The Sea, the scar and the gift of Life!

THE SEA , THE SCAR AND THE GIFT OF LIFE,!

It's been ten years since the dreaded waves hit! While life has gone on and lot has happened since, mostly good, any thought or talk of the Tsunami always brings with it thoughts of .. What if?? Every time I look at the sea ..every single time in the last Ten years I have never escaped thinking of the day when we were in Hikkadua, Sri Lanka ..with  family to celebrate my husbands 50 th, ..our resort was devastated  by the waves that crashed into our lives! The waves may have receded but the destruction they caused was not to property and life alone.. The waves have etched themselves indelibly in my mind and heart and I am sure in all of us who were there that day.. Ten years ago!
Every time I see waves I cannot but recall the swell of the sea , gradually , ominously (in perspective) building up while we were enjoying a leisurely breakfast on the beach, talking about friends, relatives, world affairs and ironically even about the tsunami scare in Australia the newspapers had reported about..not knowing that in a matter of minutes we would be living that experience.
I can never forget the sound of the Tsunami waves made as they crashed into our lives! So much so that every time a heavy duty fan starts up I get startled and go back to that day.
I can never forget the muddy, grimy, grey almost opaque colour of the water that rushed into our room and with vicious force uprooted furniture, luggage and hurled us up to the ceiling.. Clutching on to sinking pieces of furniture to stay afloat.
I can never forget the feel of the water..gritty , slimy, oily, with so much of floating stuff in it that when we were trying to swim to the other side of the room to try and get out, our feet kept getting entangled in...well no one knows what!!
I can never forget the vision and the feel and the sound of the wave as it receded from our room, sucking out furniture, our luggage, luckily leaving back the heavy bed floating as it was too big to be sucked out of the bay windows... Giving us a lifeline to hold on to .. To avoid being pulled into the sea and become yet another number in the huge list of casualties.
I can never forget the sharp pain I felt on my arm.. too trivial at that time, but a wound the scar of which I still carry on my left arm..
That to me is the most potent reminder of how easily it all could have ended..a scar that keeps me ever thankful for being alive.. The difference between life and death is a nano second.. And during the Tsunami I experienced it!!
Ten years back ,it took me almost twenty days to be able to sleep ,so haunted was I by the thoughts of what could have been!! I then needed to purge or exorcise the demons out of my mind... It all came pouring out in the way I know best...in words.

Thoughts of destruction haunt me,
The spectre of death seems within my grasp.
The mind floods with dark memories,
Like the muddy churning of the sea..

I see death flashing before my eyes.
The relentless shutter comes crashing down
Imprisoning the torturing emotions,
Trapping the haunting sound of cries.

Fears about loved ones suffocate me,
Holding my heart in a strong tightening vice.
Visions of deep despair float by,
Emotions of dread will not let be.

I need to escape from the strife,
When will the drowning darkness release me?
When can I breathe fresh air,
I need to get on with my life.

That was ten years ago. Time is a wonderful healer.. But every time I see the sea, glance at my scar, I always do think of what could have been... But almost immediately I also thing of what is and how lucky I am  to be alive and having got a second life and my scar ...a gift specially for me from the sea!!

HOW DARE THEY.

HOW DARE THEY !! 


              This month marks the tenth year Anniversary of the dreaded Tsunami that took hundreds of lives and created havoc and mayhem in the lives of thousands of people who lived or had visited the coastal areas during the Christmas break. We , the three of us and seven family members were at Sri Lanka when the dreaded waves crashed into our resort and annihilated the property. We were incredibly lucky and, as my husband stated to a friend... Ten of us went and ten of us returned!! That expressed a wealth of gratitude to call it God or any Force or even Nature for having spared all of us! Though time has blunted , to some extent the 'punch in the solar plexus ' raw wave of sheer terror of the experience, I can never forget the utter fear and dread we felt as we could not immediately locate our daughter, Shruti! It is a feeling that will remain with me all my life and no words can describe the unadulterated relief and joy of finding her safe, with her grandmother, aunts, uncle and cousins !!
         It took me months to heal and soothe the trauma of the experience. The sea became my adversary and I internally berated Nature for being so heartless and ruthless.. It took me time to realise that Nature did not have a heart, a soul or any other emotion that singled out a human being from the rest of creation. It was a force, a law ,as it were, into itself... We harm it, it fights back not discriminating between the innocents and the perpetrators! It can be more destructive than an army but it does not discriminate!! Nature can flatten out your life but then it is a external entity we have no control over.

