July 26, 2010

The Return of the Ring

So we take on from where we left...
The ring finger of my right hand is completely naked and exposed but I solemnly and bravely continue into life without the beloved pet. One fine night I'm lying down on my comfy bed, clutching one of Jhumpa Lahiri's novels in my naked, naked hands. It is rather depressing. All Jhumpa Lahiri novels are depressing. I reckon she doesn't know how to write a happy ending. Anyways, I push the book away, muttering something under my breath to Lahiri (no, she's not in the room) resolving not to read anymore of her books and quickly fall into a deep, happy slumber. In the morning someone is tugging at my finger, almost dislocating it. I open one eye, perplexed. If my mum is trying to invent new ways of waking me up in the morning, this surely catches my attention. Then right before my half open one eye, mom slips a familiar ring into my finger. Is this what I think it is? YESSSS it is!! She found it in a strange place in a stranger way. The Universe decided to bring back my pet to me! Kind kind Universe!
So yeah, its back, not where it belongs, but where it was chosen to be in this place and in this time, on the ring finger of my right hand.

So Ms. Lahiri, I hope you enjoyed your first crash course on how to write a happy ending! :P

May 03, 2010

The Lost Ring

Three years ago on a hot May morning I had gone to one of the many colourful flea markets of Goa. I passed many flowing dresses, flamboyant hats, strange sandals and what not but one tiny thing caught my eye: a silver ring much like the one in the picture. I bought it immediately and wore it on the ring finger of my right hand for three consecutive years, never taking it off once. I grew increasingly attached to my ring and regarded it with affection, much like a parent who adores her child's face. Once I read a passage from Eckheart Tolle's book, A New Earth, where he describes a lady who was so attached to her precious ring that she feels very anguished when she loses it. The author then tells the lady to let go of her attachment. The ring might have been expensive and beautiful but it was unimportant in the greater scheme of things. The lady has a eureka moment and tells Eckheart, “Now I understand something Jesus said that never made sense to me before. If someone takes your shirt, let him have your coat as well.”
After reading that passage, I threw a glance at the beloved ring and realised that Eckheart Tolle could have been speaking to me too. Then life went on and I forgot all about the passage, happily and possessively wearing the ring.
One morning I woke up and the ring was not on my finger. I went berserk! Where was my pet?! I fretted. How could it disappear? It wasn't the slippery sort nor was I the kind of person who left the pet ring lying around only to forget about it later. I searched and cleaned the house, but in vain. It was nowhere to be found. Finally after a good many days I had to sit down and admit the most likely cause of disappearance: while doing poncha (since the bai doesn't come anymore and somebody has to clean the house) the pet must have slipped off as I dipped the poncha cloth into the dirty water and later unwittingly flushed it down the loo. Sadly I thought I could order a replica to fill the gaping hole the pet left in the heart. But somehow it didn't feel right. And then, BOOM! Eckheart Tolle's words Let it go rang in my ears. And then I figured, if the unslippable ring slipped out of my hand, there must be a reason. Perhaps the Universe decided that I need to learn the art of letting go and took away the pet. And if that was the case, I might as well learn the lesson now instead of fighting against the Universe. If the Universe thinks I can get the ring back, it will bring it back. After that I felt lighter and so did my right hand.

November 11, 2008

Kiss the Earth

- By Thich Nhat Hanh

Walk and touch peace every moment.
Walk and touch happiness every moment.
Each step brings a fresh breeze.
Each step makes a flower bloom.
Kiss the Earth with your feet.
Bring the Earth your love and happiness.
The Earth will be safe
when we feel safe in ourselves.

A Quote

"So many Gods, so many creeds, So many paths that wind and wind, While just the art of being kind, is all the sad world needs."

- Ella Wheeler Wilcox

August 12, 2008


Once she heard that her second grandchild was going to be born, Zarine immediately left her town in a car with her husband, Pesi and some other relatives in tow. A couple of hours later at Jehangir Hospital, Pune, an ugly bawling baby was put into her arms. She gazed at it with a warm smile but the baby couldn’t care less and continued howling. The newborn didn’t realize that she had been thrust into the most loving arms in the whole world. She didn’t know that she’d be in these wonderful arms only for 14 years. She didn’t realize her God-given gift. The baby was stupid. The baby was me.

During my growing years, Granny was a solid presence in our lives. It didn’t matter that she lived in Lonavala and we in Pune. She and my grandfather made frequent visits, never forgetting to bring a bagful of vintage Granny-Made jams. She was there for almost all my birthdays, clapping happily in the background as I blew out the candles. She was there for my sister’s and my Navjote, watching with tears in her eyes as we were formally accepted into the Zoroastrian culture. And of course, we spent many summers and winters in her home which she kept impeccably clean. An over sleeper by nature, I’d surprisingly always find myself awake at 6 AM at her house. Then I’d run downstairs to the kitchen only to find her asking me, “Milk or hot chocolate?” The answer was always a gluttonous, “HOT CHOCOLAAAATEEE!!!!”
Then I’d sit and watch her make it. Many conversations brewed up here. She often reminded me of the times I had with her, like when I told her to look after my dog’s offspring properly.
“You told me, ‘Granny, this is my dog. Look after him well.’ Have I looked after him well?” She would ask me, with a cheesy smile (a lot of times).

