Why, hello, self-doubt!

It's been ages since I posted here and as the pattern goes, I post here when I feel strongly about something. I've been feeling something rather strongly in the last 2 weeks. It's made me uncomfortable, unhappy and happy, doubt myself and push myself beyond limits.

I got promoted 2 weeks ago. There. I've said it. I didn't talk about it. My husband was on a trek when I got promoted. I sent him an impersonal Whatsapp message. Some people asked me why I didn't show any joy. Or, why I wasn't talking about it. Or, if I was being one of those 'oh this is nothing' kind of people. I didn't know and that's been troubling me.
People at work have been talking about it, my team sent me sweet messages enough to make me cry about it, my husband came back home thrilled to hear the news. My parents were proud. What happened to me?

I spoke to a colleague about it the other day and he asked me to think through, step back from the daily 'khit-phit' and so on and so forth. Made sense. Pushed myself to do that (something I've been trying to do for quite sometime, btw). Did I deserve it? Had I performed that well? Didn't the x metric look bad? Didn't my presentation suck? How many new ideas have I had in the last 2 months? Nil. So, I needed to get back on track. Get up at an unearthly 4 AM, read up, be on top of every email, every conversation I might need to have. Exercise, feel guilty for every coffee break I took...Just didn't end.

Today, this nice guy I work with pointed out how it isn't about my past performance, but what I could be capable of. And how I was being an obstacle to my own success by letting this affect me. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I've been talking about it forever and making my fellow female colleagues realise it. Making myself realise it at every step, but when it came down to me striding forward taking charge, I dithered. The Damocles' Sword of effing self-doubt. I don't know if it's because I'm a woman. Or, if it's because it's me. Either way, not right. I think it's because I'm a woman. I'm yet to meet a male colleague who has gone through the emotional trauma I go through every time something nice happens professionally to me.

I suddenly wondered if I was worth it. It hurts me and my  feminist ego that I couldn't figure this out earlier. I wasn't like this when I decided to stand up for myself and refused to write the CET exam. I had no doubts whatsoever then. I had no doubts when I threw all caution to the winds and decided to get married to A after talking to him for 2 hours. Or, when I decided to be myself when I speak to my customers. The sword fell on top of my head today. The bricks, the sword. Quite a day it has been.

Talking about this openly has helped me. And I'm hoping it helps a lot of women I know that suffer from similar bouts of madness. I'm going to stop treading on egg shells. And run. Run as fast as I can and enjoy it. My knees might get damaged forever, I might trip and fall, dogs may chase me and I might not make good time. But hey, I didn't quit because there is this stupid voice in my head telling me to quit.

Oh yeah, meet the new Director on the block, baby. We'll talk on LinkedIn now ;) 

Back to business

I'd fallen into a nice rhythm. Yoga, work, home, cooking, getting ready for the big move to our own home. And then it happened. I went to a very close friend's wedding reception, convinced the workaholic her that I need to get back to work the next morning and not spend time watching her get married. We agreed to meet once she settled down.

Got to my mum's house, spent the night and woke up early next morning to get to work to start on my June goals. Full of hope, optimism and a lot of resolve. It was right after my appraisal and I had everything to win and nothing to lose.

Then it happened. Buckling stomach pain. Ready to collapse. Took meds and thought I'd sleep it away and go back to office later. It might have been the food from the wedding. Or, food from the roadside stall I'd thulped Pani Puris from. My sister, the world's best doctor dropped names of several illnesses. Not one to shy away from big illnesses or fear that something was wrong with me, a medical appointment was sought.

Spent a month at home. Doing nothing. Thinking about nothing. But just lying down and sleeping and eating and getting fed up of everything.

I came back to work almost a month later. There was no way anyone could stop me. I was going mad at home staring at the fan. On some days at work, I thought I'd made a mistake coming back. By the time I walked down to the kitchen to heat my lunch and come back to join the others, I'd be panting. I wasn't the same. Didn't feel the same. Couldn't run up and down the stairs looking for information. Couldn't cope with stand up meetings. I had to sit down. Couldn't think because I was busy trying not catch my breath. I didn't like it. I rebelled continuing to stand. Paid the price every evening when I got home and collapsed on the bed in pain. I'm 30 years old and I was going to live with back pain all my life.

I'm also a woman who hopes to set an example for other girls in my office and my life. I wasn't going to be a wimp and not stand with all these men and get work done. One particular day, after a harrowing, hectic day, I skipped dinner and slept at 7.30 PM oblivious to everyone and everything. This is quite significant considering I'm an insomniac even on the most hectic of days. I woke up at 3 AM the next morning. Opened my laptop to start working. I remembered someone then.

A colleague worked really hard and was absolutely brilliant at what she did. On a Saturday, when she was working from home, her 6-7 year old kid asked to go out to play and she said yes. The kid came back hurt. My colleague lost it. She called and cried and was panicked.She felt guilty she was working instead of spending time with her child. Everyone was calling her an irresponsible mother. The interesting thing was that the father was around at home as well. No one said anything to him. And she has a fairly supportive family. I'd been very vocal in my support for her and told her that it wasn't her fault. One of my colleagues was invited as part of Women's Day celebrations at her child's school and was asked to speak. She wondered why they'd asked her to speak.

I had issues. I was beating myself for something that wasn't in my control. No one thought I was weak because I wanted to sit down. No one thought I was weak because I didn't want to run up and down the stairs. Only, I thought about it.

I'm making a conscious attempt now. To sit down when I want, to get home early and rest my back. To delegate and not do everything myself. This has been a huge lesson for me in terms of honing my leadership skills and in terms of not being guilty. This is the jolt I needed.

I plan to have it all because I think I can. I will make sure others in my position - men and women get all the support to do what they want to do, what they think they can. Not going to limit myself or all the men and women I work with limit themselves.

Why can't you?

There is this boiling anger inside of me. Not able to handle it. I'm not yelling or crying. All that stopped long back.

Tried everything. Run like crazy, work with a vengeance, eat like a pig. Nothing helps. The anger inside of me just doesn't seem to go away. Even when there is no rape 'case' hogging the headlines. I wasn't even going to write a post about it. I just read something in passing on Facebook. About how the crowd gathered didn't bother to cover the girl and her friend who were lying on the road, bleeding, naked.

Where did the infamous Indian culture which doesn't allow our women to wear jeans vanish? How could you stand and stare at a woman bleeding and lying nude on the street? Isn't that a violation of the rules in your warped moral system? Why? Because it is a rape? So, it's okay if she remains naked. Because it doesn't matter anymore?

Or, is it because, now that she's raped, everyone else can gawk at her too. Everyone else can remark on what she wore and what she didn't wear. One more person who points out about travelling in groups will fucking get a supaari from my end. I swear. How do you explain acquaintance rape? I guess it doesn't happen in your world. Same world where  no one has sex and women produce babies like magic, I assume.

This is clearly an abuse of physical power. Sometimes I get so mad thinking about this and in my head, I beat every man in my head with this huge club. And hurt him where it hurts the most. It's sad because I'm surrounded by some good men. Some nice men. And I'm forever on a vigil. It hurts now mentally and physically to keep thinking of this. To keep alert all the time.

I don't know anymore. And don't want to think rationally anymore. I vote for castration. I don't care if it is inhuman. Or, if we shouldn't have a tit for tat thing going on.

No more civilized debates for me, thank you.No more mention of ethics, please. You can keep it to yourself and write editorials with big words and quote the law and nod all you want.

I say, fuck you.

Don't worry, take it slow!

That is what I'm trying to tell myself.

As a woman nearing 30, the pressure on me is really high. Trust me, I laughed it off too when I read all those articles, watched all those TED Talks. With a job I love, and a family I want to prioritise, it's becoming increasingly tough. People are praying so I have a baby. I have no clue if I want one, yet.

Last week at work taught me some things about myself. I can work hard and push myself to the core. (Whose daughter am I, after all!) I can continue to be patient and smile and keep doing what I'm doing (reminds me that I'm becoming my mum) and blow up elsewhere. Only. I don't want to do the last part. At all.

