Showing posts with label Reflections. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Reflections. Show all posts
11

The whole Indian wedding tamasha

Posted by Yashika Totlani Khanna on 12:33 PM in , ,

Unlike several other countries in the world, the meaning of ‘wedding’ in the Indian context is very different. It encompasses every other factor, other than the willingness of the boy or the girl. In the ‘arranged wedding’ scenario, a concept largely ridiculed in the west, the boy and the girl are simply expected to wed as strangers and then fall in love. If any differences or incompatibilities arise later... the duo is expected to reconcile to them within four walls. Because like the couple once obliged to fall in love with the person of their parent’s choice, they are also expected to tow their lines in terms of what KIND of person they have to get used to.

I am not suggesting that such matches are always forced or that they always end up failing. A good amount of them even manage to work. But all elders in this country have got to understand that there are only a certain ‘type’ of people you can expect to put up with this arrangement. I am a journalist and I have always lived life on my own terms. Owing to adequate financial independence that I have experienced in recent years, I feel I am fairly equipped to pick my own match. And to stick to that choice and live it through, because at least at the end of the day, it is still MY decision that I am putting up with. And the decision was not made for me by somebody else. It can go wrong and things can fall apart, but that way I have at least not smothered my wishes, just to be ‘socially acceptable’. Nor have I wrapped myself up as a candy to be presented to a ‘market’ of suitable boys (don’t know what mind-fucked people come to do that kind of bidding). And I would own full responsibility for my actions.

Which brings us to the moot point of which ‘kind’ of people agree to enter the ‘arranged marriage’ scenario. This is the breed that has either loved their family way too much, more than anything else, to ever fall as much in love with anybody else. Or the variety that feels it is not in their ‘culture’ to disregard what their parents ask them to do. Now the second variety worries me the most. Because these are the same people who can never say ‘no’ to anything that is asked of them. ‘Marry him/her’... yes. ‘Have babies with them now’... yes. ‘He is cheating on you? Put up with it. Marriage is all about compromises’... yes. ‘You feel you are incompatible? Manage it... it’s your life and he/she is your spouse. Get used to them’... yes. The ‘yes-saga’ has no end but lifelong implications of this can be catastrophic. People tend to become subdued, reserved, irritable, irrational, non-objective... and ultimately end up sleeping in different rooms. Because in their words... their natures ‘never matched’. I might sound a little extreme but the crux of my argument shall come to life only if such extremities are cited.

On the other hand, people who marry out of ‘love’ are less likely to end up in different bedrooms. They have known each other, had their say, known their expectations and most importantly, the onus lies on them to make it work. Because they made their own choice. The learning of making a love-marriage work is the learning of a lifetime. You live with your ‘decision’ everyday. Wake up with them, sleep with them and grow with them. The learning might be sweet or it might be bitter, but it is of your own making. And it shall always remain that way. Everybody makes mistakes in their youth and the Indian parents need to allow their kids to make those ‘mistakes’ once. They might work or they might not. But there is never the added pressure of not having other avenues or exits. These ‘mistakes’ teach one to be independent in life, and responsible, for all things that happen to them or are made to happen.

A marriage is more than just about maintaining social standing or stature. And children are more than just mere badges that parents can pin-up on their shoulders. Nor are children means for parents to live the kind of lives that they never lived on their own. The two parties in a married couple eventually have to cope with their own lives, and the easier it is made for them, the better. At a basic level, the voices that advocate ‘own match picking’ need to be heard. Being ‘liberal’ has always been the way forward and by holding old customs or traditions very close to the heart, folks today are being insensitive to the needs of the times. They have to be more supportive and respectful of their children’s wishes. Times have changed and they can’t dictate rules about how lives should be lived. Honour-killings should be stopped and a thought has to be spared to what makes your own flesh-and-blood happy. For there is no substitute for consensual coexistence to give life to the ‘happily ever after’...


11

Santa jingles...

Posted by Yashika Totlani Khanna on 8:58 PM in ,
Take two... my second attempt at writing this post. First draft lacked structure and sounded random. Writing television news has changed the way I write. My sentences are shorter, English is simpler and I am almost always writing for some imaginary audience. No more, not here... no sir.

Writer’s block had yet again jammed the grey artilleries in my brain. The juices aren’t flowing like they once used to and the mind requires some literary exercise. I haven’t written for this space in a while and I feel lost. Lost in the crowd and lost in the flurry of action & activity that defines my life right now. Little time to smell the roses and even lesser time to replenish the essentials that wholly constituted my life before the madness began. But I vowed to myself to not get lost in the maddening crowd... and I am back at my favourite place to reflect some more on life and times. Blogging helps me channelize my thoughts in a crystal-clear way...

Life has simplified a bit. There are fewer things that demand attention. Friends have become busy and the pressures of maintaining an active social life have soothed. Not that I didn’t enjoy mingling with my favourite people. But everybody is hooked now, as am I. And luckily, the bonds have remained... only to be rekindled on stolen trips back home or wherever these hidden treasures reside.

But while things have simplified in some respects... a greater investment of my time is needed elsewhere. The quality versus quantity debate seems to have crept into the picture and I know I have grown up. The last year or so had been fast and energetic. My endurance, patience and comfort levels have been tested like never before. On the personal front, things have evolved too. I have become more content and satisfied as a person. Existing bonds have solidified. Temperaments and rationales have passed the test of time...

Life has come a half-circle, as opposed to a full one, and I feel ready to experience more. Christmas and New Years are just around the corner and Santa has also popped out, buzzing with jingling bells in my head. Emotions have passed through the prism of time and split into a rainbow of jubilation and exhilaration.

Random, erratic thoughts are the essence of this post... but I shall be back to write and share more. Stay tuned ;)

25

A Princess Remembered

Posted by Yashika Totlani Khanna on 10:29 AM in , , ,


Maharani Gayatri Devi
23 May 1919 – 29 July 2009

Vignette…
Born in London as the princess of Cooch Behar (West Bengal), voted by Vogue magazine as one of the ten most beautiful women in the world, third wife of the last ruling prince Maharaja Sawai Man Singh II of Jaipur, a pioneer in women’s education in Rajasthan, an avid equestrienne like her husband, a Guinness record holder for the biggest landslide Lok Sabha victory of 78.25% of the total votes cast during her term in governance in 1962 (C. Rajagopalachari’s Swatantra Party, running against the Congress), brand ambassador of Nakshatra diamond jewellery for their royal princess collection, and the owner of a Rs.2000 crore legacy after her death – are some feathers in the cap of an enigmatic Rajmata of Jaipur, Maharani Gayatri Devi.

A walk down the imperially embedded corridors of royalty…
My first impression of the lady was to see her show up meticulously for each school function. As it happens, I am an alumnus of Maharani Gayatri Devi Girls’ Public School in Jaipur. The school was founded by Rajmata in 1943 and subsequently the management was handed over to the double tier staff. Like most aged educational institutions, the school started off with just 30 students in the first batch. Overtime, the numbers have increased to encompass about 2500 students studying at the institute at one time.

During my younger days in the renowned institution, I remember seeing Gayatri Devi grace each occasion with her presence. She used to turn up in a convoy of white Ambassadors on both ends and a glistening swanky sedan for herself in the middle. Draped in crisp chiffon sarees, she would wear spotless white pearls for jewellery and cover her head in keeping with the tradition. Others of the royal family, including Rani Vidya Devi, often accompanied her on various occasions. When asked to speak on the stage, she would speak passionately about women, the importance of their role in the society, the importance of good education and the power of knowledge. Citing examples from her personal life, she would speak to us about the struggle of growing up as a woman and would constantly encourage us to take life head-on as it comes. She discussed the challenges of her own life, and would talk to us about her lost husband and son in a ceremonious manner. We would listen to it with unwavering attention.

The one thing that she never spoke about was the valour that she displayed when the Indira Gandhi government locked her up in Tihar Jail for five months in 1971 on charges of tax evasion. Eventually she was released for lack of evidence. Humility and modesty infested her in good measure. Upon her release, she quit politics and went on to write an autobiography. The book was called ‘A Princess Remembers: The Memoirs of the Maharani of Jaipur’ and that’s where we get our knowledge about her days in prison. It also talks about her responses to the several challenges that she faced as a maharani.



The diamond-studded battle for good health…
As part of the privileged lot who got to see her up close on various occasions we also, sadly, bore witness to her deteriorating health. For the first time in the history of the school since its inception, on my passing-out ceremony in 2005, she delivered a sitting lecture out of a chair. That night she explained that this was such because she ‘had no strength to stand for more than a few minutes.’ The end of that farewell ceremony was a detour from tradition too. While the norm was for her to sign each student’s kurta at the close of the night, that day the maharani could sign just a handful before she assessed her health was frail and decided to take off with other members of the royal family. Right then, we knew that something was not right.

