Mindless tv

I have spent all my non working days in the last few weeks watching TV sacked out on the bean bag in a dark room.

I love it and I get annoyed when I am interrupted by both man and beast. Sage doesn't like being confined to the room a lot and resists by panting in my face a couple of times, until he realises I am not going to heed and settles down to sleep for a few hours.

The amount of sub standard crap is boggling and my appetite for it is shocking too.

Yesterday I watched a made for internet movie with some of the finest actors from hindi movies and theater and it was utter tripe! It brought to mind an interview of Nawazuddin Siddiqui where he said so much trip was being made in the name of realistic parallel cinema. 

A look back at 2017

January began well. We partied on new year's eve and I passed out on the lawn, woke up and went into the house, got into bed, woke up at 6 A.M and went about the day as though nothing had happened. Kind of like the way the entire year was.

The farm did spectacularly well. We grew carrots amongst so many other vegetables. We literally bought only onions for most of the year. We also grew our own tuvar and channa dals and I cannot even begin to express how good that feels.

Work wise, almost nothing made sense. I felt lonely and unable to put everything together. I felt the acute lack of workplace friends. People you can discuss work with because there is a common factor of the company you work for or the actual work that you do. I also felt extreme fatigue for work and didn't do classes with the pace that I usually have. I hoped that this spell would end and the only way for me to make something end is to work through it, plough through it and that's what I did.

In february, Sage had a pre seizure period that lasted a few weeks. It depleted me both mentally and physically. This dog has taught me many lessons and I love him with my life. Some of those lessons have been very exhausting and there were days when I don't know what else to do.

Amma was here in March and most of my day revolved around her. We also found that her long term eye doctor was relocating and that sent us into a mini panic attack, but she was comforted greatly by the new doctor and that was a huge relief considering how complicated her case is. March was also the time when for the first time I had baked goodies photographed professionally by a friend and professional photographer M. The results were stunning. Aunty E turned 97 and my uncle and aunt joined us in Hyderabad to surprise her.

April rolled in and the heat was terrible. I was cranky as per usual summer behavior. K and I went to Bombay for a night. We were celebrating the birthday of a friend and for the first time in 5 years, we took a flight together. Since Sage has come into our lives, we don't take any breaks or holidays by air, we drive everywhere. And K and I have not left him with anyone since he turned epileptic even for a day. So this was epic. I came home with a renewed dislike for the city that always stinks!

Amma had a fall in Chennai at home and had to have stitches put to her forehead. It was horrendous to even think about it, fortunately she had family in the same room and they rushed her to the hospital. In true spirit she bounced right back and recovered.

May was hot and happening. My friend N was here, we partied like middle aged women, with lunch and an afternoon drink post a spa date. My namesake friend was her with her adorable children and we caught up for a very short while. My summer workshops for kids were in full swing and there were boxes and boxes of perfectly sweet organic mangoes to be devoured.

May also brought amma back with my niece and nephew for two weeks. My brother and his family needed to relocate to Bombay and he wanted them to be with me so that they could pack up and organise the logistics of  transporting their household stuff. They made a stop at Hyderabad enroute Bombay with our 15 year old Cindy in tow. I was a little nervous, but the dogs got along well and each time sage got too close she snapped at him and firmly put him in his place.

June finally brought in the much needed rains. Little did we know that they would not stop till the end of september!

I turned 40 in july! there was no lightening or earth shattering but I was happy and having a great hair day on my birthday. The month was a sad one. 4 of my dog boys on the street died. I had to put down one of my favourite fellows ~ Joy. A friend of ours passed away and ironically he was an insurance agent and didnt take out insurance for himself. I was happy to end the month actually.

August began quite well. I attended an unintentionally good cake decorating class with a baker friend. We learnt indelibly how not to conduct a session. It was a lot of money wasted. And a shit storm followed because my baker friend wrote a do's and dont's piece and posted it on fb and people easily put two and two together. Its staggering to what extent some folks will stoop to harass another even when the perpetrator is clearly at fault. In august we also took a three night trip to jaipur with a group of people I have never travelled with before and I have mixed feelings about the trip. The only bright spot was that we left Sage at home with our close friend J taking care of him and he was fine. When we got back he refused to acknowledge me for half an hour, then came and cuddled into my lap. The biggest change of the month was Amma and Appa moving into an apartment on the same floor as us. It happened after a lot of back and forth and I am so glad they are finally here.

September saw me take a three day trip to Bombay at the end of the month, otherwise the month was pretty nondescript. Amma has shrunk considerably and become a shadow of herself. The move to  Bombay came with a huge upheaval and Amma and my brother were left battling the storm and anchoring the boat. When it happened, we didn't realise it, but it has taken its toll on her quite strongly. I felt guilty that I had not done enough and seeing her made me even more guilty. She turned 79 and I have never been so grateful for her life and example.

October was spent being busy with classes and having no time to think of anything else. We were enjoying the presence of K's family. Our routine now is to go there for morning coffee, I have stopped turning on the coffee filter since they moved. I pop in for atleast a couple of hours a day and both K and I spend a considerable amount of time there. It is lovely and reassuring to have them around. Sage is so confused and excited at the same time, running between the two homes. End of the month he had a bad epileptic attack and I simply shrank from the reality of it all. He recovered quickly, I cannot say the same about myself. Sometimes I wonder how this is all going to end, I dont like what I see. Amma and Rachel were here for the Diwali break and I had to skip my friend M's wedding in bangalore because I couldn't leave sage and travel even for a day. As I agonised over the decision, my 10 year old niece comforted me with "she's your friend, she will understand" and she did. M told me she understands and that nothing was more important than his health and I should take no guilt on this whole thing

I have only one significant memory for November, we celebrated our 14th anniversary with an epic dinner for two at Fisherman's wharf.

December saw some press coverage for me in The Hindu and I was beyond awkward at the photoshoot, but humbled at the response to the article. Calls and texts poured in from friends, family and students for weeks after. I had a busy month, but it was fun. I had a Christmas tea party at the studio for friends and had such fun putting it together. 23rd was K's 40th and we had a pretty good party for him at home. I was left with no energy to do anything for Christmas. We did have the tree and the cake didnt turn out great, but it was a nice quiet time with family, white wine and a spectacular Vegetable dum biryani that I made.

As the year came to a close, I remarked that it was a pretty good year for me and the Hyderabad part of the family. Not so good for Amma and my brother. The bad health, the move, the upheaval and finally settling in has left her depleted. I hope I will be able to spend a lot more time with her in 2018. the move that K's family has made was for the better. It has worked out beautifully and has added value to each member of the family.

I look back at the year in gratitude for all it has given me individually and us as a family. I have nothing but thanks.

Breakfast Stories

We were on holiday recently and travelled for the first time with two other couples k works with. We have in the past enjoyed travelling with friends multiple times, but this was the first with these folks.

These are people I know. Folks I meet and have eaten with, multiple times, over the last 6 years. We have visited each other's homes and socialized to celebrate occasions and sometimes just like that. Yet I didn't know what to expect from the trip. It's one thing to meet people for a few hours every few months. It's a completely different thing to stay with them and be with them over the course of a few days.

While I mostly enjoyed their company, the majestic palace hotel we stayed at and the general chatter, I loathed meal times. Suddenly the dining table became a no holds barred advice giving forum. Advice on what to eat and how and why and when by the two ladies who are extremely health and diet conscious (read stick thin). Each time someone reached for a waffle or ordered Puri bhaji, there was a five minute discourse about how unfit the rest were and what wrong food choices we were making.