I've had my share of crazy work. College Theater club activities, Mess secretary related responsibilities, weddings at home  - have all been beyond crazy. But proving myself to be that perfect woman at home and work? That didn't exist. As much as I try to run away from that stereotype, it comes back to bite me.

So, it's a pledge taken publicly now. I will prioritise my happiness over everything else from today. I won't think of how much money I have to save, how I have to give birth to babies that will save this world, how I'm not doing any favours to myself by working 24/7, or how I don't have to save this world.

 I need a saviour. From my expectations, from my prejudices. From my all-burning passion, sometimes.

I'm pretty happy now. With work and the life decisions I've made. But like my mum says, there's always room for more.

I want to be happier. And that means a whole lot to me than anything else I've accomplished or going to accomplish.

They say it takes 30 days to make something a habit. I'm being generous to myself and give myself 3 months.

Roughly :)


.

It's not over yet.

This post isn't about men groping me.

I was 13 and used to come home for lunch from school everyday. A ton of other kids used to do the same. One guy decided to show his organ to me. I had no freaking clue what to do. He wasn't abusing me or saying anything to me. He asked me for the time, dammit! If it wasn't for a worldly-wise classmate of mine who pulled me and ran to school with me, I really don't know what I'd have said or done. No, he didn't touch me.

Nothing changed when I was the independent, empowered woman in Hyderabad. I mean education empowers us, right? And I was earning too! Now that made me absolutely eligible to belong to the group of career minded women. I deserved all the abuse all the more though I thought no one could touch me.

My room mates and I went grocery shopping and while waiting for an auto, at 7.30 PM wearing clothes like a pair of jeans and a tshirt and a salwar kameez outside a fucking mall, 2 men decided to ride past us on their bike and spit paan at us. On our faces. I can't even describe what I felt that day. Or now, when I relive that incident. At least, they didn't touch us.

Of course, the contentious issue of letting women drive on the roads. So much worse than drunk men or road rage, certainly. There was a time when I drove every single day. On my Kinetic Honda. Women are scared, so we stop at red lights. So, we deserve to receive the honking treatment from behind us. And comments on how we can't drive. Or, how stupid we are to stop when there is no other vehicle anyway. But hey, he hasn't touched me.

Or, when they swish around you in bikes. No one touched me. How lucky am I! Or, when they leer at you from the back of the bus and you feel it behind your back but are too scared to turn and check. Why not, you ask? Now if you look at him, that will provoke him further. First lesson we are taught as girls. He hasn't touched you, right?

Or, when the bastard of auto drivers purposely drive on potholes and adjust their mirror just in time to see your chest heave up and down as you focus more on not falling out of the auto. Stop complaining. He hasn't touched you!

Or, when men just refuse to look you in the eye and talk to you. They look elsewhere. I have a strategy. I directly stare at their crotch. What? I didn't touch anyone. Or anything.

I'm a girl who grew up in Bangalore. Middle class to upper middle class family, good schools, good neighbourhoods, parents who listened, a nice father,good uncles, amazing brothers. I'm grateful. (I mean, I should be happy about all this because hey, it's all relative!)

But when I walk out of my house, I still clench my fist and get ready for battle when a guy comes close to me. Someone walks past me as I'm walking from the bus stop to my house, I immediately clench my fist, take stock of everything and everyone around me and I'm ready for the umpteenth fight of my life.

I know exactly what I will do if he touches me.

First, I will yell and make a scene.

Hold him by his collars and question him. Then I will resort to physical violence.

No, no. I should yell and run. What if he has a weapon? Okay, let me carry a weapon.

Shit, he's smart. He attacked me from the front! Fuck, my breasts hurt, but okay, I should just bend my head and walk away. Isn't as bad as rape. Thank God.

Okay no. Don't let them go. This is not a pub no? This is the middle of the road. Yell.

Oh, I take the same road everyday? Hmm. Glare, make some noise, but quickly hope it dissipates and walk away.

Take an auto for the next one month and live in mortal fear. Or, ask the husband/assorted nice men in your life to drop you. Some men are good no? It's okay if they don't really understand what you go through the moment you step out of that door.

Phew. Some strategy, this. Calling the police has become redundant after a policeman told me once to 'adjust.'

"Alla, nimm hathra car idhe alva? Nimmanthavru yaakri bus alli hogtheera?"

("So, you have a car, right? Why do people like you take the bus?")

Correct. Why this tension?

Take the car. Protects you just like not going to pubs will protect you from those lechers. Just to be safe, don't come back home late just because you have a car.

When I sometimes sit down and wonder about the amount of thinking I do everyday on what I have to wear, how I have to walk, how much eye contact I need to have with strangers, with male friends, with male colleagues, how close a guy is standing next to me, or how I shouldn't have worn a white dress in the sweltering summer. The sun makes the dress transparent. Oh, the rain will make it see-through.

I spoke to someone on Twitter about castration. He had a very sane statement to make. Why punish inhumane acts with inhumane punishment? I was tired. Just one more reason to point out how women can adjust. Jail or capital punishment should solve the problem. Let's forget for a minute that it hasn't done what it has to do: teach such men fear of punishment/law/loss of life.

Because, dear friend on Twitter, losing their ability to have an erection is considered significantly more inhumane than losing their life. Or mine.

And that is where things fall fell apart.

P.S. - The someone on Twitter is actually a nice guy. He was making very sane statements considering all of us women were really mad. It was a very genuine question he asked. So no offence to him.

What happened the night of the day before.

There have been a couple of incidents that have happened in my life that has taught me a ton. About myself and others. I've hardly spoken about those not because I'm afraid of speaking about them openly or any such feeling. I look at them as something that just happened in my life. The last incident that happened day before yesterday turned me into a person I am not,  never was and hopefully will not continue to be. Friends called me a overthinker, my dad said I panicked a lot and I know I got a little paranoid.

I was in Class 5 when I was 'abducted' by 2 teenagers. That they were both girls probably fills my parents hearts with relief even today, I think. They told me that they were my dad's friend's daughters and wanted to invite us for their bro's wedding and I followed them. I trust easily and make friends easily. They took me through Bangalore's old city and stopped at a dead end and slapped me and took my tiny gold studs away. I waited, tried calling my frantic parents from the store nearby and finally found my way home. I ran for my life that day. I came crying out of fear that day. Police station rounds were made, complaints written and the girls were caught. I saw how the police spoke to them too. We decided to let them go with a warning because I'm sure my dad, for all his bravado, is a softie inside and didn't want to see two 15 year olds in a rotting jail with other hardened criminals.

I was going to get married in 10-15 days when I visited the police station with a criminal complaint the second time. 5 men came home. Ours was a house that was away from the gate and I took all precautions. I looked through the window to see a guy with documents. I asked him who he was and he mentioned 'courier.' I opened the door and he mentioned a random name. I said that this was the wrong house and tried to close the door. Little did I know that there were 4 men waiting below the window I looked out of, waiting to pounce on me. In a matter of seconds, 5 men were in the verandah of my house. I was at home with my two grandmothers. One was an invalid by then, with a young nurse and the other limped. I knew that if I let them go beyond the verandah, we were doomed. I yelled and fought and kept those 5 occupied with me while the young nurse ran out to help and my granny came out yelling. I still don't know what it is that made all the 5 men pay attention only to me. Surely, I was just a 25 year old girl and 2 men were more than enough to subdue me? Maybe they thought there were more people, but they got scared and started to run. I ran after them. I didn't think twice. I don't think I will do anything different today. I ran behind them across the lawn, fell down clumsily, held onto one guy who kicked off his chappals and ran away. I ran behind him and he was at an arm's length. Then I realised. I felt cold air on my chest. Bangalore wasn't this hot that March, you know? My kurta was ripped. Ashamed and scared and hurt, I walked back with my grandmother who came running behind me. I went inside to change to see I'd been stabbed.