         What, however , has been consuming me the last few days was the mindless massacre of innocents in Peshawar... Why?? What did the poor children do to deserve being mowed down by terrorists?? What did the parents of the children do to deserve to feel the sheer grief at the loss of their children?? Many of my friends have written about it, expressed their angst at this inhuman dastardly act of a few who DARED to call it collateral damage and dared to justify their actions and dared to take credit for the slaughter.. 
    I was not able to find words to express the sheer rage that built up inside me.. The empathy I felt with the poor parents of those unfortunate children. I know what I felt ten years ago when for all of fifteen minutes I could not find my daughter after the waves hit. I can only think of how much grief they must be feeling knowing that they sent their children off to school with hope for their future.. Made plans for the rest of the day and the rest of their lives.. Only to have it all taken away by lowlife scum who DARE to presume logic in their actions. And I am also wild at all those who dare to express that because it has happened across the border it was bound to happen and that now they will realise what it is to be victims of terror!! How can humans be so callous and still presume that they have the right to be called human!

     My rants may just remain that !  Rants..  But it is time we realise that we are humans with the privileges of heart, mind, intelligence, and soul ! We cannot act as though we are not accountable! No one gives us the mandate to destroy life or property of others!
     A tsunami cannot be explained !! Such acts of terror Should Not Be Explained away!! 

NONE OF US HAVE THE RIGHT TO PRESUME OUR IDEOLOGY  OR BELIEFS OR RELIGION GIVES US THE AUTHORITY TO TAKE THE LIVES OF INNOCENTS,!!
R.I.P.   Little ones ... My heart bleeds for you!!

NOW YOU DONT SEE IT.

Once upon a time , not so very long long ago I used to groggily reach for my newspaper in the morning and begin what I called my ritual... A quick look at the headlines of The Hindu, turn to the sports page to glance at the happenings in the world of cricket,football, tennis, F1 racing. That done I would glance at the happenings and Editorial page. Then I would turn my attention to 2 other newspapers- The Indian Express and the Times Of India and repeat the same ritual. One of these newspapers would always be my loo companion while one was for my morning cuppa!

Newspaper reading brought with it a whole sensory experience with the smell,  the touch and the feel of the paper as much an experience as the matter it communicated. 

Today I am an extremely frustrated reader! What greets me in the morning is not the news but the assinine smile of a 20 something trying to sell me -- who cares what! Goodwill is certainly not one of them.
It all began innocuously enough. It was a big ad in the front page. Well, I did not like it but it was ok.. They had to sell papers and the ad revenue helped them. I consoled myself with the thought that otherwise I would be required to shell out more.. But it did not stop there! The front page ads became larger and larger, like a pimple on a poor teenagers face till it was forcing my eyes to morbidly focus only on -to me it's obscene- the ad. It really does not matter what the ad is about. It is a pretender, taking away from something I hold sacred- my news.

This ad phenomena seems to have become an universal disease with all the news papers succumbing to the lure of the lucre.. To think that earlier whenever I used to travel abroad I used to taken aback at a news format that allowed more ad gibberish and much less substance_ so much so that I had to hunt hard for a scrap of news. Today the news empire has struck back and our Indian publications have joined the merry band of sell outs!!

Well, I know we live in a commercial world and all need to serve the money God's. .But a sincere appeal _ please, please give me back my old newspapers! Let me connect to the world in my own way and not be brainwashed by about what jewellery to buy or what coffee to drink. 

I do not want to defect to digital reading..so please do not force me!!

OF LISTS AND LOVE AFFAIRS!

Of lists and love affairs!!

I have been tagged by a few people to put up a list of ten books that have influenced me in any way. Oh boy! Did the create the biggest conflict in my mind..TEN books?? Are you kidding?? How could I encapsulate  almost fifty years of reading into a list of  a measly ten.. I did start.. But soon started feelin so guilty.. If I included one book I could almost feel the accusatory stare of another book, almost to say... How could you leave me out!! Wow!! I stopped after a while as I started to feel like a two.. three or even multiple timing woman who is trying to juggle many lovers!!! That is when it just dawned on me .... Books have been the longest standing love affair(s) of my life. And each book a new affair, a new adventure which has always brought with it hours of joy, involvement and left me feeling happy, and satisfied- but always wanting more!