I'm a fairly rational person. I understand when people  dish out well meaning advice  But there is a limit to the mumbo-jumbo I could listen to from ill informed people bent on making my long pending three day holiday into a 'correct your eating habits' workshop.

So I did the next best thing, thanks to early rising with Sage that's become a habit, I quickly began going very early and ahead of everyone to have my coffee and breakfast in peace. We are talking waking around 5:45, walking an hour and heading to breakfast by 7 a.m when only the staff is around and they're still setting up for service. I can manage every other meal in chaos and tune out the noise, but I need my coffee and breakfast in absolute peace, preferably eaten in silence.

                                                       

This arrangement worked to prep me for the rest of the day shared with other adults and a few kids and gave me enough time in the company I enjoy the most - mine. 

Why I take Monday's off

My busiest time of the week is the weekend at the studio. While I have a mixed demographic, weekend classes seem to always fill to capacity. I tried taking Sundays off. But the losses were too much to ignore. So now I happily work on most Sundays.

My father used to have Mondays off. He would wait for everyone to leave. Read the newspaper end to end, have the whole house to himself (which is bliss if you live with a large extended family like we did) and nap luxuriously after lunch, by which time the chaos would be back. He obviously loved it that way.

I may have inherited this. While we are a two person household, things get hectic during the week. There is constantly something to do and I really look forward to a day of silence.

Today is Eid, technically a holiday but k has to go to office and that makes me so happy 😂

I've just had a glorious breakfast of the excellent aloo paratha Sulochana makes, have curled up with my blanket in the guest room, sage is at my feet and this is how this day will progress.

Slowly and silently

Christmas

it's almost Christmas, today is the 20th and I am sitting in my bed, aimlessly browsing and thinking I should at some point get up and set up the tree atleast.

Every year the urgency is lesser and lesser. I feel I should do it and yet am not motivated enough to actually get around.

Tomorrow a friend and her family visits us. I want to get going before that atleast.

I had plans of cake and stuff, will probably get going on that on 22nd. 23rd is K's birthday and as per the grinch, he didn't want to have anything so will comply with his wishes (so much the better for me!)

Amma and all are off to Bangkok for Christmas and I am so glad they are doing this instead of the usual christmas fare! She is maha excited and so are the kids. 

Weirdly enjoying solitude

For the longest time I was that person who would go stay with a friend / family or have them come over if I was going to be alone for any amount of time. I would never be able to sleep alone, terrified of ghosts and ghouls and my own shadow. I blame it on not ever being alone or sleeping alone till I was 20. I lived with an extended family which meant that I always shared my bed or atleast the room with aunts/ sibling or myriad cousins. Which is a good thing, considering the rambling old house we lived in that would make the bravest soul pee in their pants if  they had to walk to the toilet (at the other end of the house) in the dark. Funnily I cannot recall ever having slept in the same bed as my parents, except when we traveled.  

When I moved to the hostel to do my post graduation, and subsequently the cities I moved for work, I always had room mates, tho I slept in my own single bed. For short durations I did have to sleep alone, but I spent most of the night reading or talking to my boyfriend on the phone and didn't really 'feel' alone. 

Post marriage, I can hardly recall being separated from K. Even when he traveled, I would always have a friend stay over, or go stay with someone. So much so that almost everyone knew how I hated being alone and they would very sweetly volunteer to come and stay over. I was embarrassed about this when I turned 30.

And then slowly I felt myself seeking my own company on evenings I was alone... spending time reading or just doing stuff around the house, sometimes just catching up on sleep. Sometimes I would go out with friends or sometimes alone, eating out and then come back home to sleep peacefully without the fear of my own shadow. 

Both my MIL and amma would call multiple times to check how I was doing, if they should come over to stay (Amma) or send food (MIL). With Sage now things have changed a lot. I no longer feel completely alone. And tho K travels a lot more than before, its just the evenings which drag on sometimes. When he is around, returning home from work is a little unpredictable, most days around 8 PM but sometimes later or even early mornings when work demands this. So I am used to spending the evening / night by myself. 

These days, I have a pattern for being a solitary being. I cook in bulk on the day he leaves, leaving me free of kitchen chores for the rest of his trip. I have been known to cook myself  just some rice/ roti even on a 10 day trip he made to China, and supplement that with curries / dal that was cooked ahead and frozen. I eat all kinds of odds and ends and completely avoid the kitchen except for making my chai and coffee.

The house is spic and span, perils of living with a very messy partner is that the house looks like a hurricane hit it when he's around. Only one half of the bed gets made/ messed and I can have the air conditioning at the temperature that does not freeze bodies!

I read, watch movies, sometimes 3 per night and stay awake till dawn, walk sage, have coffee and then sleep till lunch time. Even my maid told me she doesn't want me to make her breakfast as I should "take rest" because when "bhaiya is back I will have enough work in the kitchen". This is not because poor K creates work, but I am particular about eating as much as possible at home, avoiding cheap and oily food being delivered. So we do have freshly made breakfast and packed office lunches everyday. Food gets recycled for dinner with leftovers and bits and bobs. I sometimes ask the maid and driver to take a break for a few days since I don't want anyone hovering around me. 

Even Sage realises that the pattern changes when Amma is alone and gets his last walk of the day at 9 PM instead of the customary 10:30, because Amma will then binge watch movies all night!

I am finding it very comforting that I enjoy being by myself in a happy way. That I don't necessarily seek company, activities to fill my silence. I don't even take phone calls unless it is work related and my mom knows I haven't died if I don't answer the phone. 

Its a shift mentally, physically and emotionally for me. One that I am glad has happened. I cannot say that I do not look forward to these breaks of solitude!

December Grace

Its been a hectic month. After a couple of months of taking it easy with the studio, December is a month I was determined to go full throttle at work. Festive season is here which means that the baking classes pick up. I also had a friend come over and bake with me. She was to donate some goodies to charity and I offered moral and logistical support. Had a fun day baking, was a different experience for me. 

The planning with work and managing the home has helped immensely to take the pressure off me. I have begun to do laundry just twice a week instead of everyday. I even got my recipe guides printed way ahead of time this month and I cannot tell you how much that has helped. 

Sage has started to understand now that he will spend periods of time without me. He keenly and sulkily watches me as I dress to go out or for work. He doesn't like it, and if I have stayed out too long I do get the odd bite on my wrist, but he has settled (touch wood).  I have also begun to tell him he has to sit in the car without panicking when I stop on errands, I leave the window 1 inch open and dash back in less than 10 minutes and he's been fine. It eases a lot of pressure now that he has this down as a practice. Otherwise it was one made run around of dropping him home, settling him down and heading out again for small errands. It's not ideal to leave a dog in a locked car, but this will have to do for situations I cannot help. 

K has been busy as always. On one occasion he had to be part of a conference call with colleagues from the car itself as we were returning from somewhere together, what began at 12 pm went on till 7:30 PM. The guy ate his lunch, took loo breaks and tea breaks all while the call droned on and on. I cannot explain how bad I felt for him. It was draining and utterly boring to say the least. And he tells me this is how it is at least a couple of times a week. As for me, after a few hours, I did feel like I was locked in a room with a TV channel I couldn't change. Mind numbingly boring and to hear voices droning on and on is terrible!

