Tuesday, September 28, 2010

I just can’t sleep…

It’s been some time now. I can’t help hitting the nap button for a few minutes in the afternoon. And then, for hours through the night, until it’s almost morning, I just can’t sleep. And honestly, I can’t complain, for I love the night. When the lights are out and the world is quiet, everybody is sound asleep…..err, yes, in this part of the world, people do really sleep at night. You’ll find lights out at like ten in the night. Not a single window alive, except mine of course.

The only problem is, I have to wake up in the morning and make breakfast for the husband. It’s not like I can sleep as long as I wish to. But I sure wish I could, because I so really love the time of the night. I love the silence of the streets, the jingle of insects, the moon…oh, the moon. When the moon shines bright, nothing looks more beautiful. I so wish I could just wander off into the night. Away from people, away from the world, away from civilization, away, far away from everyone. Just on my own. Just grab a moment of tranquility. Or probably just scream out loud. I wish I could be left alone just once, to be just myself, and not have to behave in a certain manner, or have to be a lady, or to be somebody’s wife, somebody’s daughter, to be responsible for somebody’s social standing. Just be me.

Ah…..I’m probably dreaming. I so gotta shut up.

Anyway, have you ever noticed how, unlike popular belief, nights are such amazingly positive times. Have you ever noticed that at night, everything seems possible? How, in the silence and dark, all your plans, your thoughts, your ambitions seem achievable. Strange how it happens but it does. Last night, when I couldn’t sleep, a deep longing to get back in touch with all my old friends creeped into my head. All friends from school, from aol, all friends I haven’t seen in or spoken to in years. I went in to another trip down memory lane and strolled there a long time recollecting all my friends. Honestly, I never had many in school, but quite a few good ones in aol. I got out of bed and immediately got on to Google. I did find a few of them, and thought I’d send out messages to them first thing in the morning. And with that thought, I fell asleep happily.

And now, here I am, writing this blog that I presume no one’s gonna care about. As the sun shone, I chickened. I can’t contact them. They all got out of school, college, and got great jobs. People in aol have moved on to better positions. And I…….. I’ve been married.

Married and stayed at home, studying masters in English literature, and cooking good food and doing good laundry. I tell myself it’s a good life. I tell myself I’m no wimp or loser, and that someday I’m going to be a great writer and a successful professional. I’m gonna finish my masters and do a PhD. I’m gonna study psychology after that, write a lot of books, teach at a top notch university…….and on and on. But being married at an early age of 21, and moving to a sort of ‘not happening’ place that this is, life seems to have taken a full stop. I know it hasn’t. I know I’m gonna make good out of it sure enough soon. But as of now, it just doesn’t feel good enough. I wish there was more to this life.

And with that, long before I sign in to my Gmail, I give up. I don’t send out any messages, I don’t talk to any old friends, afraid of what I’ll answer when they ask me “so girl, what u doing now?” Don’t even ask me how I dread that question.

And yet, every night, I think, it’s a great life. I’m studying what I wanted to study, for the joy of it. I have plenty of time to pursue any interest, any dream. And I have a husband with a big enough paycheck to take care of it all. But soon as morning comes along, I wake up to the stagnating feeling of a bored housewife with nowhere to go and nothing to do, one who has no friends, no one to talk to or laugh with, except a husband, who may be a wonderful person way deep down inside, may pretend to, or even try to care for me. But really, doesn’t understand me…at all. All I have is a home that needs cleaning and a kitchen that needs cooking.

And with that, I move on into a new, not so exciting day, hoping to be in better spirits as the moon rises.

Day makes me ‘just live’. Night lets me dream on. Night makes me optimistic. Day makes me more realistic. What about you….

Tuesday, September 21, 2010


It’s a strange thing this fear. Makes you do things you’re otherwise too smart for. Kinda makes u superstitious at times. You know what it does to me…

Well, as a child, we heard that when we really really want something, we keep our fingers crossed for it. I did that enough back then. But as I grew up, I sorta got over it. I don’t do it anymore, except for one occasion. That’s when someone from my family is travelling, especially by train. I still keep my fingers crossed until I get a phone call from them saying that they have safely reached.

Funny you’ll think. Well, true. I know it doesn’t make a difference, I know nothing’s gonna happen, and I convince myself hard enough that I won’t do it next time. But I just can’t help it. It just happens. For in that moment when someone I love is on the rails…my fingers just seem to have a mind of their own.