My real initiation into this magic world began when I read The Sea Of Adventure by Enid Blyton. Not the best of her books but for me it opened up a 'brave New world' ... The entire series of Famous Five, Secret Seven, Mallory Tower,st. Claires and well ALL the books written by her followed. Stepped into the fabulous English countryside, a world of scones, preserves and ...even the bread and cheese was like a gourmet meal. The books always left me hungry for more.... Food and books!!
The Nancy Drew series, The Hardy Boys series, Billy Bunter  adventures all followed... The only consistent factor being that once I started on one , would not rest until I had read them all!!

The next phase of involvement began with Georgette Heyers, Earle Stanley Gardener, Alistair Maclean and the I can read them 100 times and not get bored Agatha Christie and PGWodehouse.. It brought in intrigue , humour, legal drama and the entry into the most wonderful wordscapes. I, then discovered the whacky wonderfully wicked and delightful world of William through Richmal Cromptons William series.....and so great was/is my love that ,at a later date, I bought all the William books. That was not all.. I got involved with the complicatedly complex mind maze of Sherlock Holmes, was mesmerised by the lonely but magnetic heroes of Ann Rynd. Which in turn turned me to the classics... Jane Eyre, novels of Jane Austen, Bronte sisters, Charles Dickens..... Too, too many to list out. That is why it is such a trauma to make a list..

I realised that it did not matter what I read. From the lowly Mills and Boons to the exalted world of Greek Tragedies , I never discriminated. Each on of my 'affairs' brought something special to my life and I will be eternally grateful to them for it. Books and reading for me have always been more of a sensory experience! The smell of books,fresh and musty, the touch of pages turning and the decadence of a stack of unread books, the visual delight of the different fonts, the sound of music as I picked up and put down a book..... It was and is one of the most all encompassing experiences!
Reading has always consumed me. A book in my hand and anyone can get me to do just about anything... As long as I continued to read!!

Over the years, I realise that my books and I have fallen into a comfortable routine - like old lovers. There is no longer the urgency to spend every minute with a book..there is enough time for other interests and loves.. There are always a stack of unread books with me... It is my silent companion, never demanding, never intrusive and always there when I need to de stress and escape..

So my friends who have tagged me in the book list challenge, this post is especially for you. And Ananth, my love, thank you for never competing and letting me have forever, my first, sweet, sweet love!!

Looking through the Warped Glass

Looking through the Warped Glass!

Reading the article 'Throw like a girl' by Eric Anthamatten got me thinking of the number of times all of us, women and men, have fallen prey to stereotypes and preconceived notions.   How often as a child I was rebuked by my grandmom about the perceived lack of decorum in the way I sat, told about not sitting very close to a boy while we were playing, not laughing too loudly... Mind you this was during our yearly visits to Madras or the time she used to visit and I was all of 7/8 years old. Even though I was brought up in a very liberal home, my father, despairing of what he thought was my very masculine walk, asked me to walk behind my mother so that I could emulate her ' feminine' walk. He, though never saw or treated me differently than my brother, also was a victim to gender stereotyping without even realising it.
The nuns from my school were always trying to instil in us the 'proper' habits.. Sit with legs together, hands must be on your knees, smile but do not grin,laughing loudly is a sign of bad upbringing!! Gosh!! All the nuns I was taught by would be truly and thoroughly horrified by me today.
Sports has never been free of this divide. During the days when Martina Navratilova was knocking the stuffing out of her opponents many, especially men, when they condescended to comment about women in a 'mans' game, preferred Christ Evert as she was pretty,dainty and showed off pretty lacy panties when she played, while Martina was muscly, tough and played strong. The sad part is that when everyone stereotyped, they were doing gross injustice not only to Navratilova but also to Christ Evert, who far all her daintiness played a wonderful game!! Sad she will be remembered as the player in the lace panties!
At work too it is not very different, even though all of us get into the 'ostrich' syndrome of pretending all is well. Subtle and not at all subtle notions are applied in the way women are treated. It's either downright writing off a women as an intellectual lightweight or it is the condescending 'little woman' treatment. When will we ever learn to treat each person as that person and not superimpose our ideas of what the person should be and stop either vilifying or deifying.
What is it in us that we get insecure if we cannot slot a person into a pre prepared mould. A woman does not like to cook? What women behaves like that!! A guy likes to cook? Must be gay! And then look at our advertisements. There is so much analysis about the recent Airtel or Aircel ad where a women boss is shown going home and cooking for her husband. Reactions from women and men astounded me. Every reaction came from a position of what was perceived as the designated roles! It was just an ad, a clever one at that. Let us worry about child abuse, young girls being tortured, and many other important issues. Not about whether the women in the ad should have cooked or not!
Where does this labelling stop?? A short haired women should be drinking . If she drinks she should be a non vegetarian . If she is modern she will not cook.Because she does not cook her family must be either starving or unhealthy. When do we stop looking at people through gender imposed glasses?
I think it is time to stop this nonsense!! LET PEOPLE BE!!
I leave you with another one of my little poems written around 25 years ago... Much before Nike thought of this tag line...
                                  I am what I am.
                                  I cannot be
                                  what you want
                                  me to be.