The devastating floods in Chennai was a large part of my month. My Mom and brother's family fortunately were safe and they almost felt guilty. I saw the frenzy and wished I could do more than just RT calls for help and relay information. There were groups of people organising help and relief materials and very spontaneously I asked a group in Hyd how I could help. Due to the presence of a large number of ladies in the relief camps, there was a dire need for sanitary pads and underwear for them. I decided that food and water was coming in plenty and raised money specifically for this. In less than 48 hours, I was able to raise one lakh from friends and donated the material that was needed. I felt so blessed to be able to help in this small way and realised I have a tremendous amount of goodwill. 

Not everything was calm and composed though. After 5 days of not being able to make any contact with K's dad's youngest brother, I sent out an SOS on twitter. The area the 60+ couple live in was one of the worst affected and online updates spoke of 9-10 feet of flooding. I sent out an SOS on twitter and a good Samaritan waded through neck deep water to check on them. The couple had 4 feet of water in their first floor apartment and my uncle fractured his foot after a fall wading through water, but were otherwise OK. Some really tense moments for all of us there. 

With this kind of busy, I am largely focusing on the important. Yet at the end of a long day when I lay my head on the pillow, I am unable to shut out a few thoughts, that are haunting me. I can't seem to make sense of some things that have happened.  For now I have just decided to let things beyond my control just be.

My dearest friend B turned a day older and she flew down from Bangalore to be in town just for dinner (Pretty Woman style). We went out for a suitably celebratory dinner and I even dressed up!

I finally saw Bahubali and actually liked it. We've been going out quite a bit since the last few months.

My friend U decided to turn producer for a short film she's producing, it's going to be online content, and I sent her a token amount because I told her I would like to be a part of everything she does. She sent me kisses!

December has been all about the things most important ~ family and friends who are like family, work and the love of Sage. 

Of re-training and enjoying it

I haven't posted much here. Not because I have nothing to say (that is NEVER the case with me) but only because I haven't enough time to say it. For those of you that follow the Escapades page on facebook, you will know that the studio takes up most of my time. What is left, gets rationed out between the resident dog and K, not particularly in that order.

I've fallen into a good routine and slowly but surely, I've become a regular working woman again. I never stopped working, but operating part time and from the comfort of your house sort of skews the picture for oneself and others. It is the sort of situation where you appear to be working/employed but aren't really 'going' anywhere, and so to the whole world and sometimes yourself, it appears that you aren't actually doing anything. This is a truly terrible state to be in. One, your work becomes the lowest hanging fruit and is usually dropped or abandoned when other tasks or issues come up. Hospital visits, guests, emergencies at home, shopping trips and such like. I say this because I know this happened with me a lot. Each time Sage's health is on shaky ground, parents need something or K is travelling, I rescheduled and work around the situation. This is exactly the kind of flexibility one looks forward to in the independent worker / part timer / own boss situation. And while it works well most of the time, it is frustrating to be constantly juggling and letting go of work if there are other situations that need your attention and time.  

When I was exclusively working from home, I often found myself doing work 'only' in the pockets of time that were free anyway. Free from chores, familial responsibilities and dog care. This in turn made me very frustrated and not to mention angry and crabby at times because I was spinning around in circles. I was not giving my work the kind of space and respect it deserved, and feeling very inept at handling my situation. 

This is not true for everyone. I know a lot of families and people who work from home have a better grip on their situation. 

Last year when I moved my classes from home into a studio, I had teething issues that I didn't account for. When I had a scheduled class, I realized, I would have to be at the studio at-least an hour in advance if I wanted to be ready when my students walk in. This in turn meant I had to get done with whatever I wanted to do, get dressed and show up at the studio. The luxury of prepping for class in the middle of cooking lunch or breakfast, getting dressed as I arranged my work table, and worst of all opening my kitchen pantry and pulling out an ingredient I needed did not exist anymore. I had to be well prepared for a class. Do my shopping ahead of time, plan and finish my chores, ensure I had all the stuff needed for a class at the studio AND be there an hour ahead. 

I will admit it has been a steep learning curve. I am a creature of habit. To change that habit and create a new one has been cruel. I've had a few terrifying days. Nothing that has killed me, but at that time I imagined it would. The mind shift has been the most difficult. To acknowledge that this is no longer a kitchen garden set up. 

For the last 6 months tho, the shift is very visible. Not just for me, but K and Sage as well. The biggest hurdle was Sage. With his epilepsy, it is a delicate state. I nursed him for 14 months without stepping out of the house unless there was someone else with him. He needed medication every 4 hours, he was clingy (medicine induced) and jumpy all the time and we were terrified of something happening to him if I so much as stepped out of his sight. I didn't have the confidence to lock him in the house for the time that I needed to be out and working. So everything got sacrificed. Couple time, movies, dinners with friends, gym, everything. If I had to step out, K had to be at home. With a demanding job that involves travelling, K being available to watch Sage wasn't happening too much and we regressed back into a time when he was a puppy and needed 24/7 attention. 

We began retraining Sage to be on his own for small intervals of time. I would lock him in, take a walk around my building and come back in 10 minutes. Supermarket visits followed and then I started running regular errands, going out for coffee or lunch with friends and K and I began accepting dinner invites and appeared to be lesser snobs!

The training has worked for the most part. The home and family have fallen into a routine and this is a good thing. I have my class schedule done at the beginning of the month so everyone knows what to expect. The maid too comes in and does her work without asking for much supervision. On days that I work, I leave home around 9:30 and am back by late afternoon, sometimes as late as 3, but I still get to give Sage his medication, have lunch at home and catch a snooze on lucky days. 

Mornings are super organised and efficient with the washing machine loaded and running even before I've had my coffee! And I must admit I like this more than anything else because it just sets the pace for the day. And when I come home completely drained after my class, I don't have to worry about what to cook or house chores to finish. 

The entire household now is oriented towards having me leave as per my schedule for the day. Including family who desist from calling me for a casual chat on work mornings. I am at ease and I work better without the niggling stress. I also come back home with a stronger feeling of control over my day and as a result of it my life!

So from a stay at home person, I am now a 4 times a week working person. On the days that I don't have scheduled classes, but need to work on orders or develop a recipe, I take Sage with me to the studio. He is ecstatic and loves me extra on those days. He sits around, naps and sometimes just walks into my neighbour's flat to be pampered and spoilt silly. 

I didn't realise it till a few weeks ago, that now I am working on a schedule and regimen akin to when I was fully employed. The only difference being I work through the weekend and usually try and take an off on Monday's. This hasn't worked out so well. I still end up doing some writing or baking for orders or other sundry work, but hey, every working person does this. None of us can claim to be fully cut off from work on off days. But yes, mentally  I am getting my one day a week off. 
I don't know if it is true for all women, but I know a large chunk of us get buried under our own guilt if we have to prioritise work over family life. I think its just the way we are conditioned. We are expected to sacrifice. If we don't, we are bitches, if we do we are push overs. Having said all of this, its completely upto us alone to figure out some working model. Each of us has one as unique as ourselves. What works for me will not for another. 
So far, this is a functional model for me and my household. I hope this good run continues!
What has been keeping you busy and occupied? Tell me, I'd love to hear your story. 

