Bollywood's Version of Musicians

I've lost count of the number of Bollywood movies that have portrayed musicians as angst ridden and wanting to sacrifice their passion for family, for the woman they love and are drunk all the time, with major bad boy problems.

Where are these men? I've never met them. Or perhaps, my late husband had it easy. He didn't have to be angst ridden or self-sacrificing. All he had to do was ask, "Will you be my girlfriend, if I share my zinger burger and KFC bucket with you?" 

I was sold. I knew then this was the man I'd marry. Prior to the KFC deal, he got me a dozen chocolate donut balls and perhaps will I ate, he schemed. 

Satisfy my hunger and it's easy to slip into my life and into my good books. I've made peace with the worst of enemies and bosses, over a good hearty meal. All is immediately forgotten! Of course, you have to be a slightly nice person too and then we're in business.

Coming back to the angst ridden musician boyfriend now, I scratch my head each time I watch any of those over-the-top, exaggerated, melodramatic Bollywood movies. What a nightmare to have a man or even a friend like that in your life.

Therapy bro, therapy! All that anger and breaking guitars will do you no good. It's high time movies start depicting some semblance to the real world. 

Love and sunshine and music is all well and fine. But respect, having a good time and being able to truly be youself is the hallmark of a great friendship and relationship. 

Beasts that can be turned into honourable men don't exist. And there's no need for you to be Belle if you're a woman. Just be your authentic self, and the right crowd will find you.  

Almost 40 Syndrome

Sleep so thin,

It definitely doesn't feel like a win,

Headache so pounding,

Even the second hand on my clock is resounding,

No one warned me that my body would act up,

Even if I don't slip-up,

My work and workout routine,

Make my sleep look like a crime scene,

There's no rest in sight,

However much I toss and turn and fight,

My 8 hour sleep is no where in sight,

My body feels like it's on constant fight or flight,

Off to bed I go,

Before my workday hits me on the face like a rough blow,

Almost 40 is not so bright afterall,

A turtle doing a slow crawl,

Suddenly looks faster than me,

Good night for now, inside my bed I shall burrow and flee.

Raising Gen Alpha

My Gen Alpha villain is wearing me down. Woman down, I repeat, woman down! What started with sweet baby chatter has turned into a full blown World War 3. The war of words are relentless. The pranks are never ending and the dark humour is so dark, I sometimes wonder if I've spawned him with the devil himself.

But just as I wonder if I should sip on another cup of hot chocolate to calm down or be thrown into a mental asylum, he brings his googly-eyed face two centimetres away from mine and cups my face inside his sticky baby hands. 

Before I can process what's really happening he envelops me in a bony little hug and says, "A hug can solve everything." This, after an entire day of screaming me down because I cooked a meal for the family and spoke to my mother for an extra two seconds more. 

Sometimes I wonder whether he's this attention seeking because he's an only child and then I observe other children at the airport older than him, his age and younger, who are much worse behaved than him. Shaking airport installations, dancing around in circles so frantically that the water bottle around their tiny necks, smack into passersby and then there are the flying wonders, who run faster than the Flash, away from their parents and into another galaxy.

This terrible behaviour displayed by other tiny humans, gives me so much hope for the future. I am not alone in my misery and tiny devils exist everywhere.

So the feeling of turning into the maniacal Joker one day mixed with wanting to be a sensible Harley Quinn (while she was still the Joker's therapist of course), is completely normal.

My little chaos is a normal Gen Alpha villain and I'm a sane Millennial who was raised with an occassional beating and way too many mutta puffs along with potloads of over-sweetned Rasna. I'm sure I was a much nicer and very well behaved child. I don't want to verify this very truthful fact with my mother or my late grandparents now.

I haven't passed on this hideously naughty behaviour and this unending chattering mouth to my child. No! These are not my genes. I simply refuse.

Gentle parenting is so wonderful on paper, but it's simply impossible to follow with this hyper-online generation raised by YouTube shots and Minecraft. 

We've got this my fellow Millennial parents. We will survive, no matter what. Here's to drinking more cups of hot chocolate to remain sane. Just another decade more to go and hopefully they'll go to college on another planet, while we sip on cocktails on a remote untraceable island and enjoy an early retirement. 

The Healing Mountain Air

I met a good friend recently who was travelling to the Philippines after an Everest Base Camp trek. He looked flushed and tired after the gruelling challenge and mentioned suddenly about how he'd miss his ex on the beaches of Philippines, as they had done that travel together when they were a couple.

I smiled at him and nodded. Truth be told, the entire world reminds me of my late husband, but it's been 5 years for me and I've learnt to live alone. 

I've created fresh memories in all the places that remind me of him, with someone even better - my son. The chaos and the hysteria he brings into my life makes me forget all the trauma and grief my young husband's abrupt passing brought me.

Picking myself back up and quickly building a life for us came to me like second skin, thanks to the years of hardwork my late husband had displayed. 14 years of being with just one man, probably made me a bit like him, whether I'd like to admit it or not.