I was admitted to the hospital. Media came, media went. Police came, police went. I was told I'd been brave. I'd saved my grandmothers. But one thought stuck with me. Why did they rip my kurta? They came to rob. They could have, they chose not to. They were unsuccessful. What does that have to do with ripping my clothes? Did they expect that I'd run after them? I went to the police again then trying to remember their faces,  and didn't talk of the ripped kurta. It was at the back of my head though. With me not being able to breathe, I couldn't have been Nancy Drew just then. I struggled to eat and breathe and I was getting married in 10 days. March 8 is International Women's Day. I got a Bravery Award. Only, I was getting married the next day. Like any girl's family, my parents obviously thought marriage was more important than a Rs 10k award. Except my dad. He was bent on me going there. But by then, I myself had forgotten it all. I'd decided to move on by getting married and moving away. I didn't recognize the guys anyway.

A year later, I came back home and my dad asked me to go collect the reward from the Govt office. We went to discover that a policeman had brought a 'Nandini' with appropriate ID to collect the award.

Day before yesterday, we were driving down the KTPO road when we found 2 guys on a Scooty (I have the Scooty number too) driving zig-zag. We waited for a couple of mins to see if they'd do the right thing. They didn't. We had vehicles behind us and I lowered the window to tell them " Please straight oDisi." ODisi is Kannada for 'drive.' They moved to one side and we passed them. That was the end of a normal day for us. They chased us after that yelling and banging our car with their hands.They banged on the passenger window and tried to stop us from taking a turn by coming ahead of the vehicle. They came between the divider and the car and made us go fast. Then at some point, my husband thought that if they continued this and we reached a signal (there was a signal expected ahead), we might be harassed further, so he took a sharp U turn while I tried calling 100 (Police) The line was engaged. Then I immediately called a friend who stays nearby and asked her to expect us. She spoke to her security guard and they let us inside their gated complex. We crashed in, movie-style. I was shaking by the time I entered. In my head, I know I can handle physical fights. I have, in the past. But a car chase is something else. After 10 mins at my friend's place, we got out thinking this was a one-off road rage incident. Those men were waiting for us at the corner. They chased us again! We again went on a car chase, but this time I was clearer in my head. I called my friend again and we went back. This time those guys tried to enter the gate saying they were from the 'government.' We asked the security to discreetly take their vehicle number down. The security informed us that they waited for 15 mins and left. We called the police and were connected to a fairly responsive police officer who said he'd talk to someone in his Station and send us an escort.

I even told him that they are right there and that they should get them first. I could wait at my friend's place. Then the Whitefield Police Station called and spoke to me in a highly disgusted tone. And they didn't know my friend's place which was a mere 5 mins away from their Station and falls in their patrol/beat area. It took me 20 mins to explain to them where I was. And in the middle of it all, when they didn't understand, they asked me to come to a common point! Finally 30 mins after my call, they came over to escort us. As we were being escorted out, we saw the guys who chased us! Standing by them were a couple of officers in plain clothes.And a Cheetah bike. One officer spoke to us and we told him exactly what happened. And he mentioned that those guys told him that this was an accident. Apparently, someone in a car similar to ours (number plate, colour and make-wise) hit them and escaped, so they thought our car was that car and chased us. Really? A 5 year old who reads Enid Blyton won't believe that story. I asked about filing a complaint and they said that we could come tomorrow and file a complaint. He told us not to get off the car.

Today, according to their update, that vehicle was involved in chain snatching. Surprised, I said, why trace when you had those people yesterday? Equally surprised, the same Inspector who was responsive that night told us how there was nothing of that sort in the night report. I sat there shocked. How was this information not in the night report? This means we don't have a case. And there are two possibilities here.

1. The police is dumb to have let them go.
2. The police or that particular person who spoke to us is an accomplice. Or, these are regular rowdies who pay them regularly. We even checked on the person who spoke to us with the Hoysala vehicle escorting us home.

When the Inspector promised to check back, he kept me on hold while he inquired in Kannada about what happened the previous night. I heard mumbling but the Inspector was clearly mad and he said in Kannada " DaDDaru ree nam janaa." (translated to 'our people are fools.') So, I thought of believing possibility 1. Then, when I think back to the conversation with my friend's security guard, I realised something. The men, when they tried to enter the complex behind us, gave their names and a 11 digit phone number saying this is the Whitefield Police station number. Of course, I realise this is the security guard's version. However, one of the names that those guys gave them was the same as the name of the police officer who was apparently on duty that night. That name isn't a common name. Surely, this isn't a coincidence? Either they've been in and out of jail and knew the police officer's name and used it to their advantage. Or, of course there is the worst possibility that I'm going crazy about.

With all my police station experience, I know I did the right thing at every point except that I didn't put my foot down and file an FIR the same night. If I didn't file an FIR, they couldn't have kept those people in custody. Fair enough. But not putting it in the report? Surely, something else is wrong here!

I have a 100 theories about every single thing that happened and thanks to my previous experience, I focussed on remembering details this time. I remember what exactly happened, at what time it happened, who we spoke to and how it could have happened. I don't see a way of avoiding this situation apart from the possibility of just not opening the window to tell them anything. But then, I wonder if that'd have made a difference. Were these people waiting on that road for cars like ours to come by so they could intimidate them and rob them? I've read stories where it is mentioned that the area we got chased in gets isolated at night because it's an 'office' area. So, there are people waiting like this to ambush the corporate crowd.

Today when the bell rang at my apt, I shuddered in fear. I refused to open the door. I called the security guys of my apt complex and everyone else on chat and phone and created a huge ruckus. It's possible it was an innocent resident or one of the service people. But I was terrified. I know for a fact that I'm not a paranoid person. I'm not a person who scares easily. I'm not someone who worries over things like this. But today I was, beyond any explanation. During my sister's wedding last month and I was at home alone once, I refused to open the door to a plumber my dad had sent from his office next door. I was quite surprised. This came 4 years after the stabbing took place.

I've only grown paranoid slowly because both the times, the guys were so close to being caught. We almost had them.  This time, I learned from the past and did everything right with the police and they 'seemed' to have let them go. It hurts.

I haven't shared details on this post like the names of the police personnel, the time this happened, the number of the vehicle involved because I'm not letting this go. I'm going to follow it up to see if the police actually let them go. I've not gotten over the men I let go last time. This time, these bastards are paying. Or, at least I'm giving them a fight.

I know this sounds like a random post, but I want to put this out here. 

Sweet November.

It's already November and one more month and it's going to be a new year again. This time, I'm really excited about the new year. Actually not just this time, but always. I don't have any regrets over the old year or that I'm getting older. I just like the last 2 months to speed by ( like everything in life!) so something new can start. Sometimes, that affects my 'happy' state because I'm wondering when this is going to end and the next phase - good or bad start. Must change that. That said, I had a pretty good October.

Most of my challenges worked out well. I did figure out how to wear a sari, though wearing a silk sari troubles me to  no end and I'm going to have to practice a lot more for that. I did the festival hopping really well and managed everyone in my family and extended family/friends group rather well. I think I've arrived as a Maami officially.

The cycle has been postponed thanks to reasons like laziness to find parking at the store near home and forgetting there are other stores in the city too. Very valid reasons, you see. Same goes for the license. Reading happened in full swing though!

October seemed to be a month where I either worked, micro-managed some people or went to other people's homes. There wasn't time to do 'my chores' per se. Except of course, a rather hurried 2 day getaway after all the people and work madness. This brought us to sweet November. Sweet because I'm back from a vacation and I'm in that good spot :)

My challenges this month.

1. The license challenge continues. All I need is to go to the RTO.
2. The food blog again. Which I forgot to mention in my 'didn't happen at all' part of the post. 4 posts this month. I have it all written already. Promise.
3. Push myself at work more. I can't reveal my goals here unfortunately, but hope to get going with lots more work.
4. Get through all the bookmarked readings on Instapaper. I love Instapaper like I hate it. It just makes it easy to postpone reading.
5. Plan a girls getaway with a friend. And meet another set of really close girl friends somehow.

Every month teaches me something new. Some of you may wonder how this is helping at all since most of the time I hardly achieve anything. I do achieve something. I do regular pedicures now - it's relaxing if not anything else, my fitness levels have improved thanks to previous challenges and just the fact that I keep thinking that I have these challenges keeps me on my feet. Some of us need a push like this. And I'm doing well with it.