Taking off the safety net

Early this year, I set myself a target. This is a departure from how I usually function. I have never been ambitious. That has been my virtue and my vice. Virtue because it allows me to do things and enjoy the moment with nothing else but the experience. My vice because I do not push harder, much to the chagrin of all of my superiors in any job that I have had. My feedback was always "Can do way better" and that used to break my heart. 

I felt sad for the girl who always took up a task wholeheartedly, not aggressively, with the utmost sincerity and yet no one seemed to notice. No one seemed to notice the honest effort or the earnestness or that the job was well done. All everyone saw was that it could have been better. I was always a work in progress. A person who's potential was not utilised. Every appraisal, I hoped my bosses would see my sincerity, every appraisal I was given a list of 4 names who had done better. 

My clients loved me, my trainees adored me, I always had feedback averaging at 9/10. But that was never a reflection of how my superiors saw me. 

I have attention span deficit. An activity does not hold my attention for longer than a few months and that has been my weakness. I have started several things and they fizzle out within a few months. Hobbies and interests are sacrificed at the altar of 'real work' or schedule or family. So when last August, I decided to give my cooking classes a fresh lease of life, I decided to focus on targets. This was to test if I really had it in me to run with an idea. To test if what I had in mind was viable, and above all to see if I had the sustenance to see it through. 

By the end of the year, I was to decide if I really wanted to continue with the cooking classes. I had them running for about 6 years. The breaks both big and small that I had taken were largely unnoticed by everyone except that I felt guilty that I was under performing as usual . I wanted to make a decision based on some numbers - and not on a (not so) baseless "I don't feel like doing this now"

December came and went. 2013 was a tumultuous year in every way and I drew a lot of strength and courage from teaching in my class. It lifted my spirit and gave me the confidence to face another day. So by December I knew, that I was capable of sticking with something as long as it was interesting. I told myself that it was upto me to make my classes interesting, I needed to evolve as much as I wanted my classes to.

For the next quarter, I set myself another target. I was to make a decision on moving the classes out of the house. This meant I had to set a target for enrollments and objectively look at recovering overheads and other costs. By the end of March, I was convinced this was the next step - to move out of the house.

Not just the scaling up, there were several personal reasons to make the move. My home was used as headquarters. While it has served me faithfully and well for all these years, the sheer logistics of managing all the material and groceries meant for the classes was boggling. Every inch of storage space was being used and as a result, material scattered over the house. The kitchen and pantry was the worst hit. No demarcation between supplies for home and supplies for my classes meant that my monthly grocery bills had skyrocketed and I am not that great at keeping accounts! The family was deeply affected. While they didn't mind it and were extremely supportive, the stress of class day was becoming taxing. K and Sage were under house arrest for the time that people were at home. Sometimes classes extend and students tend to hang around, lunch times would get inordinately delayed. Sage is epileptic and on strict medication for it. He needed to be leashed for the duration of the sessions and that would also induce stress in him. It took me an hour after the class wound up to pacify him on most days. I couldn't have more frequent classes because it was too much to ask of the family and home. I was uncomfortable with my very personal space was now open to strangers. For as long as I could think of it, I told myself that I would be better off with the classes at home.

After all the discomfort I mentioned, it also had manifold advantages. Since the home and workplace merged together, it was easy for me to monitor and take care of both. To be able to be at home and still work is a blessing that we seldom give thanks for. The fact that the kitchen doubled up as my back office meant that I could always dip into the supplies of the pantry or my stash of stuff for personal use whether it was a ribbon or sprinkles. I could work when I wanted or not at will. Managing the logistics of a home based enterprise is gentler tho in no way easier, one can set up for a session at 5 AM without even batting an eyelid (or brushing my teeth!) or work well into the night without the anxiety of reaching home safely or keeping an eye on a sleeping drugged epileptic dog.

I began looking for a space towards the end of April. I needed the place to be close enough for me to rush home in an emergency. I needed a large and airy space with a functional kitchen. I found an apartment a week later on my morning walks with Sage. It is close to where I live, in the adjacent lane. It took the owner a week to decide if he wanted to give it to me because I said I would use it for classes. We haggled over the rent a bit, convinced that I was desperate and because I wanted it for my classes, he charged me a rate higher than what he had earlier quoted.

Once I had the keys and my heart beat came back to normal, I realised that this was 'it'. The safety nets were off. The freebies had run dry and this  really was the time to put my faith where my heart and my skill is. For the first time, I felt elated and scared as hell.

I've spent an unproductive month, without being able to use the new space. Firstly because it was bare and had no furniture, secondly because I had sprained my back and Sage was ill and between everything else, I just found it easier to do the last few classes at home.

It took me about a month to get everything sorted. Carpenters, electricians, painters and the like to fix things and set them up. Through all the angst, I felt empowered. This has been my decision, my vision and its failure or success depends wholly and solely on me. Every decision has been a lesson in patience, planning and management. I drew again and again from my inner self. Talking to myself as I waded through. Not because I didn't have the unstinting support of my family. But simply because this is a journey I needed to make alone. I felt happy and peaceful and hopeful and all things good with each step that inched closer to getting the studio ready. I have always been confident, but I have been an approval seeker. I have always wanted my choices to be validated. Sometimes I seek it from people with no expertise in the matter, only because of the proximity of the relationship and then agonise over what they have said.

I don't know why, I didn't seek anyone's approval this time. I did my research, prepared myself and made decisions. When one thing failed, I looked for another solution. I didn't go running like a damsel in distress to anyone expecting them to fix it. I am feeling incredibly good about this.

Yesterday was the inaugural class at the new place. I cannot even begin to describe how I felt. I should write another post. There was one overwhelming moment when I suddenly felt "OMG, this is really happening"

So that's my big story. This is my big move. Here are some pictures of the new place. Wish me luck... I need all that I can get.

On being a teacher

One of my strongest memories of people, is one I had as a teenager with Amma. We were at the famous All India Exhibition, a very public place with over 20000 stalls and lakhs of people visiting every day. In the midst of the chaos, I heard someone call out my mother's name and follow it up with "Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam"

We turned around and a lady with a teenage son, hurled herself at my mother and kissed her. They spoke animatedly for a couple of minutes. The lady then turned to me and gushed about how much she loved my mother and that she enjoyed her college life only because my mother was a very compassionate and friendly teacher. She said she vividly remembers certain things my mother has said in class and it went on and on for a bit.

This has obviously stayed with me. I told my mother then and now, I cannot think of her as a professional. She to me was always the tormentor of my youth, the no nonsense mother who wouldn't entertain tantrums, the mother who every child thinks is just out to be annoying. So when I saw unbridled love and admiration for a woman I mostly had complaints about, it made me think of what she meant to others in her life. 

I cannot think of a single teacher that I have had, who has left such a lasting impression on my life or who I have affection for. I have had teachers that I have liked. Teachers who have stayed in my memory and some of whom I talk about even today. But none of the "you changed my life" experiences. 

When life turns a full circle, sometimes it shuts you up, sometimes shocks you. After a few years spent in nondescript back-end work, I moved into a people facing role with training. Immediately I was made to understand, that though I was in that particular role because of my communication skills, I wouldn't make too much progress unless I quickly developed a few other skills I severely lacked. 

The first one is patience. I call it a skill and not a virtue. Simply because this is something that can be learnt, practiced and developed in all measures. I was not born with unlimited reserves of patience. People who know me in real life know that I am short ~ tempered and willed! So patience was the first skill that I realised I severely lacked and needed to develop on a war footing if I wanted to make any progress with my career choice. 

