scene 1. I was doing something in the kitchen of my first floor apartment in Delhi, when I heard a group of little girls (in the age group of 5-6 years i guessed) singing 'chikni chameli' downstairs, possibly they were dancing also, their sweet voices totally off key, completely immersed in this activity, with nothing whatsoever to do with the world. An unintentional smile crossed my face. I remembered how we as little schoolgirls used to present 'ek-do-teen' or 'nau nau choodiyan' whenever the opportunity came. I am absolutely sure that they did not understand the literal or otherwise meaning of the song. They also did not know what 'Pauwa' means or what are the implications of coming alone, stealthily. They were only spilling out the words with great enthusiasm, oblivious to the fact that adults were listening from windows above and drawing meanings, other than the little girls intended to.

Scene 2. Years ago, I went to this hip-hop dance class held in my office in Hyderabad, where one of my senior colleagues used to come with his wife and two preteen kids. As the trainer switched on the music on the first day, and the song blared across the hall ' I wanna f*** you', the colleague's wife mouthed a big 'no' with a crinkled forehead, but rest of us were already taking positions, trying to gyrate like the trainer from Shiamak Davar academy. I do not know what the family did, as I had to discontinue the classes for some reason. The trainer, however stuck to this song for the final performance as I came to know from my colleagues later.

Scene 3.  Last week, on the dance floor of a party, I stopped dancing suddenly and looked around at the crowd going crazy, which was a mix of young and old alike. What stopped me? The lyrics of the song which first appealed to children by saying 'I am a Superman' and then suddenly descended to the level where the protagonist claimed 'kar dunga maa-behen'. 'Is it only me?' was my precise thought, because no one seemed to care, and from toddlers who had just learnt to walk, to officers on the verge of retirement, everybody was busy dancing. While I was standing there, in the middle of the dance floor, like a dead duck in thunderstorm, wondering what is wrong with everybody's ears! Read more on World of Moms...

A Message For Indian Women: Break Those Rules...One At A Time!

Hi there,

My blog is mainly about how I go about my life, doing whatever, taking pictures along the way. I tend to have clear views about society and its absurdities, but I normally keep them to myself. As long as I am the queen of my own home and world, I am at peace, trying to make you see how little things add most value to life while you girls are searching the internet for answers on small issues like 'can girls wash their hair on amavasya?' (because that makes this My most popular post). Nah, do not feel bad. I have been there too! So I know these small issues can really add up to become a huge problem in our lives. 

If you are an Indian woman who is resourceful enough to find a computer with an internet connection, educated enough to type those words in English and smart enough to look for the answer on the internet, please understand that you are very fortunate, a gazillion times more than the average Indian( including all genders) to have all these resources, i.e. money, brains and time. Now the responsibility lies on you girl, to use them to do something worthwhile and productive. 

Yes, of course you can wash your hair on any day if you want to. It is your own hair. Believe me, the sky is not going to fall. God has better things to do than punishing someone for being hygienic, and if He (or She, who knows!)  is ever in a bad mood, the world has no dearth of criminals roaming on the streets. 

If you still have doubts (which you have, i know), here I am. I have done it all. I have experimented with my own hair and washed them on every single day of the week, and bam! nothing happened. I put to risk my own jars of homemade pickles and touched them with my bare hands, during my periods. Those jars are doing just fine. I also touched my plants and they are still green and flourishing.

By the way, I can be almost sure, if you have typed this question to reach here, you are a woman. I have never seen any guy who is ever bothered about this. Getting my point? You cannot go backwards and forwards at the same time. So set your priorities, whether you want to move ahead with everyone else, or let such ridiculous stuff pull you back.

And just chill. Shake off the notion that the gears of the universe run upon the amount of grease in your hair. If you really have to ask, ask correct questions which we all can be proud of. All the best to you.

Cheers!

Ye Saali Gaali...

How many 'Gaalis' (Expletives, abuses) do you know? What do they mean? How many of them do not speak about a woman's dignity (or lack of it)? Do you think you ever mean what you say in a gaali?

Many years ago, while we were enjoying the new freedom of  a job after studies, I used to be the flatmate of a girl who started taking pride in using abuses while talking, courtesy her new friends at work. Accustomed to the much polite Lucknowi Tehzeeb(?), I used to cringe listening to her gaalis in brash Punjabi style, which were more derogatory and hurtful to her own kind (i.e. women) rather than being amusing and uplifting. The girl refused to let go of her gaalis as she thought they made her sound cool. NOT!

Of late, Hindi movies have glorified gaalis via movies like Ishqiya and Delhi Belly. Sadly, expletives are actually ingrained in daily lingo of UP (The land of Lucknowi Tehzeeb) and Bihar as the writers/directors of these movies claim. Here, gaalis are so much a part of the tongue that two fast friends cannot meet without  addressing each other as 'Saale' which sounds casual and harmless, (but is it?).  We even have Gaali songs in weddings and other functions, and they are pure pornography in lyrics, potent enough to make one's ears bleed, mind it!

The structure and nomenclature of Hindi gaalis is such that they are almost always directed at an innocent, unsuspecting mother or sister somewhere. Gaalis from foreign lands, when used in India, become insipid in comparison to our desi abuses. Imagine calling someone an 'asshole' in Hindi. Would it be as effective and satisfying as a Hindi gaali of the nature of 'mother-sister'? Some people use one or two 'mother-sister' type abuses in every sentence that they speak. They are not bad people. I have personally heard them dish out such smelly, vulgar words without ever giving it a thought. More careful and sophisticated people avoid using expletives in front of women, but among men, they are all the same. Someone in this category, once uttered out a gaali in front of me, and as soon as he realized, he said ' Oh, so sorry!'.