If nothing else, the past two months have shown that I may have taken on too many challenges (because I'm a compulsive list maker!) in the last 2-3 months. So, this month is sober. No major goals, just extremely utilitarian things that need to get done.

So, how is your November looking?

She

She'd always let him down. She was a firebrand feminist who never listened to him. Never heeded his words. He wasn't always right and she made sure to point that out to him.

Today, she regrets every single time she fought with him. And wants to make amends. Constantly trying, constantly hoping that things work out in such a way that she will get to make amends. That she will do something for him, something that he may remotely want.

Some children don't disappoint. They are the perfect children. She never was one, and never wanted to be one. She was proud she wasn't one, mostly. But today, she wished she had that blind devotion. That blind, searing love to stand up for him.

But because she is a she, she can't be that perfect child. Yet again, so someone else can be a perfect child. And that someone else is always a he. 

Wake me up when October ends!

That should have actually been my line in September because I achieved nothing. Nothing at all. I ran a bit, but hardly read the books I wanted and didn't do much with the food blog. Total #fail month, September was.

October looks crazy already. I know it hasn't even begun, but so far I have plans for every weekend. Ya. None of it involves relaxation or things for myself, necessarily. I'm going to be running around and catching my breath this month with social obligations.

So, my challenges this month?

1. Get the car license figured out. 
I left home at 19 and never got around to getting a license. I need to get back to driving on Indian roads and figure out license without a bribe, that is.

2. Smile through all the social obligations and visit every aunt, every cousin, every grandmother and every friend's house with aplomb and joy.
It's unbelievable how busy the festival season is, for a married me in my home town. But I came back to India to be close to family, to have fun during all these festivals and get back in touch with long-lost cousins and watch my nieces and nephews grow. And I want to do just that this October!


3. Practice wearing the sari religiously everyday.
I'm ashamed to say I don't know how to wear a sari. I'm going to have to wear a sari in 4 months time without anyone's help since I won't be the bride or the newly-wed or the recently wed anymore.

4. Read everyday for at least 30 mins.


5. Start cycling.


6. Food blog, food blog and food blog. 
This challenge comes from last month. This time, I think I've planned it well in my head. Dishes and photos included.

So, wake me up when October ends and hopefully it will be a dream of a challenge.

P.S.- No, not finished Infinite Jest beyond 20% of the book. Pushed to November. Aim to finish it in 2011.

I'm feeling lucky?

I just saw a TV show that I don't normally watch. I don't watch TV. For some reason, I watched this show on Sony TV 'Crime Patrol.' According to the premise of the show, the show recreates real life cases/incidents. Thanks to insomnia and because I was already sprawled in the middle of the couch, I decided to watch what it was all about. I thought I could live-tweet a hilarious 'san-sani' serial.

Today's case was that of abuse within marriage. So commonplace right? Darshan just went back to jail and all is well with my #outrage ridden Twitter world.  This man marries this girl - arranged through matrimonial columns/sites. She meets him several times and then agrees to marry him. Her parents are educated, liberal and rich. They get married. Soon, he asks for a BMW in a very playful tone. She shrugs it off even with warning bells ringing in her head. Soon, his brother tries to molest her. She asks for help and she only receives a 'what's wrong with it?' answer. 6 years into marriage, she is a sex slave for his brothers, his business partners and he, himself abuses her with inhuman sexual activity every night. They are so confident that she won't talk about it that (I found it surprising) she is not locked up or forbidden to talk to anyone. So she talks to people - her family, her sister, her mother. The answer and the belief is that this happens. This happens in every marriage. These are marital conflicts. 'Bedroom ki baatein' as her sister puts it.

How many of us get abused within our homes, our bedrooms? How many of us are willing to talk about it? I remember this friend of mine who I'd forgotten until this show. She got married at 22, all starry eyed. The age isn't the matter here. She got married to someone she knew and fell head over heels in love with him. 2 years later, she wrote to me saying he was going mad or that she was afraid he was going mad and that he abuses her. She was in the US. I asked her to talk to her sisters. She said she did, and they said it will be okay. She wrote to me again. I asked her to come back home on the pretext of a vacation and never go back and take concrete steps. I invited her to stay with me until she sorted things out. She didn't respond. I forgot all about her until I moved to the US and tried living all alone, going mad in an empty house. I contacted her again. This time around, she was happy. Pregnant, perfectly in peace with her world. I didn't know what to make of it. I left it...

Now, as I sit in one corner of my couch, shaking, unable to move in sheer disgust and maybe, even fear, that girl's face flashed in my head. How many of us make such compromises? I thought back to my life. I'm married and it was a very traditional arranged marriage. How did I trust AB like that? How many of us do this and are not leading lives similar to mine?

I thought to myself how lucky I was to have AB as my husband. I go into the bedroom and he smiles and hugs me. He waits to talk to me every night. The conversation you have with your partner lying next to each other. I tweet, he talks. I read about all the problems in the world, he talks to me about his  problems at work. I listen sometimes, I nod once in a while, all the time believing I got lucky with him.

He is not a special guy. He is a normal guy. A normal human being, doing what is expected of him. Why is it then that I'm considered so lucky? Even by my own admission, a lot of the times. Because he is doing the right thing? From when is doing the right thing to be applauded? He is not going above humanity to do something special, right?

Why are we always made to feel grateful for the 'good' things that happen to us? Even if it is our right?

Tonight, I'm on the couch. AB has to wait until I forget this episode like many others to talk about his annual review. I think he can and he should. 

30 days of September

Wake me up when September ends.

This is not something I want to be saying this month. Though I started the 30 day challenge last month - it wasn't a hit. I did run a lot more than I would have. I did work out a little more regularly, but it is not IN me, as yet #ifyouknowwhatImean.

I know better now how to handle this and plan for this and I'm not going to get disappointed over my failures in August.

1. Moving to hankies - worked great for me. I haven't had a cold since ;) But seriously, I moved to a lot of non-paper things - grocery bags are only cloth now. I walk back without grocery if I don't have a cloth bag on me. I've figured out an optimum time and cycle to use the washing machine. No switch in the house is on all the time, including those for plug points. I'm thrilled, yes.

2. Running and Gymming - This worked partly and didn't work partly. I fell sick in between, I went to my mum's house without preparation and didn't find shoes to run. As an aside, I also moved out 8 years ago and it shows in the fact that no clothes of mine that fit me are in my mum's house. Sigh.

3. Sweep and mop the house - SUCCESS. I did this religiously. There is something therapeutic about domestic chores. Also, the credit for this goes to my inlaws who were visiting :P

4. Learning to say no - On this, I guess I could always do better :) But I'm getting there. This was a success though I sometimes forgot to confirm yes or no! Or, go 'available' or 'busy' on GTalk.

I loved the idea of this 30 day challenge and now I'm doing it again for Sept with the following points of focus.

1. Read Infinite Jest everyday, however slow I read. Again, I'm doing this with Supreeth
2. Running and Gymming since it's not IN me as yet ;)
3. Pedicure at home everyday
4. Eat breakfast everyday, come what may
5. Update food blog every week, at least once

This looks like a long laundry list and mostly like a 'Things to do' list. But these are some things I am struggling with.

This starts from Sep 3 since I'm still on my August challenge. Also, hopefully, I will be more active on Twitter with #my30days update this time around.

What are your challenges?

Shammi Kapoor, RIP

We had only one cassette in our old car. The cassette had only Shammi Kapoor songs. I've listened to those songs from the time I was a year old until I was 17. My dad didn't listen to anything else and we didn't want to listen to anything else. The songs were danced to in the back seat by three girls while the same stories about the Kapoor family were narrated by Amma.

I don't usually write posts on movies or books or celebrities I admire or like. This is a special one. This isn't something I'm going to talk about, or something I expect anyone to read and comment on. This is for me.