There are so many people one encounters. In a people facing role, this is magnified tremendously. for one, you are meeting with so many people on a daily basis. Each one comes with their abilities, inabilities and quirks. To understand them and cater to them is difficult. To make oneself approachable and gain their trust and respect is like climbing a hill in the middle of a horribly hot afternoon with shoe bites on your heels. Most people are guilty till proven innocent. And I learnt very quickly, that I had to be on their side.

No matter what one's skill or knowledge, one is judged within the first minute of an encounter and as a teacher, if you fail, you can almost never reverse the tables. So my temper, my angst, my anger and most importantly my pride, were all quickly swallowed. The more I realised it was not about me, the easier it got for me and the more effective I was in my work.

I learnt also to say without shame that I didn't have all the answers. I learnt that it was allright to say that I didn't know and would find out the right information instead of fumbling or worse still - fibbing. That didn't mean that I could be shoddy in my research and preparation. The days I thought I knew everything, or entered a training room with inadequate preparation, I would be acutely reminded of how I had messed up. I learnt that I had to be well prepared and informed and equipped and no matter how hard i worked, there would be that odd day that I didn't have all the answers

It has built my confidence to speak to strangers, to speak to an audience of any number. It has made me smile a lot more than I normally would have because otherwise I am accused of frowning too much. Teaching has also made me realise that I may not touch people the way my mother has, but I have had an impact on people's lives. I feel honoured to receive birthday and festival greetings after many years of meeting a participant. I feel happy to bump into people at public places and they recall our first meeting or what I had spoken in a session. I am humbled when someone emails to tell me they got a better job opportunity or their confidence has improved or their life has been enriched in some way because of a session they have attended.

I haven't had a "maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam" moment yet. But I enjoy being a teacher and reaching out when I can. It has been my most fulfilling role and I am thankful that teaching found me and made me a better person. 

The truth about me

Sometimes, I cannot recognise myself. The unabashed approval seeker of a few decades ago. The life of the party. The person who wanted everyone to know, like and approve of her. The one who outwardly wanted all the attention and yet cringed and felt uncomfortable when the spotlight was on her.

I grew up wanting like every other teenager to be popular. I went out of my way to hide my insecurities. With a less than ideal family situation, I was eager to show people I was normal and likable and fun to be with. That made me more friendly than I actually felt and certainly less assertive. All my secrets were hidden away in the noise I produced.

When I entered my mid twenties, I had a small and secure group of friends. Some of them still remain in my life... Some I outgrew but have fond memories of.

When I got married, unlike every newly wed ( and I am making a very generalised sweeping statement), I did not get cocooned and fall out of touch with friends. Infact on the contrary, K and I went all out to be that young married couple who's door is always open. We had friends, friends of friends and then some. I enjoyed that phase too.... of his friends becoming mine, and mine becoming his and the lines blurring. We moved homes, went through a phase where we had to practice extreme financial discipline to get by and as a result, our friends list whittled down to those who would not mind the downgrade from noisy night club to quiet balcony.

I think around the time that I was entering my 30's having quit my job and in looking for meaningful things to do, I found that despite the fact that my general countenance is loud and aggressive, I am quite the social introvert. My friend N made this discovery and it must speak for the relationship we have, that she recognised and acknowledged this trait about me. I love having people over, as much as I need my quiet time.  After every couple of days of intense socializing and activities involving others, I need my down time. I need my silence and my space. I am territorial and get cranky when it is usurped and encroached upon. I have OCD and it shows even in how vessels need to be arranged inside the kitchen cabinets and it gets to my gut when even my Mom does it another way. 

Slowly but surely, the long hours and silence of being alone at home forced me to calm the fuck down, think and figure out a few things. I don't believe I have "arrived" at suitable answers to all my questions. But I have surely learnt that there are questions, and I will find answers...sometimes sooner than I think, sometimes later. I found that it is also ok to have unanswered questions, to be in doubt and yet go with instinct. Rarely have I been wrong when I have followed my gut. When I have forced myself to work / think / live according to someone else's logic, that's when I have fallen flat. 

So the truth is, I continue to protect myself fiercely. My thoughts, wants, needs, dreams. The difference is that I do not feel the need to make excuses for it anymore. I think this more than anything, has made me bolder and stronger. We all have imaginary conversations, of what we will say when asked this and that. I had most of mine this way. The difference is that now I say it out loud. Politely, but firmly. The truth is that the realisation that I need to nurture myself first, my family and those I love next has been very liberating. 

I love more freely now. Because my love is spent on the people I hold precious and not in the quest of being popular. I speak my mind more now and yet get into less arguments and fights. I am more confident in my decisions because I weigh the pros and cons I realise more than anything else, what I want for myself is as important as anything else that I do. That I cannot be a good person or fulfill any relationships unless I am at peace with myself. 

And this has been the most rewarding realisation for me. 

Lost and Found

It was hard to miss. The branding and brouhaha surrounding 8th of March. Everything from jewelry to clothes were being peddled as the ideal gift for the woman in your life. It seemed like every other occasion, the amount of money spent was proportionate to the love you had.

Readers of this blog will know I am not one for occasions. I hardly celebrate my own birthday or wedding anniversary. Not because they are not special, but I would rather not try and have special behaviors only on days that are meant to be marked.

So a few days ago, when everyone was actually confused about why women's day was being celebrated. And there were odes to womanhood with all the cliches of "wife, mother, daughter, sister" being posted and reposted across all social media, I had a few moments to myself.

There are days when I spend some time going over my last 2 decades. I am amused and sometimes even chuckle when I see what I used to be and what I have become. I know that my core remains the same. But I am talking of my outward behaviour and appearance.

I spent all my teenage years trying to be a boy. I felt it was more fun, got me more attention and kept the assholes away. So I had a rough way of talking and rode a two wheeler thinking I was a racer. I also wore a fluorescent green jacket and a crash helmet. I would swing my leg off the seat of the bike, and not climb off daintily like a girl. The problem was, no one noticed, or spoke of this and I wondered if they were just being polite or ignoring me. I loved doing errands for the house that sent me to bill paying to offices, vegetable buying to markets and driving people, visitors, relatives and all and sundry around town.

Even today, a lot of people don't have good first encounters when they meet me. I don't have a girly girl voice and speak in a way that makes them feel I am brusque. That came from years and years of practice (of fending off eve teasers and such like who harass girls incessantly on the street) and is now my style (!)

At home, I hated doing anything in the kitchen unless it was on display. So setting the table, making or serving dessert and generally being of minor non cooking help. I wasn't the first choice of kitchen assistant. My brother was the more willing and able one. Also had more physical strength to do all the mixing and stirring that was needed while cooking for about 50 on wood fires in the back yard in huge vessels that I could easily sit inside!

That changed very very slowly as I hit my twenties. I got more male attention than I could handle, I had a steady boyfriend and I was definitely being assessed in the marriage market. I was reluctant to give up what essentially was "Me". But along the way, a lot of what was put up for defense, peeled away. I was still brusque and short and could punch someone real hard. But I also discovered women's fashion and grew my hair longer than it had ever been. These are sure cosmetic, but when I think of it, they were definitely a manifestation of an internal shift.  

