Breaking through the shackles of Generation Gap.

'What we call a generation gap,  is basically a result of interaction gap'.

My Father is from the 50s, my Mother is from the 60s, I am from the 80s and my Sibling is from the 90s. As a family we are from the 21st century and grow with times, change with times and adapt with the times.

So, ladies and gentlemen, that's the story of my household, a close knit family of 4 where there has never been a generation gap.

I was born and schooled in a small town,  Agra. A small town has its own hassles of 'Small Town Thinking'  where anything breaking the trend is considered 'haw',  a raised eyebrow here, a grapevine gossip there. My parents did raise multiple eyebrows in their own individual lives. Father on his own terms went to London for higher education, Mother, quite to the dismay of the people around, continued her profession of being an Academician and completed her PhD whilst carrying the Sibling in her womb. She taught for 23 years and eventually joined the Father in the business. Parents have been quite 'the odds' in their own lives.

When it came to us, the Sibling and I, there were rules, which if forbade had repercussions involved. Mother did not spare the rod and spoil the child. Grades, extra curricular activities and discipline were critically important. Father bend the rules though. He has been an easy cookie. He has been the 'Santa' who never judged on 'Whether you have been good or not in the past year'. But one rule , both the parents followed to the tee was 'discussions' . For the longest time and even today, 'Let's discuss' is an internal joke in the family. Little did we realise that the 'Let's discuss' time unknowingly assimilated the thought process of 2 generation.

I was inappropriately touched as child. When I told my Mother about it, Mother beat the shit out of the offender and father next day itself made me join self defence classes. Not even once was I told to skip 'playing time' or refrain from going out in the dark. I was told to be careful not scared. I was educated by both the parents about good touch and bad touch.

When I reached puberty and started my period, my mother educated me about the female anatomy, the uterus, the period cycle and sanitary conditions. Period is called a Period in my family.

Decisions about careers has been an individual choice, administered by the Parents. They have stood by our choices but have not taken the brunt for our mistakes. College meant a stipulated pocket money and going beyond it was not even an option. The financial and social status of parents was not passed to us in legacy, it was to be earned.

So our upbringing was quite a contrast from the upper middle business class family. Reading, discussions and personality development were given importance which meant that missing  weddings, family get togethers etc. were acceptable.

But then, first I and then the Sibling left the nest, for college and then careers. We came back just for vacations and festivals. There was a gap in the thought process between the generations that we witnessed. At that point, there was a conscious decision that the Sibling and I took- that of of role reversal in responsibilities. It is true that the new generation can not digress back to the times of the older generation but it is the responsibility of the new generation to hold hands of the older generation and bring them, at their own pace, at par with the new generation.

So we started spending extending weekends with the parents, started introducing them to our lifestyles, to our choices, to our thought process. I am not saying that the alignment happened smoothly ; we were impatient and they were sometimes rigid. But my parents own inclination for reason and logic was a catalyst. They agreed to try new things, many a times it suited their being and sometimes it didn't. They loved staying in Airbnb Accommodation and Oyo Rooms, they are little nosy about Hostels. They are votaries of the new generation's addiction to experiences and not for materialistic possession (though their plants obsession and home decor collection still stands tall).

There have been few awkward moments as well. The parents insisted on seeing Game of Thrones. We persistently told them that they wouldn't like it but they were adamant. So GOT, Season 1, Episode 1. First 10 minutes into it and... 'What is this Pornography?' In the other instance,  Mother insisted on seeing a Rave whilst we were holidaying in Venice. It wasn't actually a Venice but had all the elements of a Rave. It was indeed hilarious how Mother tried to reason out with Stoners. So yeah, this alignment between the generations has been notorious as well.

But on a serious note, due to more interaction, each of our individual goals became family goals. We all club our energies together for their fulfilment. Each of our life dreams has a nod from each one of us and this multiples the energy by 4 for efforts put in. But all this comes with a caveat, of taking responsibility of our actions, of our choices.

Who decides anyway what makes to generation rules! Clinging to the age old beliefs and not making way for the new ways is not only detrimental to the family but to the nation. The new generation needs the experience of the older generation for making the most out of the new practices.

To Mumbai | From Delhi

May 02, 2016, Monday, 19.30 hours - I land in Mumbai to spend a month with my Sister. “Haanji” changing to “Kaye” and in disgust I squirted my snooty Delhi nose.