This is about Shammi Kapoor. No, I didn't have a crush on him. I wanted to experience the same joy he shows in his cinema. I grew up listening to Bollywood songs. My uncles are the biggest fans of Bollywood and they raved about unknown songs, songs unheard or the not-so-popular songs. It was a matter of pride among us cousins if we could guess the song or the movie ( we had quizzes!) These are the fondest memories I have of many a summer spent in Pati's house eating fruit custard every half hour. And among these memories, Shammi stood out. When we sung his songs, all the competition during Antakshari vanished and everyone'd sing along. We'd sing beyond the first stanza and go on until we'd finished through the list of Shammi songs we knew as kids. One of my uncles disapproves of popular songs and likes only beautiful, but not so popular songs ( we call them ATCs or All Time Classics sarcastically). But with Shammi, he sang every song, including his popular songs. But then, which Shammi Kapoor wasn't popular?

Every song, every movie filled us with joy. In fact, that's the only word that comes to my mind.- joy. Be it the popular 'Tumse Accha Kaun Hai' with Shammi in a sack or the absolutely fantastic 'Aaj Kal tere Mere Pyaar' with Mumtaz. The enthusiasm, the crazy dance steps, the grin, the mischief - no one, not a single person before or after Shammi displayed that kind of attitude. 17 years of Shammi Kapoor and I didn't realize what a fan he had in me. Today, I woke up early thanks to my in laws staying with us and didn't get online as always. AB switched on the TV and casually said, "Oh, Shammi Kapoor is no more." I didn't realize that I had tears in my eyes.

To date, when I sit in the car, I like to start off with his songs. In the interest of keeping my marriage alive, I move on to other songs. Shammi did that to me. I'm a really bad writer when it comes to tributes, even during my journalism days, and today is no better. Shammi Kapoor, in many ways., I dance like you. I tried to be as bindass as you during college. I don't know if it's because of you, but I'd like to think so. Thank you.

The 30 day challenge!

I saw Supreeth's post on Twitter and figured I needed a challenge too. You should totally read his post to see what he's taken up as challenges. I have several things to take up including some of my resolutions this year that I haven't even started working on.

I love TED Talks and a lot of them have highly influenced my life. Matt Cutts' TED talk is one of them. However, as lazy as I am, it took a post by Supreeth to get me going.  Here are my list of challenges.

1. Like Supreeth, I'd like to move to hankies too.
I actually already did. I went and bought myself a packet (they sell 4 dainty ones - so pretty!) the other day from the 4th Block Jayanagar shopping complex. In the area I live (Whitefield), I'm guessing I will get designer ones or none! However, since I bought them I've been afflicted with the most horrible cold ever. Only, I forgot how bad my colds are. I'm known to have finished an entire tissue box in my Google days thanks to my cold.

So, obviously these dainty hankies are only meant for dainty aunties and not me! I need those large white handkerchiefs used by men. I should raid Appa's cupboard for those.

2. Running
I try to run everyday and so far, it's happening with breaks in between. I want to be able to run continuously for all the 30 days just to make it a habit.

3. Gymming
I go on and off. Now, all the 30 days.

4. Sweep and mop the house 2 days a week myself.
 I don't have a maid. I think maids in this area change exorbitantly and extremely rude. While I'm usually generous, their rudeness and 'taking me for granted' ness put me off. So, no maids. I live in an area where dust accumulates at home. I aim to sweep, mop and dust the house every 2-3 days for this month. That makes it twice a week and 8 times a month. I think it's perfectly do-able.

5. Learning to say no.
 I kept the most important challenge for the end. You know how people say that while they miss India a lot while living abroad, they'd any day live away from family and all that. That's not true of AB or me. Okay, maybe AB to a certain extent since he's anti social. I'm very social and I came back to India only because I missed India, the noisiness of family around us. Basically, I wanted to meet all my nieces and nephews, all my cousins when they fly in to meet their parents from different parts of the world. And what better place than India!

However, I under-estimated my need for space in India. It's very different when you are single and living with friends. It's almost as if you have permission to have fun and do what you want and skip family gatherings or functions. Life is not the same when you're married. AB and I haven't had a weekend to ourselves. I have myself to blame for that. I have way too many friends, way too many familial obligations and way too many social niceties to adhere to.  So, as a couple, we've decided to put our foot down. We will still be active socially (I will die if I don't see anyone but AB) but prioritize us over anything or anyone else. And do more fun stuff. Like use the badminton rackets bought 2 weeks ago for a start.

People who know me or have been following me on this blog know that the last 3 years were rocky for me. For us, sometimes. I went into hiding, literally, with my GTalk. I couldn't have thanked Google enough for creating the option of being 'invisible' on GTalk. I remained invisible for 3 full years choosing who I talk to, and when I talk to them. Some of you may find it stupid. In my defence, I was upset and didn't want to answer any questions, even the innocent, truly concerned ones. A lot of you I have actually chatted with are lucky ;)

So, big decision was that from yesterday, I decided to go visible. No more hiding. If I don't want to talk to you or can't talk to you, I'm going to tell you. As it is. I'm not going to not respond unless I'm not at the computer. And that is going to be the first step in saying no.

What are your challenges for the next 30 days? Tell me in your comments.

P.S. I may just use Twitter(@nandiniv) to update everyone on my progress. The hashtag will be #my30days. 

Our Padmini, Premier Padmini!

I saw this video on Facebook and immediately started laughing and crying at the same time. My dad had a Premier Padmini for most of his life. His first car. A second hand car :) My dad has always known to drive and has been a fantastic driver. Such a good driver that as kids we used to sit at the back and yell out of the window as we passed vehicle after vehicle without any worries. We made sure Amma never drove because she wasn't as good as Appa. So much that when AB drove me first, I measured him against Appa's driving. I may disagree all I want with Appa, but I will never fault his driving or direction sense. Because he was fast and good. We've had our share of accidents and Appa's mellowed down a lot since then. But this video brought back such fantastic memories that totally make me the person I am. In many ways, love and admire Appa more than ever before. I fought with Appa last week and it hurts a lot though we don't agree on anything. My idealism is a joke to him and his ways of life are that of a cynical previous generation who don't know the power of youth, according to me. So be it. But I can't but thank my dad for the wonderful memories I have of growing up as his daughter who had umpteen rides in his car, of a daughter who saw him take random risks.

I still remember the time we fit in 11 people - all my athais, my cousins on a Golu-seeing round. Golu is a 'doll exhibition' sorta thing South Indians do during Navaratri. Women are invited home to see the dolls and eat some sundal. Of course, women do other things during this time. Like torture young girls like me to sing. Or, gossip about the person whose house they've just been to. Or, compare the size and grandeur of the dolls or the 'exhibition' per se. Every occasion to meet in a Tamil household is an occasion for gossip. This one occasion, all my cousins had come home and we went around Bangalore to see different people's dolls. That trip was unforgettable. After every stop where we stuffed ourselves with food, it'd be a pain to fit into the car :) Appa was the lone man driving us from house to house. Such fun!

The other time I remember with the car was how we used to make random trips to Tirupati in the car. Those days, you didn't need hajaar tickets and hajaar agents to make one trip. It was the time when Appa'd come home, have dinner late at night and Pati'd randomly crib about how Godless we were and how we haven't visited Tirupati. Then, Appa'd snap his fingers and we'd be on our way to Tirupati. 2 AM, 3 AM - you name it. And we'd be there really fast because Appa drove super fast. Those hair pin bends are fondly and scarily remembered now. And every single time the car would stop at a hairpin bend and we'd have to get down and push. Pushing the car was a matter of shame but at the same we wouldn't let go of our car. And why would we? Who else had a purple coloured car? :D

My sister thought the car was named after her. And the colour of the car was after black-currant ice cream- our favourite ice cream flavour that time. I don't know if Appa did it purposely or if it was a mistake or if my black-currant ice cream loving sisters demanded this, but it was a purple coloured car. When I grew up to be a teen, I cringed. I'd sit in the back seat and go down. I didn't want anyone to see me. Because every time it started, it made noise. It had to be 'primed.' And there was a carpet of yellow flowers on top of the car. We never bothered to clean it much. The car wasn't always purple. It was a boring white when Appa bought it. If I remember right, I think he bought the car after one of us was born. We decided to turn it into a funky colour sometime midway when it went for one of its umpteen repair jobs and it has never been the same since then!