When I got married, for the initial few months, I was obsessed between playing house and acting like nothing had changed. I would go into overdrive and cook and clean till I passed out, or leave things to pile up till I couldn't even find what I was looking for. I was wanting to come across as a new wife who had it all down to pat. 

Unfortunately, nothing lasts with me and my fruit fly attention span. Life moved on, I got older and hopefully wiser. I started to worry less about how it would look to others and focus more on how comfortable anything made me feel. So my house and my clothes and my lifestyle were finally beginning to serve me when I hit my 30's. 

I also quit my regular job and sat at home for a while. I read, ate, slept and got rid of my watch and cell phone. I discovered the amazing world of the internet and started a food blog! Imagine I was poring over 100's and 1000's of recipes and blogs reading about people and their lives and the food at their tables! I have been working since I was in my teens. And not earning my keep was really getting to me. So on a whim one day, I went to a class that taught Chocolate making. I got into a mad frenzy after that and made chocolates till they was coming out of my ears. Tentatively, someone asked me to teach and I agreed. With that another world opened out to me. I was soon doing three classes a week and making more money than I ever had with a regular job. 

Thus began my saga. Today, 7 years on, I am still teaching - Chocolate making, baking, salads etc. I talk food, I research food, I cook and feed and teach it and it is such an integral part of me that I forget sometimes, that inadvertently, I found myself in food.

I found myself in the kitchen, amongst ingredients and pots and pans. I am happiest when I am teaching in my class. Answering questions and interacting. I do not claim to know all the answers and have burnt cookies in full public view of my students.... but I am not afraid anymore.... of failing... of being judged.... of someone not liking a particular dish I make...

When I look back it is almost laughably ironical that I ran away from a stereotype and yet found myself in one such!

Long Walks

Since the start of this month, K has joined Sage and me on our morning walks. We wake up, dress for a little warmth as it still is a little cold in Hyderabad in the mornings, and trot off. The thing about K coming along is that he has changed the rules. With sage and me, we walked for 30 to 45 mins each day, in a colony near by and spent a lot of time playing with stray dogs, he would run about, I would sit with a couple of them in my lap and we would have a nice time.

K has come now and changed the rules. For one, we walk longer, in terms of time and distance. So now we walk just over an hour, and about 3.5 kms.

Ofcourse we stop at the end of the walk for some overly sweet chai and onion samosas brought in fresh by a man on a moped!

This we repeat after dinner, but cut the distance by at least a kilometre due to the heavy traffic even in colony lanes at night time. 

We talk on our walks. About life, work, us, sage, the houses and trees and balcony gardens. We talk about other things that we don't usually talk about. Like thinking of a holiday home. Or how we would spend our older days. What dreams we have been dreaming lately. What makes us sad, annoyed and even afraid. We hold hands, because the walk is a leisurely one and not about getting somewhere. And we are exploring lanes and bylanes in the 5 kilometre radius of our house that we never knew existed. 

It is tough to see the myriad houses packed closely together in semi slum-ish areas when you drive past in a car. The ones that have seen a sudden spurt of growth, come up and are now housing dozens of single men and women working in the city. The ones that proclaim who lives in the rooms by the clothes that hang out to dry. It is amazing how for over 9 years that I have lived here, I have not once noticed just how many hostels there are around where I live! 

The many little lanes, some come up with surprising little gems. Like a street I was barely cognizant of, turned out to be well laid, canopied with eucalyptus and other trees and was so quiet you could hear the birds chirp. 

or the impossibly beautiful and seasonal flowers on really dusty trees

Or the gate that you never noticed, housing about 300 construction workers in makeshift tin shed tenements. The hustle and bustle at 6 AM as they get ready for the day. The women, with bright red vermilion drawn broadly between the parting of their hair, which is oiled and tied firmly back. I was pleasantly surprised to see many of the women dressed to the nines at 6.30 AM, including bright lipstick. No fear of "am i looking good in this?" I wish I had some of their confidence.

or bottles lined up on a wall of a booze shop that has not yet opened from the day, so small and cute that I picked them up to make vases out of them

The many many many dogs on the street. One can make out a family of dogs from their features. Some of them with long tall perky ears and blackened snouts. Some with a stubby nose but so handsome I want to take all of them home. Some with fluffy thick fur that I am itching to bathe and brush. Many of them use only three of their four legs because they are recovering from a fracture. The perils of living on the street and being hit by a vehicle or a ruthless human and a stone. Some of them recover well enough to walk on four, but run only on three. Some of them have permanently damaged the limb and make do with three. Feisty and spirited tho, also curious about the overindulged fat little golden retriever who is not intimidated by their barks. They come a few feet closer, and wag their tails suspiciously when a hand is put out to stroke them. They are unsure because most of them do not know human touch.

The days we miss our walks (both K and I have had a bout of the seasonal flu) all three of us seem listless and crave that alone time with each other.

I think this is the beginning of a very good thing. I love what it will do to us healthwise physically, mentally and spiritually. 

What is true love?

I've been thinking a lot about this lately. Sometimes because of the people in my life, sometimes because I am seeing marriages crumble, sometimes because I question my own. I am talking about relationships in general and I mean a relationship / marriage between two people. Not friendships, not platonic love, but love between two people in a romantic sense, that goes beyond dating. Love or a relationship that is a serious, adult, mature one.

What makes it tick? For the longest time, I had this idealistic, romantic, fuelled by Hollywood romances as the notion of love. I believed I would be with that one man who would understand my silences, complete my sentences and be my knight in shining armour.

Over the years and it definitely has to do with my age and maturity, I found myself letting go of that notion of love. Of finding that perfect human being with perfect understanding and perfect love. Of a time when there will be no arguments, disagreements or disappointments. I know now that it is an unbelievably unrealistic expectation and a burden too heavy to carry. It also left me devoid of the energy to focus on what was happening in the moment and so concerned about what was not happening which needed to be righted. As a result, it looked like I was constantly nit picking.

For most of my adult life, I felt true love or that perfect soulmate would come and make my troubles disappear, that he would be the answer to all my questions, solve every problem (real and imagined) and make my life happy and beautiful. I would be the confident person who had no problem and was able to sail through life very successfully in whatever I chose to do.

For the longest time, this also made me a very unhappy person. Because these were expectations no one could meet. It was a recipe for disaster, for dissatisfaction and a web of disappointment.

Don't get me wrong. I love K, to bits, I cannot imagine my life without him. I could not have chosen a better man or a more worthy partner to marry. I believe also, due to my past, that I was very lucky to have made the choice. He was right there. My friend, the one I turned to when the going got tough, the man who seemingly had all the answers, and who loved me desperately. My love for K was gradual, it sprouted from extreme respect. I discovered I loved the way he made me feel, the stories he told, the belief he held true to his heart. I realised he was someone I most definitely could live with, grow old with and have a life with. I realised that more than anything else in the world, here was a man I wanted to experience life with.

We love each other to the point of exclusion of everything else. We have amazing conversations, he makes me laugh, we have built a whole lifetime of amazing experiences that only we could have shared. I turn to him when I need support, when I cannot make sense of things, when I am afraid. I turn to him when I have something to celebrate, to rejoice, to feel happy about. I believe firmly, we have a destiny together and a chemistry we could not have had with anyone else.