Mumbai unlike Delhi is not a pretty city to look at, infrastructure is a mess, buildings are dilapidated, green is scarce, roads are colloquial for pedestrian walks, heritage architecture is amiss, the demography doesn’t boast of the best ‘looks’ in the country. Then why is this city a home to many, a dream for more?

At 1ish in the night when my Starbucks addict Sister said, ‘let’s go for a coffee?’, I looked at her in bewilderment. In the rickshaw, at 1.30 am, 2 girls, wearing shorts, head to Hiranandani Complex, for a coffee. PCR though on my speed dial. On reaching Hiranandani, I was taken for a surprise. Being from Delhi, women, alone, wee hours in the night, dressed casually, gait even more casual, are a series of together-words I don’t relate to. In a very long time, I felt normal and shackles-less, as much as men in the country feel.

Using public transport has been my biggest learning lesson in Mumbai. They say you learn more from people than from paper. Well, true. The autowallahs have been extremely welcoming and not once did I catch anyone sneakily using the rear view mirror for the intrusive male gaze. It surprises me how money and means to money are so piously embedded in the food chain here. Change be it be Re 1 or Rs. 9 were always given, without any delay. Dignity of labour advocated and practiced.

Sitting, cross legged, wearing a dress, on Carter Road Promenade, I enjoyed the Bombay sunset and the calm ocean without worrying about whether my upper thighs were on display. It’s not the city is on a run and no one has time to sit and stare, it’s just that women anatomy is not an object of stare. Covering up myself with a stole while cabbing it and wearing a dress is a norm in Delhi but Mumbai….. Breasts, legs and buttocks are a part of the entire woman population in the country and hence ordinary- Kudos Mumbai for resonating this fact. Thank you, Mumbai for making me proud of my adornments, my womanhood, rather than being conscious of it and guarding it out of guilt.

Something that makes us very proud of Delhi is that the city looks ‘rich’. The slums are ‘sheltered’ and are not easily visible to the passerby. On the contrary, Bombay slums, chawls are in your face. Once I stayed in Bombay I understood the synergies. Acceptance! Acceptance of all the people, no matter where they come from and where they go, Mumbai is as much theirs as that of the aristocratic class’. What ‘shosha’ is to Delhi is ‘dream for one and all’ is to Mumbai.

You know the times that we live in where everything and everyone is taken with a pinch of salt and trust issues are an epidemic, Mumbai ‘Human’ is a little out of ordinary. When lost on the road (which is typical of me) and a car stopped by to help, I trusted. When a man approached to strike a casual conversation in a pub, I trusted. When the autowallah, at 11.30 pm, asked if he should take another route (which I wasn’t acquainted with) because Saki Naka was choc blocked, I trusted. And my leap of faith was not molested once.

There is another aspect about Bombay- of being non-judgemental. So when I saw a 60-year-old elderly woman taking swimming lessons with enthusiasm, a homosexual couple leaning against each other while watching the sun set on Marine Drive, television celebrities hitching an auto ride, a transgender enjoying cafe latte at Café Coffee Day with no inhibition, a small Deepika from the slums looking and smiling at Deepika Padukone’s hoarding thinking, ‘One Day’, I learnt that life is not barred by age, sex, class, bank balance. Life is a potpourri of emotions, experiences, dreams and learnings (from both success and failure). At the end, life is to be lived not suffered.

Uptill living in Mumbai, I thought only Punjab could boast of ‘Happy Cheerful People’. But Bombay, you are a city of happy emotions. Gleaming faces everywhere. Rage, cussing, honking- I hardly witnessed here. Not that struggles here are any less but somehow the calm of the ocean has rubbed on people. Even with worst episodes of trafucked, I did not witness the atrocious Delhi noise pollution. Howsoever, an average Mumbaikar is, whether living in pigeon holes or in sky rises, whether raving at fine dining or quenching the hunger with vada pav, whether partying at the high end clubs or enjoying a ‘bhutta’ on Bandstand, smiling is their adrenaline rush.

Yeah! So this is me. Delhi Girl who hated Bombay during her flying visits but one month of staying here and this city has grown on me. Grown to the extent that I don’t wish to go back. Made new friends, reconnected with old, introspected on my Delhi glutton, imbibed the Bombay ambition and simplicity. Though I still like to dress up, unlike the casual Bombay and love Hindi music instead of techno, but there is so much of Bombay that I shall take back.