He passed on his work ethic and drive to do better in life with his passing. To continue to live a good life he was trying to create for our family, has been my only goal, ever since. 

And here we are, little chaos and I, 5 years later visiting my parent's holiday home in Ooty. When I first came here, I was a wife and now I'm a mother. There are 100 places like this all over the world, which leave me with a sense of peace because I know we're at peace as a family.

We've moved on respectfully, no longer holding onto the past like it's a painful secret to be buried. We once knew a brilliant man and now we're well on our way to continue leading a life of integrity and honesty.

The memories can flash as much as they want in my head, but none of it hurts anymore. So mountains, beaches and expensive brands, no longer trigger me. I am my own person. So much more than just a widow and somebody's wife. 

Onwards and upwards! Here's to creating fresh memories all over the world.

My Devil Did Not Wear Prada

My Devil probably wore Hush Puppies or an even cheaper Bata brand. It was the summer of 2016, I was a not so blue-eyed budding PR professional. And I had picked up a role with a reputed advertising giant's PR division.

The team was lean with just two people on-board. My boss who I would learn very quickly was a Devil without a fat enough wallet to buy better shoes. And the other team member was a very pleasantly plump and very cheerful young girl, who was probably my age or younger. She tried her best to make me feel at home and I still remember her gorgeous toothy smile and bouncy curls. 

Coming back to my Devil now. He had a problem with my face, my clothes, my shoes and my handbag. And then I realised he was probably just pissed because I looked prettier than him. A word more than him during a client meeting - I would get a glare. Another two - yet another acidic glare. And as soon as the client would leave, he would turn around and hurl a verbal diarrhea of abuses at me. 

I didn't let down either. I threw it all back at him with the same velocity and quit on the very same day without another job in hand. In hindsight, I'm grateful for the experience because it has taught me patience and tolerance. 

That shitty boss made me realise that you have to respect your team, however senior or junior they are. Everyone works differently and you have to respect that as well.

Lastly, you don't have to tolerate a toxic work culture however desperate you are to get a new job. 

And over the past 16 years, I've met many Devils. The ones who let you be your chatty, confident self and empower you are the ones you turn to for the rest of your life. And the devils are unforgettable as well, in their own negative way. Choose to be a good mix of both and you'll be respected as a good leader and teammate. 

Let's keep fighting the good fight and live a little beyond the boardroom as well. 

How Our Emotions Can Take Charge of Our Body

This morning was a classic example of how our subsconcious emotions can take over our bodily functions fully, without us even realising it. I had a bit of a tricky day at work yesterday and I down-played it as usual considering it a part and parcel of being a working professional.

By night, I kept tossing and turning in bed. And I had no idea why. I woke up before my 6am alarm rang and I wheezed through my workout with my trainer. She chuckled watching me huff and puff like a rusty train engine. It was when she asked me what really happened, that I opened up about my work day.

She tut-tutted and made me understand that the burden of my mind, was taking a toll on my brisk morning workout. Two sets of mountain climbing later, I just had to sit down, there was no third set today. 

I couldn't plank and I couldn't squat without feeling breathless. I couldn't make any conversation with her by the end of the hour and simply sat down gripping a bottle of water tightly. She told me to drink some electrolytes and get on with my day.

Yet another classic example of how emotions take over our body, without us even realising it. You can downplay major incidents and pretend to be easy-breezy as much as you want to, but your subconscious always takes over. 

All you can do is allow those feelings to pass, take a couple of deep breaths, eat a date or two and keep moving forward.

Today is a new day and I'm ready to take on the good, the bad, the ugly and everything in between. 

Managing Expectations

My therapist from 5 years ago told me that as an individual I'm hyper-independent. That was my first and last therapy session honestly. Some great insights during those sessions and to some extent it helps me manage my emotions better even today.

There's childhood trauma and there's adulthood trauma. The combination of one or two of these incidents, is what makes us a functioning adult. 

I've learnt slowly and painfully over time that most people cannot be trusted. Idolising them, fantasising about them or putting them on a pedestal is simply our own doing. Therefore, it's best to not have any expectations from anyone.

Be the good person that you are and give without expectations. The right crowd will stay and the wrong ones will automatically filter themselves out from your life. No one is good or bad as people. We all have our shades of grey.

Treat each person who slips away as a lesson and reflect on what you could or could not have done better and just let it go. All you can do is try and give it your best shot. 

It's not hard to give without expectations as long as you understand well that it may or may not be reciprocated. If it's not reciprocated, simply move on. Don't feel sorry for yourself or blame them or the situation. 

I think I've definitely come a long way emotionally as a person over the years. Instead of wailing and wasting my energy crying buckets of tears, I simply move on. What else can you do? Peace of mind is important at all times as opposed to a fantasy that may or may not come true.

Most of all, time truly is the best healer. Time combined with patience works absolute wonders. In the end, everything will turn out alright. If not, to quote my favourite Shahrukh Khan dialogue, "Picture abhi baaki hai mere dost."