But more than anything, I appreciate him fully because I no longer expect him to be my Mr.Fixit. I don't expect him to spring miracles and make my problems go away. I know that he cannot find my meaning in life. I know that I want him to be the one to walk with me as I navigate life and find the answers to my questions, to be my companion on this journey which is sometimes tough.

This freedom to not want him to solve my problems, has made me love him even more. Because it gives me the space in my head and heart to truly appreciate him for who he is and not what he does to me. This makes me love him for love's sake. This makes me see him for what he is and believes in and wants to achieve.

Only I can fulfil my desires, exorcize my ghosts and achieve my goals. I cannot expect any other person, even the one I love, to do this for me. I needed to have that sense of self, of knowing who I am and what I want. Previously, I wanted my partner to fill me with the meaning and purpose of life, to make me feel accomplished and to make me realise my potential.

I found myself and I made friends with myself. That is the day I freed myself to love with a full heart, with a heart that wanted only the love and companionship and passion of a partner but not a problem solver.

The celluloid dream of passion and romance is created and scripted, it is unreal and doesn't last forever. It is made for movie credits. Real love and romance and passion needs to be nurtured with trust and care. Real love is annoying and burdensome at times because of the fragility of the humans who are involved. Real love is a daily choice and it goes beyond the celluloid make believe.

Real love is on days when I feel like screaming in my head, but all I want is a comforting hug and an unruffled voice which tells me everything will be ok. Real love is when I tell K I need some alone time and lock myself in the loo with the ipad. Real love is when I tell him I had a shitty day and I don't want to talk. Real love is when I tell him I am afraid of what the next day holds.

When I look around, and I see relationships crumbling, I thank my stars for making me see through the make believe I clung to when I was younger. I am grateful that I have a man who would rather tell me the truth even though a lie would be easier to deal with. I am thankful that I do not want to be a damsel in distress. I am thankful that I want to walk in my own path, albeit holding his hand as he walks down his.

While this may not sound very romantic to you who are reading it. I think this has freed me to experience real love... and it has been the truest revelation of my life.

i do say f*ck an awful lot....

My gym trainer thinks i need to get a tee like this. I agree with him and a friend of mine is going to get one like this printed for me.

I don't even think this is a bad word anymore. Its more of an expression when I say "F*ck! I love that" or "F*ucking crack" or any other such stuff that gets said multiple times during the day.

today I said it when the said trainer tried to kill me with my workout... weights, pushups, squats...i did say fuck quite a lot! then i had to deal with (like always) scum of the earth... made me say it another few times...bad drivers, idiotic messages on FB, ungrateful people...i do say fuck an awful lot!

i also use it to describe something awesome.... fucking great food or something similar!

i live with my mom, that hasn't made me use it any less...

maybe i should get a dozen of these tees!

the comfort of the known

Yesterday morning, I was determined to get my routine back on track. Can it even be called a routine if it changes almost daily? I don't know. But in my head, a morning workout (which essentially is me time) is a big part of it. After almost two weeks of absenteeism, I walked into the gym with a flutter in my heart. the flutter was because I was anxious to check if I would be able to do my old routine, or struggle. Each time I reach a decent level of stamina and fitness, something happens to throw me off the rails. Last time, derailment was due to viral fever epidemic at home, other stuff that made it impossible to carve out some time in the morning, Sage being ill. It came to such a point, that I thought I would never be able to go back to the gym.

It made me fret for the loss of my fitness, for the loss of my sweat! and for the loss of my me time.

see the thing is, despite the fact that the mirrors tell you there is so much work to be done, and the extra set of squats with weights that your trainer gives you threatens to kill you, it still is awesome to see you push yourself.

I never thought I would find pleasure in pain!

I resumed the gym, went back to my daily routine through the day, dragged myself to my dance class in the evening which btw was so much fun, and sank into bed at midnight, with the tiredness that only a well spent day can give you.

it was a fabulous day. I felt terrifically energised and more in control of the stuff that I was allowing to happen. I hope this spell lasts longer than the last lousy one!

have to go now, the kettlebells, they are waiting!

Oscillate

what is it that makes us experience the highest high and the lowest low in a matter of few moments... a few minutes, sometimes hours or if you are lucky to stabilise your heart rate and your mind, a few days...

i am one of those people who oscillate so badly that i am fearful of the chord that is seemingly holding me together. the chord that right now is holding all the pieces together.

i watch aerial acts performed by dancers/ acrobats and wonder if that is me in a more stylised version.

one moment when everything is so clear in your head, one moment when it is so hazy, you cannot even see your toes...

what is it about space that makes us so territorial. Its almost scary to see how our instincts are not so different from an animal who marks its space. that corner of your home and mind, where you are alone. where you are able to think and brood and recuperate. it is so important for your well being. to know that that is the space where there will be no encroachment.

sometimes it is that space which you dont have which makes you crazy. the thought that you haven't had a moment without someone watching you... that you havent been able to sigh without being asked why or even stay in bed with unbrushed teeth because you don't want anyone to panic...this balancing act is so tiring, draining and simply annoying. 

of having a lovely day...with myself

my friend N calls me a social introvert. I think she has come closest to describing what i have become over the last few years. I have written extensively and sometimes incoherently about my love for solitude these days. I love having people around. But a lot of times, when the socialising has spilled over a greater part of 3 days, I need to retreat into my silent zone for atleast a couple of days to be civil to anyone again!

I've had a busy last few weeks. Nothing that is earth shattering, but some stuff that has kept me busy and on my toes.

I spent the whole of today at a pace I enjoyed. the walk with sage, at a time when school buses were still not around, and sage could roam about leashless. came back home to a good cup of coffee and scanned through both the newspapers. spent some me time, reading, listening to trance, shopping online for shoes! and playing with sage. Could not have asked for a better time with myself.

in the evening, some friends dropped in and i was actually happy to see them!

i miss being young (er)

its depressing when i read this quote "today is the oldest you have ever been and the youngest you will ever be again"

downright depressing.

i know i said that i am enjoying my thirties and that i have come into my own and all.... but today on a lazy sunday afternoon, as K and I sipped chilled beer and waited for the cooker to release the steam so we could attack my special chettinadu biryani, we watched Aayatha Ezhuthu.

the first time we watched it was at its release in 2004, when K and i were married for less than 6 months. i remember, we went to prasad's imax and were with another couple. i wore a white kurta, jeans, kolhapuris, jhumkis and dark kaajal and when i saw kareena kapoor, i was like, dude, that is my signature look!

why do i remember what i wore so vividly? because i still dress pretty much like that, but that damn kurta far from fits me anymore. middle age girth and all. also that in those days, K and i would be pretty happy to hand around theatres or loll about at home the entire weekend. not bothering about pantry supplies, vegetables, emails, presentations and other mundane stuff like proving your worth to the world.

today kind of felt weird, like a scene from gangs of wasseypur, when each period of time is marked by a movie of significance. i felt far from young... just saying... 

a story that needs to be told

i wrote this many months ago when the guwahati molesting happened... i have not had the courage to post it till now... but here it is
_________________________________________________________________________________

I'm reading an outpouring of blog posts which are reactions to the molestation of the 17 year old girl in Guwahati. My blood boiled when i saw the pictures and tho i clicked on the video, I did not have the courage to watch it. I cannot even imagine what it must have been like to be in the middle of that fucking depraved mob, to be groped and molested and to listen to yourself being spoken about in the utmost vulgar manner. The girl, no more than a child, will have to live with the scars of that evening forever. It will change the course of her life, and no matter how much anyone reassures her that she will forget, she will not. 

