Team Iron Man

I recently met someone, let's just call him douchebag for now. He told me, "you think too much of yourself and you're Wonder woman." I replied "I don't think I'm Wonder woman, Gal Gadot has already played the part and my ass is not so tight, so no you've got the wrong girl bro."

As for the "thinking too much of myself" part, that bit is entirely true. I've experienced things only senior citizens have in this lifetime and I've survived it with dark humour, sugar free icecream, poetry and good cinema across regional and international languages. So yes, without a doubt, I do "think too much of myself".

Quite frankly, if you don't think too much of yourself, no one else is going to. Trust in your personal brand to deliver to the world at large and your immediate family. Dim out the white noise in your head and from "well-wishers" and blindly believe in your abilities.

"You've got this, you shall overcome, yet again, this is jujubee" (in the words of Rajni), are the words I've permanently copy-pasted in my head. 

I can smell toxic masculinity and feminity, from a mile away because I've been raised by a family of super achievers, who've been humble all their life and have showered me with a suffocating amount of love even when I try to push them away.

So disrespect, unnecessary screaming and forcing down your point of view inside my throat, will certainly not work with me and it most certainly doesn't sit well with my son. If I'm opinionated, he's worse. If I ask 100 questions, he asks 200. If you think I'm stubborn and pig-headed, I wonder what you'd think about my son.

As a package deal, we're loud and in your face, but very warm, genuine and hospitable. Perhaps this very tiny chapter in my life has made me realise that there's only space for kind people in my world. 

If you want to be Doctor Doom, please do that elsewhere, I am and always will be team Iron Man. 

Peace! ☮️

Never Settle

Why shrink your big feelings,

For someone who treats you like an orange peel,

Why shrink your lively personality,

For someone whose moods swing from irritability to more irritability,

Remember who you are,

Slightly bizzare, but definitely a star,

Weird without a doubt, but all heart,

Now if the person opposite you can't look at you like a piece of art,

It's probably best it crashed and burnt,

Yet another lesson has been learnt,

Time to turn the page on this chapter,

And continue being a multifaceted adaptor,

Onto the next we zoom,

There's no place for gloom and doom.

The Cost of Having a Point of View

I met my childhood friend last week in Ooty and was cribbing to him about how tired I am in general with juggling work and mommy duties. He looked me straight in the face, in the middle of my picturesque tea garden overlooking balcony and said, "This is why women marry into rich families or want to become a trophy wife. Go become a trophy wife now." I blinked at him for exactly two seconds and burst into hysterical laughter. He joined me in the laughter and then we continued sipping on our black coffees to keep ourselves warm from the Ooty chill. 

That conversation made me wonder, why are women called "gold diggers", and "sluts" and "whores" while men do exactly the same thing. They want to marry rich too, they want to explore the opposite sex in abundance too and are called "fuckboys" in such a jovial way. And the worst one liner I've heard in my life "Men will be men." What does this even mean? Then women will also be women. 

Why has society posed such double standards for both sexes indulging in the same behaviour? A woman working late hours and sacrifing her weekends for her career is a "bad mother" and not a "good homemaker." However, a man indulging in the same career building activities are termed as "providers", "good husband's, father's and sons". I don't get it, I just don't get it. 

I'm too tired to keep wondering why a colleague of mine who was hired a year after me, at my same designation at a reputed Indian PR agency was given a much higher salary than mine. There was no difference in the work he was doing with mine. 

He was a "Yes man" at work when it came to our boss and clients, while I kept pointing out alternative ways to run a campaign or garner media coverage.

If the cost of having a strong point of view, is the package we earn, that's too high a cost to pay. I'm unwilling to settle for less at this stage of my life and career. 

Here's hoping the next generation of women have a much better time personally and professionally. As for me, I'm just going with the flow and sipping on hot chocolate each time I'm triggered.

Peace! ✌️

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."