The amazing thing is that me and my family have always travelled by train for a long long time. It’s only recently that we could start taking off in a plane. And from Bangalore to Delhi by train is a total three days. And believe me, for all three days, I would eat, pray and sleep with my fingers crossed.

Wonder what makes me do this. When in all my senses, I know it’s nothing but a superstition. Maybe, just maybe I’ll get over it someday.
So, what makes you superstitious…….

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

A Humpty Dumpty game ;)

It started with a loud thud! A crashing touchdown and a bruised knee. Which, by the way, still hurts. Im talking about my first badminton game in say nine years. It was painful, embarassing, but a hell of a lot of fun. I hadnt played the game since say, 8th standard. Back then, it used to be those amazing evenings with papa, playing in the park, until mom tired her vocal cords out calling us for dinner, or until it became virtually impossible for us to see the shuttle in the dark. Or sometimes when…..Oh wait, hey, I shouldn’t be getting into flashback right now, I was here to talk about the game last morning.

Ahem, okay… Well, for a long time I had been wanting to start playing again. Perhaps because I had ample time to spare, or rather because I really needed a fun way to effectively workout, for the good old conventional strategies like morning walk or jogging werent working for me (I just could not wake up;) But most importantly, it was because I loved the game so much, it had so many happy memories of it, and I wanted to feel like that little girl by the side of papa, all over again.

Of course, it wasn’t papa this time, it was my better half, hubby dear by my side. Oh wait, no. Not by my side, opposite me. For a long time, we had been anticipating to buy the rackets in the first place. And when they finally arrived, hung on he wall for so long, never could be put to proper use, for the same reason…I just could not wake up! And evenings are no time to play, the court is too crowded, and im too occupied too. So finally, at last, after weeks of punching down the alarm and going back to sleep… the blessed morning came. I woke up in time…at last. So we headed to the sports club in the campus.

It was my first visit there, and a mighty good place it is I’d say, considering this town. Has courts for all sorts of sport, and damn clean too. So we stepped in the badminton court and I served first. It was a fine serve. My opponent (wait, I like calling my husband that ;) flipped the shuttle back and as I tried attempting my first strike, fell face front, and hurt my knee. Oops… awkward moment. I do not know what happened. You know, the amazing thing about taking a fall is, the first thing you care about, isnt where you got hurt. Its, ‘oh my gosh, who saw that.’ And well, quite a few people saw me. So alright, easy, breath. Say to yourself, its okay, nothing happened, im good, and get on with the game. And so I did. We went on to play a fairly decent game. He too hadnt played in a long time so we were on equal progress report. We decided to play for fun and not scoreboard it. We played for an hour and yes, it was an exhilerating one hour. We had so much fun, I dint wanna come back. But he said I better not overdo my muscles on the first day, and we came back.

So I had finally broken the curse of the sleep monster and woke up early. But would I be able to keep up. Would I wake up the next day. Well yes, that next day was today, and I did wake up. Yeah baby….i was all set for a new game…yeppie. Although my knee advised me otherwise, I knew that by abiding, I would only spoil it more. So I gathered myself together, pulled up my socks and grabbed my armour…ahem, my racket, and headed for a new game. Now im pretty sure I can keep up this groove. Cuz im loving it. Albeit it’s a new beginning and right now every muscle in my right arm hurts like hell, because of a fresh exertion, and the knee to add to it. But I know, getting them accustomed to this, is the only way out of this.

And the whole feeling of being in the court, of smashing the shuttle, of missing a shot, of heading right into the net or answering that seemingly impossible attack, by fluke, it all feels amazing. Yeah so what if I had a Humpty Dumpty moment, at least it took me back to the days of loving Humpty Dumpty. The days of murmuring twilights in the old home, of playing in the park by papa’s side, learning his shots, ignoring mom’s calls for dinner or homework. Of shuttles getting stuck up in trees and us jumping up and down with our rackets to bring it down. Feeling on top of the world if i got one shot better than dad, scuffling with my brother to get turns with dad, simply being daddy’s little girl. Oh how I miss those days. And though playing now is such an awesome feeling, it does make me miss being with dad, in that old home, bangalore right now.
Miss u papa…

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

My midnight rain fiesta

Soaking up in the rain isn’t unfamiliar to me. I seldom let go of any of it. I’ve always been advised against it for the fear of catching a cold. I’ve always snubbed the advice, and have almost always ended up catching the darn cold. But that has done precious little to deter me from doin it again. Learn from your mistakes? Well, that’s wut I’m doin eh, still learning ;) Hey, I like to take my time.