Sexual assault is nothing like anything you have ever experienced. I know for a fact that every woman, no matter where she comes from, has had to deal with some form of it through her lifetime. some more vulnerable than the others.

my own life has been a maze of protecting myself from the hands (at worst) and stares (at best) of men who prey on you, regardless of the situation and the place. it has changed so much in me, that i feel compelled to tell the story here. 

my mother and i were at a sweet shop one day when i was about 11. While she was talking to the shopkeeper, i noticed from the corner of my eye, a man on my left was shifting funnily and rocking himself. i turned to look and realised, he had his penis out, was looking at me and rubbing it against the display shelf of the shop masturbating. I called out to my mother and pointed at him. she yelled at him and took her slipper off, threatening to slipper him. I was traumatised for weeks and couldnt even step out of the house on my own except to go to school. 

I grew up realising quite quickly that the uncle who came home to teach me math on weekends, chose to come when my parents were taking a nap so that he could touch my breasts and rub himself against me. I dreaded those tution classes and within a few weeks, I realised that when i struggled to free myself from his clutches, it got worse, I told him I would tell my parents if he doesnt back off. my parents trusted him immensely and so he had free access to our house. he stopped teaching me, and since he was family, whenever I met him socially, my hair would stand up on end even if i was within 10 feet of him. 

I was 14 and travelling with my parents from bapatla, a town in coastal andhra to hyderabad. the train left bapatla around 11 p.m and we had RAC tickets which meant that our sleeping berths were in different places in the compartment. My father was extremely ill and I was a young independent girl. So i told my mother to sleep closer to my dad's berth and took the one that was the farthest. since it was past 11 p.m most people on the train were already asleep. there was one guy who was leering at me since we got onto the train. He knew i was not near my parents, I was on a middle berth a few seats away from him. he made a big pretense of having to go to the toilet a few times that night, each time to stand near my berth and touch me. At first he scratched the sole of my foot, I opened my eyes, but was so scared to say anything. Yet the feeling of being violated made me kick his hands off. This happened once more and the bastard got bolder. He reached for my chest which was under the sheet. i hit his hand off and sat up. he leered at me. I can still make out his face. I could not get over how angry I was. I was doing nothing, yet a random stranger thought it was ok for him to touch and grope me because he thought i was alone and helpless. He was well over 40, may have had children my age, but that didn't stop him. my heart was pounding and i was too agitated to sleep. I wanted to do something to the bastard but i was too scared. I sat up and walked slowly over to where he was sleeping,  I grabbed both his shoes from under his berth and chucked them out of the window of the moving train. the next morning when we were to get off at Hyderabad, i saw him frantically searching for his footwear, but he couldn't find it. It didn't make a difference to what had happened, but i was pleased that he lost something of value.  I lived out of home for studies and work for 5 years. and so train travel was unavoidable. to this day, i bristle when i have to travel by train. I can never sleep on a train and my senses are at their maximum awareness.

growing up in hyderabad, you learn quite quickly that eve teasing is a way of life and that you will be called out and spoken to in the most vulgar manner. when i moved to coimbatore to study, i dreaded what a town dominated by students, more than half of them being men would be like for a woman. To my utter shock, i was never groped at or touched or even spoken to by random men on the street. I was shocked that a woman can walk on the road or inside the campus without being picked on. I don't know how it is today, but 10 years ago, it was almost a culture shock to me. 

a girl can be molested anywhere. public and private places. a bus when you are trying to get off, a lab where you have gone for an x ray, a tailor's shop when you stand for the tailor to take your measurements, walking on the road, seated on a bus, even standing in line at a movie theatre. 

to this day, I watch closely when random people try to carry babies, small children at places like malls and restaurants. i do not allow anyone i know to hand over their kids to strangers however decent they appear to be. I do not talk to strangers on trains and buses and even auto wallahs will get directions in an aggressive stern voice, to deter them from trying anything funny. 

For most of my life, I thought I was in the wrong and was asking to be touched or commented upon because of the size of my chest. its only later that i realised that women regardless of their size or age are being preyed upon and it makes no difference what your body looks like. I've spent more than 15 years trying to shield myself from this. wearing oversized clothes, a bedsheet like dupatta covering my chest, men's shirts when i wore jeans, a jacket almost through the year if i didnt have a dupatta on....the list of defenses was endless. and i like most girls would find innovative ways to not garner any male attention to my body. holding a file or books against my chest or using my bag to shield myself as i walk through crowded places. if i dont have anything in my hands that i can use to cover my body, I permanently walk with my elbows out, ready to jab anyone who comes close. the sheer stress of having to shield and protect your body is something that only another woman can understand. there are times when my heart beats so quickly when i walk through a crowded place, that once i reach the safety of a car or a house or office or a store, i have to stop to catch my breath. 

and the way men think it is ok to not touch, but pass vulgar comments. It burns my ears, most times i shout back asking "repeat what you said you dog" in such a loud aggressive voice that they shrink off. The thing with these bastards is that they do all of this, knowing that in most cases, the shame that a woman feels is enough to shut her mouth and bear with this shit. when you call their bluff, most of them are too scared to do anything else and will back off. 

most people who know me, tell me that the first encounter had them wonder why i was so aggressive. I cannot explain to each one,that i developed it as a defense to protect myself. better to look like someone who should not be messed with than find out the tough way. It has altered my personality simply because it is years and years of building a wall around yourself which will keep you safe. i look people straight in the eye and give them nasty looks to keep them off if i suspect any misdemeanor. you have to appear tough to ward off lechers. It has made me so protective of my body that i do not trust anyone who comes too close. 

i am always ultra alert especially in places with high body contact. i once walked into a high end store during the afternoon when there were no other customers. A group of sales boys stood about 10 feet away from the entrance and were having a few laughs amongst themselves. I enterred, i felt they'd passed a comment on me, I stared and asked "yes, did you want to say something to me?" they were stunned, one guy said "no maam, nothing." not convinced, i pressed on... "no i think i heard you say something, say it again" by the look on their faces, I knew they weren't saying anything to me, but years of having men pass comments on you makes you like that. I walked past them, keeping up the act of being very annoyed, but i knew i was feeling embarrassed. that's how it changes you... trust no one. 

I walk alone at all times of the day and night in the streets around my house with my dog. I know that only an ass will try to touch me when i have such a large dog with me, but leches are men who are assholes. I walk sometimes even before the sun has risen and it is relatively dark. at night, most streets do not have lights. i shudder to think what may happen. I also feel extremely angry that i have to think of all of this before i step out to let my dog pee - what i am wearing, how much skin is showing, is the tee too tight, is the kurta see through....the list is endless. I find random men, well dressed, returning from an office too, will look and stare more than needed only because a woman is walking with a dog on a street. i could be walking back with shopping bags in both hands, defenseless if someone decides to touch me. i have found it useful to befriend people i encounter daily. the chowkidars will watch out for you if you call them bhaiyya, i smile and talk to the auto walahs at the stand waiting for customers, the man who runs the tea shop, the boy who sells milk. simply to tell any strangers who may see me for the first time, that this is my territory and that i am not to be messed with. sometimes you wish it wasn't so stressful. but when i think of that poor girl in guwahati, i smile another smile at a chowkidaar who may come to my rescue.