Thank you, Bombay! For letting me experience the free bird escapades, for letting me to not be conscious of my woman body, for trusting the men specie when they acknowledge my presence, for helping me shun my prejudices and for letting me understand the power of dream and struggles.

With Love!

Best always.

'Fem' in 'FEMINISIM'

A quick search of ‘Feminism’ on Google reveals the following:

1.  Kim Kardashian- 'Will continue to click nude selfies', shows middle figure to the society, at the Emmy Awards in the wake of women liberation movement. .

2.  Urban Dictionary- Feminist is a psychotic hoe who is hungry for a dick but doesn't want to show it.

3.  House of Cards star Robin Wright went public on her demands for pay parity with her co- star Kevin Spacey.

4.  Of course I had free sex: How feminist Kavita Krishnan’s mom silenced a troll on Facebook.

5.  Delhi-Based Female Writer Shuts Down Body Shamers with Powerful Poetry.

India is a misogynistic country with a patriarchal set up which needs to be set right. Because Indian men are lecherous and do not respect female species at all. Hence, hard hitting pictures of menstruating girls, videos bearing social messages, bras and pink panties flung open on the roads, celebs and Bollywood stars (men, women and transgenders) propagating the message in their social space to drill some sense into the Indian system is LEGIT

I grew up in a nuclear family of 4, my Father and Mother and we two daughters. Birth of two daughters fulfilled my parents’ desire of ‘We two, Our Two’ and never did they contemplate the idea of having a third child for the possibility of a son. I went to a co-ed school where my teachers advocated friendship between boys and girls. Picking up law as my college degree, even when I had no law background and a flourishing family business in my legacy was appreciated and never debated. Periods, Waxing, Male Attraction and Women Anatomy are discussed in my environment with ease and without a meme. My parents have always been acquainted with my dating life and have never shamed it but have imposed restrictions if it caused me to compromise on my life goals. I am in my late twenties and am single but neither of my parents are frenzy over my ‘ageing’. They are rather supporting me in my career switch. I socialise, go clubbing, wear the kind of clothes I like and enjoy my alcohol. But this rosy picture has had its glorious moments of thorns as well. I was inappropriately touched and fondled as a child. My parents kicked the ass of the molester and made me learn a life lesson to never be a victim but a fighter. I was inappropriately stalked by a male senior at work. I made a hue and cry about it, made the stalker public. He lost his job and his name. I had a sexist for a boss who considered women counsels as adornments of client interaction only. I confronted him at every step. He despised me, I loved my womanhood more. I left my job with my head held high.

I AM THE ‘FEM’ IN THE FEMINIST. 
I AM A FEMINIST AND A VERY PROUD ONE.

theodysseyonline.com

Feminism is a range of political movements, ideologies, and social movements that share a common goal: to define, establish, and achieve equal political, economic, personal, and social rights for women. Nowhere does it embody men hatred and/or elevation of women to a pedestal of worship and idolism. It breathes Equality, Equality where women are positioned at the same level as men.

Feminism is not an alternative for nudity under the garb of liberalisation. How is flashing breasts/buttocks/vagina a step forward in women’s movement of equality? The whole hippy philosophy of being in sync with God’s creation is utter rubbish. Women are born with boobs, ass and vayjay, they grow with it and are absolutely aware about their functionality. And as far as men are concerned, they are more than okay with them. It’s the exhibition of the face only that they are to get accustomed with. The Kardashians can pop champagne bottles with their bum but that is not why an ass was given to us, right? You know what is right propagation of Feminism? When Julia Roberts on her first visit to Cannes Film Festival, decides to walk the red carpet barefoot, so as to raise the legitimate ‘middle finger’ to the stuffy, old male dominated whiners who run the Festival and had decreed last year that women had to wear high heels. – the pathetic sexist claptrap.  I am not belittling nudity as a form of protests, maybe I am too naïve to understand its importance but those protests come under the category of nudism and not feminism.  Feminism is when women from all caste, creed, colour and religion protest for a unified marriage law in India. Whilst some protest with burqas, some protest with a skirt and blouse.