The heartbreaking end and a timeless legacy…
The lady who gave us subtle lessons in sophistication by her elegant displays of royalty suddenly passed away on 29th day of July this year due to chronic health troubles and an ultimate lung failure. It would be wrong to say that we didn’t see it coming, but the abruptness of the event took us all by surprise. When the denial mode ended, the vacuum was filled by a deep sense of remorse at the tragic loss.

Along with being a lady of substance who underlined the role of women in the today’s society, she was labeled a rebel in the royal houseold because of her non-conformist behaviour and varied interests. Her rollicking romance with Sawai Man Singh before marriage, her interest in sports, her exceptional work in politics, and her unbound thoughts on the way a modern society should work helped define her as a person beyond convention. When we were in her presence, we shone in the light emanating from her glittering persona.

To walk a golden line of balance after the demise…
The aftermath of her death has been disheartening. A property dispute has broken out in the royal family. The three main claimants to her assets are – her grandchildren Devraj Singh and Lalitya Devi (born to late Jagat Singh and Priyanandana Rangsit) and her step son Bhawani Singh by the law of primogeniture (the eldest son of Sawai Man Singh with his marriage to Marudhar Kanwar). The absence of a real will is causing turbulent waves within the family affairs of the various fighting factions. A public will to be displayed to the media on 9th August never came up. Devraj and Lalitya came up with a corny one-page will of their own recently.

The disputed assets are the Ram Bagh Palace (worth almost Rs.500 crore - leased to Taj Group for running a luxury hotel), Jai Mahal Palace (another Rs.300 crore), Moti Doongri Fort (Rs.100 crore), Lilypool (the palace complex where she lived), City Palace (Rs.200 crore) and Sawai Man Singh’s clubs and investments (Rs.500 crore). In addition several pieces of art, diamonds, jewellery, designer clothes and other personal items are up for grabs too.
(Source for listing assets: India Today, 7 September 2009)

The sooner the dispute gets resolved the better. Firstly, because is brings a lot of disgrace to the blue bloods of Rajasthan. And second, because Gayatri Devi would never have entertained her descendants quibbling over property. It’s a family of plenty, and hence whatever comes out of the battle will be closely watched by the public. Till then, we should focus on remembering the maharani for what she was - a living legend and a voice to many. Count this as my untimely tribute to the lady of grace, poise and personal strength.

342

I was clicked!

Posted by Yashika Totlani Khanna on 4:05 PM in , ,
So the day was Valentines Day and I was on my way to Khan Market for lunch. Like most times, I was traveling by the delhi metro. Due to a recent expansion, the metro was full when I boarded. As a result I had to stand by a glass separator that disjoins the seat from the door. While I stood by the door on one side of the glass… a funny looking, 30 year old-something, fidgety man sat at the other side. He seemed deeply engrossed in his cellphone and through the glass separator I saw that he was playing a mobile game. At Kashmere Gate station (a major stop where a lot of shuffling of crowd happens), he suddenly got up and offered me his seat to sit. In my mind, I thought ‘what a sweet guy to vacate his seat for a lady!’ and sat down. Two more women came in to fill the adjacent seats that had just been vacated by people getting down at the stop.

All was well until I noticed that the 30-something old man’s phone camera was conspicuously pointed in my direction while he stood there in front of me. Although the thought that he might be clicking a picture did strike me once, I quickly dismissed it assuming he must still be playing his game. And there is indeed little room for maneuvering in a crowded train. So I decided to let it be.

After a while he turned, went and stood at another spot a few feet away from me. It was then that a 20-something year old college student, wearing a red sweatshirt, came to me and whispered gently in my ear “He just clicked your picture”. I was baffled and asked him to repeat. “He just clicked your picture. I was standing behind him and I saw”, he said. A little shaken, I poked the 30-something old man who was now standing with his back to me. He obviously didn’t respond and I had to call out to him and poke him a little harder to make him turn. I asked him if he had clicked any picture and he blatantly said he hadn’t. The 20-something guy was still standing there and affirmed that he had seen him click it. The 30-something man offered me his phone and said I could go through his gallery if I had any doubts. I looked at him a little apprehensively trying to see the truth in his face, and reluctantly declined saying I’ll take his word for it. But the 20-something boy insisted that I go through his phone because he was positive a picture had been clicked. On my refusal, he grabbed the phone himself from the 30-something’s outstretched hand and started sifting through his gallery.

Correctly indeed, there it was a picture of me saved at the top of his archives. The 20-something red sweatshirt guy looked at me and said “See! I told you he clicked it!” Wow. I was shocked at the pervert-mindedness and reached for the intercom that would’ve connected me to the metro driver. Before I could press the button, the 30-something guy immediately said sorry and promised that he would delete it. While he was talking, I saw that the 20-something samaritan had already deleted the picture and was checking the gallery for more shots. On finding none, he handed him back his phone with a disapproving look on his face. Both of them got down at the next station. The 30-something guy got down because everybody was looking at him and murmuring, and the 20-something collegian because I assume his station had come. I slipped him a quick ‘Thank You’ before he disembarked.

Post-script: For the next twenty minutes until the train terminated, the women next to me couldn’t stop discussing what a weird place the world had become. They kept asking me if he had deleted the picture and what he would have possibly achieved by pulling off a sly act like that. As if in a response to their own question, they went on to mull how many inappropriate uses were possible of such shots. They also kept reminding me that the sincere looking, red sweatshirt guy had saved the day for me. I kept nodding in agreement and continued shaking my head in disbelief.

Epilogue: Just when you start thinking that the world is devoid of all good people, incidents like these remind you that we still have a few good men left. On giving it some thought, we deduce that the college guy wasn’t going to get anything out of the whole incident. But he still stepped up to raise his voice against something that he felt was morally incorrect. I still think I hadn’t thanked him enough. If by some dumb stroke of luck he happens to read this some day, I would like to tell him that it is because of men like him (and a few others) that women nurture the hope of having a equal, safe society for them one day. A big Thank you once again.

9

Over to the rains…

Posted by Yashika Totlani Khanna on 9:32 AM in ,
2355 hrs
Delhi

Upon somebody’s indirect mention today that my neglect for the blog has spilt over several months now, I feel compelled to come up here and infuse some activity into my dormant space. Time has been a slight issue ever since work started and the biggest sufferer, I now realize, has been the writer in me. So here is an attempt at a quick redress… a warm up of sorts.
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After the few initial weeks of discomfort (severe, grievous, spartan), I’ve finally come in terms with this novel life in the fast lane. The clock is attuned to this new ticking and I’m beginning to appreciate the simple pleasures of life again, maybe even more than ever before. The city was thronged with receding monsoon showers today and I managed some time in the evening to come out in the open and have my share of pitter-patter gazing and wind stealing. For all those still interested… it proved soothing and cathartic. A welcome usurpation of nature after dry days spent almost locked up in a cubicle staring at my computer screen… either finishing assignments or browsing Bloomberg dissecting the Lehman bankruptcy. At a time when bad news pours in from all directions (the Thackeray’s new ploy to gain political mileage by pulling off absurd role-plays, to a super bearish Wall Street, to violence against Christians in several states by the notorious VHP, to a fragile Pakistan getting diffident by the day under unstable leadership, to bomb blasts in saddi dilli, to a mud-sling fest in the US elections)… the showers should at least give the journalists something nice to write about in tomorrow’s newspapers.

I’m deviating. Coming back to the rains… there’s something peculiar about them that make them so popular. Traffic snarls and waterlogging aside… the rains mean many more things to a shower-starved Delhi. It could be their uncanny ability to transport the free minds to more joyous terrains, or exposing the jovial ones to newer pinnacles of liberation… they’re symbolic of free spirit and romanticism. At a stage when life teaches new things at every step… today I managed to discover repose in the midst of a traffic-clogged street. Soothing music, a special presence, pitter-patter noises against the steel of a car and my raindrops-blurred vision to the world outside. The rains surely mean more things to a shower-starved city… maybe the romanticist in me has got something to do with it…

13

In retrospect…

Posted by Yashika Totlani Khanna on 9:46 AM in , ,
A million buried emotions,
Rhapsodic moments stashed away in the past.
Irredeemable, irreplaceable…
Now just eternal imprints on the heart.

Reminiscences recollections,
Stories scribbled on the sands of time.
A gush of waves and all washes away…
Echoes in corridors of mind, still make the heart chime.