Then of course, there was that St. Mark's restaurant trip that is etched in our memories. I was 15. Appa's business contacts or something related to business - somehow got us coupons to eat at St. Mark's. However rich or poor we were, we weren't #posh like that. So, off we went to eat at St. Mark's. All dressed up, looking absolutely hep. 3 girls and parents in one ugly car. The car, as old as it was, made weird noises. no AC, so windows were perpetually open. One of the windows didn't work and everything was manual. And there was the carpet of flowers on top of the car. Every time it was started, it made noise. And my dad drove with such flamboyance that we'd have to stop with a bang. I was 15 and very status conscious and hated my parents and their life. Yes. I cringed and sat low in the seat and wanted to get off at the gate (after which there is a long drive - something like the red carpet) to reach the entrance. But Appa had none of it. He was mad I wasn't proud of us. Anyway, we drove through the entrance and stopped at the entrance with a bang and I got out quickly and distanced myself this totally excited family and started up the stairs while a valet ran down to pick up the keys from Appa. I watched in horror as he tried to start the car and at all the flowers that had fallen on the clean driveway after we'd stopped the car with tremendous noise. He somehow managed to start and steer the car to the parking lot while we walked in grandly. While the experience at the hotel itself was hilarious with my parents and sisters cracking jokes at everything while I kept acting cool, I decided to walk to the gate to wait for the car than wait for the purple monstrosity to pick me up from the entrance. Tons of cute guys around, you know!

Now, as AB and I are trying to lead a 'slow' life with the jobs we aim to have, with the life we want to lead, with the children we want to raise, I wish I had that car. I wish I had a car that didn't look the 100 other ones on the street, a car that stopped and made so much noise that people turned to look at it, a car which accommodated 11 people and more, a car in which 3 kids grew up, puked and spill and do everything one doesn't do with a car, a car we pushed everywhere, a car which has seen us eat umpteen Akki Rotis at VV Puram, a car from which we listened to old Shammi hits, a car we were so ashamed of and yet so proud of. A car that allowed us to be different.

We sold the car sometime back. Maybe gave it away, even (not out of any generosity, but no one'd buy it!) We got ourselves a Wagon R and Appa struggled with it because there was no need to put any effort into driving with Wagon R. There was no aggressive pulling of the gear. There was no need to manually pull at the handle to bring up the window glass, a dire need to be careful because it was new and expensive. In many ways, I realise as I write this post, I'm like that. I moved from the US for many reasons. One of them, I think was because it was too convenient and there was no challenge. Not that I love the traffic here or the fact that I need to wash my own dishes here ;), but like Appa'd say, it's the challenge of it all that pushes me on. You may not get it. I didn't either for a long, long time.

Yes, I'm in India. At home. And I don't think I want to be anywhere else in the world.

Feminism eh?

Every single time I hear someone snigger or hear someone talk sarcastically about me being a feminist, or when I hear women say they are not feminists, I wonder why. Earlier, as a teenager, as an adult with mostly teen tendencies when it came to feminism, I was rabid. I thought men were the reason for every disaster in the world. It still holds true in my darkest moments.

Recently, someone tweeted about an airline passenger refusing to fly in an airplane piloted by a woman. I didn't react. I no longer do. These things are 'chindi,' for me nowadays. The earlier Nandini would have written letters to the Editor, written an emotional post, vented on Facebook, said 'Fuck you' to every man in her line of vision and vented it all on her husband. Now, Nandini has become like everyone else. Reads news, cribs and moves on. Until a couple of days later, a girl who still seems to have faith in me pinged me the link. I didn't respond for 2 mins. I didn't even have to read the news ( didn't read it from the tweet, either) I just knew it. A man refuses to acknowledge a woman. Simple. The reason for feminism. The girl who pinged me? She's a feminist and isn't ashamed to admit it, thankfully. I owed her a response. Unlike everyone else who in the name of feminism either burn bras or act like they are not feminists just so they are not made fun of, by the boys. As I typed out my response on chat to her, I wondered what made me this blase. What made me this apathetic to the cause I lived for, a couple of years ago? Personal situation? No. I didn't have an answer. Just sheer shame, I confess. Again, just like every Indian who treats a bomb blast casually unlike the Americans for whom lives changed after 9/11, I forgot about the article. Until I read this. I cried.

I read 'Aruna's story' by Pinki Virani when I was 19 years old. Those were the days I read India Today avidly and saw a book review on Bitter Chocolate. That book was by Pinki again, but on incest. #Samedifference no? Both issues don't exist and if they do, it's because of the girl. As a feminist out to prove a point and as a Women's Studies student, that book had to be read. I doubted everyone after reading that book, all the men - family and friends. I cried for all those kids. I wondered what I would do if it happened to me. I also saw on the back cover that Pinki Virani wrote 'Aruna's story.' I didn't find that book in the book store, so it was forgotten. Then, I finally found it for Rs 50. I bought it from a roadside bookseller. The cover was red and black. Symbolic, I thought.

Those days, I read the book I bought immediately. I started one evening and couldn't control my tears by the time I finished the first chapter. I stopped. I had classes. I had other stuff to do. I was the practical know-it-all. I came back to it when we discussed Rape in class. I wasn't in class. I was busy doing theater because education through academics wasn't important for me. Reinforced more and more when I read books. It didn't matter. Academic discussion of what rape was and whether it was because of social conditioning we accept it or whether a man's power is assumed in the power equation. Who cared? Aruna had been raped. Brutally. And the man was free.

I went back to the book to figure out if I could use it for an assignment. After missing my classes, I wanted my assignment to be really good and based on current events so I score extra points. Yes, current events. Aruna was raped in 1973 by a ward boy who couldn't take it that a woman caught him stealing and pointed out that it was wrong. I finished the book that night. I cried at every page. I couldn't believe that it was possible. Not in a democracy like my India? Not in a country where there are people like me fighting? Surely no, right? To date, I see the book and tears well up. I haven't been moved anything like the way Aruna's story has moved me. I've not had sleepless nights over anything else but thinking what Aruna must be doing. Pinki Virani, in the book talks of Aruna being alive. This was in 2001. The book was written in 1998. I hoped and assumed she'd be dead by now. She was a painful reminder in many ways of what I was, who I was. Painful in more ways than one.

After reading that book, I've constantly imagined situations where I'm in danger of being raped and prepared myself for it. I told myself I'd not let anyone do that with me, I'd fight back. I fought back when that guy ruffled my hair on a bus in the middle of the night. I fought back when the other guy pinched this woman's butt in front of me. I fight back every time someone laughs at me for being a feminist. Like Aruna. She is 64 years old today and still fighting. The Supreme Court is trying to decide euthanasia laws in India. She wants to die. Obviously. We haven't done much for her, have we?

The rapist was free after 6 years of being in jail. He was jailed long after the rape, of course. And not for rape. But, for attempted murder. Why? Oh, if you are a woman over 18, YOU have to prove that the bastard raped you. And if there is no penetration, it is not rape. So, it's okay if a guy pinches you, if he gropes you, if he treats you like an animal or if he leers at you or if he spits at you and drives away, if he rips your clothes apart, if he insults you. It's okay. You are a person with a fuckable vagina. With breasts. They are meant to be used. Get over it. This is the message our laws give us, our mothers prepare us all our lives for, our grandmothers cry for this reason when we are born and the reason we are killed when we are born.

Walmik probably got married to a pretty and innocent woman. He probably has grown up kids now. He probably led a life. He must have taken his wife out to the movies. Seen umpteen 'mujhe bachao scenes' and not felt anything. Why would he? He only tried to kill a female superior who showed attitude. In his defense, she didn't die. She still lives. Rather exists on a hospital bed. Screaming in terror every time she heard a male voice- from outside her window or on the radio. Eating through tubes. She was declared blind and was brain dead because the bastard used a dog chain to choke her and it cut off oxygen supply to her brain.

