Thursday, January 19, 2017

Age is but a number!

It was a festive evening.  About 20 of us were gathered in a friend’s place to welcome the New Year together.  As is the norm, we surrounded ourselves with enormous amounts of food and beverages though I am not clear why since everyone but the Sankaran clan ate like a bird.  After the customary greeting at the host’s door involving air hugs and Colgate-worthy smiles, we all settled down for an evening of robust conversation.  It is an unwritten rule that once we cross the foyer, we go our separate ways – the macho men to the formal living room and the little women to the cozy family room.

There were new saree fashions on display in the room that evening which obviously required prompt admiration and in-depth analysis.  Boutique names were exchanged as well as new tailoring techniques in stitching blouses.  A few years ago, a ‘window’ in the back of the blouse was all the rage.  Bold women wore big, airy, wide-grilled window styles while the modest sported tiny windows at the top.  The ones with the tiny windows were never aerated enough but that is the price one pays for modesty, I suppose.  This year, it seemed ‘door in the back’ is the style to die for.  I am completely in awe of this new style.  It’s like magic.  In the front, you can see the blouse but go around, it disappears completely.  Exquisite fabrics basically held together by a couple of strands loosely tied with beautiful beads at the end.  One lusty sigh and it might all unravel like a badly kept secret. 

My experiences with tailors in India have not been good so far.  Every time I go on vacation, they seem to want more cloth than before and then give me a small handkerchief-like blouse in return.  It is like we speak in different languages.  Last visit, I stood before my new tailor and used my skill in playing charades to sign to her that I wanted a blouse that would cover all  the front and at least some of the back and the sides.  It was non-negotiable.  I put my foot down firmly and told her that I was NOT interested in doing any glamour scenes on the big screen and insisted that she used all the cloth that I bought.  From the look of the blouses she delivered, it seems my charades skill could use some work.   

As the evening stretched on, we realized that many of us were dog owners.  Nothing brings people close together than babies or dogs.  As most of us were out of the baby circuit, we bonded big time over our four-legged babies that night.  We went around the room and listened to each ‘mom’ proudly talk about her dog’s smart adventures.  Cute furry pictures were exchanged, tales of housetraining successes were shouted out.  We awwwed and ooohhhhed over each tale making every mom brim with pride.  

Alas, in all this drama, we neglected to notice one woman in the room feeling lost.  ‘I have a fish’ she blurted out suddenly.  Conversation stopped for a minute as all confused eyes turned to her.  She cleared her voice and said it again - ‘I have a fish’.  It took a minute for us to see that we were excluding her in the conversation and being the only woman there who owned a couple of dogs and a fish, I jumped in to set the score right.  She and her fish had the floor the next few minutes.  With slacked jaws, we listened to her concern that her fish might be constipated.  We tsk, tsked and offered to google for some solutions to her fish’s problem.  She basked in the attention and apologized for not having a picture of her fish to show us.  We wrapped up the ‘show and tell’ part of the evening with her promise that she will whatsapp the picture to us the very next day. 

Age is but a number.  4 or 40, we can still feel hurt when excluded.  We are happiest when we feel part of a whole and be included in a peer group.  There is so much love and friendship in our hearts that it is not hard to make room for one more, is it?

Sunday, January 1, 2017

Unprovoked confessions!

For a January 1st blog, this is not about my New Year resolution.  I am loyal to my one and only resolution ever - the elusive weight loss.  It is the one constant thing in my life that is overrun with changes.  So once again, I dusted my old resolution last week, went and enrolled in a nearby fitness center.  The front desk person recognized me from last Christmas and gave a warm smile making me feel at home. 

Okay, now moving on to something completely random.

I don’t know what is it about a kind face and a white piece of thread hovering over my eyebrows that makes my mouth flap non-stop in a verbal diarrhea.  The minute I lie on my beautician’s table, it is confession time at a catholic church.  At her simple ‘How are you Meena?’, the floodgates of my heart and soul open wide and dump on her truckloads of very personal and awkward information.  Poor woman!

Just last week, amid cans of wax and cotton strips, I found myself sharing my mother’s first cousin’s health problems with her.  When I told her in detail about the cousin’s recurring fungal toenail, there was such empathy and anguish in my beautician’s eyes.  If I didn’t know better, I would think that she knew my mom’s cousin personally. 

Next time I go to my physician’s office, I should remember to add her to the approved people on file to share my health information.  If you are wondering why, it is because short of letting her take my vitals, I update her thoroughly on my health status every visit.  I remember drawing an anatomy of a leg on a piece of paper one time to explain to her exactly where my leg pain was.  She didn’t mind that the drawing bore little resemblance to my real leg and looked more like a skinny sugarcane.  What was important was that she knew exactly where my pain was.