12

City interrupted

Posted by Yashika Totlani Khanna on 5:47 PM in , , ,
I wasn’t going to write about this. To relieve the horrors of the past isn’t one of my favourite pastimes and I was hoping against hope that the country, along with its news agencies, would soon forget about it too. But turn on the tv and all you see is extensive coverage of the Jaipur blasts that rocked the city yesterday evening. The happenings are splashed all across the newspapers and anywhere I look, I see and hear more news coming in from all directions. It is still hard to believe that a series of blasts shook up the streets I have used throughout my growing up. Holed up in my house owing to a curfew in the old city, I see no better way to spend the evening than by following in the footsteps of our mighty politicians and ‘condemning’ the blasts some more myself...

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A resident of Kanwar Nagar, I was in my car and fifteen minutes away from Manak Chowk when it happened. I was blocked out of my part of the city for three long hours. I had to take refuge at a friend’s house to shield myself from the six other blasts that followed the first blast. I heard the strongest of voices quiver… I saw terror in the calmest of eyes. I soothed the woes of concerned friends n family. It’s the next day and the phone calls still haven’t stopped. I saw the empty streets… and now I’m witnessing a curfew in the walled city that the officials say will not be lifted before 6pm today. SMS hospital needs O -ve blood. I can’t go because I’m under a virtual house arrest inside the walled city…

The aftermath of yesterday’s happenings could have been a lot worse. Being a Tuesday when maximum devotees throng the hanuman temple (one of the blast spots), it could have easily blown into a full-scale communal riot. The prevailing calm, on the other hand, reflects on the levelheadedness of the city that refuses to get instigated by such deliberate provocations. In fact the only apparent positive consequence of blasts anywhere in India is the rare display of unity and brotherhood amongst the people. Grief is the common thread that runs along them all and unites them in their hour of sorrow. It’s emboldening to see them join hands and stand united against the common element of terror. Unfazed and undeterred, they make an attempt to move on together.

The face of terror is ugly. One way or the other… there is no justification for killing scores of innocents out on the streets of an otherwise peaceful city. Was it the tenth anniversary of the Pokhran tests or was it just another attempt by HuJI and SIMI activists to make their presence felt, is one issue. The extent and reach of these organizations is another issue that is disturbing. Was it the Bangladesh based HuJI, the notorious LeT or some other terrorist organization? Investigations are on and time will tell. The chief minister put the death toll at 60 and the injured figure at 150. Mrs.Raje, actually in Jodhpur at the time of the blasts, even announced a compensation of 5 lacs for the dead and 1 lac for the injured. Never enough for the loss of a loved one… this is the government’s attempt to sideline the complacency in security measures that had crept in owing to a clean past of 280 years of no violence. Is anybody ever truly safe? Can we take our lives and the lives of our loved ones for granted? In the 21st century India… no we cant.

Delhi, Varanasi, Mumbai, Malegaon, Hyderabad, Lucknow, Faizabad and now Jaipur. It’s a disturbing trend that the focus of terror has shifted to even non-metros in the recent years. The official death and injury figures are still rising. The victims tales on television make the heart wrench with pain. A few minutes here and there and it could have been me… or somebody else I knew. In a country where life comes cheap and hangs by the thread… what pains the heart is the whole media cycle of extensive reporting in the first few days, brief mentions in the next and finally a complete lapse of memory thereafter. The amnesia ends when another attack lashes yet another city and brings back memories of the last event. What about learning our lessons from one incident and implementing them elsewhere? Why do we need these rude reminders about slack security to garner the attention of officials who refuse to harbour the notion that this could happen in their city? Is it not a shame that national disasters like these can still boil down to a filthy political blame games, like in Jaipur where a fleeting tv footage shows Vasundhara Raje blaming the center for lack of security arrangements? Somebody needs to own up responsibility and stringent security measures need to be implemented. Who picks up the baton, though, is a question that is not getting any easy answers.

I mock the condemnation expressed by our leaders because that is all that they seem to be doing these days. When they can easily beef up security across the country by installing CCTVs and metal detectors at busy places, approving more stringent identity checks in inter-state travels, enhancing security norms and providing increased patrolling… they consider their job done by simply expressing disapproval. (The infiltration on the borders, especially across Jammu & Kashmir, is another deranging concern…. but that is outside the scope of this article). Help and support from foreign countries is not enough and our leaders need to realize that they are as much a part of these tragedies as the aggrieved. Efforts need to be made to protect the lives of ordinary citizens like you and me. On our part, we must stay informed and be alert. Exercising caution is half the battle won.

From the twin tower tragedy in the US to the train bombings in London… every nation has had its share of terrorism. Needless loss of human life is a malady that demands immediate attention. A lot needs to be done in this regard, for there is no shame bigger than a nation’s incapacity to sustain life and make its citizens feel safe.

8

Mystique of the Bombay waters…

Posted by Yashika Totlani Khanna on 4:57 AM in , ,



There’s something about Bombay that draws me to it…
3:30 at night, sifting through my albums, looking for snaps to pass on to a friend… I’m reminded of the two wonderful days that I spent recently in the maximum city. Reflecting on what enthralled my senses the most, the answer emerges almost effortlessly when I think of the sea. From carter road to marine drive… the sea held my attention for unusually long spells, much to the dismay of my Bombay relations who loathed the idea of even setting foot on the beach. So while the world was busy shunning away the waters, I rolled up my jeans and stepped in without any inhibition.
Two tranquil evenings in Bombay, both spent on the beaches, pondering over the vagaries of the everyday world. Standing on the shoreline, I had the hustle-bustle of a very busy metro city on one end… and the comfort of a serene endless sea on the other. Why am I going gaga over the waters? Well for one, having spent almost my entire life shuttling between Jaipur and Delhi, the absence of beaches or any other form of water-body made its presence felt early in my existence. Second, and this realization is relatively new, I recently discovered my love for Mother Nature.
Standing at the shore with the water hitting my legs and then retreating gently while slowly taking away with it the sand from beneath my feet, I shift my weight from foot to foot… staring aimlessly at the seams of the sea blending subtly with the blues of the sky at the horizon. Marine drive, famous as the queen’s necklace, affords the most scenic pleasures that the eyes could ask for. While progressing from evening to night, watching the sun disappear behind the high-risers and skyscrapers that define the Bombay skyline… I pat my back for having reserved an isolated spot on marine drive for soaking in the view that I knew I wouldn’t be seeing again in a very long time. While my friends grumble from behind that Goa has all the real beaches and this place hardly qualifies as even hygienic… I ignore the ranting and continue to revel in the moment. I think about Dharavi, and I think about the Taj. I think about gloominess, and I think about delightedness. I think about what lay buried deep inside the Arabian Sea waters, and I think about the untold secrets that the endless skies held up there for us. I feel like a free bird for whom the entire ocean spread ahead, while simultaneously I also feel like an insignificant speck in contrast to the spread of the whole wide universe. The senses betray each other. While the ears are engaged by the stillness of the sea, occasionally stirred by the sound of the waters hitting the shores… the eyes see the moving cars and constant motion in a city that is touted as never being asleep. There’s something about Bombay that draws me to it… the compounding of two polar fantasies here on the beach might have something to do with it…







14

Gujjar riots 2: Revisited

Posted by Yashika Totlani Khanna on 11:31 PM in ,
5th October 2007
Friday
Jaipur

(Yeah, this happened a lot of days back but I’m penning it down today cause my writings had taken a beating due to what was going on in my personal sphere. Now after the wind has passed and the dust has settled in a fashion I highly favour… the pen was bound to come out soon).

The incident happened on a perfectly chirpy day when the air deceits you into believing that all would turn out to be fine. Here’s a glimpse into what happened:

10:00 am:
The news headlines are playing and I’m sitting lazily in my living room, brooding over what plagues our country over a cup of coffee. I’m home for vacations and the nitty-gritties of daily domestic life are playing themselves around me. Mom is in the kitchen fixing us a quick breakfast and dad is on the phone spelling out instructions to the engineer about how the new kitchen that we’re getting done should look like. I’m taking it all in with quiet satisfaction at the fact that some things never change… no matter how long you stay away from home. One quick glance at the clock and I realize I need to go pick Rahul, my younger brother, from school. His exams are going on while he’s also trying to recuperate from a sorry medical condition. In my quest not to be late, I quickly finish my coffee, grab the car keys and am on my way.

10:20 am:
Now going to the school was not a problem. Neither did it intimate me of the dangers that lay ahead on my way back. You see that’s the ‘beauty’ of living in a small town… you never assume that you’ll ever get stuck in anything even remotely close to a riot.