I've lost all the control I seemed to have mastered with my views on men a couple of paragraphs back. And I've lost all sense of balance that a well-written post is supposed to have. She does that to me. That Aruna has haunted me. I thought she was gone. But, no. She doesn't haunt the guy who raped her. She doesn't haunt the Indian justice system. She haunts women like me. Because I cannot do anything for her. Fuck, I cannot do anything for myself.

My whole week is ruined now. Good I'm absent minded. Good I'm a bloody Indian. Good I'm socially conditioned to adjust. Good I'm an Indian woman. I will forgive, forget and crib only the next time Aruna is in the news again. Hopefully, in the obituary pages. Then she can really haunt me and only for a short while. Because she belongs to the women we've forgotten.

Resolutions!

I love making resolutions. Until last year, I used to forget about them through the year. However, in 2010, I'm took them seriously. Probably, the biggest crisis in my life helped me think of having goals to work towards. (Yay, Happiness Project, I can think like you!) However, every other person I talk to about resolutions pooh-poohs them. "Ha! I don't keep resolutions. Who does?", "I'm not someone who believes in resolutions." "I take things as they come and do them as they come. I can't be restricted with resolutions." Of course, we are rather different, so bear with me. I love keeping resolutions. I'm rather result-oriented and too big a list-lover not to keep resolutions. And yes, I do want to do a lot of things and it helps put my desires, dreams and ambitions in perspective. So, if you're not 'into resolutions,' good for you.

Here are mine from 2010. I'm going to do a review of all that I've achieved in 2010 and will have a list for 2011 too.

2010's resolutions:

1. Eat more consciously - I did try to eat consciously. While I couldn't eat locally and seasonally owing to my grad student status, I tried eating healthily. In fact, this year has 'consciously' been a mix of both 'extremely healthy' and 'extremely unhealthy.'

2. Grow plants - Ha! No.

3. Exercise 5 days a week - Best of 'em all. I did do this for about 2 months this year and loved it. This year, I spent the beginning of the year in India and then came back, packed things to move to Syracuse, went back to India for visa issues, came back, moved to Syracuse and then started gymming and then it snowed. And life stopped. I'm hoping 2011 is going to see the complete achievement of this resolution

4. Join the local library and read at least 2 books per month- Nada!

5. Swimming - Who swims in India on a vacation? Who swims on a flight? Who swims when it is

-10C? Who swims when you have HTML and accounting to study? Who swims when there is food nearby all the time?

6. Maintain a diary/journal - No. And I don't want to, either. Blah.

7. Revamp food blog and be regular on it - Sigh. Pushed to 2011

8. Cake decorating classes - Figured this won't go with my constant resolution to lose weight.

9. Learn HTML - YES. YES. And learned it and swallowed it and got an 'A.' :D

10. Volunteer - No :|

11. Photography - No

12. Get completely healthy by the end of 2010 - Certainly tried and worked for a little while too. Got a long way to go.

13. Berkeley's creative writing program- Priorities and dreams have changed, so shelved.

14. Make a conscious effort to watch sports - No reason to do so this year :P

15. Get license done - Done and expired :P

16. Learn a new language - Does 'networking' count? No? No, then.

17. Learn Tamil - Umm, ya. No.

18. If no admit, rewrite GRE - *imagine me fist-pumping and yelling* I got all the admits :D with aid, mostly. And I'm doing rather well ( Yes, I'm immodest. Thanks for noticing), so YES!

Resolutions for 2011 :D

1. Gym everyday - I did try gymming everyday in 2010 and it worked partly and I enjoyed it a lot. I want to continue that in 2011 and be better at it. The only issue is about wearing 20 layers, going to the gym, removing 18 layers and running and putting 20 layers on again and going back home. But it shall be done.

2. Run - I love running, I realized. I love running with the wind in my hair. I ran a lot this year and I was happy when I ran. I'm going to restart running, if not outside, at least on the treadmill to keep me going until summer returns.

3. Don't eat out unless it is team event or something - This was my resolution as a grad student in order to save money and not fall in the piling on pounds category. However, I failed thanks to academic stress and ate out and ate bad food owing to finances sometimes in 2010. I aim to correct that. I was very good during the Summer semester, I'm planning to redo this, this year, at least when I'm in the US.

4. No sugar or processed foods. No white rice - Again, this was my motto in summer and it worked beautifully. I cooked food everyday and ate good, healthy food. I lost it during the end of the Fall semester. I want to get back onto the wagon. So, no sugar at home or outside.

5. Cook everyday - Goes with 3 and 4, I guess

6. Lose weight - yes, this is on everyone's list. And on mine too. And I want to be able to remove this after this year. Let's see. I'm part of a Facebook group with friends to be more accountable. So, here we go again!

7. Meditation - While this is not going to be religious per se, I want to sit down, be calm and close my eyes and not think of ANYTHING for a couple of minutes everyday. I was talking to my favorite professor and he said to me that I wasn't quiet in my head. And how true, that statement is. Plus AB noticing my forever panic-stricken face on Skype wants me to try this out. So, I'm going to try hard to not think of anything and be quiet for a couple of mins everyday. Yes, you may laugh, but I will have the last laugh at the end of 2011 :)

8. God - My relationship with God is very strange. I've never been religious. I thought my family was religious, but after meeting AB's family, I take that statement back. Considering I'm going back to India, I'm not going to escape from religion and God. At this point in time, I'm looking at God and prayer to bring some discipline back in life. It is still not about any one God or asking for favours. I want to try this out and not be brash about my relationship with God. I want to be more disciplined and think things through and I think this little exercise of praying everyday should help. What I pray for is anyone's guess.

9. Food blog- I realize I love the food blog more than I thought I did. I've come to love cooking and baking and cooking with AB more than anything else today. So, 2011 is going to see the food blog being resurrected and hopefully, it shall be all healthy and will make a difference to our lives.

10. Read at least one book every 2 weeks - This may not be possible in the next 6 months since I'm in the US and the chances of me buying a book and reading it is zilch. However, this is a long term goal for me. I was an avid reader and now that seems to have vanished. Not even blogs anymore, sadly. I want to get back to reading. Blogs, magazines, books. I want to have this library full of books. I'm going to get back with a vengeance.

11. Driving in India - The aim is to get back ASAP. I give myself 2 months time (after I return in July/August) to go driving to meet my in-laws in Chennai in the car.

12. Have a balcony garden - Not giving up on this one. I want to be able to grow some herbs, some veggies for my everyday meals.

13. Medical check-up- I turn 28 this year. I'm no fool to think I'm going to be able to hop, skip and jump every minute going forward. I promise to be more careful about my health and go for an annual medical checkup- pap smear and breast examinations included from 2011 onwards. I also want to make sure I tag my mother-in-law and mom along. We all need to and I believe in it strongly.

14. Use public transport as much as possible - AB already uses only public transport in Bangalore. I want to be able to do that as well. That said, he doesn't have a car yet, so he is using public transport. I want to see if we can use public transport in spite of having a car. Bangalore Metro, work for me!

15. Get my address changed on my passport - We know what a task this is in India. This is my first test to keep my cool and accept India for what it is and not bribe and still get the job done. I've done this in the past and I love my country way too much to give up on something like this. And hey, I love challenges like this :D In fact, am looking forward to exchanging some words with the Passport Office.

16. Make some progress towards getting back to Theater- I don't know how and when. I want to start watching and start working in Theater. Ideally, working in English Theater, but I will take what comes my way for now.

17. Janaagraha/Lok Satta - My dream job is to be a politician. I'm going to try to be more active locally. I've worked for Janaagraha in the past as a random volunteer. I want to do this more seriously this time and possibly even consider Lok Satta ( not sure about this, yet)

18. Swimming and scuba diving - My cousin is a certified scuba diver. His pictures make me want to try scuba diving. I'm hoping it will happen this year.

19. Travel at least once a month to Chennai and once in 2 months to elsewhere - I want to travel within India. A long term dream is to have a culinary journey across the country. But for now, I have 2 aims. One, visit my in-laws every month. I'm moving back to India to be with family and I want to be there for my in laws. Two, travel to other places that are not Chennai ;) at least once in 2 months - with or without AB

20. Try to attend most functions in both the houses - I know this is very 'maami' like. But the truth is I've seen my parents do this. They've tried to be there for everyone. And the warmth I've experienced being my parents' daughter is wonderful. I want to do that for my kid(s) and plus, I want to be there among my people. I also don't know AB's family that well and I aim to rectify starting this year.