‘My Choice’ which has no reason of sound logic, is another misunderstood territory of ‘Feminism’. Instead of talking about rape, female foeticide, domestic violence, harassment at workplace, pay gap, the intrusive male gaze or a million other issues that a woman has to deal with everyday, the rebellious answer to everything crazy as ‘My Choice’ is plain bizarre. Flaunting an anorexic body or an obese lifestyle is not an agenda for women liberation movement. Anorexia is as much a disease as obesity and needs attention. Adultery and/or having multiple sex partners is not Feminism. It is abusive and psychotic. Similarly having a progeny is not solely a woman’s choice. The egg fertilized because of a sperm. The donor of the sperm does have a legitimate say to the offspring. To copy the worst male stereotypes, leching, calling names, dominance of a gender, abuse relationships etc., and deciding that women need to do all that to come at par with men, is not Feminism. An eye for an eye makes the world blind and not a Feminist.

Another misconception about Feminism is being a Man-Hater, being a Misandrist. The term feminism is as much for men as it is for women. And inflicting pain to the entire men specie just because a few have a caged mind is atrocious. There is enough of place for you and me under the sun and my outcry about my place does not mean I need your spot. I need an opportunity to create mine. And just for the record Feminists do like men, emotionally, physically, sexually, it’s just that in most cases they prefer brain over brawn.

Any cultural norm to which men are not subjected to is considered a key result area of Feminism. I am a Punjabi and I like the chuda ceremony and might just wear it on daily basis post my marriage. It’s my choice. How does it subordinate me to my future husband? Similarly, fasting, keeping a karwachaudh, wearing sindoor or wearing a niqaab/hijab belittle women. It is a personal choice. I like it, it doesn’t barge into your happiness, how the fuck is it a problem then? Yes, if it is forced on me, then it is my movement of women liberty, it is my movement of Feminism. Feminism is creating a congenial home environment and closing a million-dollar deal at work place.

A bed of roses, with legal privileges and full authority to misuse them is not Feminism. It is being an Asshole. The Indian Judicial System has adorned women with far more privileges than men, which is legit and needed. However, if one misuses the privileges in the garb of plotted woman empowerment it is pathetic and lowly. 498(A) of Indian Penal Code is the favourite of all the vamps. Why? Because if my privileges of being a woman clash with reason and logic, I shall evoke my weapon of being a victim of Domestic Violence and charge my in laws and husband under 498(A). Feminism is not about eradicating the social structure altogether rather of sieving the vices from it.  

The aim of feminism is to ensure men and women are equal. That's the world I want. Not the one where my empowerment comes at the cost of pain to others. 

For me Feminism, is when:

Ø  When one witnesses one's domestic help gleaming bright and distributing 'ladoo' because his first time pregnant wife gave birth to a 'girl child'.

Ø  When a woman who is raped is not victimised by the society but supported to lead a normal life ahead.

Ø  When equal pay for equal work is applicable on both men and woman, at parity.

Ø  When education and career takes a front seat for a woman.

Ø  When marriage and child bearing is celebrated and not glutted down the throat of a woman.

Ø  When woman genital is not used as a colloquial word for idiot/dumb.

Fem in the Feminism is good cause for uplifting the society of its vices not for crashing the social structure altogether.

My One Million Daimoku Campaign

With Sensei’s mission for 2016 as ‘Year of Expansion in the new era of world-wide kosen rufu’, I started my 1 million Daimoku campaign. The expansion of kosen rufu is expansion of hope, capable individuals and peace. I had been battling career Karma for 8 months praying hard to get clarity on my kosen rufu job. I was sure that I am to only attract the best opportunity in my environment and just ordinary or an okay job won’t do. I am Sensei’s disciple. I am meant only for the best. With fresh start to the New Year, I was determined to fight like never before and win like never before. Indeed, I had to write my own Golden Story.

Sensei, has always stressed on the importance of specific goals and to make the struggle towards the goals as magnanimous a celebration as the victory of the goals. I plunged into gakkai activities to report complete Victory to Sensei by May 03 celebration meeting. I started increasing my daimoku on daily basis, chanting upto 5 hours a day when my life condition was low. Whilst, daimoku is an essential part of the Practice, the three pillars of Faith, Practice and Study are essentially important. I became regular with my study and have read and imbibed 15 Goshos uptill May 15th and wholeheartedly studied the study material prescribed for each campaign. The 7 guidelines of Sensei for the Year of Expansion-2016, became my holy grail. I consciously started to speak about the Practice to whosoever I met with the sole aiming of helping others seek true happiness by getting introduced to the Law. I was able to shakabuku 7 Youth Division Members and had dialogue about the Practice with more than 15 individuals. Whilst introducing new members is essential, nurturing the old is critical. I took the responsibility of the Youth Division in my District by making a clear target of home visiting all of them by March 16. Also, as our Discussion Meetings are the litmus test of our Practice, I took responsibility of being a proactive participant of the Discussion meeting and to encourage each member to celebrate the Meeting as if it’s their own. Whilst my YWDs started reporting Victories, my life remained stagnant. I would wonder, what was it that I was doing wrong. Even at these absolutely hellish times I never doubted the Ghonzon but my life condition touched the lowest world. At these times, instead of brooding and belittling myself, I sought Guidance from Senior Leaders and emerged fresh and jubilant as a daisy.