I made it on time and after some quick questions about how the exam was, Rahul and I were on our way back. Now anyone who is even sparingly aware of the roads and routes in Jaipur should be able to make more sense of what follows. We were coming back from M.I. Road, where St. Xaviers is located, and were going towards Hawa Mahal, the area around which I live. At the Ajmeri Gate Chauraha, I was waiting at the red light. The traffic in the city has evolved and one might be forced to wait for two, even three, red lights before he is finally allowed to pass through. In normal circumstances, I would object to such long waits and succumb to road rage. But today was different because of two reasons. Firstly because I was happy about the homecoming; and secondly because I was getting to drive daddy’s new car. Glasses up, a.c. and loud music on, I was oblivious to what was going on outside. Two red lights down, it was my turn to move ahead. Now this is where your ears should perk up… out of the blue, I see this huge mob approaching the road from our left. The trajectory was such that while the cars ahead of me could just manage to slip away before the mob arrived… I was amongst the unfortunate few who were left behind. As the mob blocked the way, I realized I had crossed the red light (so there was no turning back) and couldn’t even move ahead because the mob now surrounded my car. Lathis and banners in place, for a second I thought it’s all over. The next few seconds were spent in turning off the music and trying to come in terms with the fact that if nothing else, I’m at least losing my windshield today. Looking at the slogan-shouting, banner-flaunting crowd… I knew no mercy would be spared. My brother was sitting next to me, not fully aware of what was going on. The bemused expression in his eyes just gave way to his confusion, but not the slightest hint of fear. Adding fuel to fire was a media photographer rapidly clicking away pictures of the two of us trapped in the once-cozy confines of our car.

Hmmm… I noticed I was leading a blue car right behind me (the rest had stopped at the red light itself) and decide to take a left turn from there. Left… the direction from where the mob was coming. I still don’t know what prompted that decision but my only bet was to stick to my guns. The car behind me followed. So far so good… the lathis hadn’t hit the windshield yet. Behind me, the motorcyclists were being manhandled. Their bikes were history and their faces were a huge red web of terror.

I weaved my way through the mob… tried talking to a traffic cop who, unfortunately, was as baffled as me. Realizing he wasn’t going to do any good… I looked around for an exit and quickly spotted one at the far end of the road. The challenge: reaching there unhurt. Then the added responsibility of taking care of my brother was weighing down on me. Glasses still rolled up… I took a deep breath and started moving towards the elusive end. A distance of roughly 60 meters had to be covered but the pack of people weren’t making things any easier. I had covered a good 35 meters when, inevitably, fury found me. A group of protestors, seeing a car trying to get away, turned furiously towards us and were about to bombard our vehicle with their lathis when something transpired between us and them. The fury in those angry eyes toned down immediately when they saw a hapless girl behind the wheel and her little brother sitting with a quiet expression on his face.

Now, call it fate or luck or providence or whatever you mortals like to call it--- but the protestors actually made room for us to pass through and I, grabbing the opportunity before they changed their mind, quickly zapped my way to the exit. Looking at the rear-view mirror, I saw that the blue car behind us had also been allowed to pass because the occupants were a harried looking senior couple. Letting out a sigh of relief… we made our way home without even turning back once. Let bygones be bygones!

Epilogue:
On reaching home, we narrated what had happened to mom and dad who literally flipped out after hearing the whole description. Evening papers later in the day were full of stories about what was going on in the city. For the uninitiated, I wouldn’t mind giving a lowdown on what the riots were all about. These were the infamous Gujjar Riots. Gujjar is a community in Rajasthan that is demanding ST status to increase the ambit of reservations available to their class. The government, obviously not okay with the demands, is resisting the pressure that the Gujjar’s are now trying to create by initiating a spate of unprecedented riots in the state. In the fray are big Rajasthan MPs and MLAs including hotshots like Sachin Pilot and Nathu Singh Gujjar.

Just to bring it to focus, the Gujjar riots have had a bearing on my existence in the past as well. Read more about it here. One sincere request to the people and government alike is to show better cooperation and at least ensure that normal life isn’t affected due to trivial tiffs and disagreements. Its not pretty, its not convenient, and it almost definitely violates the rules of staying together in a harmonious society.

16

Valentine vertigo, veracious me and random panorama!

Posted by Yashika Totlani Khanna on 2:11 AM in , , ,
A fresh new post… a clean new slate to put forth my views (yet again!).

Note of caution: To the die-hard Valentine’s Day supporters/fans/fanatics--- this piece is not for you. I advice you to bid adieu asap and not turn back even once.

All said… if you’re still hanging around… I fathom you have the patience and willingness to hear me out. The last thing I want to do is to sound sermonizing, so I’ll break this post into tiny interesting fragments… and spruce it up with real pictures (all taken first-hand by yours truly!).

Ridiculous tactics: Picture #1



Ridiculous tactics: Picture #2



PART I
I’m-no-agony-aunt
7th Feb:
I’m working out in a gym and the radio is on to keep us entertained. Running on a treadmill… huff puff… beads of sweat rolling down my forehead. What am I listening to? The RJ goes like “Call 64646… say ‘I love radio mirchi’ and win a candle-lit dinner in orient express with your loved one on valentine’s day!” Hmmm… tempting. For the uninitiated, Orient Express in one of the 50 finest restaurants in the world.
Standard reaction 1--- I’m flabbergasted… has it already begun??

8th Feb:
The v-day fever is catching up thick and fast with the other radio stations as well… offers and prizes are getting dearer (and better!) each passing minute. Switch on the tv and all channels are busy show-casing commercials related to the obvious. Not even the news channels are spared. My good old CNN-IBN also shows a ‘deliver flowers to your valentine’s doorstep (with no extra shipping charges)… call xxx-xxxx-xxx… toll free!’ commercial while I let out a loud groan.
Standard reaction 2--- The denial mode is over… time to start sighing! It’s that time of the year again.

9th Feb:
Things are getting worse. Hoardings in the campus have been changed to the ones that scream out and educate the naïve junta about the attractive v-day offers up for grabs (see picture #1… it’s a classic!). RJs are still going berserk with the prizes and proposals.
Standard reaction 3--- Aaarghh… for how much longer am I supposed to take this?

10th Feb:
A little birdie comes and coos into my ear that SaReGaMa has launched a new album… something by the name of ‘love rocks’ Even amazon.com has suddenly gone crimson!
Standard reaction 4--- I am trying to masquerade my disgust in the garb of a wry smile and slight smirk.

11th Feb:
D-day is drawing closer and I am happy. Why?? Cause I see an end to the gibberish just close by. Although the constant ranting of RJs and the print media advertising still irks me no end.
Standard reaction 5--- Waiting with bated breath for the 14th to come… and go!

12th Feb:
Things are uncontrollable… the dam has broken to make way for what may be called a sea of red hearts and pink kisses!
Standard reaction 6: I try and turn a deaf ear n blind eye to everything but fail miserably at it :(

13th Feb:
D/V-Day eve! I’m out in kamla nagar for some mobile related work and what I see leaves me all the more cantankerous and even disgusted to some extent (refer to picture #2 for explanation). Even the once faithful comrades have dumped me this time… ahem…. I mean even the shiv-sainiks have softened their stand on the ‘issue’. It was only this morning that I saw a news report telling that the sena run Kirti College in dadra is not averse to the idea of joining in the celebrations anymore. Depressing stuff. Heard a sena adyaksh say something you’d be surprised to hear… something about lesser dharnas n processions this year. RJs continue to be on a roll, still doling out prizes with undying fervor… gym time has suddenly lost all charm.
Standard reaction 7: (Un)comfortably numb…

14th Feb:
Need I tell how it’s like?!?!?

PART II
Trying-very-hard-not-to-sound-sermonizing
When I was a kid, the scale of celebrations was much smaller. People felt no need to hire limousines or buy diamond rings to woo their dates/spouses. Ways of expressing love were more personal, less flashy and way cheaper! No… I’m not 60 or over-conservative or a wet blanket, for that matter. I’m young, ultra-modern and extremely liberal. I have nothing against Valentine’s Day in particular… nothing so long as the celebrations are confined to one day and one day only. Agreed that true love needs expression and allocating a particular day to do so is not a sin. So far so good. What irks me is the lack of consideration on part of the moneymaking scoundrels who know nothing better than throwing offers and reaping benefits out of the whole situation. Why load people with v-day talks everywhere, every second of the day, for one whole week before the big day?? It gets a little over-whelming and seems kind of ridiculous at times. And if it’s all about love… what about mother and father’s days that often go unnoticed? In all respect… not fair. I don’t mean to demean the whole concept of celebrating Valentine’s Day… infact far from that… all I want to state is that the whole hype and hoopla makes little sense to me. Hold hands, kiss and get cozy, rock each others worlds… alright… but pleaseeee tone down on the celebrations front a little! The amount of moolah spent is not always proportional to how much you love your companion. Things that really mean a lot don’t always come in boxes…

All my arguments aside… I do believe that the expression of love is the headiest feeling on the whole planet. Go ahead, enjoy the day… but go easy with the festivities before/after the day is over. We have a whole assortment of other festivals to look forward to!