“Yes!” I would reply (a lot of times).
She didn’t need to ask me that. Chico was already six years old and a dog’s version of Arnold Schwarzenegger!

I remember a time we all had gone to her place. We were sitting on the terrace. Granny was her usual happy and glowing self. Baba raised a toast to my sister and me. He said, “I raise a toast to two young ladies who have been brought up so well.”
Then my wisecracking sister replied, “And I raise a toast to four adults who we have brought up so well!”

What fun we had up there, drinking and laughing.
We had to leave early the next day, because our dogs were alone at home. But now I wish we had stayed longer.
We hugged and kissed each other goodbye before getting into the car. As the car moved away from the house, a weird instinct made me spin around to and look hard at granny. I stared and stared at her shrinking figure till I couldn’t see her anymore. I wondered what made me look intently at my grandmother like that. What I didn’t know was that it was the last time I would see her alive.

Two days later, my dad came and woke my sister and me out of our slumber. He looked upset but I didn’t take that seriously. I just wanted to sleep more. The sister followed papa out of the room as I groggily climbed out of bed. Soon she was back, looking stunned and sad.

“Granny died.”

It struck me like a blow. I stood there too shocked to speak and then began to cry. It couldn’t be Granny… It must be someone else’s granny. It was just unbelievable… She couldn’t and shouldn’t die. Not now. Never.
“Granny? Our granny?” I asked, just to be sure.
My sister nodded.

Later I learned that in the previous night, Granny began to feel uncomfortable. My grandfather wanted to call the doctor but she stopped him from doing so. She never complained much. But later, when the heart attack became intense, she told my grandfather to do what he wanted, so he took her to the doctor.
When she was being taken to the ambulance, she told Suroo, the maid, who was helping her get in, “I’m not coming back.”
She was right. The doctors failed to save her and on
May 28th 2002, at 1:30 AM the brightest gem on earth faded away.

The ambulance that was carrying my grandmother halted outside my house. I felt too scared to enter it. One part of me knew that Granny was dead, but another denied it. She isn’t dead, it said, she couldn’t be dead. I wanted to believe that voice. I hoped that the person inside would be someone else. If I entered, the truth would be proved and my hopes, shattered.
I lingered outside for a while till I finally decided to go inside. A body was wrapped in a white cloth. My aunt, who was in the ambulance, pulled the cloth a bit so that the head could be seen. Desperately, I scanned each and every feature of the face. It was pale. Her straight white hair was in is normal puff. Her lips were slightly parted so that a bit of her rabbit teeth were revealed.
It was Granny.

I saw her being cremated from afar. A man came out of the cremation room and handed a container wrapped in a bright napkin. It contained granny’s ashes. I stared at it. It felt so weird to carry her around in a pot. And to know that she was gone for good.

Sometimes I browse around the cupboard and take out a bagful of pictures. I find her in so many of them. I see her shy nine-year-old smile as she dons a bizarre costume, her expression as she holds her first born, my father, and her happiness as she licks vanilla ice-cream. Then I remember all that’s gone; her jams, her sev, her smell, her physical presence.
However, her love has remained intact... For it is embedded in our hearts.

April 18, 2008

Orkut Goes Down

Oh god! I was just so relieved I escaped Facebook because it was so full of bullshitting activities and now it turns out that Orkut has got the Facebook fixation! Frankly speaking, I don't give a damn about who throws pies or sheep at whom and or who has given virtual slaps to whom.
Its a totally pointless activity and especially wastes away invaluable time that could be directed towards civil contribution.

I think the cynic just got more cynical.

March 11, 2008

American Presidents

Ever wonder why Americans keep reelecting presidents, no matter how stupid they may be? Its vary zimpal: So that they have less names to memorize. So smart, no?

December 24, 2006

Right Thinking?

Today I was reading an article on how robots might get rights in the year 2052 or something like that. Rotten shit.
Basically the argument is: You wont kick a real dog so why should you kick a robot one?

Isn't that a bit nutty? Shouldn't we first give rights to the trees so that they may not be cut? To the flowers so that they may not be plucked? To the ozone layer so that it may not be harmed?
Shouldn't we deal with whats the issue in the here and the now? Think about it rationally... If we don't protect trees, animals, water and everything else now, who the hell is gonna be alive and kicking to make robots years in the future, forget granting them rights ?

As I said before, we all run after the wrong things. Hats off to us.

*And don't kick the hat!*