Besides, this is one mistake I’m reluctant to learn from. It’s just something I so totally love to do. And yepp…I did it again! And this time, with most of the caution knobs turned up. Firstly, it was in the dead of the night. Secondly, I was stark out of a sound sleep. And most significantly, I already had a cold coming on!!
But like any of that was going to stop me. In fact, did I even have the mind to think over. It was virtually a dream. I was awakened abruptly by the sound of heavy rustling and a mighty downpour. Not even a fire in the building would’ve roused me as hastily as this exultant sound of the rain did. I walked to the balcony and Oh My..! It was by far the most pleasing feast for summer sore eyes, a savory smell of the earth, the chime of the raindrops hitting the leaves and the impeccably shiny little droplets shimmering under the streetlamps. For a moment I stood there, feeling detached from the world. I was awakened in the middle of the night, without a purpose, just to come out and witness the midnight showers. There were strong winds changing direction every minute and the rain swept across the surfaces. And when the wind blew straight into my face, the raindrops, lit by a streetlamp very close to my balcony, seemed to shower exclusively for me. It was like a million starlets confetti being shot in my honor. Being back in Ambala and having left Bangalore far behind, being able to relish a good rain certainly isn't a frequent bounty. It was a much awaited escape from the blistering heat and humidity of July. and I wasnt gonna let it go.

The vast expanse of the university campus I live in seemed to be snug and deep asleep. Let alone the faculty wing, even the students’ residence seemed quiet and cozy. Well yes, this isn’t quite exam season. No one’s expected to study late. Besides I dint even know how late it was. I couldn’t care less about time right now. I was just too happy being awake, refreshed and of course, wet. And I knew that here right now, I was the only one awake to savor this moment. In fact, I believe I was the only one who wanted to. I don’t remember ever meeting anyone who said he she did not love the rain. But yet, of the numerous times that I have been to the terrace to soak myself or cheerily taken a walk in the park while it poured, I have never had company. I have scarcely seen anyone enjoying a decent rain purposelessly. Hmmm…makes me wonder, am I out of my mind, or are these people oblivious to the divinity of this wet and messy affair.

I’ve done this plenty of times. Call me stupid, but I wouldn’t miss a chance to soak up. I remember one evening, coupl’a years ago when I was out for a walk with my friend Anita. She was then a med student, who loved to admire rain from a windowsill. That evening, she was on her way to an experience she was going to cherish. It suddenly began to rain and we weren’t close to home. She decided we take shelter nearby and I abided…for the moment. But after a few minutes of cajoling, she decided to give it a shot, and we set off walking again…this time, in the rain. For a full two hours until it was dark and really time to go home, we walked, sang and danced, in the rain. People looked at us perplexed. Half of them thought we had lost our minds. And others wished they could do so too. But the two of us, we didn’t care a dime. It was one of our most memorable evenings.

There have been many other times I’ve smiled back at the rain gods smiling down upon me, Last night being freshest in my memory. Of course, as anticipated, I now have a worsened cold and a really painful sore throat. I’m glad I can write this blog becuz I can barely talk today. But hey…what a night eh. If a perfectly timed sneeze hadn’t jogged me back to my senses, and reminded me that I was already vulnerable, I would have brewed a steaming cup of coffee and let the rain soak me completely. But that’s okay, albeit scanty, its monsoon season. Maybe my coffee will wait a little…until my next midnight rain fiesta I guess.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Athiest! Who, me...?

You are fatigued with your mom watching the lousy saas bahu spectacle on tv, and just when its ur turn to master the remote, Bam...! Powercut !
You're in a queue, waiting to withdraw money from the ATM, and when its finally your turn to push the card through, the machine's empty!
Its like some kind of jinx. There isnt one day when at some point or the other, we dont end up saying...Why only now ! Somehow it always looks like time is into an earnest conspiracy with luck, just to spite us. you bang your fists, crush your jaws, look up in frustration and you can almost see god smirking down upon you. Why does this have to happen. Why oh why.

Yesterday, i spent a whole nintey minutes at the bus station, waiting for a 314. There were a million buses. 313, 315, 341, 431, 134, 143...all kinds of permutations and combinations. But out of over a hundred buses that passed by me, not one was the one that i was waiting for. Now i know that there were at least fifty other people, waiting for the same bus. But that brought little solace to my bittered heart that was only thinking that this was just another currish trick of the celestial hero, who always liked to make his presence felt for all the wrong reasons.