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A few good things:
YES, a few things have been keeping my mood really light of late… take a look:

1) The government IS making a serious effort towards polio eradication… a polio drops table at the entrance of the patel chowk metro station. Strategically placed… very impressive!




2) An airtel scheme especially for d.u. students… the tariff plan is really economical!


3) The rains! Potholes (hallmark of the place where I live!), wet roads, dark clouds, biting cold, thunderstorms, heavy showers… all the makings of a place called ‘heaven’. A welcome respite for the rain starved Delhi.



4) This amazing t-shirt that I saw at out university centers ‘peoples tree’ outlet.



Ad nauseam! Long post… but still got a lot more to write about. If time permits… the mill will churn out another post very soon.
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After-thought: If you’ve read this far… I deduce you don’t have the attention span of a three year old and are capable of putting up with stuff that you might not necessarily agree with or that which can be loosely categorized as ‘purely random, arbit and unorganized’. All I want to say to you guys is… keep visiting :)








25

Love, demystified…

Posted by Yashika Totlani Khanna on 8:58 AM in , ,
The most complex of all emotions, the most prevalent of all feelings… this is an attempt at demystifying the most convoluted inscrutability surrounding mankind… this is love, simplified…

Oxford English Dictionary defines love as “an intense feeling of deep affection.” Look around you and you see a major portion of the people snowed under what I call ‘the crowning glory of our short expedition on planet earth’. To reduce the ambit of love to lover’s or spouse’s love would be like doing injustice to its wide and varied scope and coverage. A quick glance and we see love all around--- lover’s love, spouse’s love, parent’s love, friend’s love, family’s love, love in the nature of narcissism, love with a pet, love commercialized on TV and in movies, love with books or one’s job or basically things/places/professions in general, love at first sight, et al. The possibilities are inexhaustible and the list is endless.

Cupid can strike at any time and what’s worse… one loses all control as soon as love comes calling. They say all emotions can be modulated, all except love. When falling in love for the first time, one feels things he’s never felt before. When falling in love all over again, one learns to appreciate things in a different way. Love is all about feeling affection and passion for someone/something, getting a feeling of acceptance… and it almost always involves a lot of thinking and some serious contemplation.

Now we unknowingly use the term ‘falling in love’(I just did!) without giving much thought to what it actually means- ‘falling’ in love. True… some ‘fall’ in love and later pay the price for doing so. Whom are we talking about here? Jilted lovers, divorced couples, wasted individuals, etcetera. BUT lets change the term a little, and I take the liberty of modifying it to ‘rising in love’. Yes, this sounds more positive and is surely more apt. History is redundant with examples of people achieving big because of possessing what we crave for the most- love. It bestows on us a feeling of completeness, sanguinity, and complacence. Sometimes it takes us to a different plane altogether. Often used as a synonym of obsession, attachment, infatuation and even crushes… we can be flexible enough and let it be confused with all these things because life is not always about watertight compartments. Take a bird’s eye view and we see everything is intermingled and interconnected.

Come Valentine’s Day and we see tiny red hearts and roses ALL around… in shops, on TV, on cards, in the newspapers and on the roads as well. The celebrations are notched up a tad higher each year and V day is now a million dollar industry for the people who were sane and sensible enough to cash in on this growing ‘trend’ at the right time (read: archies). Infact new runners in this rat race are also catching up fast and easy by offering more innovative ways of expressing love. Now, I am no shiv saini or anything… but sometimes the whole hoopla makes you wonder how much bigger will this get? I mean all the money spent on going out, messaging and buying cards and gifts can be put to better use. For the people who say it is the day to celebrate love--- why just confine the celebrations to one day?? Isn’t it an ongoing process?

Probably the only pitfall of the whole phenomena is the amount of effort that goes into falling ‘out’ of love. It takes immeasurable amounts of resistance, restrain, anger and frustration to get over that one object of affection. Love in its worst form takes the form of obsession. Sometimes life’s get ruined, people lose their ability to fall in love again, get wasted, need a counselor, eat themselves silly and shop like a maniac… while in other more solemn cases, they fail miserably at the ‘falling out’ bit altogether. But they say there is always a silver lining to every cloud. This cloud is no different. Agreed that some times it all seems very ugly… but at other times, falling out of love proves to be a bittersweet journey to redemption and self-realization. Love is capable of teaching a thousand lessons at one go… imparting the knowledge of a million books all at once… quite capable of transforming a crazy and impractical lover into a sagacious saint.

The movie industry is probably the one domain that has capitalized the most on the widespread predominance of this emotion. Since times immemorial, the moviemakers have cashed in by showcasing the different facets of love on the silver screen. Almost every movie ever made has got love to flaunt somewhere or the other. In most Indian movies, love is often the underlying base of the whole plot… the whole story is centered on the meeting/non-meeting of the two lovers. Garnish this with some running around the trees, a few songs, some foreign locales, extravagant clothing and jewellery, a few thrills… and you have all the makings of a big box-office blockbuster. This is the formula that big movie directors like Karan Johar and Yash Chopra have exploited and earned millions on. Now I’m deviating from course and will stop talking about the cinema, mainly because the ‘movie-matra’ deserves a separate post altogether.

But keeping in tune with the topic, I recently watched the movie ‘shall we dance’ and made a mental note of Susan Sarandon’s immortal lines that go like---
“We all need a witness to our lives. There are a billion people on this planet. What does anyone’s life really means? But in love, you are promising to care about everything… the good things, the bad things, the terrible things and the mundane things. All of it, all the time, everyday. You’re saying ‘your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it… your life will not go unwitnessed because I will be your witness.’ You can call me a nut if you like!”
--- That pretty much sums up the essence of what we call love. Although here, she’s being specific about lover’s/spouse’s love. But in reality, as I’ve pointed out earlier, love encompasses a lot more than just that... though the degree of intensity might differ greatly. People fall in love with a plethora of other things. Some are in love with themselves (narcissists); some fall in love with physical and tangible things- their cars, books, material possessions; some love their jobs, or their lives; some feel deeply attached to their parents, siblings and family. Love can assume different forms but the whole discussion boils down to one simple conclusion--- love it or hate it… sooner or later, it is bound to happen to everybody. And when the time comes, I suggest you sit back and enjoy the ‘heady’ ride (with a pinch of salt every now and then!) :)

18

Of Christmas, Carols and Santa…

Posted by Yashika Totlani Khanna on 12:15 PM in ,


First things first, and this is for the regulars, I have been keeping a little busy people… hence the dearth of posts in the past few weeks. The next 2-3 weeks are going to be no different with my exams coming and all, but I’ll try to stay as regular as possible.

Now for the actual post:

25th December 2006:
* Scene 1- My cozy bedroom *
12:00am: I’m enjoying a still night when suddenly…* buzz * --- my phone buzzes to break the silence. It’s a message from a friend wishing me merry Christmas. In the festive spirit, I reply back with a cherry message and good wishes. Things are calm again and now I’m trying to concentrate on work, when I’m shook up by another * buzz * --- one more friend wishing me Christmas. I reply back to this one as well. Concentrate… concentrate… but * buzzes ** rings * --- I’m startled many times over… more good wishes and season greetings are exchanged… and this goes on for one whole hour.

* Scene shift – Connaught Place market, Central Delhi *
3:00pm: The winter vacations have just started and I’m out catching up with a dear one in cp. An awesome music show and a brief session of sifting through Oxford Bookstore later, we are out on the streets looking for a present for my younger brother. He suggests a swiss army knife and we find ourselves looking for a shop that would sell one. One quick glance and you realize that the market scene is quite interesting here: shop windows painted by/covered in oodles of red and white, christmas sale everywhere, fake santas out on the streets giving away sweets to kids, crowds supposedly ‘enjoying the festival’, christmas decorations coupled with small vendors selling red and white balloons. “Marketing gimmick”, is what he calls it all. I’m having second thoughts. I bump into classmates and upon asking what they were doing there… I get a “celebrating christmas!” out of them. I smirk and walk on.

