A Salute!!

Raju returned to work today. My interaction with him today would easily be the most real conversation that this Man Friday has managed to have with me in the last 2 yrs. A short retrospect – As N says, a proud Marathi Manoos this Raju, in his attitude, his way of life, his demeanor, his Marathi pride that is almost transparent in his responses, in the way he grooms himself, and safe to assume, in his personal life. And this Man lost his (only) 3-year old son less than 15 days back. Tragic would be only an understatement.

Expectedly, (we) I was shaken to hear the news – sad for the man, anger at carelessness for having things (poison) lying around that was easily accessed by his son, disbelief and a nagging, wishful thought maybe this news is not true. But his confirmatory call twelve days later saying he wishes to join back, washed away all tentative possibilities.

Can’t describe the feeling – but something akin to ‘how am I going to face him’, ‘what would I say to this man whose tragedy cannot be supported by mere vocabulary, when he joins work on Mon?’ – nagged at my sub-conscience (I will not be surprised if N felt similarly).

So this morning the bell rang at 8:15 am (Raju’s time). Felt pretty rooted to the chair where I was, sipping my tea, (interestingly, Vanita too did not step out from the kitchen to answer the door as habit – may be similar reflexes!!). N got to the door and handed the car keys.

Cut to 10:30 am and the time for the car to pick me up and take me to the designer at Parel, was drawing near. The familiar irritant “kya kahoongi main usko’ kept nagging at my brain and I placed a call to N to find out how his morning chat with Raju went. N confirmed ‘Raju couldn’t have saved his boy… but he’s fine & strong…’

Raju came and I got into the car. I said, after few minutes of palpable silence ‘Raju! (pause) tumhari biwi sambhal gayi hain…’ Somewhere intuitively I had decided not to make him retell the story’. But I realized that the human being’s best bet to get used to a tragedy of this magnitude was to tell & retell the incident, again and again. So after a brave ‘..woh to roti rahti hai madam…’ came the story, every detail piece by piece, and with a retrospect of how he had spent the earlier day with his son, catering to every whim of his’, savoring every moment, every legitimate and fond wish being granted by a father, a friend till that very last moment. I just let him speak, consumed with a strange feeling, just letting a father tell me, and so hear himself thank God for the preceding 20 odd hours before the tragedy struck, telling himself that he has been a good father, that his son lived a life full of energy & spirit (woh to idhar udhar daudta rehta tha… main to usdin school mein naam daalke aya tha..) that he would spend his holidays devoted to his only child and till the end… did his utmost, notwithstanding the probable hospital bills, notwithstanding moving the child under more specialist care, notwithstanding….

One trait was constant – the pride – not broken in tragedy ‘main theek hoon…’ he even managed to slip that in, a proud father, not at all bitter, reminiscing, recounting, smiling almost constantly and I slowly felt admiration… I cannot confidently use the cliché that he was ‘putting up a brave front’ coz I’m not sure. The very phrase has a hint of the ‘contrived’ in it and I am very sure that this Raju was anything but that today!

Today’s Raju was definitely not a Father mourning the loss of his dear son. In those hours that I listened to him, Raju was a proud Father reveling in the memory of his son’s living & life, finding pride that he’d managed to be a doting father in the few years that his son lived, perhaps thanking God for the last 20 hrs of their ‘connectedness’.

Raju you’ve chosen to be happy with the bits & nuances, and even if it a choice for the moment, it’s real, it’s beautiful and I Salute you for that.

May this be your way of mourning & praying for the little boy of yours, and keeping him alive!!

I've earned my salary for the day!!

So I thought I’ll walk back from the gym today… and I am real glad that my momentary laziness did not overcome the instinct this morning.

Before I tell you why… allow me to tell you about Mumbai this Jan (so far) – the coolest I’ve ever felt in the last 5 years, balmy, nice & crisp sun, the festive month having left behind some tantalizing hues & fragrances – colors & lights on the buildings and fences; busy bakeries; brisk business at the local shops, mobile nurseries on the ‘thelas’ – a veritable havoc of colors in winter chrysanthemums and daisies; roads that never cease being bulldozed through & reconstructed. May be it’s always been like this, may be it’s Bandra that manages to manifest all this far more visibly… or is it just Me caring to stop by, far more patiently, paying my surroundings their due attention, re-learning wonderment and thankfulness for little things, registering that the old system still lives on in parallel and if at all, far more connectedly.

