Life Lessons from Beauty and the Beast

As little girls, we were continuously spoon fed, larger than life, syrupy fairy tale romances that almost always had a happy ending. Then how can you blame us, when we grow up and want the same in real life? Each fairy tale, taught us that prince charming was head over heels in love with the not so financially stable girl. He fought against the world for this girl and he changed completely for her, sometimes from a beast to a man. And we lapped it all up, with absolute glee.

If we look at relationships in the real world, it's sadly a whole different story. The girl is expected to sacrifice her entire identity, starting with her name, her lifestyle, her home, her likes and her dislikes. Suddenly, there's an overbearing man in her life who doesn't want to change the way he lives. Why should he, he is the breadwinner and the man of the house, correct? (Indian logic!) 

The little girl is suddenly told to "adjust", "give in", "sacrifice" and "blend in", while her whole life she has been reading stories about prince charming who will and can be changed. While the Beast doesn't exist in the real world, I think he is symbolic to ego, selfishness, being stubborn and self-centered. For a relationship to work (any relationship - be it friendship, family or with work colleagues) one has to let go of these wonderful beastly characteristics. 

Before we talk about equality at work, let's re-look at the equality in our own homes. Let's raise feminist sons and all rounded daughters, who have the empathy to play ball from both sides of the gender. After we achieve that, we can talk about catching up with Japan and truly stepping into the 21st century as a broad minded, technologically advanced nation. 

(Image Source : http://movies.disney.com/beauty-and-the-beast)

Farewell Sridevi

24th February 2018, was a dark day for cinema lovers. India's dream girl Sridevi passed away due to a massive cardiac arrest. She was India's most successful multilingual, multi-generational actress. She broke the North-South divide with absolute ease. The notion that all South Indians are short, curly-haired, dark and unattractive was broken down by her with multiple, swift whiplashing strokes (imagine that crazy whipping scene from Chaalbaaz right about now)

While much has been written about her success in the movies, let's talk about Sridevi, the mother. How could she possibly give up such a well established place in the movies, just to raise two children? That's called the power of motherhood. Even the thought of becoming a mother or having a desire to have children, brings out in you, your most protective instincts. If you thought, you're a killer at work, try being a mother. You will stand up against the whole world, for your child. 

So coming back to that question, of how she could give up her entire life for her children, it's simple. It's called love. Unconditional, undying love a mother has for her flesh and blood. 

Her death felt personal. I felt a dull ache in my chest, that lasted for 48 hours straight, after reading and re-reading all the pieces of news that kept pouring in about her final moments. I felt sad knowing that I'll never see that raw, versatile talent, lighting up my television screen again. I cried along with her in English Vinglish, when her on-screen daughter made fun of her broken English and watched with eyes wide open, her suggestive "I love you" number. 

Sexy yet innocent. A helpless mentally challenged child one minute and hilariously funny, the next.  A meek, ready to be dominated upon doormat and an opinionated, head-strong fighter of injustice, all in one frame.  There has to be a better word than "versatile" to describe her effortless, flair for acting. 

We will miss you and your big expressive eyes, Ms Hawa Hawai. Women everywhere have lost a  beautiful, strong role model. But like you rightly said, "Jeevan ke kis modh pe, kab koi mil jaaye, kaun keh sakta hai?" So, hoping to catch you in the afterlife. Rest in peace, India's forever Chandni. 

(Image Source : http://www.rediff.com/movies/special/sridevi-the-10-best-songs/20180225.htm) 

My Husband, The Musician

I've always liked musicians, especially guitarists (along with the entire female population across the globe).  I will marry a "long haired rocker dude", I would emphatically tell my family while busily thulping down on some sinful number. "But first lose some weight", would come the reply. 

Luckily for me, I did lose weight, a whole lot of it. Ten kilos to be exact. While looks don't matter and so on, at 21 everyone was shallow. The more weight I lost, the more confident I became. It was during this time, that I decided to pursue my writing dreams and shift to Mumbai on a whim. 

So, with nothing but a head full of dreams and one too many clothes (with matching accessories and shoes), I relocated. I soon realized, that I was barely making enough money to pay for my paying guest accomodation, let alone buy a decent meal. I quickly packed my bags and ran back home to mommy and daddy. 

Despite the hardships (of being broke, living alone and pissing off my parents), I met quite a few interesting people during my short stint. One among them was my husband (which of course I didn't know at the time). My first assignment as a reporter was to interview an upcoming humour metal band from the city. My husband was the lead guitarist of the band. He was a happy-go lucky, bindaas college student, who had ample time on his hands to pursue his musical dreams. He had formed multiple college bands over the years, had met fellow musicians from the Mumbai "metal scene" during his college festivals and managed to form bands, even outside his college circuit.

Over the years, I've seen this young man record, mix, compose and perform live. He along with his bands have created full length albums, band T-shirts, posters, badges and what have you. The glitz and the glamour you see on-stage takes a lot of effort, man-hours and hardcore practice. They put in their sweat, blood and sometimes even money to sell their music. 

In the past decade, the biggest constant in his life has been his love for music. From a carefree college kid, he has morphed into a responsible family man. He manages to play shows in multiple cities despite his hectic work schedule. And while I say hectic work schedule, I don't mean 9am-6pm. He works 24 hours, Monday through Sunday, flies to multiple cities during the week and still finds time to meet his bands, make new music and record them. 

I've heard him play his guitar, at all odd hours of the day and night. He constantly invests in valuable musical equipment, to improve his craft. And the happiest I've ever seen him, is on the days he goes to meet his bands for jams. 

While I don't align with his musical preferences, his dedication and commitment to create better music everyday is something I truly admire. Salute, to you and all your band members who lead this gruelling dual life. If this isn't raw passion, I don't know what is. 

My Everyday Superheroes

While I'd like to believe that Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman exist in the real world, the reality is that we deal with some everyday superheroes, who look less glamorous, are more sweaty and toil in the sun, day in and day out. I'm talking about those men and women, who fill our dreary, monotonous lives with some colour and excitement. 

My idli anna and naariyal paani bhaiyya top this list. Not a day goes by when they don't greet me with a warm smile. They've allowed me to buy food on credit, given me change for Rs 2000 notes (not a mere feat in post demonitisation India) and even served me first, despite their long line of customers. 

One smile and a packet of warm idli-chutney-medu wada from my idli anna is all it takes, to warm both my stomach and my heart. It also helps that he speaks in Tamil now and then, whereby making me feel right at home. I could hug him, but he might stop serving me his delicious, fluffy idlis.

My naariyal paani bhaiyya on the other hand, is most likely a caped crusader by night and vigorous coconut cutter by day. Why I say this, is because he senses me hovering around him , even before I come in clear sight of his eyes. And before I can utter the words, "Bhaiyya ek paani wala dena", he viciously chops open a juicy looking coconut, making the paani spill around him in a crazy 360 degree angle and while I nurse my paani clogged eye, bhaiyya would've placed a fat naariyal in my hands. 

Their bindaas attitude about giving customers credit is something that amazes me everyday. Their tiresome jobs might earn them a few thousands, with which they would be feeding more than one mouth. Then how are they so warm in person and so casual about giving credit?

Hats off to you idli anna and naariyal paani bhaiyya, I am a fan. A lifelong fan. 

(Image Source : http://www.theplayfulindian.com/index.php?route=product/product&product_id=275 and https://www.shutterstock.com/image-vector/coconut-water-cartoon-207717748)