*Scene shift – Today *
So what makes me blog about the whole thing?? Nothing major… this post is just a result of serious distaste, grave revulsion and grim disgust. Whoa! Why all these things?? Well for one, and I want to make it very clear that I have nothing against christmas whatsoever, when did the majority of our population turn catholic?? Second, if the statistics do support my argument, why are we celebrating the festival with such gaudy pomp?? Why the midnight wishes and christmas sale on the streets? In hope of reaching a satisfying answer, I make a few observations. Maybe the western culture/influence is fast catching up with us and is here to stay. Or maybe we are just a bunch of jovial, enthusiastic people looking for a reason to celebrate. Maybe a drop of the hat is a big enough reason for us to get together and commemorate.

PS. I had to go out the same day cause I was leaving town the next morning.
PPS. No, my intention is NOT to hurt the sentiments of any section/strata of the society. These are just my independent views and may be supported or neglected by some.
PPPS. I’m prissy and I know it.
PPPPS. My astonishment notwithstanding, I had a great day… all thanks to a highly ‘receptive’ company :)


14

"Dilli Bandh"... life comes to a standstill

Posted by Yashika Totlani Khanna on 3:02 PM in , ,

VIGNETTE: Description of an awfully tragic morning: Being late for college and taking an auto in an attempt to make it on time. Riding in what proves out to be a ‘death-auto’ for 13 long minutes. Frantically running all the way to the class only to enter a half-empty space and finding out that all the classes have been called off. Thinking of still utilizing the time by getting some pending work done at the other end of Delhi. Going to the metro station in hope of speeding things up and finding out that the damned metro services from the university station have been curtailed for the day due to some dharnas. Realizing that there is no other way to get to ‘the other end’. Returning home dejected. Thinking of digging your teeth into your favorite cookie, awesome stress-buster, but finding your neighborhood grocer's shop closed.

* Curtains drawn *

Yeah, that was a brief prelude to the kind of morning I had today. Though I woke up at 6 a.m., I still managed to get late for college (a feat only I can achieve!) and decided to squander a few bucks on an auto (which spells ‘luxury’ in student’s circles here) in a desperate attempt to reach the class on time. I had an economics class and the teacher was pretty strict when it came to giving out attendance to ‘late-comers’. So I asked the auto-wallah to speed up… and big surprise: he turned out to be a maverick brave-heart! Maybe he saw this as an opportunity to display ALL his stocked up driving skills (and stunts!) and rode REAL fast…so fast that I had to hold on to my seat to stay in place! Thankfully a few narrow escapes and missed accidents later… I finally reached the college in time (with white knuckles, ofcourse!). I rushed to the class only to find out that all the classes had been called off (yes, including the eco class) cause most of the teachers hadn’t been able to make it to college due to traffic-jams that had become commonplace today. Frustrated and dejected, I decided to utilize the day anyway and thought of getting some work done at ICSI, prasad nagar. So I strolled to the university metro station, patting myself on the back, but what I saw there was no less than adding insult to injury. I saw reporters from NDTV, and other blah blah blah channels, interviewing people; asking them how the ‘closed’ metro line had “affected/hit their schedule”. Taken aback, I eventually gathered that the Delhi University-Kashmere Gate, 4 kms underground metro stretch, had been closed as a precautionary measure (because the traders had decided to gherao the delhi assembly which fell midway on the route) till further notice. For a brief moment I actually contemplated going and whacking the NDTV reporter on the head (I don’t know why though, it wasn’t her fault!) who was interviewing a univ mate as to how he felt about the whole ‘metro line abruptly closing down’ thing. Instead, I walked away from the scene and cribbed in quite murmurs to myself and cursed lady luck for having abandoned me on the very first day of the week-Monday (which is quite unpopular anyway… cause of its ‘inherent quality/ability/trait’ of yanking people out of weekends and throwing them into the tiring hustle-bustle of daily life).

So seeing all my hopes of making some good of the day falling flat on their face, I started back home. Saw truckloads of people being ferried to the assembly… they shouted slogans against the MCD sealing drive… resolute anger and determination marked their faces. All this; while me, dejected beyond measure, tried thinking about the good things in life… but all that plagued my mind were sad thoughts and gloomy tales.

Blink! Hang on… it can’t be all that bad! I just needed to think like an optimist and try to find out the silver lining to this cloud. Hmmm… now what good can this bring? Oh, ofcourse! This was an awesome opportunity for me to snuggle up in my sheets at home, with a nice book in my hand (bought ‘memoirs of a geisha’ yesterday) and dig my teeth into my favorite cookie! Wow! Why hadn’t I thought of this before?!? So with a newfound spring in my steps, I hop along the way to my neighborhood grocer to get a packet of the heavenly cookies, with gleamy stars in my eyes leading the way. Could hardly wait to execute my brilliant plan for the afternoon! But then it happened… lady ‘bad luck’ couldn’t have been crueler… I see (and suddenly remember it was a ‘traders’ strike… and the grocer was no exception) that the shop’s shutter was down with two heavy locks securely holding it in place. And then one more realization, which can safely be called the ‘cherry on the cake’, dawned on me- the strike was going to go on for three days… till the 1st of November…

* Curtains fall *

EPILOGUE: Ok, now I officially put an end to all the cribbing and tell you what I finally did:
I went back home, switched on my computer, and typed the whole ordeal down as a blog entry ;)

P.S. 1: Blogosphere is an awesome place to vent out your anger.
P.S. 2: The above pics was taken first hand while returning back home.
P.S. 3: NO, I haven’t exaggerated anywhere in the post.
P.S. 4: Desperately hope that the coming two days of the bandh prove better.
P.S. 5: Delhi seems paralysed!

143

Dedicated to mom and dad… blood is surely thicker than water.

Posted by Yashika Totlani Khanna on 5:28 PM in , ,
“God couldn’t be there with every child, so he created parents…”

Sitting alone in my room this late into the night leaves in reminiscing about the days gone by. Ma and dad, I can’t even begin to describe how much you mean to me.

My dad lost his mom, my grandma, when he was just 2 years old. So a childhood without a mom’s protective cocoon taught him what takes others no less than an entire lifetime to learn. Though his dad, grandpa, loved him more than any father could ever love his son… the lack of motherly affection (that only and only a mom can afford to give) left a never satiable longing for ‘mother’s love’. To worsen things, we lived in a joint family and dad spent his early days looking onto mothers who woke up their kids from slumber only to make them drink yet another glass of milk, while dad spent days without even tasting a single drop of the white liquid (grandpa was too busy with business… was the sole caretaker.). Now, an obvious aftermath of a tough childhood was that pa vowed to make the life of his children ultra-comfortable and full of love. Now as his offspring, I can proudly confer the title of the ‘World’s Best Dad’ on him (yeah, yeah. you must be thinking that every kid says that and it’s a quotidian notion, but really, my paterfamilias is different.). A few things that I miss about him after having shifted to Delhi are-

  • Driving me all the way to the school before an exam, while I tried mugging a few more facts on the seat alongside his in the car.
  • Comforting me after each of our quarrels, even when I was usually the one at fault.
  • Our post-midnight discussions on anything ranging from my school problems, to debating, to business issues, to politics, to tuitions, to family, to friends… he was my best pal!
  • His high b.p. when I used to drive his car while he sat nervously on the passenger seat, tightly clutching the dashboard with white knuckles!
  • Our importunate phone-addiction… calling him at work for trifle matters. It might have irked it at times, but he never showed.
  • His short-temper! Thanks to that, the world seems like a calm place, and people easy to handle! Cause handling him was the toughest! Also, he has unmistakably passed on his short fuse to me, in my genes ;)
  • The sudden softening of his expressions during an argument when he saw the slightest hint of hurt in my eyes.
  • His foregoing personal comforts to make sure we siblings had a comfortable childhood.
  • His priceless advice on anything under the sun!
  • His wisdom and grace and eloquence and erudition… do more men like him exist???
  • The glint of tears in his eyes when I was leaving for the US of A / packing for my 3 year stay in Delhi.
  • The pride in his eyes when I used to tell in that I topped in so and so subject / class.
  • His constant encouragement and those pep talks…
  • His fair and unbiased ways.
  • Our lovely Sunday family evenings.
  • His pats on my back.
  • His half-hour long prayers at amer-fort, while I just stood there waiting for him to get over.
  • His political acumen! From questions like ‘Dad, what’s the whole deal with Narendra Modi and the Gujarat riots?’ at lunch to ‘Which party do you think is better for India and why: BJP or Congress?’ over dinner… I miss those times!
  • Our shared laughs over ‘The great Indian laughter challenge’!
  • And most of all, I miss how ‘I’ felt around him… protected and special…
Truly a man blessed with a heart of gold. And interestingly, I’ve learnt one more fact about him in the past one year that I spent away from him- He can give VERY explicit instructions! Sample this-

Dad: Bitiya, independence day is inching closer. You try and stay indoors as much as possible.
Me: I know dad, I know. I’m not a small baby you see, I’m 19 now.
Dad: Beta no matter how old you get, you’ll always be my small daughter to me and I’ll keep guiding you, whether you like it or not.
Me: I know dad. But I can take care of myself now.
Dad: Listen, and this is an order, I want you to stay indoors till the 15th. No outings, no movies, no friends. If the need be, at the most you can go to your college. And then later straight back home. Avoid all public places like theatres, multiplexes, the metro station, etc……...yadda yadda yadda…

…………… you get the idea!
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So this is my dad… Now a little something about mom.