Don’t be amused by the cliché of the parallel old system – what I mean is that the nukkad ke dukaans, the kabaadiwala round the corner, the one of the many ‘fancy furnishings’ that sells just about every item & service to cushion & bolster our lives continue to exist. Nothing, almost nothing has changed. So why is it filling me with wonderment… certainly because people like me have got used to a whole new system termed ‘convenience’ - arty boutique chains that customize expensively or malls that provide ready-mades at one swipe of the plastic.

Let me explain by reviving the story I began with. I was walking back from the gym … I simply felt like…first stop, American Express Drycleaners – I dumped off the jackets & clothes long awaiting their submission for this ritual. For the uninitiated, this is the one Dry - cleaning setup (in the Mum suburbs at least) that ‘proudly’ does not cater to the working-couple lot. Shocked! How could they be if the timings are from 8 am - 12 noon and 5 - 7:30 pm in the evening during week days and Closed on Sundays. Tell me - how many self-respecting working couples will want to be seen there while continuing with their jobs! So their services are left to the older neighborhood Uncles & Aunties, homebodies and now people like me ‘on a break’!! he he..!!

That accomplished I walked on to the banana reriwallah and rewarded myself with a couple of them- at 15% cheaper than Patels and consumed my quota of one banana after weight training. The pleasure of dumping the peel in the ‘kachre ka gaadi’ standing right next to it was also unforeseen but that’s not why I started writing this post.

Chugging along happily, I found what I’d been looking for since a fairly long time in Bandra – the kabaadiwallah. Pardon me for going anecdotal again but this is a fond memory from all those growing up years. My dad, a perfectionist in many ways, used to religiously stack up the daily newspapers in one dumping corner and right before the stack would become higher than ‘a stack 6/7 bricks or so’, in would come the familiar kabaadiwallah on his cycle and after his bit of negotiation with the in-house veteran, pay the money which would be carefully put into some additional kharcha for the house. This tradition continued after I moved to Mumbai. More for the lack of knowing any other way of disposal. But then I met my husband and I was introduced to this whole new system. He has this maid (Vanita, rather the lady of the house), who would unceremoniously stack away the daily reads and one fine day, on return from work, I would find the stack cleaned out. On enquiring my husband gleefully explained ‘Yes she takes care of the kabaadi…’ almost thanking his stars!! ‘What about the money?’ ‘Don’t know… never asked’ and meaning I don’t care!! What stuck me was the sheer difference between these two men in my life (or rather these two generations), the difference almost in ideologies – one methodical and obsessive value for every penny; the other unmethodical… uncaring about any price they pay for it to look ‘in order’. In this case, resultantly a house-maid taking the master for granted.

However, this musing is not about which of the two is better but today I found which of the two I am truly comfortable with. My Dad’s way!! I have been uncomfortable about this practice of Vanita’s and today’s chancing upon the kabadiwallah was a sure endorsement of the way I would want it to be.

So here I was chatting up the shop-owner. You would wonder – educated, English-spoken, visiting card–tottering and true to his promise – ‘Kabhi bhi zaroorat ho phone kar dena’. The boy was at my door to collect the old stacks at 12 noon, on the dot!! Mind you, far more efficient than my Dad’s times, perhaps.

Hey, I made my salary for the day of Rs.97 (minus 2 rupees as tip). And I realised that I’d much rather tip a kabaadiwallah than have my maid audaciously tip herself, at my cost!

I carried on through the narrow winding lanes of Bandra Village to find some more useful answers to some of my recent pre-occupations. ‘Fancy Furnishings’ in the corner being one and they re-defined customer service for me. One of their boys accompanied me to my home with a measuring tape to measure, assess & do the needful. And he’s said he’ll deliver at home before end of day, at my doorstep. Spotlight on you Zeba, Fab India- why do I pay you the premium for all that you don’t offer, why do I continue to patronize you when unlike this guy, I have to follow (up) with you to even receive delivery of an item that I’ve already paid for, why do I get caught in the pseudo-thrill of being able to say ‘I bought it from Fab…or ’.

The answer is simple…because me, like my husband and many others, have become unmethodical, less obsessive for value, more uncaring, less respectful of things we had, and things our parents valued.