While opportunities started coming my way and I started getting clarity over my kosen rufu job, somehow something would emerge and no opportunity could be materialised. I further strengthened my Practice, doing the work of three and encouraging my members in their struggles. As Sensei says, ‘No matter what happened yesterday, a new day of fresh possibilities has dawned. You are not the same person as you were yesterday. Things are changing and you are moving towards your golden Victory’. Unknowingly, the golden wheel of Human Revolution started moving in my life. I have been away from home for last 10 years (first college and then job). And being away I comfortably nudged my responsibility as a daughter, of being an anchor in my parent’s life. Moving back with my parents gave me an opportunity of creating kosen rufu in our dwelling. I strengthened my Mother’s Practice and I am happy to report that I can see the same old vigour and charm in her. Also, my relationship with my father improved drastically and we are indeed a kosen rufu family now. My relationship with my Friends also went through a complete 180-degree change. Sensei says, ’We all need people around us who raise our standards and remind us of our essential purpose and challenge us to become the best version of ourselves.’ Whilst on 1 million Daimoku, I gauged the wisdom and strength to acknowledge some parasitic relationships that I had been nurturing. And mystically the day I got to know about these relationships is the day they took an exit from my life and I continued to strengthen the relationships which help me become a better person. The true victory of the Human Revolution was when my people in my environment started complementing on being a new me altogether. My mother, who is my biggest critique, complimented me on the change and how she has strengthened her Practice on seeing a change within me. I am happy to report that even with people who were doing wrong to me for no reason whatsoever, my life condition never dipped to slander both verbally and mentally about them. Somehow, even I was amazed as to why am I not thinking bad about them.

I had been given the Guidance time and again that this Karma has happened in my life for a reason and the time that I have got where I have no job obligations is the time where I should go all out to polish my mirror. I have always loved to write but with work timings never paid heed to my talent and interest. But with time in my hand, I started two blogs and started writing stories, stories of human tendencies and victories, stories that inspire, on daily basis. Mystically, these created a cascading effect of bringing in acclaim from the readers and happiness in me.

Whilst inconspicuous benefits were adorning my path, I was still at loggerheads with conspicuous benefits. And as I started approaching the completion of my I million Daimoku target, devils became vigilant and attacked. With no movement towards my Job struggle, I dipped. Only 1.5 hours away from my Daimoku target and a shoten zenjin, in the form of a senior leader came home mystically. I told her about my struggle and she guided on how No Daimoku goes for a waste and how Daimoku always goes to the place where its more needed. The vision of the Ghonzon is bigger than reality. That Guidance uplifted my dying spirit and my last 1.5 hour of Daimoku was more powerful than any other. And as soon as I finished my 1 million Daimoku target, I started seeing movement towards my Job Karma Victory.

Even though, I did not achieve the targeted goals of my 1 million Daimoku campaign, I achieved far greater Victories. Human Revolution is our biggest Victory and the sooner we embark on that journey the better. The 1 million Daimoku campaign taught me that we should not, come what may, doubt the power of Ghonzon and as Ghonzon is us and we are the Boddhisatwa, we should never doubt our own capabilities. The struggles that each one of us is going through are because we ourselves invited them during the Ceremony in the Air so that we can prove the validity of the law by being victorious over them in this saha world.

Therefore, only we have the power to change our life, change our destiny.

Airport Humour!

"It's the journey,  lad,  not the destination",  Pip repeated to himself. Miss Haversham spoke these words to make Pip's journey in wooing Estella an adventure rather than it being a cumbersome agony. 

Airports are living classes in sociology. Human  behaviour at it's best and worst. With air travel no more a privilege for the rich and famous, people from all walks of life, carrying their own definition of lifestyle choices adorn the airports- thank God for lowering oil prices,  airlines market being in perfect competition and 'cheap'  carrier aircrafts hovering the industry. 

