My Un-invited Guest

I am not sure if it is wise to blog about a crow, It is a known fact that not many people in India would be interested in talking about it, though it is a daily visitor at our home, perching on our window sill, hopping from one window to another, getting restless when ever it sees us munching something.. a most greedy and irritating bird, who wants his share in everything that we eat. Wants to grab everything that it sees lying around, whether it needs it or not. (Some ancestor that it is believed to be, whenever it visit me, I try to guess its relation to me) Well, it has got my attention since last two months and has held me prisoner in my own house. The story goes like this… I was out of my Mumbai for two months and the crows believed it was a haunted house. It gathered twigs from different branches and built a nest, a nice round nest, tucking it neatly on my balcony grill, very artistically made and was tied with a blue cord to make it secure. Some workmanship there…. When I came back home after two months, there were five pretty eggs, bluish in color with brown and black spots. I had no heart to destroy the nest and throw away the eggs, plus the gang of crows would not allow it. Each time I went into my balcony there would be more than twenty crows hovering near my balcony. I would show my fist to them and come back into my room. For next two months, I watched them grow and even managed to click pictures out-smarting that gang. It was a great sight watching them grow from tiny helpless mass of flesh to a full size crows. I was amazed by the care that the other crows took to see to the safety of their young ones, (humans are careless some times, but not those crows) although there were five eggs, there were only two crows hatched, I wonder what happened to other three eggs, cause there were no sign of broken, un-hatched shells…..also, my balcony was quite clean during those two months, no litter, no mess, nothing. The only thing that irritated me the most was that they were so damn rebellious when ever I wished to sit in my balcony. They would threaten me, cawing loudly and entering through my grill and flying around me. Even the bribe of bread or morsel of food would not help. They were so very protective of their young ones and were not ready to risk my presence. (“Hello, this is my house” I would protest) I normally have an evening cup of tea in my balcony, but since last two months I have been deprived of it. I have watched them grow. I saw the little ones try to spread their wings, saw them looking up into the sky with their open, pinkish beak, and trying to produce sounds that sounded like squeaks. When they were able to walk, they walked around the grill, flapping their wing, slowly practicing flying a short distance and then snuggling back into their nest for some rest. And finally, they gathered enough courage to fly into the sky. I was relieved of course. I quickly asked my helper to destroy the nest. But the crows were still rebellious and furiously cawing but she had to defy them and remove the nest. It was so strong that she had to use her strength to lift it out from the grill. Late that evening, the baby crows came back (I recognised them from their slightly pinkish beak) and they were surprised that there is no comfortable nest. But they are still there, jay walking in my balcony, not yet courageous to leave my home. And I am still a prisoner in my home

Guru, I Bow to You!

Yesterday was Guru Purnima and it was a great day to celebrate and remember the greatness of their Guru. In India, everybody has a Guru and first thing people will ask you is, ‘Who is your Guru?’. When I say ‘nobody as yet' then they are surprised and shake their head in regret telling me that there is no hope for me. I belong to a family of one Spiritual Guru, and I secretly believe and have faith in Him. He takes very good care of me. Why must I propagate my Spiritual Guru’s name in public?? Isn’t the relationship between Guru and disciple a personal matter, not to be gloated or advertised?? I respect everybody’s Gurus too. If people believe in any Guru and want to talk about his greatness, I have no problem at all but I wish they would not ask me about my beliefs. Anyways, my sister celebrated Guru Purinima in her house. Her sister-in-law is quite religious and she knows to perform many religious rites. Yours truly went to help with the decoration prior to puja Later, that evening, all the family and friends gathered in her house to sing and chant hymns while they washed the idol of their guru with oil, milk and water and then they prayed to the picture of their Guru, offering fruits and money, flowers and light from the incense coil. I was thinking of all the teachers during my school days and could not recollect any warm memories of the days with my teachers. None of the teachers ever loved me. I do remember the names of only those meanest teachers who hated me the most and they would compare me to the brightest student and point out my stupidity. Some of my teachers had promised me that I had no future at all and that I would be an idiot all my life. I have very unhappy memories of my school days cause I would be punished almost everyday and spanking was the order of the day. Some days I came home with cracked knuckles and some days with injured ear. My cheeks would always have the imprint of marks left by angry teachers. I learnt to hate them all and wanted so badly to teach them a lesson on tolerance and patience. Well, some people are lucky that they have found a good guide in their teacher and are happy to remember them on this day. It was a good feeling to see the devotion of people around me. All the people chanted happily about the greatness of their Guru and later enjoyed the feast of snacks and drink. I went away mid way, to a book store, to pay my patronage to the books at the store. Most of my life, I have done self study. Knowledge to me has come from that printed matter and it has given me all the joy. My spiritual Guru is in my heart and the printed words balms my mind. I am also grateful to my family and my close friends who have stood by me, have guided me, encouraged me and had faith in me. I am proud to be a person that I am, hopefully not as stupid as my teachers imagined me to be…...

I have changed my profession, have started farming….