As a child I always thought that my mom was the prettiest lady on the face of this planet! With her white (nearly!) skin, perfectly arched eyebrows, hourglass figure, long lustrous hair and all. But soon I realized that she was much much much more than just being pulchritudinous (did I add sufficient number of ‘much’s??). The early memories of my life are sprinkled memories of her nursing me, cooking all sorts of cuisines for us so we never had to eat out, smiling warmly at my achievements, scolding me for my misdeeds (at times! not that I gave her much reason to complain!), waking me up in the morning for school (everyday for 12 long years!), teaching me social science and the dreaded math, etc etc etc.

Now a few things I miss about her:

  • Her waking me up in the morning! No matter how hard the alarms try, they never manage to wake me up! (courtesy: the snooze button! I keep pressing it without even realizing!)
  • Her delicious food! All other food in this world sucks! Well, not all… but a great part of it!
  • Her soothing words which never failed to ease my frayed nerves.
  • Her calls for truces while dad and I fought away in the living room, screaming at the top of our lungs!
  • Her constant efforts to make room for my umpteen books… space always fell short! Now my books are all piled up in a mould in my room here in Delhi!
  • Our fun ‘Miss Universe / World Contest on t.v.’ evenings!
  • Our melodramatic fights (if any! we rarely fought.).
  • Her insights into anything and everything!
  • Her incessant insistence that I consumed all 3 meals in a day, and that too with atleast two glasses of milk! Gluttony!
  • Her hot coffee on exam days to keep me awake through the night.
  • Her famous dal makhani, rajma and pasta! (I know I have talked about food earlier, but it’s just that these three items deserved a special mention!).
  • Her helping me with my packing (and the unpacking bit too!)! Now a task that took me 15 minutes earlier, with her around, eats up 2 whole hours!
  • Her advice on what would look good on me while buying clothes.
  • Our girlie talks and the saloon trips!
  • ‘Bad-people’ bashing! (confused? i intended so!)
  • Her tantrums on seeing me on the phone for too long! (but now I see it was for my own good!)
  • How she made sure that my brothers didn’t pester me with the loud idiot-box noises during my exams! (Bhais’! Nothing against you! I was childish and immature! Infact another post in the pipeline especially dedicated to you two!)
  • Our twaddles in the kitchen, while she cooked & I sat and talked.
  • Her supportive attitude.
  • Her optimism!
  • Her smiley demeanor and light moods.
  • Her reassuring smile.
  • Our evening walks to loose weight! (mom, please don’t kill me for putting this up here!)
  • Her habit of spending all the money at hand buying things for us three, while she came home without even a single addition to her wardrobe or assets. Selflessness at its primary best!
  • Her check-ins into my room on seeing my lights on late at night, to take the book from my hand and put it on the side table and cover me with a blanket.
  • Her persistent ‘learn to cook!’ nagging.
  • Her unconditional love.
  • Her oiling my mane and braiding my pigtail till until a few years back.
  • Our chole-dal-poori breakfasts.
  • Her occasional fits of anger that instantly drove her point home.
  • Dressing ‘up’ for family occasions.
  • Her de-motivation tactics to keep me away from junk food, and then later showing up with two large take-away bags of McDonalds that exude delectable aromas!
And many other things that are implied for any mom! Just wanna say… mom you are special and beyond compare!

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Ahh…folks, I miss our times together! But hey, as always there is a brighter side to things, my missing you two made me write this post! Would have never said these things on your face! Also, I’m finally getting to face the world on my own… which makes me appreciate the fact even more that you guys have actually done A LOT for me. Now folks, sit back, relax and let your penumbra (read: daughter) prove herself to you!

P.S. My adorable brothers, I reiterate the fact that you two will also see a post dedicated to you soon.


5

Solitude vs Loneliness

Posted by Yashika Totlani Khanna on 6:28 PM in ,
Solitude, by far, is a more ‘positive’ term than loneliness. Having gone through both these spells, I think I can do a pretty accurate analysis of the expressions for the good of others.A sententious overview:

‘Solitude’ refers to the state of being alone and the capacity to still enjoy the (intentional) lack of company.

‘Loneliness’ refers to a sad state which is a byproduct of dearth of friends or company.

Solitude is locking yourself in your room just to get away from the world and spend some quality time with yourself; to contemplate; to think; to realize what needs to be realized; to reconsider; to rejuvenate; to heal oneself. It’s almost always a result of personal whims. When does one feel the need for some solitude? After a break-up; a failure; before making an important decision; after a traumatic experience; a loners world… the reasons are umpteen and the list is endless.

Loneliness, on the contrary, is something that’s forced down our throats. An importunate condition, a gall issue. We never decide to be lonely ourselves… circumstances make that decision for us. Loneliness, in its worst form, leads to drastic changes in a person’s life, attitude and outlook. But in milder forms, it can have temporary repercussions that are usually forgotten overtime. What leads to loneliness? A bad temperament, failure, bile, a calamity, or basically any other thing that repels people away from us. Temporary repercussions? Lower levels of self worth and self-esteem, excessive drinking and smoking. Simple remedies: A good jog, a new hobby, blind idiot box worship, shopping spree, internet surfing, sex, binge eating and a positive attitude. All this and presto! We’re back to normalcy in no time!

P.S. Smell fresh wounds? Dont get any ideas... this is just another addition in my already long list of spontaneous posts!

7

Creativity marred!

Posted by Yashika Totlani Khanna on 10:18 AM in ,
Hi all! Now this post comes almost a month after my previous post… so I presume you all must be wondering where I have been. So this ‘comeback’ post should be an answer to all your queries…

The past month was hectic… actually on second thoughts, ‘hectic’ would be an understatement (and I read somewhere that second thoughts usually make more sense than the first breeze of thoughts that cross our minds. But that’s a different story altogether and I’ll elaborate on that in my forthcoming posts!). Let me give you a sneak-peak into what I have been up to this past month: a rude reminder that holiday season is not eternal (sigh!), frantic packing, addition of crazy nomadic overtones to my persona, loads of traveling, I-miss-my-folks blues, crazy timings, sudden lifestyle changes, the inclusion of a morning walk into this lazy bum’s schedule and BAM, I open my eyes to a different life. How I miss those lazy mornings and worthless days (read: holidays)!

Now for the title of my post: creativity marred. This is a strange phenomena and I’m going to explain it with a series of questions (that would later suffice as the answer): Has a task ever intrigued you so immensely that you find yourself thinking about it quite often, infact so often that it would successfully give your lover a complex?!!? Have you ever experienced the sheer joy that’s derived every time you do this task? Have you ever felt that you’ve finally found something you love to do and would continue doing in the near future? And then have you are being suddenly pulled out of your normal course of life and forced to attune yourself to the changing times? And lastly, have you ever found yourself feeling like an amateur again when you finally sit down to do the task you were so proficient at doing earlier?

This is precisely what happened with me. I had fallen in love with blogging and was always brimming with ideas that would go on to make my next post… was always raring to pen down my views about everything under the sun and post it for the world to see. Then suddenly holiday season came to a halt and I had to take a detour to my crazy life. The metamorphosis took its toll on my zeal to write and I lost all interest in blogging. So yesterday when I sat down to write, my mind went blank and the incessant tick-tick-tick of my clock was the sole thought that clouded my brain. Kept mulling over what to write and finally after an hour, gave up on the idea. Then today I decided to give it another shot but again couldn’t think of anything concrete, so just decided to share what I have been going through. Now as I write this, I realize that I’ve finally managed to incorporate the changes well (that a life in the fast lane forces down your throat!) and am once again my organized self (an excellent time-manager FYI! Sorry if the immodesty irks!). Normalcy seems to be the perfect antidote to the damage done to my creativity! New ideas are already pouring into my mind, like a gush of water from a broken dam.