Airport transit gives me just enough time to do my favourite thing in the world - Observe people and draw my own inference.  No,  bitch,  not judging,  just weaving inferences in my head. So while I wait for Spicejet to make the boarding call, I shall quote from the vivid memories of past airport transits and my exaggerated observation from today.

 

So right now sitting in front of Hamleys,  I see this insanely irritating toddler crying his lungs out to coax his mother to buy him a hideous plane.  Shit! I feel like slapping the child and I am sure the mother is cursing the father of the child for not using a condom on that forsaken night. Wow! Now the child is lying on the ground, raising his decibel even louder.  Fucking hell! Spare the rod and spoil the child,  much? Why can't the mother whack him instead of getting harrowed? Oh! dear God! Why the fuck is she giving her card to attendant? Selling the child and being charged for the same? Blasphemy! Noooooo. She bought her the plane.  "Woman,  are you crazy".  Well,  then we blame Hardik Patel and the likes for creating public nuisance to quench their unreasonable whims and fancies and for the spineless Government to bow down His Highness' desires.  Trust me,  if not Hamleys,  Hardik's training definitely started at a local kirana shop when he fulfilled his whim, against his mother's approv,  to get an extra Parley-G. 

Airport Lesson No.  1- Just potty training your progenies is not important,  discipline them.  Nurture over Nature always. Remember Caliban from Tempest?

From irritating children to nympho honeymooning couple.  Not making this up,  but once on my return flight to Delhi from Goa,  I oversaw a back-from-honeymoon couple (the woman was wearing Chuda and her henna was intact)  watching porn and whispering sweet nothings, Not,  abnoxialities,  to each other.  What the fuck did you do in Goa on the honeymoon? All your carnal desires, I am sure had enough room.  Call me prude or a 'righteous bitch' but I complained about the porn watching to the flight staff and 'morning wood' of the couple was asked to sleep. 

Airport Lesson No.  2- Article 15 of the Constitution  gives you Freedom of Speech and Expression but Article 15(2) also puts restrictions to the above stated Freedom.  Watch porn but not in a public domain.

Excel,  PowerPoint,  Drafts and Timesheet fillers are the relatable muses of the Airports.  'My Boss is a prick.  May he rot in hell',  the expression on the face,  the voice in the head.  Aye,  Aye,  Captain! This clan always intrigues me the most.  Whilst, most of the spectators view them as the protagonists of Suits, House of Lies,  House of Cards, trust me, half the time they are gasping for breath under the cloud of 'created work' by the vindictive bosses.  This breed usually occupies a distant seat at a cafe, a table for two, two is for the files, paperwork, laptop bag. This Ivy School category though consumed in their 'work'  will smell a 'hot chick' from a distant.  And the frustrated testosterone will make way for the most most complex excel sheet on their laptop,  in order to attract the estrogen. Have we not learnt shit from Desperate Housewives.  The plumber gets the booty not the spectacled Investment Banker.  

Airport Lesson No. 3 - No matter how occupied we are,  sexual tension can always be used as a bait to divert attention.  Remember Maneka, the tease from heaven.

The first flyers are pure joys. It could be an aged granny whose grand daughter splurged her first salary to book a return air flight for her dadima who has never been on a plane. The pure amazement and splendour in those 'wise' eyes is heartwarming. Also kids, well the well- brought up ones,  and their button eyes becoming extra large on being on the plane or on the Airport- amusing to say the least.   On a flight from Pune to Delhi, back in time of law school days, a first time flyer Aunty occupied a seat next to mine. After fiddling with the seat belt for a minute she finally made peace by literally knotting it up and covering it with her dupatta. She attentively heard the safety announcements and checked for the safety jacket. And then started reciting Ganesh aarti. When I gave her a confused look,  she said,  'First time. Bappa cha ashirwad aavshayak aahe'. Couldn't hold my awwed smile and helped her lock her seat belt in a proper way. 

Airport Lesson No. 4 - While we take the take age old traditions,  we can totally decorate them our way.

But first let me take a selfie breed. Not denying that I love selfies but I refrain from being a narcissist in the public domain. The Airport selfie addicts confuse with their gimmicks.  "Just made to the Airport. Thought would miss my flight. #runninglatetotheairport".  With that caked face and the well co-ordinate attire your picture and title and the time consumed in taking the selfie and uploading it on Facebook,  Instagram, Snapchat are a Paradox.  

And then there is nonsensical clan who insists on taking videos at the airport. Like capturing the ceiling, architecture, infrastructure, outlets, people. Remember David Headley and his reki videos of Taj. 