Now, that seems to suggest a new dimension to the postulates of believing in god. Theres always someone to blame ! Isnt it. Well picture this. How would it be if there was no one to curse. No one to hold responsible for something u couldnt control. if each time you tried as fairly as you could and yet got disapponted, and had no 'luck' to blame and no 'god' to curse. and all you could say was 'que sera sera' or 'hey, this is what i deserved'. Though this is how its supposed to be, going by our idealistic teachings...it would be awefully prosaic, dont you think. Well i do. Cuz i know you cant get everything you want, when you want it. And i know that Que sera sera it is. But still, even those insipid moments need some flavor, dont they. I know bickering and blaming would get me nowhere. Yet, we seem to derive some kind of vindictive pleasure out of an assumed verbal payback. Trifling? yes. But sorta assuaging, isnt it.

So is it okay to squawk and complain? Well, i guess yes. If dear god is as kind and forgiving as the book says, i think he'll understand. Nothing personal Thou Loving Master, we love you too.

Friday, July 2, 2010

An Inspiration...just when i needed it

At the very outset, let me let you know that what happened today was quite moving, in some ways. From this day onwards, everytime in life, im down and lonely, feeling terrible about the person i am and perpetually complaining about my life, i will certainly think about this stranger. A person i know nothing about, except the fact that he inadvertently confronted me with the most divine reality of life...that Life is beautiful, Be thankful for it.

Alright, let me start over, with the details this time. My love for ITPL is not unknown. Well, the one other place which finds a spot in my heart right next to ITPL, is the RMZ Infinity complex on Old Madras Road. I ve spent a lot of my evenings there, hanging out with ma best buddy, Deepa.

This was another one of those evenings. The weather was exceptionally welcoming. Cool and breezy, just the way i like it. A perfect day for a corn on the cob. But since that wasnt around, we thought we'd settle for a slightly more elaborate treat. So we savoured a sumptuous chocolate brownie with ice-cream and a tropical iceberg. And if that wasnt enough to wreck havoc on the weeks diet plan, we decided to top it up with a pack of french fries...large. We stepped out of Coffee day and headed straight to McDonalds, and grabbed a luxuriously murderous pack of carbs deep fried in fat ;)

Back in the open courtyard, we struck up quite a conversation as we nibbled on our fries. And i barely noticed, when the entire gabfest swiveled to me. And before i knew, all i was talkin about was myself. My problems, my miseries, my complaints. All i did was grumble on. About how i hated having to leave bangalore. How i could never enjoy a decent pack of french fries guiltlessly, cuz i was born a plumpy child. About my aching ankle that hasnt let me walk one step painlessly for an year now, or about why did i have to get married at a time i didnt want to, and about this, and about that and on and on i went, lamenting about trivial things in life that did not matter one tiny bit compared to what i saw then.

A healthy well built man, probably in his late twenties, with a very amicable smile, ascended a small flight of stairs to the pavement, briskly walked ahead and quietly passed by. The right sleeve of his trousers was neatly tucked to the back with his belt, as he supported himself on one leg and a pair of crutches !!

By the look on his face and the badge hanging from his belt, it was no difficulty determining he was a software professional or something equivalent. He was definetely an employee and it aint no secret that RMZ Infinity houses some of the best companies on the globe.

So here was a man, who hasnt let any impediment deter him from his road to success. A man who has achieved and accomplished, standing one one leg...literally !
He walked by, smiling at every person he met, no morosity on his face, no complaint in his eyes. Just a man who counted his blessings, made up his mind and followed his heart. And yes, made it good...real good.

And here i was, cribbing about little things of zero importance. Whoever he is, i know i may never see him again, but i will always remember the well taught lesson he reminded me of...just in time.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Going down memory lane...

“Darn the wheel of the world! Why must it continually turn over? Where is the reverse gear?”

Said Jack London, American short story writer and novelist, and i concur. If only dealing with life was like driving a car. You could reverse, slow down, look out of the glass, or at least honk when frustrated...!

I'm not sure if its a good idea to start writing on a nostalgic note, but its nothing else but nostalgic i feel, as i sit here gazing at the blue and white Bangalore sky, cloudy and breezy, mild sunlight peeping through every once in a while. And it only gets more arduous to fathom what hits me harder, joy or sorrow. The joy of being here, in Bangalore, living in this moment right now. Or sorrow of cognizance of the fact that im not here for long, and i cannot savour the joy of this for long enough. That what was so entirely mine, my city, my own home, isnt mine anymore. i'm just a guest here.