It is not just my health that I talk to her about.  We both have aging parents and that has strengthened our bond like gorilla glue.  From buying adult diapers to Bengay, we cover many colorful topics in that short window. 

I am not a secretive person by nature.  Holding on to secrets is practically impossible for me because my brain is not equipped to hold large amounts of data for long periods of time.  Having said that, I have surprised myself many times on my beautician’s table by talking about things that I didn’t know were stored in my brain.  For her every cheerful ‘so what’s new Meena?’, something very old will surface from my subconscious and fall right into her very patient ears.   

She must meet about 40 to 50 women in a day’s work.  Imagine the amount of useless information that gets dumped on her every day.  Wow!  If I were her, I will probably hand out ‘self-adhesive plasters’ for the mouth before admitting any clients in.  She is bigger than me, I must admit, though only in a figure of speech.

If you have never shaped your eyebrows, I want to assure you that it can be a very cathartic experience.  After a short session on her table, I walk out feeling cleansed in more ways than one.  Not sold yet?  Here is a better reason.  It is the most economical way to get a psych consultation and/or a counselling session.  J

If you have read through the above post, obviously, you are either a friend or family.  Who else will put up with my foolishness? I look forward to riding the next fun roller coaster year with all of you.  May you all have many opportunities to LOL and ROFTL in 2017.  Happy New Year everyone!

Here is wishing for another year filled with many things fun, ridiculous and foolish.  

Tuesday, November 1, 2016

Ready to vote?

Presidential election is next Tuesday in the US.  The date is tattooed in my heart and drilled in to my brain.  I may forget to buy milk at the grocery store this week but I won’t forget what is at stake come next Tuesday.  Thanks to my friends on social media educating me every day, I have never been more politically aware than I am today.   

Guess where I am going with this?  Probably not. 

I have been looking for a different career lately.  I change careers every decade in case you are wondering.  Not that I didn’t enjoy poring over numbers all day long or teaching music to lovely children but I do like to shock my brain awake every now and then with a challenge.  I looked at sports for a while but that was a dead end for me what with my body coming apart at the seams like a worn-out shirt.  With its high potential for drama and low need for a strong physique, national politics seems to be the winner this time.

After careful study of the two major presidential candidates of this election, I find that I have all the qualifications required to run for President.  What I lack, I am sure I will learn.  While both candidates fascinate me to no end, Republican candidate Mr. Trump is the delicious icing on my new career cake. 

A study of this man is such an education.  His rise from business to politics seems to be based primarily on controversies.  How delightful!  It gives me such hope.  Apparently, I don’t need leadership or intelligence or morality or even knowledge of global affairs.  That is such a relief because I suck sideways on history. 

Please do bear in mind while you read the following that I am an amateur in Politics still learning my ways.  Here is what I think a Republican party candidate needs to bring to the table to be nominated as President.

To qualify, one must:

1.   Say outrageously insulting things about women and minorities, preferably on alternative days.  This will help bring more supporters out from under the rock every day where they are hiding and help keep the Press focused on your one-of-a-kind mouth. 

I admit that insulting people is not my strong point but with time, I believe I can learn to do this.  With an awesome tutor like Mr. Trump out there, I don’t see how I can fail.  If I promise to practice every day, will you endorse me next time around Mr. Trump?

2.   Be an expert at slinging mud at their opponent because, come on, who will respect a President that doesn’t spew sewage at his or her opponent?  By far, this seems to be the one quality that is most cherished by the GOP candidate and his supporters. 

By the way, I am truly in awe of Mr. Trump’s usage of his twitter account to accomplish this.  Every day, without fail, he flings mud or worse at Mrs. Clinton using pithy sentences on twitter.   I don’t know if I’ll ever be as good at it as him but it will not be because I didn’t try.   In high school, I once literally threw a ball of mud on a nasty girl after monsoon rains.  I do have experience in this.

3.   Know how to talk the big talk.  Nothing that must make sense logically or financially only that it should sound big and important.  Like our Mr. Trump’s idea of building a big wall in our borders to keep the bad neighbors from walking in illegally.  Oh, wow!  That does sound very grand and big.  No wonder so many people love him and want him in the White House for 4 years leading us.  What a leader indeed! 

If I want to have any chance of running a successful campaign like our Mr. Trump, I must be smart and find something big like his wall idea to make ‘America great again’.  Otherwise, it will all be hopeless and come to nothing. 

The best strategy that I feel will help convince people to vote for me is to use the 'race' card generously.  When talk of racism comes and I hear heated debates of white versus black, I do feel left out.  Brown matters too, you know. 

If I promise to brainstorm and come with an equally endearing campaign like our Mr. Trump, hope I can get on the ticket next time around.   Is it so wrong to want to be on national TV and participate in the most-televised debates ever where I can call people names publicly and know that no one will sue me? 

Ready to vote?