21. Save at least Rs 5000 per month personally - I don't know what job I will have and don't know what salary I will get. But at this point in time, I want to save at least this amount every month as a nest egg. For future travels or for when AB decides to beat me up and then I can leave him with this money no? :D

22. Learn to wear a sari and 'madisaar.' - Sadly, I don't know how to tie a sari well. I can just about drape it around me to be decent :P Madisaar is another story. I don't know where it begins and where it ends. I want to learn to tie both these types of saris confidently.

23. Take up yoga seriously - I've done Yoga in the past and have loved it. For all my roly-polyness, I'm extremely flexible. I want to give it a try again.

24. In India, I want to eat out, but I want to limit it to eating out once in a month, initially and then maybe, once in 2 months.

25. Watch good cinema - I no longer watch cinema, let alone good cinema. I'm hoping I can catch up this year.

26. Panic and worry less - Yes. I need this more than anything else. From being a totally reckless person, I've become a control freak and I hate that.

27. Have a girls' weekend out at least once every 6 months- This is a joint resolution with my girl friends :) You know who you are. We should make this happen.

28. Do less social networking. Maximum 3 hours a day- unless my job demands it ;)

29. Have a grand Golu - I'm turning out to be such a 'maami.' But I love Golu and the idea of keeping Golu. I want AB and me to have a grand golu with the sundal-sharing. But I promise not to pressurize young girls to sing :|

30. Send home-made goodies for Diwali to a couple of friends.

31. Keep a budget and accounts for every month.

32. Drink at least 10 glasses of water a day - I hardly drink water. And this is an attempt to drink more water

That is a list! :D These things are very do-able and are hardly lofty goals. Some of these ideas are already in motion and hopefully, I will report at the end of 2011 with more success than I had in 2010.

MBA = Maha Bullshitting Associates

I'm sorry if any of you are MBAs or MBA grads. A large portion of my family (the family that I love a lot) are MBAs, all the managers I worked under back when I had a job and who I loved are all MBAs. But, but no one seems to get on my nerves more than an MBA aspirant nowadays.

I'm taking some courses which I share with the MBA students. And that is the worst thing ever. One, they are smug as a pug in class. I'm blessed with the unique talent of reading people's faces and assessing them when they speak. Yes, I judge. Handle it. So these kids are smug, arrogant to the hilt, all-knowing and if it's an Indian MBA student, add painful to the list of the rather impressive adjectives.

1. In class, the moment the Professor pauses, the MBA students *have* to talk. I sorta understand this because I like to talk in class. I can't sleep without making a point in class. One of the reasons why I can't go without reading to class because I get bored. But, but, when I talk, there is a point to be made. I don't say random bullshit. I've noticed that MBAs can bullshit their way through and in this category - no one beats an Indian MBA student who like to do the same more so because there are other Indian students who are not MBA students in class a.k.a me. *snigger* There is this girl in class who sits right opposite me who I feel like slapping in every class. Her statements always begin with an urgency. "Professor X, do you think this works that way?" *quick look at our side- the non MBA side - snigger, and snigger at me specifically* and turn back to listen to him and nod aggressively. Eff you, dear girl. I think your English is so bad that this Professor may not understand your answers and lower your grade, while I can bullshit rather well in English in exams. That is how I sit opposite you watching you make eyes at me.

2. In seminars - you know, the active types? Always doing stuff, running up and down the auditorium? In Chennai, they are called enthu-cutlets or pataanis. I was that. Though, of course, I never sucked up. I loved, loved participating and doing stuff in school and college but never behaved like I needed better grades. Because I got them anyway. Thank you.

So, we had this seminar (the most boring ever with a girl next to me eating pasta with stinky cheese- the smell was like puke. Ugh!) before which we had an equally boring Q&A session with the speaker. Yours truly was one of the few to be selected for this Q&A. Nothing to be proud of, in this case, unfortunately. This Indian girl, with this huge grey sweater and large hoops (prompting my classmate to say she looked like a whore - I don't know the cultural context, tbh) who I've been with in other seminars sat close to the speaker. Offered him water 5 times in the half hour Q&A session. Okay, make that 2 times. Smiled at him. Had the most stupid questions EVER. And really, I think every question is unique usually but this was just something else. Then, we went to the seminar in the auditorium where this girl ran around with the mike when one didn't need one. Again, rather stupid questions were asked, but well, I'm used to it now. She kept running around giving the speaker water, with the mike to all the participants. Really? Why this posturing? Because you are brown? Or, have you always been like this?

3. Same Q&A. This Guy was rather presumptuous and arrogant with his questions and interactions with the speaker and gave a 100 page resume instead of just introducing himself in the initial introduction rounds. So, after this session, there were cookies and water offered. Now, as a self respecting Indian student and a dessert lover and as a person who'd slogged the last 15 hours on assignments and readings, I went to pick up a cookie. My Canadian classmate and my American classmate walked with me. Just as we were taking a cookie, I mentioned how hungry I was to which my Canadian classmate said in jest that we shouldn't be too greedy because we were guests there ( this is not our School/Dept, thankfully). Before I responded with a wisecrack, the Guy who was behind us to pick up his cookie said: "So you've come for free food eh?" I turned and smiled politely and said, "it was a joke." He looks at me and continues in the same presumptuous tone for which I could have kicked him in the wrong place,

Guy: "Oh well, we have to be careful nowadays."

Me (least interested): *polite smile*

(Canadian classmate wants to run. I don't blame him.)

Guy: "So yesterday, we had this seminar and there was food available. We suddenly found that there were a couple of homeless people there who'd come just for the free food! *looks at me* Here we were, trying to make an impression on a possible recruiter and these badly dressed people stood there waiting for the food. I hated it man. I was so mad."

Me: "Well, we are from 'Y' School. We were invited for this session, you know" *sarcastic smile*

Guy: "Of course, I mean. Look at you, dressed up. I didn't mean you. I was just talking generally."

Yes dodo, for a person without a roof over his head, that homeless guy'd certainly want to wear a 3 piece suit to get free food and look desperate in front of a recruiter. And of course, you were talking generally when I went to pick up that cookie. May you not get the job of your dreams. May you get back to the Animal Husbandry Dept that you worked in before you got into B-School. I think pigs suit you.

To all of you reading this, of course, I took one each of ALL the different types of cookies in front of him. When he thinks I look homeless and have come for free food anyway, might as well do it.

4. Review sessions are supposed to help pass exams at hand. It is not a session for you to deliberate on your dream company's profit and loss statements or whatever jargon you use to call them. You're not reviewing how this recession happened for the exam. You're trying to get out of it. So, stop asking questions like:

"So, if this company is bankrupt, what happens to the income statement?"

Apart from the fact that there is no income, so no income statement, that is NOT IN THE SYLLABUS, dumbass! And this is Accounting 101 which I'm already failing. I don't need dickheads like you to make it worse. Okay?

5. Stop looking at me when I talk in class wondering how I can even contribute to the conversation about branding. I read the newspapers while you learn it all from this one class. So,

me : #win, you: #fail

6. Indian MBA students who are aspiring to get jobs, stop putting on this much make up for the interviews. The interviewer maybe too scared to hire you. And the make-up you use? It's for people with either white skin or really dark skin. It's not for people like you who are trying-to-be-white-skinned.

7. Also, ya, networking is good. But you don't have to prey. Leave that to the vultures.

For people who are MBA grads who disagree, please feel free to do that. I'm all for self-expression and freedom of speech, as you can very well see. Just don't expect me to agree with you just because you think you're smart.

And if you are my classmate and you read this post and think it's about you, yes, please get the message. I don't do jargon to sugarcoat this, and so, you can't take it if I tell you as it is.

Of course, you don't want that to happen face to face considering you are forever trying hard to impress your American classmates no?