                                  Leave me as I am.
                                  I cannot be,
                                  your image,
                                  living as me.

Stop Stereotyping! Leave be!

And the Mask goes On!

I am not predictable. I have been known to speak the most unexpected, dress ' differently', and my make up and accessories are ,to put it mildly, stated. One  constant aspect, however, has been the fact that I always have my make on..whenever I step out of my home..and sometimes even at home.

In fact my friends state that make up, and that too the lipstick is my trade mark feature! My daughter always says that her early memories of me are always of the 'lipsticked' me!

When I think of when my love affair with lipstick started , I realise that it was when I started working.... Way back in 1981. Out of college, the whole world in front of me, I embarked on my career journey and on the first day at work I instinctively picked up that innocuous looking capsule- lipstick. I have never been without one..errr few...actually many,many of them since.
Putting on my shrink cap , I have tried to think about the reasons for this need to have my make up on. Is it vanity? No.. Not really. Is it the need to be different( let me tell you not many folks, especially of my vintage, use make up regularly?..that's not it too. What then is the reason??

I had a 'Eureka' moments of sorts, the other day when I happened to glance at one of my - almost forgotten I had written them- poems.Called  The Mask the poem expresses the need to put on and take off the 'mask'. That is probably the reason why as an inherently very private, in my own thoughts sort of person I felt the need to put on that 'mask' aka makeup, to help cope and to help me be that 'outside' person.

I am not sure however, whether the same subconscious reasons are relevant anymore. I love my make up, my lipsticks, and putting on ,what I call my 'face'. I have come to love and to enjoy my public persona and to a large extent have internalised it. Today my make up and especially my lipsticks are me!!

It was not always a easy journey as I had expressed in my poem many years ago. Today I have the courage and confidence to let you peek into my real world.. Conflicts, contradictions and of course the 'game' face.

                  

                  Smiling and drifting

                  Laughing and dancing,

                  Twirling without a care.

                  Getting into a whirlpool,

                  Pulled into the abyss,

                  I gasp for air.

                  Pulling and tearing,

                  Grasping and gasping

                   I writhe in pain.

                   Tear out the facade,

                   Wipe away the blood,

                   And....see me again.

And I do see me. That is all that matters!

The jury is out!

Sipping a cup of coffee on a Saturday morning, my husband just thought out loud-- why does not someone start a newspaper on an online magazine ONLY highlighting women's issues?? That set me on a thought stream... But why aren't there any, any such forums for expression??? Maybe there are.. But not many know about them.... Then I wondered why not?? Because there is no single issue to unite all of us!! There is no commonality in our experiences that is strong enough to make us bond!! Wait... What crap am I talking?? Of course there are issues the each and every one of us face.. But do not have the time, energy,will or inclination to articulate. And then comes the most used line.. How does it matter??
I realise that I am guilty of the greatest hypocrisy! Pretending that all was hunky dory with my situation! It is NOT! I realise that I do want to express certain issues.. at least put it out there for all to react to.
I start with my Body... Is it truly mine?? I take care of it, clothe it, adorn it,keep it in fine fettle! But for what and for whom? My body is seen as a vessel for procreation, a form for release of sexual urges( hard wired into the male DNA we are told) ,a robotic machine for taking on the chores, an ATM in the case of millions of women who work , a tool to sell anything from a faucet to a Jet engine, above all the focus of the basic as well as kinky fantasy of 53% of our population.
Is it truly mine??? What control do I have over it?? I can protect it... Be careful not to get molested or raped, shrink into myself to avoid getting groped..... But what can I do about what some one else is thinking, fantasising, lascivating, ??
Do I really have control over my body when I am told that the onus on not tempting men is solely on ME?... I may be fully and modestly clothed but I still cannot stop men from mentally stripping and molesting me.... And acting on it the minute they get a chance!!
What control do I have over my body when I am like a ticking trigger to , in a trice turn men into bestial lowlife forms just because they can...and in many cases get to act on such urges..
So what do women do?? I pose a counter to my husband---- is it women who really need to talk about these issues or is it the men.. The jury is out!!!