The most cultured, educated men do not refrain from dishing out choicest gaalis once the matter comes to it. I am yet to come across a man who claims otherwise. What is it that urges someone to use gaalis of this nature? Is it the helplessness of not being able to harm the other person physically or in any other way that a word picture of the possible harm is created? Is it about harming a person or a woman (Mother/Sister/Daughter of the person)? Why does a person need to use crude language in order to fight? How does it help? How does committing an act of sexual nature against someone's mother or sister compensate for the loss/ harm/suffering of the abuser?  Are we not propagating 'Rape Culture'? After all, words become thoughts and thoughts become actions.

Its been probably centuries since women have been targeted in this indirect way. Is this the prize that we receive for being a good sister/mother/daughter? The icing on the cake is that we cannot even vent out our frustration by hurling a gaali because it will most likely boomerang.

Man, Woman and Religion - Part II

When it comes to fasting, nobody can beat Eastern UPites and Biharis. As it is dates on a Hindu calender look and sound like something sacred, as if there is some event/fast/festival everyday. Sample this: Parva (i.e 1st ), Dooj (2nd), Teej (3rd), Chauth (4th) etc.  For our folks, there are dozens of fasts each year, nearly all of them meant for husband and/or sons. It is also quite interesting that almost all of them require women to fast for 24 hours straight, some even longer without even drinking water.

When Karvachauth is in the air and someone expresses her worries about how she is going to cope up with fasting whole day, I laugh heartily (and secretly). For she does not know she is blessed to not have to cope up with Haritalika Teej,  a 24 hour-without water fast in a hot and humid August-September, as opposed to Karvachauth which falls close to Diwali, at the doorstep of winter, and you get to eat in the evening. I have grown up watching my mom do Teej every year with ease. (I admit that I liked it, so much that I secretly wished to get married soon and do it. And I do it!)

Fasts are actually meant to cleanse one's system physically as well as spiritually. Only if you do them properly. But some women take them so seriously that they would ignore health issues, doctor's advise or worse, their own babies. I have heard my mom often telling me how she used to put wet cloth over the bellies of her many 'Bhabhis' who would be either carrying or would have small babies who needed to be breastfed. Imagine not eating or drinking anything in that condition for 36 straight hours.

Though my mom-in-law is strict stickler to 'husband-and-son' fasting, I have heard her complaining about how all our fasts are without water while the more glamorous Punjabis and some others have fasts where they eat more than they would on a normal diet.

And I have never come across a man asking a woman to fast for him. It is the doing of women themselves. How did it all begin? I would love to know.

Continued.....

Man, Woman and Religion: Part I

Time: Early morning

Day: Sunday

Mood: Good

My father in law phones me. The gist of the call was general hi and hello. It also contained the information that my ma-in-law and her co-sister (my husband's chachi) had fasted the previous day as it was Vat Savitri Puja.

My mood suddenly did a U-Turn. Yesterday I had cooked a gorgeous mutton curry and had relished two meals out of it! Could they not tell me earlier? What the.... wait!!!

Why am I feeling guilty? What has fasting or non-veg got to do with my family's well being?

Does this 'fast for a long life of your husband and son' thing happen anywhere else in the world? I do not think so. It is a sole privilege of being born a woman in India that you become the absolute protector of the lives of the men around you. Nowhere else (likely) on earth is a man so weak that he requires his mother, sister, wife, daughter, practically all the females in his family to fast in order to live.

It all looks good and sweet if one looks at it from an angle where it is done out of love (then why don't we do it for our daughters/wives/moms?) and for the sake of tradition & culture (culture has better elements too!)



So much for a son: Chhath Pooja, Bihar's major festival which requires 2-3 days of fasting and many strict rituals. Women (sometimes men too) stand in cold water for hours carrying heavy platters of fruits and other offerings to Sun and Chhath mata.   



Best part is men really don't care about fasts. Heck, they are not even aware most of the times about the upcoming fasts and their 'importance'.

A research says that men do not like it when women at home fast. It not only demands their time and effort, it causes much emotional stress also. Test population: 3, My husband, his father and his grandfather. It is women who take up fasts and other such rituals and pass them on. It is also women who guide and goad their husband/son to gather materials required for the rituals and get seriously angry if everything is not done according to their wish. The target of their anger: Those poor souls for who the fasts are being observed.

It seems like in the name of being religious, women keep spinning a web around themselves so that they are occupied in all these 'vrats' and 'pooja-paath' and never really have to think beyond. How convenient!

Continued...

The Women's Day Compliment (?)

Which book defines what a woman should do?

Since I had to pick up my FIL from railway station,  I was wiping the dust off my car yesterday early morning, while morning walkers, people on their way to work were looking at me with some amusement. Why they were giving me those looks became clear to me when 3-4 middle aged sturdy looking women out on their morning walk passed by. One of them could not contain herself and commented in a strong Haryanvi accent "Ajj kal to laddakkiyan bhi gaddi pochhne laggi hain" ( Nowadays girls have started cleaning vehicles too.)

 

They stopped in a semi circle around me, smiling and nodding, to watch me dusting. An easy smile appeared on my face as I told the obvious answer "Jab chalati main hoon to saaf kaun karega? (Who else will clean, If I drive it) "

 

"Right, right." They nodded and walked away.

 

Though their statement lingered on. Whole day the thought bugged my mind. Was it a comment or a compliment? Why are some jobs so typecast? A woman driver is no longer an alien, but why does it look odd to people when she cleans the vehicle herself? Or is it a problem if I believe in self-dependence?

 

After arguing it in my mind, I took it as a compliment and smiled through the day.