The corner shop too is selling 'convenience', but he's no longer in my consideration set for lifestyle decisions.

And a lot of this is because we are not stepping out any more, everyday, day after day, we are passing by life from behind the shaded, soundproof glasses of our Hondas & Toyotas. To and fro our workplaces. Our hatchbacks have graduated to sedans; our salaries have graduated from 5 figures to 6 or 7; our world-view has become limited to aircrafts, reams of newsprint and 24X7 news channels; holiday destinations are no longer popular but off-beat, even New Year celebrations are quaint, quieter, with select few. What is the potential of encountering, relating, connecting?

It came to me how some people I admire would incessantly nag – ‘ know your clients client’, ‘go do market visits’, ‘go to Nehru Place and talk to the channel guys, ‘go talk to the autowallah and the pan beedi shop owner’. Somehow incongruously the commercial ‘Life’s calling you…’ flashes in my mind. The boy dragging himself away from his computer screen looks out of the window to find life… the real life taking place outside, beckoning…!

Like the boy in the ad, I think I’m going to listen to this beckoning…

True Test!!

The 2nd day in the year passed away rather unpleasantly (stomach infection taking center-stage) and I am back again on my feet. The one reason that drove me to blogging today is to put to paper the ‘true test’ and I am going to put myself to in the next 362 days in 2007.

The test will be of my ‘character’- emotions or rather my capability to balance the lack of a professional status, the corresponding monetary independence, and all the trappings that came with it, with ‘the person’ that I am.

Don’t misunderstand me as I am clearly looking forward to it. This is self- inflicted and as I said to my kids (quoting myself) ‘ … come Jan 1st, I am not taking anything for granted…’ and in my mind today, that says it all. I need to presume nothing and will need to tutor myself fast in that direction. It’s a reality that expressions & emotions will now tend to be measured far more critically and subjectively than before – whether by me or by others. And here’s where the sweet challenge of ‘objectivity’ will need to be my measuring tape.

‘What was’ belonged to ‘nivedita the leader’, a nivedita from whom there were tangible expectations of decision-making, problem solving, leading a bunch with an expectation of results. ‘What will be’ will belong to Nivedita the friend, the wife, the daughter, the mentor, a person with an opinion, who is ready to listen, share & care. The latter aspects of my ‘capabilities’ (above) remain constant, but now can only manifest on being sought, far more tentatively, far less presumptuously.

Nivedita I’ll be watching your progress!!

Having ‘put myself on the mat’, it’ll also be a ‘test’ of people who have had a hand in shaping or just allowing me to be the person I am. And my earnest ‘tryst with myself’ will be greatly affected by how these critical few manifest their presence in the next month(s). That will unequivocally either mar or retain my ‘faith in myself’ and all that I’ve believed in.

Whichever way it goes, I promise to enjoy the next 362 days, either with or without all these intangibles!

I’ve loved myself, truly loved my evolution from a daughter, a student, a team player to a team leader, a mentor, a wife – perhaps, being a friend, as a constant through these stages. I have prided myself for my love for ‘the understated’, in being genuinely interested and sincere in all my relationships, in the last 4-5 yrs. of my living. People have commented on my ‘calm’ – questioning & wondering – and the formula (on hindsight) has been simple – 'I've loved myself madly' (hint of narcissism!!) and I have assiduously worked on being a person that I myself would revel in relating to and would admire. Hence, most critical on the other side of 2007, will be to continue feeling this way about ME – the only way is to continue to ‘Love who I am'.

Countdown has begun!!

The New Identity!!

Phew!!
It felt like the end of an era really just now!! No old identities will work anymore - my old salary account, ol' 2020 id, ol' visiting cards, even my old blogspot identity didn't work (couldn't be found) on this 1st day in 2007- pretty symbolic but now the sequel is inevitable!! So here 'meamateur2' is my new identity for my introspections & circumspections, mostly for sating my own hunger for expression and for those who're interested enough to know and read the tidings of this 'idle' mind in this un-pre empted year in my life ... I am embracing it!

So till I deliver on my committment to this journey of sharing & expressing more often and audibly... here's to ME for the courageous, non-inebriated (actually alchohol-free) and most beautiful 'bringing in' of this year (the past three days in Khandala were just divine- Thank you N).

till the next logging in ..