Getting married certainly changes a lot, and most definitely ur home. Like the very cliched hindi word goes...'paraaye'!

The fondest of my memories in Bangalore go back to the days i spent in AOL. My workplace. The office of America Online in ITPL Bangalore, was all i could ask for then. And through my tenure of 3 years, there wasnt one day i regreted being there. Being a callcentre, i spent my late night breaks at times like 2 and 3 in the morning taking solemnly walks through ITPL like it were my own backyard.

The day i accepted my relieving letter and submitted my Oh so dear badge, that made me an ITPL'er, i felt like i lost a part of me. As i looked back teary eyed at the gleaming explorer block, i promised myself that i would come back visit here as soon as i came down to Bangalore next time.

And a couple of days ago, it was time to keep my promise.

A look at ITPL from outside the gate, and it all came back ! Rushing came a million memories, welling up inside me. The joy was ecstatic, but shortlived. It was time to flash an ID proof and obtain a visitors pass. The thought of entering ITPL with a visitors pass, broke something inside me. Neverthless, in i went.
The Ice Cream shop called Polar Bear, and their Hot Chocolate Fudge, The evenings in the tranquill and serene Barista and the noisy mall square, it was all there. The imitation waterfall in the corner of the mall square had its familiar music. The KFC, Pizza Hut and Coffee Day where half of my salary went, and the Citibank ATM, where it all came from. Oh my gosh it was all there.

There were times when i soaked in the drizzle and entered office to freeze under the ac, and yet, topped it up with an ice cream. There were times when i almost missed my cab back home cuz i was too busy clicking pictures of the sunrise from the 8th floor. Oh, the cabs ! The cab to work, the cab home. They were the best part of the day.Annie, Viji, Paul, Zia, Rosh, George... i made more friends in the cab than in my team. When the whole of bangalore fussed about traffic, we nightbirds had the entire road to ourselves ! The wind through our hair, the silent alleys, the bumps of udaynagar and the sound of 'Mungaaru Malaye' on the radio. Songs i didnt understand a single word of, yet loved listening to.

Yes there was work to do. There were calls, back to back, There were hours of ranting american callers. There were mugs of coffee and cans of redbulls to keep awake. There were targets and numbers, sales and MSI, performance and metrics, late hours and meetings. And yet, the moment you pushed the logout button on Avaya, the world was a rosy place again.

i feel sad, that i had to leave this life. But im happy that it happened. Im happy that i lived every moment of it and defied the golden rule of "you know not what you have until you've lost it." i knew what i had, when i had it. I breathed every wind, breeze and storm of it, and it still perfumes my memories.

Friday, June 25, 2010

Kicking off...

So finally here i am. To finally start writing a blog of my own. Finally done with typing my email and my passwords twice. And to top it, those curiously twisted alphabets, that image verification...wallah ! In fact what i dont understand is, why do i have to go through it all over again if i made a tiny mistake somewhere in the name, i mean, once i ve proved myself human, why do i hav to keep doin it all over again ;)

Anyway, guess i'm through with that so lets leave 'em behind. Aghhh..........concentrate, concentrate on the blog.....Ahem, Ok, im good.

So, coming back to the task at hand. Well, the obvious challenge here is to decide what do i start writing about. i could write about anything. About how i wonder why i cant follow the basic rule of written english language by using capitalised 'I's when addressing to myself in the first person. Guess i just like it this way. Or how no matter how good i am with spellings, i sometimes jus cant overcome the urge to use an sms style lingo coz its such a part of our vocabulary now that the classic british english counterparts seem inappropriate now ;)

Or, getting serious, i could talk about just how happy i am to be here in my own...Bangalore right now !! Oh how much i love this city. No matter what, the bad roads, the traffic, the noise, its still...my Bangalore. The city that made me who i am.

Well, maybe its now the time to introduce myself. i realise this should hav come first, but with me, what happens is rarely what should happen ;)
So, im Mamta. Mamta Yadav. 23 years old, Married. Supposed to be from Rajasthan, cuz my parents hail from there. Spent some time in Bombay and most of it in Bangalore. Married and put up at Ambala, Haryana right now, and maybe somewhere else next year. But always, always a Bangalorean at heart.

Here on this blog, im gonna try n rediscover myself, explore myself share myself. i could write about anything intresting, anything that pops up out of nowhere, anything that gets me thinking. Or maybe jus cut, copy n paste something incredible from somewhere and try n make u believe i wrote it....!!

Well.....i should sign off for now, until i find something better to scribble here. Take care folks...