Airport Lesson No. 5- The exhibit should match the written description. You can't pass the cat as the tiger.

Airport dresscode followers. So here,  guilty,  My Lords. I like to dress up properly for the transit. Like put an effort to dress up to look casual enough for the transit. This category makes up for all the invitation to the Mile High Club. Not like a Mile High Club exists in India. Atleast,  I don't know of it.  So as far as clothes are concerned,  comfy but sultry,  not pyjamas but linen pants. Casual dresses and not A-line maxis (until and unless you are flying Emirates or Etihad). Slip ons,  wedges,  block heels, Yes. Stilletoes, chappals, No. Mehr Mac, Impassioned,  Yes. Morangie, Comeon. 

Airport Lesson No. 6- There is no occasion which doesn't require dress up. No Bras and no trousers are for home. For the other occasions,  dress up like 'When in France....' You never know if someone is game to paint you like them French girls.

Tell me about your Airport Humour!

No more Relationships; it's Situationships

Like how Carrie Bradshaw says in SATC,  'You take the traditions but decorate it your way', each one of us has a different take on 'romantic relationships'. There is no generic requirements for a relationship.  What works out for Mrs.  Weasley may not work out for Ms.  Doubtfire.

90s is the period of actual women liberalisation.  With financial independence and power in the work front and examples of women adorning pivotal positions in the society glamorised,  the attitude of 'I don't give a fuck' starting creeping in a higher dose from one generation of woman to the next.  With this sudden embarkment of powerful estrogen,  any model in which both man and woman were in co-habitation,  physically or otherwise,  began to be questioned.  And so the advent of 'equality',  'respect',  'what works for you,  works for me',  'women need it as much as men do', came into play.  With women becoming more confident and vocal about their desires,  wants and needs,  men,  who had been for ages,  flashed their 'scores'  and 'polygamous' privileges undercovers became awry of the 'vows of commitment' and vocalised their brain threads.

What was reached as a pact was synergies of both sexes. Flings,  one night stands, hook ups, open relationships,  on a break,  on a vacation,  just sex, live in relationships,  marriage but no progeny,  seeing/dating/relationship/commitment,  marriage but with a pre-nup,  marriage but single weekends and the traditional marriage/relationship.  Name it and there is a permutation-combination to the alliance. 

In the age where being a prude is bigger outcast then a slut,  we don't  question the relationship dynamics.  'Dude,  if it works for them,  it's cool'. But in the bigger picture,  sociologically,  we are left with dying and weak fragments of marriage and commitment.  With divorce no more a taboo and breaks up a reason for guilt free rebond,  the hormones of attachment and bonding are on the verge of extinction.  Am I judging the Practice? No. I guess,  we are mentally accustomed to the futility of romantic alliance.  Love is hyped.  Loyalty is for pets.  As I said, what works out for Mrs.  Weasley may not work out for Ms.  Doubtfire.

But call me prude,  but I still and will always question and show explicit disgust towards cheating.  Having the cake and eating it too is not a privilege.  Keeping the other party hanging whilst you go hitchhiking is abhorish. The convenience of defining a relationship is given on when both the parties are at the same page.  Not when one party has masks of all kinds adorning the wardrobe.

What the heck! Till both the parties have a yes nod to the modalities and are abiding law of the land,  not the draconian law,  like condemning LGBT relationships,  who the hell cares about what you do in the closed walls of the bedroom. 

Polygamy is illegal in the country and adultery as a ground for divorce is only available to the woman,  woman in a live in relationship has same rights as that of the wife,  child out of a wedlock has same rights, with certain restrictions, as that of the legitimate child. Win, win situation for women. 

P. S. - DON'T HATE US.

My Happy Corners!

Memories are like a jealous mistress; they require constant homage for them to become in sync with the well being of the provider. With memories, I consider only the ones which take me to a comfort zone, to the less complicated life, to my alter ego which I want to relive.

So here they are, my happy corners:

1. Rainbow of Colours.
My most comforting memory is of me in the 3rd grade, preparing for my English exam, the next day. Out in the garden, I sat on the swing, with Modern English in my hand and reading and dreaming. I gazed up in the sky and there was my moment of kaleidoscope, my first Rainbow. I exclaimed in joy. With that memory began my love affair with Literature and authors.

This memory I go back to in the event of despair and hopelessness. That Rainbow is my personal advent of Spring.