The Positive Force That is Shina

I've lost track of the number of blogs I've written about Shina in the past 4.5 years. She's seen my newly-widowed, depressed phase. She's seen me having self doubts and jolted me out of it. She's seen me meeting "interesting people" over the years and her slippers are already out, waiting to whack me on the head.

She has propelled me to live and laugh. She has reminded me constantly that I have a long life ahead of me and it should be lived meaningfully. 

There are no dull moments with Shina, starting with her infectious laughter to her no-nonsense attitude. Your tears will instantly dry up around her and your dark thoughts turn from existential crisis to measurable long-term goals.

For me, Shina is a force of nature. Riaan is a big fan as well. All my video and audio calls with her via Teams and WhatsApp have been intercepted by him. 

Having one Shina in your life is better than having an army of friends who blip in and out of your life. It's not like we talk everyday or hangout every weekend. But the once a month check-ins are enough to pick up from where we left off.

Movie dates, play dates and an impromptu out of station trip plan, everything happens in a jiffy with those monthly check-ins. 

Shina has empowered me personally, professionally and is not shy to say things as they are. She's the reality check that everyone needs in their life. 

Looking 20 at 40

I've had this unreasonable fantasy ever since I hit my mid 20s, that I must look 20 by the time I hit 40. The landmark birthday is 8 months away and it's safe to say, I definitely do not look 20 and I'm surprisingly not sad about it.

What my one white hair and Buddha like patience (I'm a single mum to a very verbose 7 year old, so yes I do have Buddha like patience) has taught me is that it's great to be almost 40.

I'm more confident in my skin, I take myself out on solo dates, I eat and buy whatever I want without thinking twice. Almost 40, never looked better. 

Perhaps I need to have a little more of a life beyond work and raising a child. All in due time though. There's a time for play and there's a time for work. My 70 year old parents are case in point. They're a classic example of a hardworking middle class couple, who slowly made their way up the the socio-economic ladder and now they only have time for holidays and partying.

Each time I talk about taking an early retirement with my father, he scrunches up his nose in disgust, like I'm still in the pits of poverty. I chuckle and re-assure him, that I'm his stubborn offspring afterall, so I'll do exactly what I want and not what he has envisioned for my life. 

To be almost 40 and to have parents who still say "no", for every life decision of mine, starting with my choice of hair colour, is definitely a blessing. To have people who nit-pick and nag is a gift. We must treasure it for as long as it lasts.

While I may not have Korean glass skin, instead I'm naturally gifted with a nice double-chin, thanks to my wonderful genetics, it's still safe to say, life has never looked better at almost 40.

Here's to another couple of decades of ageing gracefully. Bring on the grey-hairs and a more pronounced double-chin, I'm absolutely ready for it!

Empower Yourself

My 7 year old wants to be an electronics teacher when he grows up. I looked him straight in the face and told him, he can grow up to be absolutely anything he has wants, as long as he empowers himself.

To walk away from rooms and tables that disrespect you, is something that you have to earn. And that comes with nothing but hardwork. Put your head down and keep working. Be the best electronics teacher the world has seen.

He nodded his head and blinked at me twice with his googly eyes and said, "Okay mumma." To walk away from gossip mongers and rooms that drain you of your energy is something that must come to everyone like second skin.

Learn, upskill and keep an open mind. Progress is quiet. It's not found in rooms filled with loud music and 100 people grinding next to each other. 

The occasional noise and hysteria is perfectly fine to break some steam. However, if it's a lifestyle and you live from one party to the next, that's a problem.

You're born alone and you die alone. And when the endgame happens, ensure that you leave behind a legacy for your children and the next generation.

Inspire them so much that they feel like getting a tatoo dedicated to you, when they're lost. My late grandfather's anchor tattoo on my arm is case in point. He was a quiet man with a handful of friends. I'm so proud of the legacy he has left behind. A 10 minute conversation involving him, with any new person I meet, happens automatically. 

Lead, not follow. Inspire, don't waste your time gossiping and comparing your life to others. Each one is on their own path. Let them be and keep your focus on. 

To quote Robert Frost, "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference."

Laryngitis Inflicted Peace

Two days since I lost my voice to laryngitis and life has never felt more peaceful. 48 hours of not uttering a single word out of my mouth. That's when you truly evolve into a good communicator. You're forced to listen and simply blink in response. 

Two days of vegetating in my parental home and I understand the restlessness of retired folks. It's peaceful yet boring. No deadlines to meet, no documents to work on and definitely no 7 year old boy to fight with. Complete and total silence, almost blissful.

I say almost blissful because how much OTT content can a human being watch in a day? After a point that becomes monotonous and dull too.

Hats off to stay at home mums, retired folks and anyone else who chooses to voluntarily stay at home. It's harder than it looks.

I can probably pull off one more day of silence and sleep, after that my fingers and brain will definitely begin to twitch again.

Strange how we feel guilty for taking a day off even when when we fall sick, it's probably the conditioning of the great Indian rat race that we've been told to keep running in, until the day we die.