I have just one plant at home that was gifted to me by my sister, a bamboo plant. My sister promised me that it would bring me luck, I am not sure whether its’ magic is working on me., but yes, it is out there, near my main door, growing healthily. But I cannot take credit of this healthy plant because I am so damn lazy that I cannot take care of plants. I am too lazy to even go to fetch water for myself, so how do I find strength to go and water the plants? The task of watering the plant is handed over to my maid, who dutifully waters and tends to the plant whenever she thinks it is time to do so. But that does not mean that I do not like plants, actually, I love plants, especially those flowering trees that line up the road in my lane. I love the fragrance and the colors that brighten up my days, its' freshness and the greenery and I sometimes wish I were not so lazy, then, may be I would probably tend a garden too. Now-a-days, all I like is sitting in front of this computer and reading and writing. I enjoy meeting my friends on face book, reading their status and playing scrabble with them, there are links that my friends direct me to visit and I go to those links to read what they find it interesting, and now, my friend sents me a potted plant on face book. Wow! thats kewl! isn't it? It’s true that I cannot do the break breaking job of tending a garden, but this virtual farm town on the face book is something different, and quite a blessing indeed. Now I have become a farmer, I buy land, plough fields, plant seed, and harvest the ripe fruits and crops and sell the produce. sometimes I store them because I am too lazy to go to market and sometimes I hire help during harvesting. Its loads of fun and I am quite enjoying it. I even visit my friend’s farm and look after their farm when they are busy and I am not feeling too weak. hahaaha! In two days I have learnt to grow grapes, potatoes, I have some animals in my farms too and now is in process of putting fence around animals because otherwise they keep escaping and walking all over the fields. I will even buy a farm house. When I am rich with lots of trees and enough stock of fruits and vegetables, I will be able to invite some friends to come and spend few days on my farm. No need to rent a car, or buy fuel to reach my farm, it is just a click away, now that is what I would call a ‘Mouse Potato’ huh??

My Birthday Celebration

Till the age of twelve, I did not know the date of my birth….every day was the same and nobody cared. Being the fifth girl in the family, I was most unwelcomed arrival into this world. So the celebration was naturally out of question.

At school, I would receive sweets and chocolates from my friends and sometimes was even invited for birthday parties but mine was never ever celebrated. I envied all the rich girls and hoped to be born in a better home in my next birth. I always wished that some one would celebrate my birthday, make me feel important, shower me with gifts and get me those frilly new dresses. But being fatherless, things were different.

 Luckily for me, I was blessed with most beautiful and caring mother but she also had her own problems and was under too much stress. Living in a joint family without a spouse is difficult, life is hard. Therefore I never dared ask her for a celebration of my birthday nor did I ever ask her the date of my birth.

 It was at the age of thirteen that I finally learnt the date. That was when I had changed school and I was able to peep into my school leaving certificate. It said 27th June and I waited, glancing at the calendar everyday, waiting for the day to arrive. And at the age of fourteen, I finally celebrated my birthday for the first time in my life.

Being inexperienced, I took all my friends for a movie and then treated them with Samosas and drink and the culture of celebrating birthdays began.

 But, this kind of celebration always embarrasses me, I no more enjoy the attention and the fuss associated wih it and normally like to spend it quietly. But, friends who care, drop in uninvited to wish me and I treat my friends for a lunch or an outing and have a good time.

 But this year, things were different. It coincided with a marriage celebrations of my cousin’s son in Jaipur. Now, Jaipur is the place I was born in but I have never ever celebrated my birthday there. It sounds good! My sister decided to gift me a return air ticket, and that was a perfect. So, this year, the birthday celebration was different.

I wore a new dress, travelled to Jaipur, took a tourist bus from airport to ‘Le Meridian Hotel’ a fifty minutes drive (during which I was able to get some great shots of the city), was received with traditional music, a flower garland and a warm welcome, and I was given a suite, the biggest room in the hotel that I shared with her mom (she always says that I am her favorite cousin whenever she introduces me to her friends, so naturally, I deserve the best..), attended the Hi-Tea event, where we were introduced to other guests, and then late evening, there was a welcome party in the hotel with delicious cuisine and entertainment.

There were many dances organised, including belly dancers who put in their best performance…. Although all the guests were attending this wedding celebration, I pretended that it was my party…..

hahahaha!! What more can one ask???

Living in a Talibanised Society

There is a news article about a British Muslim woman who feels that veil is simply a tool of oppression which is used to alienate and control women under the guise of religious freedom and is calling on the government to follow the lead of French President Nicolas Sarkozy and ban burkha in the country. She feels that the veil restricts women. It stops them achieving their full potential in all areas of their life, and it stops them from communication. It sends out a clear message: 'I do not want to be part of your society.' This reminds me of my trip to Kuwait some years ago. While in Kuwait, I saw many women in burkhas. I knew that they were fashionable from their selection of high heeled shoes and their beautiful, smooth white skin that was laced with crystal bracelets and diamond rings. The eyes that peeped through that slit also had mascara and eye make-up. The women moved in groups and I would see them in malls shopping for branded clothes. On my way back to Mumbai, I was wheeled to my seat before the other passengers. I saw many women in burkha board the aircraft. But this particular woman had left a lasting impression on me. She had approached my seat, and confirmed it to be next to mine. Before sitting, she went to cloakroom. When she came back, she had burkha under her arm. The woman who sat next to me was chirpy teenager with a sweet smile and was dressed in branded jeans and noodle-strapped blouse.