2. Memories of Fall.
Fall takes me back to the best days of my life- School Days. Coming back from school, after an exhausting day, mom made us have chilled meetha dahi. Sugandha and I both relished it. Even today when I see trees shedding leaves, I go back to those school days when with the meetha dahi we told mom about all the happenings of school (slyly kept quiet about test scores, home works and assignments).

3. Games with Sugandha
Sugandha is my younger sister, more so, my personal playtoy. I have some heart etched memories of play games with her. She was my pet dinosaur who I forcefully fed spinach leaves because Popeye taught me spinach makes us strong. She then became my dog. I used to tie my Mom's chunni around her and cuddle her to choke her to death. Growing up meant innate interest in clothes and make up and obviously my muse was Sugu. I wanted to be a hairdresser while growing up and obviously my first coveted client was Sugandha. And I cut short Sugandha's hip long hair with a garden scissors. Mom obviously grounded me for a week. I also dressed Sugandha up and tried my first eye liner skill on her. Needless to mention, Mom had a hard time devising new punishments for me.

4. School paraphernalia.
'Woh time alag  tha. Woh hum alag the'. School undoubtedly was the happiest time for most of us. Carefree and untampered dreams. Bonds of friendship not scarred by opportunism and materialism. My class was a bunch of hooligans, breaking the maximum school rules, annoying all the teachers. But no school representation was complete without a votary from my class. We were punished/ rebuked/ penalised but never did we let anyone corrupt us to be a traitor and break our unity. Recess, water fights, shooting airplanes at teachers, blushing on the reproductive chapter in the biology class, crushes and proposals, first advancement towards love, ambitions, dreams, boards, results, victories, loss and failures. Never have I cried as much I did during the school farewell.

5. Poona.
That says it all. College and Poona meant untamed freedom. Poona is a mini hippie city with happiness quotient highest in the country. Poona times were wild, WILD and my checks on 'Never have I ever'. But you know what they say 'If you haven't been wild and young...'. . Living independently for the first time, managing household chores, law school and the scarce attendance, pathan notes and semester exams, goa escapades, psychedelic activities, throwing up after 'mad rush'. Vaishali/wadeshwar/ savera- never ending lust over south Indian food. Living like a pauper at month end and salvating on vada pav. Marathi landlords and the scandalous behaviour of 'north ke bache'.

Poona has my first interface with everything 'not legit'. But still it's my most revisited time. My half a decade of 'Ja, Simran Ja'.

6. PepsiCo
First work and first pay check is always special. The first work has one's loyalty at par with that of a dog. Working like it's your own baby was the agenda and definitely PepsiCo was the best work experience I have had till date. They say, choose your boss not your work. Well, PepsiCo raised my expectations of a 'Boss' to the zenith. In person interaction with Indra Nooyi, working on the entire corporate restructuring of PepsiCo India and receiving accolade from PepsiCo legal head World and PepsiCo legal head Amea are the biggest work high till date. The retreat to Kerala, the town halls, team dinners and parties, and making family out of colleagues. PepsiCo gave me a living example of 'Work is fun'.

7. My all girls Vacation
Maybe our girlfriends are our soulmates and guys are just people to have fun with. Amen. My girlfriends are my treasure house, not denying that with time the dynamics of the girlfriends has changed but at any given time, I have not been without them. My all girls vacation to Goa rolls us in laughter even today. Bunch of junglees with no morals and decency, let loose to rot in Goa. While one of us tripped and started battling a bunch of ants destroying her kingdom, the other hooked with a hippy and planned to stay in Goa and own a shack, the other one drunk her luts out to get over a pending breakup, and the next bruised herself in a scooty collide. Our tan was not the only black mark that Goa gave us.

Having said that, the wilderness of these 6 girls is a my one after the other lindt  chocolate memory.

8. My solo vacation to Pondy
Never did the world make a queen of a girl who hides in houses and dreams without traveling. For a girl who has not even gone to a restaurant or a club or for a movie alone, a solo vacation was a mammoth gamut. But I needed that check. And then Pondy happened. Never have I been so indebted for making a decision. It made me acquaint with my 'courageous' side which I thought didn't exist. It made me interact with locals who I thought about while reading travelogues. It made me make friends with whom there was no pre conceived notion. It was a stranger's best interaction. Contentment lies a step away from your comfort zone and Pondy gave me that.

Ah! So these are my happy corners which I visit in the times of distress and then rejuvenate myself for life struggles.