Take 1:
It’s a beautiful day,
The sun is on its way,
I feel the wind in my hair!
“Oh what a brilliant time to live life!”
Take 2:
It’s a beautiful day to soak up the sun!
Let’s get out there and have some fun!
These lines were inspired by t.v. commercials (let’s see if you can guess which ones!) and yeah, I know they doesn’t make much poetic sense, but I love them! So the dam is down, which means plenty of posts coming your way people… hold thy breath!

7

The most unusual award recipient DU has ever seen... ME! Nostalgia!

Posted by Yashika Totlani Khanna on 2:14 AM in , ,

So this is another brief flash of motivation that has got me writing (despite my incessant instructions to myself to complete the more important jobs at hand…like finishing up the book that I’m currently reading!). Another habit that seems to have set in is that now I usually write when the world is sweetly tugged away in their blankets…deep in slumber…i.e. at night…usually after midnight. Night offers what I crave for the most…solitude! Stillness instills peace.

Anyway, coming back to what I’ve thought of writing about today… Allow me to take you back in time (actually a trip down memory lane for me!)… the day is the 1st of March 2006, 9:30 in the morning. Delhi was regaining normalcy after an unusually long cold-spell…and people were once again out on the streets (not that they had ever mastered the art of staying indoors or anything!), enjoying the bright sun that now finally allowed them the luxury of shedding off their woolens! I was comfortably tugged in my sheets… sitting in front of the T.V…. with a cup of coffee and the morning’s newspaper… in my most casual attire… assuming that college was off today on account of some valedictory function… waiting patiently for the Finance Minister P. Chidambaram to come and announce the annual budget for FY2006. Now the newspaper told me that the ‘Government Of India’ had released the ‘Economic Survey Report 2005-2006’ and impatient as I can be, I got up to go to my colony’s ‘paperwallah’ to get myself a copy of the same. Now it just so happened that as I was getting up, my phone buzzed (only to startle me out of my wits!). It was a class-mate of mine informing me that today was the ‘NSS Valedictory Function’ and I was receiving a certificate for my services to the ‘National Service Scheme’… and also that I was already very late! Whoa… my dreams of a quite, peaceful morning came crashing down (much to my dismay) as I jumped out of bed, picked up my cell-phone + wallet and rushed to the college (without giving much thought to what I was wearing or how I looked… alas!). I also made it a point to stop by the ‘paperwallah’ to buy the copy of the survey. On my entire way to the college, I kept fretting about whether I’ll make it on time or not, but thankfully I stay only about 15 minutes away from the university…and did manage to reach there by 10 a.m.

I quietly entered the seminar hall and silently took a seat by my class-mate who had called earlier. Now it was only after she pointed out that I noticed how I looked…. I was wearing a scruffy black T-shirt (that didn’t really scream out ‘elegant get-up’) teemed up with my oh-so-casual grey pajamas… a copy of ‘The Economic Survey’ in my hand… with nothing but bathroom-slippers to cover my feet… and to make matters worse, I donned a shiny, oiled mane (don’t blame me… I’d intended washing my hair after the budget speech by the FM… which I anyway missed later!). My class-mate was a little taken aback on seeing me dressed so inappropriately for an award function and was about to ask me the reason for the same (cause it isn’t commonplace to find the sophisticated me in such a horrendous get-up, and that too on such an occasion!) but bit her tongue when I told her I wasn’t quite aware of this ‘suddenly-popped-out-of-nowhere’ function. Now they started announcing the names of the recipients of the certificates… Rohini Mittal… Akanksha Bannerjee… blah blah blah… and then finally the dreaded YASHIKA TOTLANI. Now I stood up, vowed not to make a fool of myself on stage, and confidently walked down the aisle with my head 60 degrees from the ground (till date I wonder how I managed to do that!). Our vice-principal Dr. Indu was handing out the awards and after a head-to-toe analysis of me, she finally managed to force a smile on her face (for the photograph ofcourse!) and handed me the certificate…CLICK… a click by the photographer… a ‘very’ bright flash, while I shamelessly flaunted my teeth… followed by a round of applause… and I’m off the stage! When I finally reached my seat… I looked up only to see our NSS convener Ms. Usha Singh (a lovely lady, by the way) staring at me in disbelief with her mouth slightly open and a quizzical ‘what-were-you-thinking?’ look in her eyes. I avoided her gaze and was one of the first ones to leave the seminar hall after the function got over (a run-away success, if you must know!).

Now this weird sequence of events didn’t stop me from enjoying a round of tea and samosas that followed the function (with the economic survey still tugged tightly under my arm) and I left the college with a smile on my face and a glint of naughtiness in my eyes! I’d actually pulled this off! A feat that about an hour ago seemed almost impossible to achieve! So to cut a long story short, I would conclude by pointing out that today I would surely qualify to be called ‘The most unusual award recipient DU has ever seen’ in it’s over a century long history!

Moral of the story: The student fraternity at DU can pull off almost anything coupled with a little self-confidence and grace. To substantiate my point… I would like to bring your to your attention the fact that not even a single student bothered raising an eyebrow on seeing my casual attire… Maybe they simple dismissed me as another case of a student not trying to disguise her true self under pretentious garments. Kudos to you guys… you rock!

Epilogue: Today I hold that historic photograph in my hand (my hair shine even brighter here… damn that bright flash! And the look on my face is worth a million bucks… futile attempt to suppress that naughty grin!) and feel my eyes moisten up with the memories of this and many other such incidents that, I believe, make one’s college experience all the more enriching and fulfilling. Masti ki paathshala…

Note to self: I notice my posts are getting longer with each passing day… have to be careful about not going ‘over-board’.


2

The Day of Umpteen Reflections

Posted by Yashika Totlani Khanna on 3:48 AM in
It’s 3:30 at night and I cannot put myself to sleep. Insomniac you will say? Not quite. This seems like an obvious after-effect of a very eventful day. Eventful? Yeah. Let me elaborate…

The day started with a phone call to a very dear friend who had been out of touch for quite a while now (yeah Neha, I’m talking about you hon!). And soon after I hung up, I found myself reflecting over an often-ignored (deliberately?) fact of life: in this fast paced life of ours, we often overlook the unmatched pleasures that the small joys of life can afford us. This seemed like one such joy! A hearty conversation with an old friend the first thing in the morning…..heaven! Better than starting your day with a cup of hot, steaming coffee and a newspaper in your hand (and headlines that read as: “Indian companies dominate the Forbes 500!” Hahaha…gotta get a grip on this wild imagination of mine…no holds barred…hahaha! My fascination with the corporate sector manages to creep into my text as well these days!)

The day proceeded in it’s normal fashion…giving no clues of what lay ahead of me. The lull before a storm? Surely! (Wait…‘storm’…an overstatement maybe!) Now the news that made this day stand out of the bunch came in the evening. I got to know that I’d made it to the admission list of the exam I’d appeared for about a week back, en route my quest for admission to a premier institute. Now this made my day because I’d assumed the odds to be against me…it was a classic case of 913 candidates fighting it out for just 17 seats. And the fact that I’d made the cut gave me a sense of elation!

Now what followed was a series of phone-calls to my near and dear ones. Under normal circumstances you’d assume this was a measure to spread the joy. But my case was different. I was calling them up to seek advice…. advice regarding whether to join the course or not! Crazy you’d say…but whoever said I was predictable and sane 24x7???

Now this exercise of seeking advice threw new light on the character traits of these beloved people, precisely the reason that etched this day onto my memory. Some came out as surprisingly brilliant career councellors, while others as pyramids of laughing goo! Some proved their worth as a confidant, and others shared their inside views with commendable frankness. (The people referred to here are very much aware of whom I’m talking about! So no more explanation on this front!) Now after hours of catching up on the phone, I hung up with a grin on my face. At around half past midnight, I found myself in a very reflective mood again, amidst the solitude of my room. I was reflecting about the days gone by, the days that can now safely be called the foundations of these strong bonds I cherish so fondly today. I was reflecting about the times spent with these precious individuals, each of whom is special in their very own way. From the days of carefree ignorance…to the days where I felt a need for some serious self-actualization; these people have stuck by me through thick and thin. Today I express my gratitude towards all of them for standing by my side when I most needed them! I wanna thank them for their unrivalled contributions towards making me what I am today.

Wow…this has been more random than I thought it would be! Gotta wind up now cause if I don’t sleep right away, I’ll shortly witness the first rays of the sun filtering through my window coupled with the chirping of birds! If you’ve read this far, I assume you don’t possess the attention span of a three year old and are willing to read what I have to say! Read on and who knows, you might just end up learning a thing or two from my blogs!

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